Ruthless Revenge: Passionate Possession: A Virgin for Vasquez / A Marriage Fit for a Sinner / Mistress of His Revenge. Chantelle Shaw

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Ruthless Revenge: Passionate Possession: A Virgin for Vasquez / A Marriage Fit for a Sinner / Mistress of His Revenge - Chantelle  Shaw


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of how protected he had always made her feel. The clean, masculine scent of him lingered in her nostrils, making her feel shaky as she sat down at a table in the corner, waiting tensely while he went to get them something to drink. She knew she should keep a clear head and drink water but her nerves were all over the place. They needed something a little stronger than water.

      Outside it was hot and she could glimpse a packed garden but in here it was cool, dark and relatively empty.

      The sun worshippers were all drinking in the evening sun.

      Trying to elicit details about her past was not relevant. Javier knew that and he was furious with himself for succumbing to the desire to know more.

      Just like that, in a matter of minutes, she had managed to stoke his curiosity. Just like that, she was back under his skin and he couldn’t wait to have her, to bed her, so that he could rid himself of the uncomfortable suspicion that she had been there all along, a spectre biding its time until it could resurface to catch him on the back foot.

      For a man to whom absolute control was vital, this slither of susceptibility was unwelcome.

      He realised that when he tried to think of the last woman he had slept with, a top-notch career woman in New York with legs to her armpits, he came up blank. He couldn’t focus on anyone but the woman sitting in front of him, looking at him as though she expected him to pounce unexpectedly at any minute.

      She had the clearest violet eyes he had ever seen, fringed with long, dark lashes, and the tilt of them gave her a slightly dreamy look, as though a part of her was on another plane. He itched to unpin her neat little bun so that he could see whether that glorious hair of hers was still as long, still as unruly.

      ‘Well?’ Javier demanded impatiently, hooking a chair with his foot and angling it so that he could sit with his long legs extended. He had brought a wine cooler with a bottle of wine and one of the bartenders placed two glasses in front of them, then simpered for a few seconds, doe-eyed, before reluctantly walking back to the bar.

      ‘Well...what?’

      ‘What was the order of events? Heady marriage, fairy-tale honeymoon and then, lo and behold, no more money? Life can be cruel. And where was your brother when all this was happening?’

      ‘In America.’ She sighed.

      ‘By choice, even though he knew?’ With the family company haemorrhaging money, surely it would have been an indulgence for Oliver to have stayed in California, enjoying himself...

      ‘He didn’t know,’ Sophie said abruptly. ‘And I don’t know why...how all this is relevant.’

      ‘I’m fleshing out the picture,’ Javier said softly. ‘You’ve come to me with a begging bowl. What did you think I was going to do? Give you a big, comforting hug and write out a cheque?’

      ‘No, but...’

      ‘Let’s get one thing straight here, Sophie.’ He leant forward and held her gaze. She couldn’t have said a word even if she had wanted to. She could hardly breathe. ‘You’re here to ask a favour of me and, that being the case, whether you like it or not, you don’t get to choose what questions to answer and what questions to ignore. Your private life is your business. Frankly, I don’t give a damn. But I need to know your levels of capability when it comes to doing business. I need to know whether your brother is committed to working for the company, because if he was left to enjoy four years of playing sport in California, then I’m guessing he wouldn’t have returned to the sick fold with a cheerful whistle. Most of the directors of the company aren’t worth the money they’re being paid.’

      ‘You know how much they’re being paid!’

      ‘I know everything worth knowing about your crippled family company.’

      ‘When did you get so...so...hard?’

      Roughly around the same time I discovered what sort of woman I’d been going out with, Javier thought with the sour taste of cynicism in his mouth.

      He leant back and crossed his legs, lightly cradling the stem of the wine glass between his long fingers.

      ‘You don’t make money by being a sap for sob stories,’ he informed her coolly, keen eyes taking in the delicate bloom of colour in her cheeks. ‘You’ve come to me with a sob story.’ He shrugged. ‘And the bottom line is this—if you don’t like the direction this conversation is going, then, like I said before, you’re free to go. But of course, we both know you won’t, because you need me.’

      He was enjoying this little game of going round the houses before he laid all his cards on the table, before she knew exactly what the terms and conditions of her repayment would be.

      It wouldn’t hurt her to realise just how dangerously close the company was to imploding.

      It wouldn’t hurt her to realise just how much she needed him...

      ‘If you knew about your husband’s hare-brained schemes and addiction to gambling, and you allowed it to go under the radar, then are you a trustworthy person to stand at the helm of your company?’

      ‘I told you that there was nothing I could do,’ she said with a dull flush.

      ‘And if your brother was so clueless as to what was happening on the home front, then is he competent enough to do what would need to be done should I decide to help you out?’

      ‘Ollie...doesn’t have a huge amount of input in the actual running of things...’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because he’s never been interested in the company and, yes, you’re right—he’s always resented the fact that he had to finally return to help out. He’s found it difficult to deal with not having money.’

      ‘And you’ve found it easy?’

      ‘I’ve dealt with it.’

      Javier looked at her narrowly and with a certain amount of reluctant admiration for the streak of strength he glimpsed.

      Not only had she had to face a tremendous fall from the top of the mountain, but the loss of her husband and the father she had adored.

      Yet there was no self-pity in the stubborn tilt of her chin.

      ‘You’ve had a lot to deal with, haven’t you?’ he murmured softly and she looked away.

      ‘I’m no different from loads of people the world over who have found their lives changed in one way or another. And, now that you’ve got the measure of the company, will you lend us some money or not? I don’t know if my brother told you, but the family house has been on the market for over two years and we just can’t seem to sell it. There’s no appetite for big houses. If we could sell it, then we might be able to cover some of the expenses...’

      ‘Although a second mortgage was taken out on it...’

      ‘Yes, but the proceeds would go a little way to at least fixing certain things that need urgent attention.’

      ‘The dated computer systems, for example?’

      ‘You really did your homework, didn’t you? How did you manage that in such a small amount of time? Or have you been following my father’s company over the years? Watching while it went downhill?’

      ‘Why would I have done that?’

      Sophie shrugged uncomfortably. ‘I know you probably feel... Well, you don’t understand what happened all those years ago.’

      ‘Don’t presume to think that you know what goes on in my head, Sophie. You don’t. And, in answer to your preposterous question, I haven’t had the slightest clue what was going on in your father’s company over the years, nor have I cared one way or the other.’ He saw that the bottle was empty and debated whether or not to get another, deciding against it, because he wanted them both to have clear heads for this conversation.

      When he knew that he would be seeing her,


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