The Tycoon's Blackmailed Mistress. Maxine SullivanЧитать онлайн книгу.
was well-off in her own right but had never discussed money and, in any case, she knew Monica had never suspected her son had a problem with money.
She certainly hadn’t suspected any problems, Danielle mused as she realized Flynn had walked over to the first-aid kit and was rummaging around in it. One thing was clear. No one would believe her if she chose to refute Robert’s claims.
“Why deny it?” Flynn said coldly over his shoulder, confirming her fears. “Your car alone cost fifty thousand dollars, not to mention your frequent European holidays and shopping sprees. Your credit cards were maxed to the limit, too.”
Credit cards? European holidays? Shopping sprees? She fought to take it all in. Had someone stolen her identity? It certainly hadn’t been her doing all those things. Robert had been the one to…
Oh, God. Is that what Robert had been doing on his frequent business trips? The ones where he’d wanted her to stay home as company for his mother?
As for the car, she’d had no idea of its cost. Robert had always seemed to have plenty of money and as far as she’d known, the car had been in his name only. He definitely hadn’t insured it. Or himself. If only he had, she could at least have paid back some of the money now.
And then something occurred to her. The holidays, the shopping, didn’t sound like something one did alone. Had Robert been unfaithful to her? Looking back, she knew he was selfish enough to want his cake and eat it, too. What sort of double life had he been living? And why didn’t that thought hurt as much as it should?
Suddenly she realized Flynn was in front of her, bringing her into the present with a rush. In that moment they were right back to one man, one woman.
Her heart gave a sudden lurch when he picked up her finger and covered it with the antiseptic cream before placing a plaster around it. The gentleness of his touch confused her. How could he be tender in one aspect and so hardhearted in another?
But she wasn’t about to show him her uncertainty. He would take advantage of it. “Mr. Donovan, you think I want you for your money, yet you’re willing to take me away with you? That doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” he murmured, his throaty tone faint but potent. “We were meant to spend time together.”
“Of all the…” She almost jumped to her feet but that would have brought her closer to him and at the last millisecond she stopped herself. His eyes darkened at how close she’d come to being in his arms.
She leveled him a look. “Don’t let me keep you,” she said, but cursed her husky voice and refused to allow the tip of her tongue to moisten her suddenly dry lips.
He cupped her chin with his warm fingers, holding her head still, as if he wanted to wet her lips for her. “You won’t,” he said huskily, his eyes intent on her mouth.
His head began to lower. She lifted her face up to him…ready…ready to become his.
And then he moved imperceptibly closer, and the movement broke through the fog of desire that seemed to swirl around them.
His? Dear God, what was she thinking? She never wanted to belong to another man again.
And definitely not Flynn Donovan.
She pulled her head back. “There is no way I’m going away with you,” she murmured, shaken at how close she’d come to kissing him.
Something flickered far back in those dark eyes before they flashed a now-familiar display of arrogance. “Is that so?” To prove his point, he lifted some strands of her hair from her cheek and tugged her toward him.
She held her head still, refusing to wince at the slight pain, unwilling to let him force her into submission. She wasn’t going to become his plaything. She couldn’t, despite the desire coursing through her.
“Do you think you could leave now?” she said coolly, determined not to let him see his effect on her. “I’m expecting a…” She paused deliberately. “Friend.”
He let her strands of hair drop back into place and drawled mockingly, “You have no…friend.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Perhaps I’ve been checking up on you?” He smiled in satisfaction when she jumped. “But that’s not how I know. A man just knows these things. You tremble when I touch you….” He touched her cheek. “See.”
She jerked her head away. “With revulsion.”
He gave a hard laugh. “That’s a new one. No woman has ever told me that before.”
“Then you’d better get used to it.”
“Why? Do you expect I’ll touch you a lot?” he mocked but his voice had a raw edge. His eyes raked over her. “No, you had better get used to the trembling. I intend to make you…tremble…often.”
She inwardly trembled now. “Stop playing games.”
“Oh, but the games have only just begun,” he said silkily. “You owe me money and I will collect.”
“Wh-what? Now?”
He seemed to take inventory of each feature on her face. “No. I’d rather wait and savor you in my own time, at my own pace.”
She felt as if her breath was cut off. “I’m not a delicacy to be enjoyed.”
“Really? I think you’d be very good in small bites.”
She snorted. “I would give you food poisoning.”
“Aah, but I’d enjoy myself first.” A sardonic gleam of amusement entered his eyes. “Just like you. Spend now, pay later. That’s your motto, isn’t it?” Without warning, one brow lifted with cynicism. “I wonder how many other people you’ve tried to cheat?”
She went rigid. She’d never tried to cheat anyone in her life. She’d always considered herself dependable and loyal. Even with Robert, she’d stayed with him because she’d believed in her marriage vows.
Of course, she hadn’t known Robert had taken his vows less than seriously in return.
“Nothing to say?”
These allegations had gone on long enough. She had to make him see sense. Yesterday she’d been shocked by his accusations and hadn’t really believed he intended to make her his lover.
But now…today…with him coming here…with his jet ready for Tahiti…she couldn’t let this sham go on.
Yet, dare she tell him? Would it make him even angrier with her when he knew he couldn’t have her? Why he couldn’t have her? Would he get spiteful, the way Robert used to when he didn’t get his own way?
She drew herself up without actually getting off the stool. “Mr. Donovan—”
“Flynn.”
“Flynn,” she said, conceding just this once. “I’m sorry, but there is no way I can share your bed.”
“You can’t, eh? And why would that be?” Thankfully he moved back to lean against the sink, but the sheer insolence in his stance made her heart dip. It was obvious he thought she was just being difficult for the sake of it.
Still, she had to try. She slipped off the stool, automatically arching her spine, her silky top a river of orange as it flowed into place over her white slacks. Her back was aching a little lower down but she hoped that was to be expected.
Then she heard him suck in a breath. “My God! Are you pregnant?”
Danielle straightened, shocked that he’d guessed the truth even though she wasn’t showing. And suddenly she was aware that her actions had spoken louder than words. Perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing. Hopefully for him to see that she was going to be a mother would be more effective than all the words in the world.
He