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Hotbed of Scandal: Mistress: At What Price? / Red Wine and Her Sexy Ex / Bedded by Blackmail. Kate HardyЧитать онлайн книгу.

Hotbed of Scandal: Mistress: At What Price? / Red Wine and Her Sexy Ex / Bedded by Blackmail - Kate Hardy


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A very expensive piece of precision machinery.’

      ‘So am I, darling.’ His eyes met hers over the bonnet and she wished she could unsay the flirty words which once would have brought a laugh to his lips. This time his lips didn’t even begin to crack a smile.

      She slid into the driver’s seat, adjusted the mirrors while Dane made himself comfortable beside her—if sitting ramrod-straight and listing her way like a sinking ship could be termed comfortable.

      ‘Relax, I’m not seventeen any more,’ she reassured him.

      ‘You’ve been driving in Europe for ten years. Don’t forget which side of the road you’re supposed to be on,’ he told her. ‘And remember, driving a car’s like making love. You handle her gently.’

      ‘Really?’ She caressed the steering wheel a moment, studying him closely until he turned a quiet shade of pink. ‘That’s where I disagree with you. I’d say it’s more about passion. Fast and furious.’ She flashed him a quick grin and pressed her foot hard on the accelerator.

      ‘What’s the dress code for tomorrow night’s do?’ she asked ten minutes later as they coasted down the freeway towards the haze-covered city. ‘Black tie? Formal?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘I’ll need to buy a dress.’

      His head was tilted back on the headrest, and his sunglasses hid his eyes, but she felt his gaze on her. ‘Just keep in mind that I want to be able to slide my hands down your spine when we smooch on the dance floor.’

      The way he said it—slow, sexy and appreciative—sent hot and cold shivers down her back. To make sure he didn’t get the wrong idea, she said, ‘To give everyone the impression we’re a couple, right?’

      He didn’t answer.

      She cleared her throat. ‘Any further requests? Colour?’

      ‘Surprise me. But make sure the zip glides easily. I wouldn’t want to snag the fabric.’

      Her pulse did a fast blip.

      ‘When we get to town we’ll organise a credit card for you,’ he said. ‘I’m guessing you’ll want the whole deal: shoes, hair, etcetera. It’s an important occasion for me, so don’t skimp.’

      ‘I never do.’ Rather, she never had. ‘So what’s the evening about?’

      ‘It’s the year’s major fund-raiser for a charity I founded a few years ago called OzRemote. This dinner and ball raises funds to support kids in the Outback with no access to computers or modern technology.’

      ‘So you donate computers?’

      ‘It’s more involved than that. Money raised can pay experts in the field to visit remote stations, instal equipment and offer technological support. I’ve got a trip coming up soon which will take me as far as the northwest corner of the state.’

      ‘As I remember, Bachelor of the Year entrants have to raise a certain amount of money before they’re eligible for judging and the “fun” part with the babes.’

      ‘Correct.’ He named a figure that had her nodding with approval.

      ‘Impressive. I’ll be sure to choose something appropriate to the occasion.’

      The office space Dane was offering her was small, but Mariel focused on the positives. She had an address for her business when she eventually opened. Somewhere to store stock, spread out her designs and create in the meantime. She could renovate the little space at the front, dress up the window to attract customers. Employ her own tailor. Dreams, she thought. But they were her dreams, and Dane was going to help make them happen.

      After he dropped her at the car dealer she collected her car, then drove back to her parents’ home and packed her stuff to take to the city. She planned to spend the rest of the day on the all-important purchase of that evening gown.

      Since this was an annual event, before leaving home she surfed the Internet for information on last year’s ball. There she found a photograph of Dane and a prominent politician’s daughter.

      Blonde, big-breasted, statuesque. Naturally. Her full-length gown was an elegant sweep of crimson and the neckline dipped low. Very low. Dane’s hand was curled around the woman’s bare shoulder, hugging her close. Mariel ignored the little twinge. Her emotions were not going to become involved in this…affair they were embarking on.

      It was late afternoon when she pulled up outside the address he’d given her in one of North Adelaide’s leafy upscale streets and rang him to say she’d arrived. No pesky reporters that she could see as the high gates swung open.

      She took a moment to admire the magnificent two-storey villa, with its bay window and its intricate detail in the veranda columns, stark white against the dark stonework of the nineteenth-century dwelling. A stone cherub cavorted in the midst of a circle of carefully tended low shrubs.

      She manoeuvred her car into the empty spot beside Dane’s Porsche and sat a moment, rolling her head back on the headrest. She was smart enough to know this arrangement couldn’t lead anywhere. Dane wasn’t her type, and he didn’t do long-term relationships. But, oh, he only had to stand in the same room with her and her libido responded with a kind of sit-up-and-beg.

      She didn’t have time to ponder further because Dane appeared to help her unload her car. She followed him through a back door in the garage and around to the rear of the house.

      Greenery and a variety of colourful flowering bushes filled an area enclosed by high stone walls. An inground pool mirrored the sky. A wall of glass doors, clearly a modern addition, opened onto the deck. He led her inside, through a kitchen boasting the latest appliances while retaining its old-world charm. They passed comfortable-looking dark leather couches and a vermilion rug on a polished blonde-wood floor. But it was the stunning chessboard on the coffee table that commanded her immediate attention.

      ‘Oh, wow! This is magnificent.’ She wandered over for a closer inspection.

      ‘Black and white crystal. Handcrafted. One of a kind.’

      Mariel picked up the king. It was comparable to a shampoo bottle in height, and like the other major pieces was tipped in gold. Dane flicked a switch on the side of the board, which was inlaid with mirrors and frosted glass, and the whole thing lit up from beneath. Another switch changed the colour of the light.

      ‘That is one of the most magnificent boards I’ve ever seen.’

      ‘I don’t suppose you’ve learned to play?’ he asked hopefully.

      ‘You know me—couldn’t sit still long enough.’

      ‘Pity. Nothing I like better than a challenging game of chess.’

      And obviously he didn’t get the opportunity often, she thought, noting the fine layer of dust covering the entire thing. ‘Your father taught you, didn’t he?’

      ‘One of the few lessons of any value that I learned from him.’ His clipped, cold tone didn’t invite further conversation on the matter.

      Thoughtful, she set the piece down. It saddened her to think that after all these years there was obviously still bitterness between them. Not that she blamed Dane—it was just sad.

      Upstairs, they passed an open doorway. ‘Is this your home office?’ Without waiting for an invitation, she wandered to the balcony. Adelaide’s high-rise buildings jutted into an azure sky smeared with orange in the lowering sun, its reflection in the glass of the buildings flashing over the nearby golf course’s casuarinas and pine trees. She breathed in the scents of summer foliage. Someone was cooking something Oriental; the fragrance of lemongrass and chilli wafted to her nose.

      She turned to study the room. An over-crammed bookcase towered against one wall; an antique green lamp sat on the desk beside a modern computer. School trophies and a collection of model cars were displayed on another


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