Ruthless Revenge: Passionate Possession: A Virgin for Vasquez / A Marriage Fit for a Sinner / Mistress of His Revenge. Chantelle Shaw
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take a back seat for...however long it takes. And word of warning—my apartment is for sole occupation only...’
‘You mean if there was a guy in my life, and I happened to be living in one of your apartments, I wouldn’t be allowed to entertain him?’
Javier looked at her appalled expression and swatted away the uncomfortable feeling that he was being pigeon-holed as some kind of dinosaur when that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Having reached the soaring heights the hard way, he made a conscious effort to ensure that the employees of his company were hand-picked for all the right reasons: talent, merit and ability. He made sure that there were no glass ceilings for women, or for those who had had to struggle to find their way, as he had.
He was not the sort of guy who would ever have dreamt of laying down pathetic rules about men being kept apart from women, like teenagers in boarding schools overseen by strict house masters.
So what was he doing right now? And how was it that he had no intention of doing otherwise?
‘I mean you’re probably going to be working long hours. The distraction of some man who wants you back home to cook his meal by five-thirty isn’t going to work’ was the most he would offer.
Sophie laughed shortly. If only he knew...
‘There’s no man around to distract me,’ she said in a low voice. ‘And, yes, as a matter of fact the house is falling down, and Oliver won’t be there because he’s been dispatched to France to see what’s happening to the company over there...’
‘Your house is falling down?’
‘Not literally,’ Sophie admitted. ‘But there’s a lot wrong with it and I’m always conscious of the fact that if it springs a leak and I’m not there to sort it out, well...’
‘Since when has your house been falling down?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ She sighed and began to run her fingers through her hair, only to realise that she had pinned it up, and let her hand drop to her side. She looked around her but was very much aware of his eyes still on her, and even more aware that somehow they were now standing way too close for comfort.
‘You’ve done marvellous things with the space.’ She just wanted to get away from the threat of personal quizzing. She took a few steps away from him and now took time really to notice just how much had been done. It was not just a paint job; everything seemed very different from what she remembered.
It seemed much, much larger and that, she realised, was because the space within the first-floor office block had been maximised. Partitions had been cleverly put in where before there had been none. The dank carpeting had been replaced with wooden floors. The desks and furniture were all spanking new. She listened and nodded as he explained the dynamics of the place being manned and who should be working the London office. The client list would have to be updated. The sales team would need to be far more assertive. He had identified useful gaps in the market that could be exploited.
Everything was perfect. There were two private offices and she would be occupying one. Again she nodded because, like it or not, she was going to be here, in London.
‘But,’ she said when the tour had been concluded and they were in the pristine, updated kitchen, sitting at the high-tech beaten metallic table with cups of steaming coffee in front of them, ‘I still don’t feel comfortable leaving the house and I don’t want to live in one of your apartments.’ He would have a key... He would be able to walk in unannounced at any given time... She could be in the shower and he could just stroll in...
Her nipples tightened, pushing against her lacy bra and sending tingles up and down, in and out and through her from her toes to her scalp. She licked her lips and reminded herself that if he felt anything towards her at all it would be loathing because of what had happened between them in the past. Although, in reality, he couldn’t even be bothered to feel such a strong emotion. What he felt was...indifference.
So if he were to let himself in, which he most certainly wouldn’t, the shower would be the last place he would seek her out. Her responses were all over the place and it wouldn’t be long before he started to realise that she wasn’t as immune to him as she was desperately trying to be.
‘I’ll bring your brother back over.’
‘No! Don’t...’
‘Why not?’ Javier raised his eyebrows expressively, although he knew the reason well enough. Oliver didn’t want to be stuck in Yorkshire and he didn’t see his future with the family business. He resented the penury into which they had been thrust and, although he recognised the importance of rebuilding what had fallen into disrepair, he really thought no further than what that personally meant for him. Given half a chance, he would have cashed in his shares and headed for the hills. In due course he would, which would be interesting should Javier decide he wanted more than he had. That was unlikely, because once he was done with getting what he wanted, he would be more than happy to disappear and leave the running of the business to an underling of his choice.
‘He’s enjoying being in Paris.’
‘And that’s how it’s always been, isn’t it?’ Javier asked softly and Sophie raised translucent violet eyes to look at him with a frown.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I remember how you used to talk about your twin.’ He had resolved not to go down any maudlin, reminiscing roads but now found that he couldn’t help himself. ‘The party animal. Off to California while you stayed behind to do your A levels. Praised for being sporty and indulged at a time when most kids that age would have had their head in textbooks to make sure they passed exams. When he came down to see you, he barely stayed put. He managed to make friends in five seconds and then off he went to see what nightclubs there were. He had his fun, enjoyed Mummy and Daddy’s money and never had to face up to any grim realities because by then he was in California on his sports scholarship...
‘I bet no one ever filled him in about the reality of the company losses, not even you...not even when they were glaringly obvious. I’ll bet he only found out the extent of the trouble when you couldn’t hide it from him any longer. Did your beloved ex-husband likewise conspire to keep your immature brother in the dark?’
‘I told you.’ Sophie stiffened at the mention of her ex-husband. ‘I don’t want to talk about Roger.’
Javier’s lips tightened. The more she shied away from all mention of her ex, the more his curiosity was piqued. He was bitterly reminded of his pointless wondering when she had dumped him, when she had told him that she was destined to marry someone else... When she had married a guy whom he had found himself researching on the Internet even though it had been an exercise in masochism.
He had learned strength from a very young age. It had taken a great deal of willpower to avoid the pitfalls of so many of his friends when he had been growing up in poverty in Spain. The easy way out had always been littered with drugs and violence, and that easy way had been the popular route for many of the kids he had known. He had had to become an island to turn his back on all of that, just as he had had to develop a great deal of inner strength when he had finally made it to England to begin his university career. He had had to set his sights on distant goals and allow himself to be guided only by them.
Sophie had taken his eye off the ball, and here she was, doing it again.
The sooner he got her out of his system, the better.
‘So your brother stays in Paris,’ he said, with the sort of insistence that made her think of steamrollers slowly and inexorably flattening vast swathes of land. ‘I could get someone to house-sit and daily look for walls falling down...’
‘You might think it’s funny, Javier, but it’s not. You might live in your mansion now, and you might be able to get whatever you want at the snap of a finger, but it’s just not funny when you have to watch every step you take because there might just be a minefield waiting to explode if you put your foot somewhere wrong. And I’m surprised you have no sympathy