Seduction: The Billionaire's Bride of Vengeance. Miranda Lee
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balcony,’ he pointed out. Surely she had to be on the make. No girl who lived the life of luxury Nicole Power had lived would rave over this modest place.
‘Not that small,’ she insisted. ‘You have an outdoor dining area on it. It’s nicely private and north-facing. It must be lovely in the winter.’
‘It is, actually,’ he said, having not thought of his simple abode in such glowing terms before. ‘Weather permitting, I sit there in the sun every morning with a cup of coffee.’
‘I did wonder how you got your tan. Being a workaholic, that is,’ she added with one of her bewitching smiles.
He just stared at her for a long moment before turning to pour some orange juice into a glass. ‘Here. Drink this while you’re waiting for the food.’
He pushed it across the breakfast bar before returning his attention to the sizzling frying-pan, his thoughts spinning. Once again, she’d surprised and confused him.
When she didn’t say anything more he glanced over his shoulder to find her sitting there, slowly sipping her juice whilst watching him closely with an odd expression on her face.
‘What are you thinking now?’ he asked. Maybe if he kept her talking she might show her hand. He had to find out if she was being sincere, or if she was just saying what she thought he wanted her to say.
‘I’m trying to work you out,’ she said.
She was trying to work him out. Now, that was a laugh!
‘What’s to work out? I’m just a simple country boy who made good in the city.’
She shook her head at him, her expression wry. ‘Nothing is that simple. You’re certainly not. For instance, this is definitely the home of a man who isn’t interested in entertaining, or impressing the ladies.’
‘I did try to tell you I wasn’t a playboy, but you wouldn’t believe me.’
‘So if you’re not a playboy, or a show pony, then who is the man who bought our extremely ostentatious home in Belleview Hill?’ she persisted. ‘If you were the sort of man who wanted a flashy place, you’d already be living in one. You wouldn’t be living here. So tell me, why did you buy it?’
Russell jerked his eyes back to the frying-pan lest she glimpse the surge of vengeful fury which her provocative question evoked. The temptation to throw the truth at her was intense.
Because your rotten father was responsible for my wonderful father killing himself, he could hear himself saying. I vowed to one day take everything that bastard held dear. That’s why I bought his home. And why I bedded you, his darling daughter, last night.
But he didn’t say any of those words. Because he knew that would be the end of it. The end of him and Nicole.
As much as Russell craved revenge, it seemed he craved her more. He couldn’t bear the thought of her exiting his life. Couldn’t bear the prospect of never holding her in his arms again, never feeling what she could make him feel.
‘Russell?’ she probed. ‘Aren’t you going to answer me?’
‘Sorry. I find it hard to talk and cook at the same time. The thing is, I actually bought your place as an investment,’ he lied as he busied himself serving up their bacon and eggs. ‘I’d heard it was for sale and hoped to get a bargain. Admittedly, I was planning to live there for a while. That way I wouldn’t have to pay capital-gains tax when I eventually sold it. But James has already offered me a ridiculously large sum, which I am seriously considering.’ This part wasn’t a lie. James had made the offer when they’d had drinks at the house the other night. ‘Now that James is married with a baby on the way, he’s looking for a good-sized family home.’
‘Megan is expecting?’
‘You didn’t know?’
‘No.’
Russell could have kicked himself. ‘Keep it to yourself then, will you?’
‘Of course. Wow! Your friend has just gone up in my estimation. Let’s face it, wealthy men don’t have to marry girls they get pregnant these days. He must actually love her.’
Russell adopted a poker face. ‘I did tell you he was a good guy. Still, don’t relay any of this to that gossipy girlfriend of yours. Now, where would you like to eat breakfast? In here or out on the balcony?’
‘Definitely the balcony.’
‘That was ever so nice,’ Nicole complimented after she’d finished eating. ‘You are a very good cook.’
‘Not really. Bacon and eggs and toast are pretty foolproof.’
Nicole laughed. ‘Don’t you believe it. I could ruin them. I’m a dreadful cook.’
‘Lack of practice, I suppose.’
‘You’re right there. I’m totally useless around the house.’ From the time her mother married Alistair neither of them had had to lift a finger. Nicole had thought her life was wonderful at the time, not realising how spoiled and lazy she’d become.
She had to admire Russell. He’d made his own way in life, made his own fortune. Yet despite his material success, he wasn’t a show-pony. She liked that about him. A lot.
Her qualms over his being rich were gradually fading as well, Russell’s solid work ethics and simple lifestyle showing a man of character and depth. Surprising, though, that he hadn’t married. Possibly he hadn’t met the right girl. More likely, his priority had been making money. She wondered what was in his past which had fuelled his ambition. Nicole realised from her own experiences that past history was a great influence on the person you became. No one was immune to carrying emotional baggage. She’d had her fair share.
Still, if she was going to keep on sleeping with this man, she really should find out some more about him.
‘Tell me about your family, Russell,’ she asked. ‘Do you have any brothers and sisters?’
‘Nope. I was the only offspring.’
‘You said you were a farmer’s son. Whereabouts is your dad’s farm?’
He didn’t answer straight away, taking a sip of coffee first.
‘Dad passed away a long time ago.’
‘How sad. He must have been quite young.’
‘Only forty-five.’
‘What did he die of? Cancer?’
Once again he seemed reluctant to answer.
‘He shot himself,’ he said at last, the baldness of his statement at odds with the pain in his face.
‘Oh. Russell … Oh, how awful for you.’
Russell was startled when her eyes actually filled with tears. Her compassion moved him, for it seemed sincere. Suddenly, he wanted to tell her more. Not the whole horrible truth, of course. Just … more.
‘It was,’ he admitted. ‘The drought was very bad at the time and Dad had gotten himself into serious debt. Mum said afterwards that he’d become very depressed. When the farm was repossessed, he lost the will to live.’
‘I … I don’t know what to say …’
Her soft words of sympathy got to Russell even more than her tears. Every muscle in his body tightened, the control he usually had over his emotions in real danger of disintegrating.
‘It’s all right,’ he ground out through clenched teeth.
‘No, it’s not all right. Suicide is never all right. Your poor dad. And your poor mum.’
Hell, he’d made a mistake, going down this path. He could feel himself beginning to unravel, like long rows of knitting being wrenched undone. Soon, there would be nothing left