Ruthless Lover. Sarah Holland
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Suddenly, he thrust her roughly from him. ‘Fine,’ he said tightly, getting to his feet. ‘I’ve never made love to a woman who didn’t want me and I don’t intend to start now.’
Relief and acute disappointment swamped her as she lay very still, staring up at him.
‘There have always been plenty of women ready to submit to me,’ he drawled cruelly, watching her with a hard smile. ‘There always will be. And I’ll enjoy making love to them, Serena, until you decide you want to join their number.’
She gasped in outraged disbelief. ‘Not until the day I die, you arrogant swine!’
‘Men who are successful with women are always arrogant,’ he said with a cold lift of his brows. ‘I’m no different. Why should I put up with rejection from a spoilt little girl when I could have a warm, willing woman to share my bed?’ He lifted his dark head, face very hard. ‘Think about it, Serena. Perhaps you’ll have changed your mind by morning.’
He turned, striding out of the bedroom without another word, and as the door slammed behind him Serena was already struggling with hot, bitter tears as she faced the reality of her marriage.
At breakfast the next morning, Nick was hostile to her.
‘Thought about what I said last night?’ he asked flatly as they sat tensely together on the sunlit patio overlooking the beach.
‘Yes,’ Serena said icily. ‘And my answer is a resounding no. I wouldn’t let you make love to me if you went down on your knees and begged me to!’
‘Most unlikely,’ he drawled tightly. ‘As I believe I made clear last night, where women are concerned, I’m never the one who has to beg.’
Hot colour flooded her angry face. ‘Oh, yes, I’m sure they’re all throwing themselves at your feet, Mr Colterne. You’re a very rich man and no doubt many women find you irresistible. I just don’t happen to be one of them.’
‘Then we’re at a stalemate.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘For the moment. But it’s not a stalemate I intend to live with forever, Serena. One clause in our marital contract was that you provide me with an heir.’
At that she paled, falling silent
Nick studied her, mouth a cool line. ‘Obviously, you’re too young to consider living up to your side of the deal just yet. But you won’t always be, Serena. Sooner or later, you’ve got to give me children, and we both know it’
She swallowed, her throat dry as ashes. ‘So you will inflict yourself on me? Whether I like it or not?’
‘Oh, you’ll like it,’ he said softly, and watched the angry glitter of her green eyes before drawling, ‘But we’ll discuss it at a later date. In a few years’ time. When you’ve grown up a bit. You’ll see things differently then. You’ll also have had time to live with frustration—’ a ruthless smile curved his mouth as he said under his breath ‘—and you’ll be very willing to end it.’
‘Don’t count on it!’ she said bitterly, hating him.
He laughed softly, then got to his feet, a frown on his brow. ‘In the meantime, though, we’re going to have to deal with our incompatibility.’
She watched him in silence, the warm breeze lifting her red-gold hair.
‘I’ll keep mistresses,’ Nick said coolly. ‘I will, of course, keep them away from you. You’ll never be humiliated publicly, you can rest assured of that. I have four homes—in New York, London, Hong Kong and this one here in Nassau.’ He lifted dark brows. ‘I’ll hire a private secretary for you. She’ll type out our schedules every month and we’ll exchange them. That way, we need never bump into one another unless we have to.’
‘Some marriage,’ she said thickly, hating him.
‘I married you for your title and your inheritance, Serena,’ he drawled sardonically. ‘I can get sex and female company elsewhere. I don’t actually need them from you.’
Bitterly, she surveyed him. ‘And we’ll discuss children later?’
‘Much later,’ he said coolly.
Staring at the sun on the sea across the white sands of Nassau, Serena felt a quiver of fear. ‘How much later?’
‘When I think you’re ready,’ he said flatly, and walked away off the patio without another word.
So they had slipped into the routine of their marriage. It had worked, too. Serena had found herself left to live her own life as she wished, with all the money she could have dreamed of at her disposal, while Nick went his own way.
Occasionally, they would meet up at Flaxton Manor, putting on a brave show for her parents, who were anxious that Serena be happy. So she and Nick laughed and kissed for their benefit, and then went their separate ways again. Sometimes they had to go to Boston to see Nick’s parents, and that was easier, because that Bostonian palace they lived in held no bitter memories for her.
Flaxton Manor had been opened to the public, become a successful tourist attraction, and over the following three years had gone from strength to strength, developing a garden centre in the grounds which her father doted on, and which had given him a new lease of life.
Now, however, Nick had suddenly appeared without warning and got into her bed, eliciting that swift, hot rush of pleasure and making Serena feel unaccountably afraid.
Lying in bed, staring at the lights of New York outside her window, she felt that fear grow deep inside her.
Was it true that his jet had been diverted? Was it true that this was an unplanned visit? Was it true that he would be leaving in the morning?
Or were his motives altogether—more sinister?
THE rattle of china woke Serena next morning. Lids flickering open sleepily, she frowned, wondering who it was. Then she remembered Nick and her body jack-knifed into a sitting position. Heart thudding, she sat there, acutely aware of every movement he made in the kitchen. Her eyes flashed to the clock. Nine a.m. What was he still doing here?
Getting up, she went into the bathroom, washed her face and cleaned her teeth, wondering whether or not she should join him for breakfast. If she didn’t, he might very well join her. A flush stained her cheeks at the memory of his kiss last night. She didn’t want a repetition of that. There was no option but to go and join him and find out what his plans were.
She had planned to dress, but she heard him moving about outside her door, so she quickly snatched up her black négligé and shouldered into it with jerky movements, her heart skipping as she buttoned up the front of it with shaky fingers.
Wrenching open the door, she saw him with newspapers in his hand, strolling lazily past her.
He stopped, dangerously tall and sexy in his dark red pyjama trousers and bare chest. ‘Morning,’ he said coolly, flicking his blue eyes over her. ‘I didn’t know you’d added the New York Artist to our delivery list.’
Her eyes darted to the papers he held. ‘I ordered it months ago…’
‘You’re paying for it yourself, too,’ he noted with a wry movement of his dark brows. ‘Out of your allowance. Or I would have noticed it on the bills.’
Stiffening, she said, ‘Is it a crime, Nick?’
‘No.’ The dark brows drew together in a frown. ‘Just secretive of you.’
‘Everyone has secrets,’ she said coolly.
He studied her for a moment, then walked away, his face unreadable. Serena watched him go, dry-mouthed. Damn! If she had known he was going