The Brazilian's Blackmail Bargain. Эбби Грин
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I could possibly use this for my own ends. You have no heart.’
A flash of something crossed his face for a split second; if Maggie had been less biased at that moment she could almost have said it was hurt. But him? No way. The man wasn’t capable of such a feeling. As if to confirm her opinion, his face was like a mask again—it must have been her imagination.
He ignored her words. ‘And this will happen when you’ve given me what I want.’
‘When I’ve slept with you.’
‘For two months or as long as I desire you.’
‘What if that’s only one night?’ she said defiantly.
He stepped closer again and stopped just short of her. His scent enveloped her. She froze. ‘Oh, but it won’t be, Maggie. I can tell you that much.’
Turning her back for a moment, she sought some respite from his laser-like gaze. Her hands twisted as her mind raced. Their house was worth millions by now…She hadn’t a hope of raising that kind of money, and it wasn’t about the money. That house was where her mother should be able to live out her days. In peace at last. For Maggie’s whole life she had protected her mother. Sometimes more successfully than others. Ever since the first time she’d tried ineffectually to come between Tom’s fists and her mother’s body. She’d been just six years old and she still bore the scar of that day.
But Tom was gone. This was her mother’s last chance of happiness and if she could make sure it happened, undo the wrong that had been done, then she had to. Somehow…and she couldn’t think now, not when he was so close…she would have to do this. She turned around again and faced Caleb unflinchingly, determined not to let him see how she had crumbled inside. She hitched her chin. ‘And if I’m not here tomorrow?’
At the look on her face Caleb felt a bizarre lurch somewhere in his chest. For a split second he actually wasn’t sure if she would do this…and didn’t like how that felt. At all. Not after having decided that he would take her as his mistress. He quashed the doubt and the feeling ruthlessly. She was just playing him, probably already trying to figure out how much she could walk away with, which he vowed would be nothing more than he was prepared to give. He stood to his full intimidating height and glanced at the heavy platinum watch that encircled one brown wrist. ‘You would now have one week and six days to move out of that house before I move in.’
She watched as Caleb started to walk away, no hint of the passionate kiss they’d just shared in evidence anywhere. He wasn’t tousled and shaking like her. He was cool and almost…bored. As if he did this sort of thing every day. He turned, closing his top button, straightening his tie.
‘It’s up to you, Maggie. Be here tomorrow or say goodbye to the house. You can let yourself out.’
And then he walked out the door.
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