The Millionaire's Redemption. Therese Beharrie

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The Millionaire's Redemption - Therese Beharrie


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on him—had destroyed him in the media—and he’d begun to wonder what the point of trying was. If they wanted a bad boy, that was what they would get. And they had—for an entire year. The worst time of his life...

      ‘I don’t know why I let you fluster me.’ Lily’s words tore him from his thoughts. ‘I know you’re teasing.’

      ‘And if I wasn’t?’

      She sent a look at him that had him smiling.

      ‘Nice try, but it isn’t going to work again.’

      ‘It was worth a shot. How else would I be able to see the wonderful colour your cheeks turn when you’re flustered?’

      She shook her head, and with her bottom lip between her teeth looked away.

      Because he saw the very colour he’d been talking about again, he grinned. ‘This is fun.’

      ‘For you, maybe,’ Lily answered, but she didn’t seem upset. ‘What did Caitlyn say to you when she called you back?’

      ‘You saw that?’

      She nodded, and it took him a few seconds to decide what to say to her.

      ‘She told me to be careful with you.’

      Lily nodded again, her face pensive, and then her eyes shifted to something behind him. She moved closer and gave him a whiff of citrus and summer. It was a heady combination, he thought as his body tightened, and he assured himself that that was the only reason for his reaction.

      ‘Our plan seems to be working.’ Her curls shook as she lifted her head to look at him. ‘Kyle barely seems to be paying attention to his—’

      Her eyes widened and she bit her lip again. The prickle in his body became an ache.

      ‘Date?’ he offered, to distract himself, but couldn’t help the hand that lifted to tuck a curl around her ear.

      ‘Sure—let’s go with that,’ she murmured, and fluttered those dark lashes up at him.

      The ache was replaced by a punch to the gut.

      ‘Why do I need to be careful with you?’

      It suddenly seemed imperative for him to know.

      ‘You don’t...’ she breathed, and electricity snapped between them.

      ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m tired of being treated like I’m going to break. My fiancé cheated on me. I was—’ She stopped, and there was a flash of vulnerability on her face before it was replaced with a fierce expression. ‘You don’t have to be careful with me. Treat me as you would any other woman.’

       CHAPTER THREE

      JACQUES’S EYES FLICKERED down to her lips, and Lily realised how her request sounded. Under any other circumstance she would have been mortified at the implication of her words. Now, though, she wanted Jacques to take advantage of the ambiguity. She wanted to be taken advantage of...

      ‘I wouldn’t be pretending to be your boyfriend if you were any other woman.’

      His voice broke into her thoughts and she blushed at the direction of them, wondering where they’d come from.

      ‘Why are you doing this for me, then?’

      The heat she’d thought she’d seen earlier in his eyes cooled into an enigmatic expression.

      ‘Besides the fact that you basically forced me to on the stairs?’

      She nodded, feeling her blush deepen.

      ‘At first because I couldn’t imagine anything better than making Kyle Van der Ross uncomfortable. Now it’s because I want to make him jealous.’

      He looked at her, and she realised they were having this conversation in an awfully intimate position. She took a slight step back, to give herself some air—and to prevent herself from being distracted by his scent—but stopped when he placed a hand gently on the small of her back.

      It sent her next question stammering from her mouth. ‘Wh...wh...why?’

      He smiled at her—a soft smile that was in stark contrast to his intimidating masculine presence—and she wondered what she was missing. A man like Jacques wouldn’t be interested in her. And even if he was the last thing she wanted was to get involved with someone who could shatter the self-esteem she had fought so hard for.

      The self-esteem she was still fighting for.

      ‘He cheated on you, Lily. And only the most despicable of men hurt the women they claim to love in that way.’ His face no longer held an easy expression. ‘Besides, I like helping you. And before you ask me why, it’s because I like you.’

      ‘You barely know me,’ she retorted. It was easier than acknowledging the truth of his words.

      ‘I know that you had the guts to leave someone who cheated on you. I know that you’re loyal enough to come to your best friend’s engagement party even though you knew your ex would be here. You’re innovative—I don’t think I know many other people who would come up with the idea of a stranger pretending to be their boyfriend—and you’re thoughtful enough to let your friends know about the charade so that they don’t get upset. What more is there?’

      He grinned, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Hearing him describe her like that sent a gush of warmth through her body. But it didn’t seem right. Not when she was used to harsh words. Not when she was used to people telling her how she should look. How she should be. And from her parents—from Kyle, too, she’d realised too late—how much better she could be.

      ‘Fine—you know things about me,’ she said, when the silence had extended a tad too long. ‘How about you share something about yourself, then?’

      ‘Sure,’ he replied easily, and touched her waist to shift her to the left. ‘It’s easier for Kyle to see you like this.’

      Her skin felt seared at his touch, and her thoughts went haywire for a second. And in that second she saw herself pressed against Jacques, kissing him until she no longer knew who she was.

      She shook her head, thinking that she didn’t know who she was now. This woman having inappropriate thoughts about a man she barely knew was definitely not her. She’d never gone that far—even in her most lonesome of days.

      When she’d been overweight it had been easier to avoid attention. And even when she’d lost some of her weight she had still been too afraid to put herself in a situation where men might hit on her.

      It had been on the one night Caitlyn had convinced her to go out—in their final year at university—that she’d met Kyle. He’d been the first person to treat her like a woman, and not like ‘the girl who lost weight’. His attention had been flattering, overwhelming. She’d fallen hard, and had been swept into his world like a commoner into a castle.

      His offhand comments about her looks—he hadn’t seemed to have a problem with her weight, but her hair, her face, her clothing were still fair game—hadn’t mattered when he could make her feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet with one look. His suggestions as to how she should act, what she should say, how she might do better had been irrelevant when he was treating her to fancy dinners, to expensive gifts.

      ‘What do you want to know?’

      Jacques was watching her, and her face heated even at the thought of him knowing what she was thinking.

      ‘How’d you get the scar?’

      He frowned, as though he wasn’t sure what she was talking about. And then his hand lifted and he rubbed his thumb over the scar. Lily was hit with the desire to do the same, and she clenched her hand, determined not to be caught in this attraction


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