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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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I needed a break.’

      ‘One would think if you wanted to be with family you’d have come a week earlier and celebrated Christmas with them.’

      Oh. ‘I’m ashamed to say I left it too late and the airlines were fully booked.’ She refused to look away beneath his close scrutiny. Look away and he’d know she was lying.

      ‘That’s too bad.’

      ‘I’m here now.’

      ‘So you are,’ he said lazily, eyes still locked on hers.

      Justin, obviously feeling the weird tension, switched topics. ‘Our Dane won Babe’s Bachelor of the Year contest.’

      ‘Is that so?’ Mariel lifted her glass and took a sip to soothe her throat, noting the dark look Dane flashed at the other man.

      ‘You remember the one,’ Justin went on. ‘Babe magazine runs it every year.’

      ‘Ah, yes, that magazine,’ she drawled, infusing her tone with a large dollop of sarcasm, and was rewarded with a flare of colour on Dane’s cheekbones.

      And what do you know? Dane Huntington, master of cool, actually looked hot. The hot-and-bothered kind of hot. Amused, she watched his head tilt as he stretched his neck, as if easing the tension there. The smile that touched her lips was more of a smirk.

      ‘The side benefits: dates with ten different babes.’ Justin grinned, with the devil’s glint in his eyes.

      Mariel’s stomach clenched around the image Justin provoked, but she held on to that smirk for all she was worth.

      ‘Uh-oh, my wife’s giving me the eye,’ Justin said. ‘I’ll leave you two to catch up. Great seeing you again, Mariel.’

      ‘You, too.’ Mariel smiled at an attractive brunette watching them as Justin threaded his way in her direction, then turned back to Dane. ‘So…Babe’s Bachelor of the Year, huh? How does it work again?’

      ‘Like Jus told you,’ he clipped. ‘A bit of fun. And it’s for a good cause. Charity fund-raiser. I need a refill—how about you?’ Jutting his chin, he motioned her away from several interested onlookers towards a punchbowl in the middle of a table.

      He ladled orange liquid into two crystal cups, offered her one. ‘Thank you,’ she said, careful to avoid contact with his fingers.

      ‘You mean these babes—’ Mariel drew the word out with sarcastic relish ‘—wherever they come from, they rate the contestants and the highest score wins? What are they scoring you on, I wonder?’ She couldn’t help the wicked smile…but inside, somewhere deep and almost forgotten, something hurt. ‘I can’t wait to see you on the cover of the magazine.’

      He shook his head. ‘It’s not as bad as you think.’

      ‘How bad am I thinking?’

      ‘The date ends at the front door.’

      Biting back resentment that she thought she’d got over years ago, she said, ‘That’ll be a novelty for you, then. I’ve heard you’re a regular Casanova these days.’

      His lips stretched into an indolent grin that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Don’t believe everything you hear.’

      The back of her throat tickled at the sound of that lazy tone. She glanced down, flicking her eyes to his again before they had time to indulge in the snug fit of his jeans and the way his exclusive hand-made casual shirt clung to his chest, even if the seam was too narrow for his broad shoulders. ‘If you’re going to look the part you’ll really have to update your wardrobe, or acquire a new tailor.’

      ‘Ah, ever the fashion designer. And looking a million bucks tonight,’ he said, his gaze skimming her body, just a tad longer than might be considered polite in company. ‘One of your designs?’

      She met his eyes, paused, smiling inwardly, then sipped her drink. ‘No.’ Hah. He obviously knew nothing about her designs.

      ‘That’s right—you’re a photographer’s model these days. I saw your picture in a magazine here a couple of months back. Phoebe showed us. Very nice.’

      His gaze swept over her once more. Was he comparing her to his girlfriends? According to Phoebe’s regular newsy e-mails from home, Dane enjoyed more than his fair share.

      It no longer bothered her. After all, she’d put Dane in her past where he belonged years ago. Hadn’t she? Standing here, within his all-too-compelling aura, she wondered if she was as certain about that as she’d thought.

      ‘Not any more.’ She took another long gulp to wash the sudden bitter taste of Luc’s betrayal from her mouth.

      ‘Oh?’

      ‘There you are, Mari,’ Phoebe interrupted with breathless haste, clutching her mobile to her breasts and saving Mariel from having to discuss her ruined career.

      ‘Hi, Dane.’ She barely spared him a glance, and Mariel had the fleeting thought that life had gone on here as usual while she’d been away. Phoebe leaned in and murmured, ‘Kyle just rang. He wants to meet me. Now.’

      Mariel stared at her sister, incredulous. ‘And you agreed? What happened to your New Year’s resolution?’

      Phoebe bit her lip. ‘I know, I know, but…’

      ‘Don’t let him call the shots, Pheebes.’

      ‘I won’t. But I’ve got to meet him halfway, don’t I?’

      Mariel raised a brow at the gleam in Phoebe’s over-bright eyes. ‘And where’s that?’

      ‘Um…a spot we like to go. Oh, and in case I don’t see you, I won’t be around when you get up. I’m on an early-morning flight to Melbourne. There’s a music festival on. So I’ve asked Brad Johnston to drop you home. You remember Brad; he’s keen to catch up with you again.’

      ‘Ah…’ Stomach sinking, she glanced over Phoebe’s shoulder, saw the familiar fuzzy-haired guy weaving his way through the crowd. More than keen, if Mariel wasn’t mistaken.

      ‘You two came together?’ Dane asked.

      ‘Yeah, my wonderful sister came to keep me company…um…because Kyle couldn’t make it. You don’t mind, do you, Mari?’

      ‘Of course not, but I think you should consider—’

      ‘No need to bother Brad,’ Dane cut in, his voice disturbingly deep, disturbingly close. ‘It’s all arranged, I’m taking Mariel home.’

      Chapter Two

      ‘OH? OKAY…but…’ Phoebe’s eyes darted between the

      two of them.

      ‘I’ll let Brad know,’ he told her.

      ‘Okay. Thanks, Dane. See ya later, sis.’ Phoebe pecked Mariel’s cheek and was gone in a whirlwind of pink and perfume.

      ‘Arranged?’ Mariel muttered, glaring at him while every internal organ traded places.

      ‘Wait here,’ he ordered, and was gone before she could utter another word of protest.

      Hardly. But she stood immobile, feet stapled to the floor, while she watched him dispatch Brad in less than five seconds. Why weren’t her legs moving? Why wasn’t she getting the heck away before it was too late?

      Dane could tell Mariel was unsettled by the sudden turn of events as he made his way back. Her eyes glinted dangerously, that beautiful mouth a slash of coral in her pale face. But, he noted with satisfaction, she’d made no attempt to disappear amongst the guests.

      ‘I was hoping to leave early,’ she said the moment he reached her side. Setting her cup down, she unzipped the diamante bag that swung from her shoulder. ‘About now,


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