The Blackmailed Bridegroom. Miranda Lee
Читать онлайн книгу.
have known Antonio wouldn’t cross her father. He knew what side his bread was buttered on.
Not that Antonio was easily cast in the role of flunkey. He was far too strong-willed and opinionated to be a mindless yes-man. She’d heard him disagree with her father more than once when it came to business.
But she was still piqued that he felt he could play with words around her. It was so patronising. And so like the treatment she’d always received around Fortune Hall. If she’d been born a boy she would have been drawn into their world of negotiations and deals, not excluded, then cynically condescended to!
Her eyes flashed as she lifted her glass in a mock toast. ‘To the forthcoming and hopefully…what kind of merger did you say it was, Antonio?’
‘Desirable,’ he said quietly, and that inscrutable black gaze of his ran slowly over her from head to toe.
Paige’s heart tripped, then stopped altogether when those eyes began to travel back up her body even more slowly, lingering on the swells and dips of her female form, leaving them burning in his wake. He inspected her mouth for what felt like an interminable length of time, forcing her lips to fall apart and drag in some much needed air for her starving lungs.
Now his eyes lifted to hers, holding them in a hard and merciless gaze which was as blatantly sexual as it was chillingly cold.
She quivered. All over. Inside and out.
It was the most erotic thing which had ever happened to her.
Her heart began to race, an uncomfortable heat suffusing her skin.
Paige did the only thing she could think of to survive the moment. She quaffed back the chilled champagne she was holding. The whole lot.
Unfortunately, her ragged breathing sent some down the wrong way and she began to choke.
Antonio was beside her in a flash, slapping her firmly between the shoulders. The champagne came flying back up and sprayed out from her mouth, most of it falling to the carpet but some dribbling down her front.
‘Try to breathe slowly and evenly,’ Antonio advised, once she’d stopped choking to death.
She tried, but it was almost impossible with him standing so close to her, then perfectly impossible when Antonio drew a snow-white handkerchief from his trouser pocket and started wiping down her top where the champagne had stained it, stroking the handkerchief down over the swell of her right breast, working his way closer and closer to her hardening nipple. As he drew dangerously close she felt her flesh tighten even further in anticipation of his touch, craving the contact, practically begging for it.
Paige sucked in sharply when the handkerchief finally slid over the tautened peak, her head spinning wildly. He did it again. Then again.
Confusion flung her eyes wide to search his. Was he being deliberately cruel? Did he have any idea what he was doing to her? She dared not believe this was real, but when their eyes met Paige was stunned to see he was as enthralled as she was by what he was doing.
The handkerchief came to rest over the traitorous peak, hiding it from sight. ‘Do you want to go upstairs and change?’ he asked her in a low, thickened voice.
‘I…I don’t have anything to change into,’ came her shaky reply, and Antonio frowned.
‘There’s no time to change,’ Conrad snapped irritably, from where he’d risen and was moving towards the now open dining room door. ‘Dinner’s ready to be served.’
‘Why don’t you have anything to change into?’ Antonio asked in a disconcertingly gentle tone as he led her still shaken self to her place at the table. ‘Or don’t you want to tell me?’
Suddenly, she did want to tell him. Suddenly, he wasn’t the disapproving, remote, unattainable man he’d become over the years. He was more like that other Antonio Scarlatti, the one who’d kindly met her train that day, and started her obsession with him.
Was one of her futile dreams in danger of coming true? Had Antonio finally seen her tonight as a grownup woman, and not a silly little girl?
‘Later,’ she whispered to him when he pulled her seat out for her.
His breath was warm against her ear as he scooped her chair under her. ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ he murmured, and she quivered helplessly.
Dinner was agony. And ecstasy. One minute she would be smiling and sparkling at him, then doubts would besiege her and she’d fall worriedly silent. Why now? she agonised. Why tonight? Did her father have anything to do with this? Had he ordered Antonio to be nice to her?
No, no, that couldn’t be it, she decided at long last. If Antonio’s ambitions lay in that direction, he would not have waited this long to pursue her. No, he was genuinely attracted to her tonight. She could feel it. There was a predatory glitter in his eyes, eyes which didn’t stop looking at her. Paige knew what it was like to be the object of a man’s sexual interest, and she could feel Antonio’s desire hitting her in waves.
He wanted to make love to her.
The thought was breathtaking. And compellingly exciting.
It was only a sexual thing, of course. Paige was not naive enough to think anything else. Antonio was a man of the world, a confirmed bachelor type whose commitment was to the company. His bed-partners were transitory, and replaceable, like her father’s. According to the staff at Fortune Hall, Antonio hadn’t brought the same woman to dinner, or a party there, in all the years of his employ. If Paige let him seduce her, he would promise her nothing but passing pleasures, followed by the ultimate in pains.
But, oh…those passing pleasures…
Paige could barely begin to imagine them.
The ultimate in pains, however, she could imagine.
She groaned a silent groan. She’d have to be crazy to set herself up for that!
‘Paige!’ her father snapped. ‘Evelyn’s asking you if you want some dessert. What’s the matter with you tonight, girl? One minute chattering away sixty to the dozen, the next off in some dream world!’
Her blue eyes cleared to see the hated housekeeper smirking at her from her position at her father’s shoulder.
‘No dessert, thank you,’ Paige said stiffly, while she struggled to suppress the overwhelmingly negative feelings the woman always evoked in her.
‘You’re not becoming anorexic again, are you?’ her father demanded, exasperation in his voice.
‘I was never anorexic!’ she defended hotly. ‘I have no idea where you ever got such an idea,’ she finished, whilst looking daggers at Evelyn.
The housekeeper’s beady eyes didn’t move an inch.
‘Then prove it by having some apple crumble!’ her father insisted. ‘Bring Paige a large helping, Evelyn. With plenty of cream.’
A helpless fury flooded Paige as the housekeeper swanned off with a triumphant expression on her face. If Antonio hadn’t been at the table she would have left the room. Instead, she was stuck there, feeling belittled and foolish. She could not bear to look over at Antonio, afraid to see his earlier attraction for her had faded because she was being treated like a difficult and wayward child.
‘The reason Paige probably turned dessert down, Conrad,’ Antonio said, and Paige’s eyes snapped up to stare across the table at him, ‘is because she promised to have supper with me later. I should have said no to dessert as well.’
Paige was as amazed as her father by this announcement. She’d only agreed to talk to Antonio later. Nothing more. But she wasn’t about to say anything. Not now.
‘You and Paige are having supper together?’ her father challenged. ‘Tonight?’
Antonio didn’t look at all concerned by his employer’s tone of disapproval. ‘I trust you have no objection to that?’ he returned,