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Taming the Rebel Tycoon: Wife by Approval / Dating the Rebel Tycoon / The Playboy Takes a Wife. Элли БлейкЧитать онлайн книгу.

Taming the Rebel Tycoon: Wife by Approval / Dating the Rebel Tycoon / The Playboy Takes a Wife - Элли Блейк


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there you are,’ he said, his taut expression clearing. ‘When you weren’t upstairs I started to wonder where you’d got to. How’s the ankle this morning? It looks as if the swelling’s gone down…’

      Appearing relaxed and easy now, he came over and, tilting her chin, kissed her mouth.

      A lover’s kiss.

      For a split second she stood as though turned to stone, then, on a reflex action, she jerked her head sharply away.

      His dark level brows drawing together in a frown, he queried, ‘What’s the matter?’

      Momentarily unable to speak, she shook her head.

      ‘Something must be.’

      ‘I couldn’t find my phone,’ she said in a rush, ‘and I wanted to call a taxi.’

      ‘Why do you want a taxi?’ he asked evenly.

      ‘Because I’m leaving.’

      His tawny eyes narrowed. ‘What’s happened to make you want to leave?’

      ‘Nothing,’ she lied desperately. ‘I just think it’s time I went. So, if you don’t mind—’

      ‘Oh, but I do.’ Suddenly he was looming over her. ‘After all we’ve shared, I mind very much that you want to walk out without any explanation.’

      Gritting her teeth, she said boldly, ‘I don’t have to give an explanation. Surely the fact that I want to leave is enough. Now, if you’ll please let me have my mobile back.’

      When he merely looked at her, she reminded him, ‘You kept it last night after you’d called Mullins—’

      ‘In that case it must be in my pocket…’

      Shaking her head, she began, ‘It isn’t—’

      He raised a dark brow. ‘How do you know?’

      Seeing her flush guiltily, he observed, ‘So you’ve been going through my pockets?’

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she said jerkily. ‘I should have asked you, I know, but I’m afraid I acted on impulse…’ The explanation petered out.

      ‘And did you find anything interesting?’ he queried with smooth mockery.

      Nettled by his tone, she flashed back, ‘Only a torch that lit.’

      ‘Really?’ he drawled. ‘Then there must have been a loose connection.’

      When he said nothing further, deciding to let it go, she gritted her teeth and returned to the point. ‘So please can I have my mobile?’

      ‘If it isn’t in my pocket, I’m afraid…’ With an elegant gesture of apology, he spread his hands, palms upward.

      ‘I don’t believe you don’t know where it is.’

      ‘And I don’t believe that you suddenly want to leave Anders for no good reason.’

      Realising that she was fighting a losing battle, she said shortly, ‘Whatever you believe, you can’t prevent me from going.’

      ‘Don’t be too sure about that.’

      Suddenly scared, she brushed past him, catching the edge of the file that was lying on his desk, knocking it to the floor and spreading the contents.

      Even as she stepped over the papers and headed for the door, part of her mind registered the fact that several of them bore a stylized logo.

      Her hand was on the knob when Richard caught her arm and swung her round. Then, turning the big key in the lock, he dropped it into his trousers pocket and stooped to gather together the contents of the file.

      As he dropped it back on his desk, she faced him defiantly. ‘You can’t keep me here against my will.’

      ‘Maybe not for any length of time,’ he admitted. ‘But certainly for the moment.’

      ‘I insist that you let me go.’

      ‘Even if I did, it would be extremely difficult for you to leave without some kind of transport…So suppose you tell me the truth.’

      Biting her lip, she said nothing.

      ‘I can only presume it’s something to do with Helen’s visit,’ he hazarded. ‘Something you overheard, perhaps?’

      When she remained stubbornly silent, he sighed.

      ‘What a shame the thumbscrews aren’t handy,’ she taunted with sudden recklessness.

      Between thick dark lashes his eyes gleamed green as a cat’s. ‘There are other ways.’

      Though he spoke lightly, she felt her blood run cold. Still she braved it out. ‘Such as?’

      He smiled mirthlessly. ‘Judging by the way you shied away when I kissed you, I gather you’d prefer me not to touch you?’

      She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘You’re quite right, I would.’

      ‘You didn’t seem to feel that way last night.’

      ‘I do now.’

      A little smile playing around his chiselled mouth, with slow deliberation he began to unbutton his shirt before pulling it from the waistband of his trousers.

      ‘What are you doing?’ she cried, aghast.

      ‘Taking off my clothes. Perhaps you’d like to do the same?’

      ‘No, I wouldn’t.’

      ‘Well, I could take them off for you,’ he suggested. ‘On the other hand, I haven’t made love fully clothed since I was an impetuous teenager, so it might be something of a novelty.’

      ‘I don’t want you to make love to me,’ she cried in a strangled voice. ‘I don’t want you to touch me.’

      ‘So you said. But if you really don’t want that, then you’ll tell me why you’re so intent on leaving.’ When she stayed mute, with a suddenness that took her completely by surprise, he pulled her close and, neatly hooking her feet from beneath her, followed her down, his arms breaking her fall.

      Flat on her back on the thick-pile carpet, she made an attempt to struggle free but, catching her wrists, he pinned them over her head.

      His shirt was open and, looking up at his broad chest, the strong column of his neck, the tender hollow at the base, she felt her stomach clench.

      As calmly as possible, she said, ‘Let me go.’

      By way of answer, he put his lips to the pulse fluttering wildly in her throat.

      Thickly, she insisted, ‘If you don’t let me go this instant I’ll scream.’

      His smile maddeningly cool, he said, ‘Do you think I’d allow you to? In any case, there’s no one to hear you. All the household servants are at chapel.’

      He brought her wrists together and, holding them in one hand, used the other to unfasten the buttons of her blouse.

      Then, flicking it open, he ran a fingertip beneath the edge of her low-cut bra and heard her breathing quicken even more. His finger delved a little deeper and he watched with satisfaction as her nipples firmed visibly beneath the delicate material.

      Still she held out and he bent his head.

      Feeling the heat and dampness of his mouth through the satin and lace, she began to shudder. ‘Don’t,’ she whispered in desperation. ‘Don’t…’

      ‘Why not? You liked it last night.’

      ‘That was before…’

      ‘Before what?’

      She threw in the towel. ‘Before I knew you were planning to get married.’

      ‘Ah,’ he said softly, ‘so


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