Australian Millionaires: The Millionaire's Seductive Revenge. Maxine Sullivan
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“Phil’s plane get off okay?”
Phillip. Her so-called fiancé wasn’t gone half an hour and she was ready to fall into bed with Brant. Dear God, why did this man have such a hold over her? She hated it. She would fight against it … with every fiber of her being.
Her gaze dropped to the paperwork in his hands. “Can I help you?” she asked, injecting cool disapproval in her tone.
His face closed up. “I was looking for the Robertson file.” He went back to searching through the papers. “Phil was supposed to do some work on it.”
“He did. I just have to finish typing some notes, then you can have it. Give me an hour and I’ll get it to you.”
“Fine.” He strode around the desk and came toward her, all business now. “I’ll be in my office.”
She stepped back and moved to her desk before he could come anywhere near her. He sent her a mocking smile as he passed by. Well, he could mock, she told herself as she sat down and opened up the file. It wouldn’t get her into his bed any faster.
Or at all.
An hour later she hurried down the hallway to his office, determined to leave the paperwork with his PA, only Evelyn was nowhere to be seen. He must have heard her in the outer office, because a few seconds later he called out to bring it in to him.
She swallowed hard, not wanting to go into his inner sanctum when no one else seemed to be around.
“Kia?”
She straightened her shoulders and walked forward. For all its luxury, she may as well have been walking into a prison cell.
“How did you know it was me?” she said.
He gave her a look that told her he always knew when she was around. “Bring it over here,” he said, putting down his pen and leaning back in his chair as if she were about to put on a show and he didn’t want to miss a second of it.
She hesitated. Her legs felt like jelly. Then she moved forward, and just as she’d known it would, his gaze slid over her blue tailored skirt and white silky blouse. She could see him mentally stripping the clothes from her body, piece by piece.
She was wishing that she hadn’t discarded her jacket before coming in here. At least then she wouldn’t have the urge to cover up the tight feeling in her nipples, and her arms wouldn’t be goose-bumping in reaction.
She put the correspondence on his desk. The hint of sandalwood aftershave filled the air and stirred her senses. “I’ll be leaving now. I want to finish some Christmas shopping this afternoon.”
“When are you off to Adelaide?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“You’ll miss Phil, no doubt?” It was a question, not a statement. Those eyes watched her like a cat stalking a mouse, waiting for her to make one wrong move. Well, she didn’t much like cheese.
She pasted on a smile. “Naturally, but I’ll be kept pretty busy. My mother loves to put on a bash at Christmas,” she chatted on nervously, until all at once she saw a hint of bleakness in his eyes that clutched at her heart. She spoke before she could stop herself. “What about you, Brant? Any plans for Christmas?”
“So you remembered my name, eh?” Then he straightened in his chair. “A friend has invited me around for Christmas dinner, but I’m not sure I’ll go yet. I’ve got too much work.”
“What about your brother?” she said, curious to see his reaction again.
“What about him?” he snapped, his eyes turning colder than winter.
She swallowed. “I just thought—”
“Look, I don’t want anything to do with my brother and that’s the way I like it.”
She took a step back. “Oh.”
Tension filled the air and hung there for a few seconds before Brant appeared to make himself relax. Then he leaned over and took something out of the drawer in his desk. “I have a Christmas present for you.”
Her heart jumped in her throat. “A … a present?”
He held out the small package toward her. “I gave Evelyn one, too. Can’t let the best two PAs in town not know they’re appreciated.”
His tone held something biting, though she knew it was intended for her, not Evelyn. But she accepted the gift anyway. Phillip had given Evelyn a present, so what was wrong in Brant giving her one?
Then she met his eyes and she knew that everything was wrong about this. This wasn’t because of her work. It was because he wanted her. This was a man wanting his woman and telling her in the only way he could.
Her hands shook as she undid the wrapping paper and lifted the lid on the small box inscribed with the top jeweler’s name in Australia. She gasped when she saw the small medallion nestled on a velvet bed amongst the gold chain.
“It’s not a diamond necklace,” he said with cutting emphasis, “but it should keep you safe on your journey home.”
“It’s a St. Christopher medallion,” she murmured, pushing his cynicism aside, touched by the charming gift. “Thank you. It’s lovely. I’ll make sure I put it on before I leave.”
“Let me,” he rasped.
Her breath hitched. Could she bear to have him touch her, no matter how briefly? Oh, how she wanted this. Was this one little thing too much to ask?
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky.
He came around the desk and took the present out of her hands. “Turn around.”
She did, and for a long moment everything in the room went quiet. Her heart skipped a beat. She could feel him standing there looking at her, his warm breath flowing over the nape of her neck, making her light-headed. If she leaned back, his arms would snake around her and then … Oh, for heaven’s sake, Kia, get a grip on yourself, she scolded inwardly.
The package rustled and then the gold chain came around her neck. The medallion lovingly touched the base of her throat, cooling her skin.
He placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly turned her around to face him.
“Merry Christmas, Kia,” he said hoarsely, moving in to kiss her.
She lifted her lips. She had to. An avalanche could be coming their way and she’d still wait for that kiss.
His lips touched hers briefly. So brief that it should have been a chaste kiss. But every pore of her skin felt him there, acknowledged him, cried out for more.
He moved back and their eyes locked. Her throat seemed to close at the intense desire written in his eyes and the struggle within him not to take her.
He stepped back with a low sound in his throat that seemed to wrench from deep inside him. It broke the spell of the moment.
She drew in a shaky breath. “Merry Christmas to you, too, Brant.”
A muscle knotted in his jaw as he walked back around to the other side of the desk. “I hope you get everything you want.”
If ever there was a time for not getting what she wished for, it was now. When she wanted him.
She spun around and hurried toward the door, needing to get out of there.
“Have a good holiday, Kia … even without your fiancé.”
Kia stopped to glance at him and saw the look in his eyes was harder than ever. She tensed. They were right back where they’d started. And that was fine with her.
“I intend to,” she said coolly and left the room.
Kia normally loved being with her family at Christmas. Neighbors dropped by for a Christmas drink in the morning, and her sister,