Mistress to the Merciless Millionaire. Эбби ГринЧитать онлайн книгу.
would be. Tiarnan watched her reaction, the shock on her beautiful face, those amazing blue eyes framed with the longest black lashes. Saw the way the candlelight flickered over her satin smooth skin, the slope of her shoulders, the swell of her breasts above the dress. His body hardened and Tiarnan shifted, uncomfortably aware that he wasn’t used to women having such an immediate effect on him. He enjoyed always being in control, and yet he could already feel that control becoming a little shaky, elusive…Sitting here with Kate now, the thrill of anticipation was headier than anything he’d felt in a long time.
He’d paid over half a million dollars, just like that. The amount staggered Kate, and yet she knew to Tiarnan it was like small change. That was a fraction of what he gave to charity every year.
‘At least it’s for a good cause,’ she said a little shakily.
The waitress arrived then, with two glasses. She placed napkins down, and then the drinks, and left.
Tiarnan reached out a strong, long-fingered hand and raised his glass towards her, an enigmatic gleam in his eyes. ‘A very good cause.’
Kate raised her glass too and clinked it off his. She had the very disturbing impression that they weren’t talking about the same thing. Just then his fingers touched hers, and a memory flashed into her head: her arms wrapped tight around his neck, tongues touching and tasting. Tiarnan’s hands moving to her buttocks, pulling her in tight so she could feel the thrillingly hard ridge of his arousal. She could almost hear their heartbeats, slow and heavy, then picking up pace, drowning out their breathing—
Kate jerked her hand back so quickly that some of her drink slopped out of the glass. Her skin felt stretched tight, hot. She couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like her worst nightmare and her most fervent dream.
She took a quick sip, all the while watching Tiarnan as he watched her, hoping that he couldn’t read the turmoil in her head, in her chest. The whiskey trickled like liquid velvet down her throat. She wasn’t used to this, that was all. Tiarnan didn’t seek her out. She only ever saw him with Sorcha, or when lots of people were around. When Sorcha had lived with her in New York and Tiarnan had called round or invited them out to dinner Kate had always made an excuse, always made sure she wasn’t there as much as possible.
But facing him now…that kiss earlier…She was helpless to escape the images threatening to burst through the walls she’d placed around them. Tiarnan leant back, stretching out his long legs, cradling his glass as if this were completely normal, as if they met like this all the time. The latent strength in his body was like a tangible thing.
Kate had to close her eyes for a second as she battled against a vision of him pulling back from kissing her, breathing harshly—
‘So, Kate, how have you been?’
Her eyes snapped open. What was wrong with her? Normally she managed to keep all this under control, but it was almost as if some silent communication was going on that she knew nothing about—something subversive that she was not in control of, messing with her head. She’d never been so tense. But she told herself she could do this—do the small-talk thing. And after this drink she’d make her excuses and get up and walk away—not see Tiarnan for another few months, or even a year if she was lucky.
So she nodded her head and smiled her most professional smile, injecting breeziness into her voice. ‘Fine. Great! Wasn’t Molly’s christening just gorgeous? I can’t believe how big she is already. Sorcha and Romain are so happy. Have you seen them since? I’ve been crazy busy. I had to go to South America straight after the baptism. I got back a few days ago and I flew in tonight for the benefit—’
She took a deep, audibly shaky breath, intending to keep going with her monologue, thinking Just talk fast and get out of here even faster, when Tiarnan leant forward and said with quiet emphasis, ‘Kate—stop.’
CHAPTER TWO
KATE’S mouth opened and closed. With just those two words she knew that he was seeing right through her—again. Silly tears pricked the backs of her eyes. He was playing with her, mocking her for her weakness, as if he’d known all along. So she asked the question, even though she knew it would give her away completely,
‘Tiarnan, what are you really doing here?’
His face was shuttered, eyes unreadable. The dim lights cast him half in shadow, making him look dark and dangerous. Like a Spanish pirate. His shoulders looked huge. Kate’s insides ached as only the way a body recognising its mate ached. Its other half.
Her soft mouth compressed. She’d tried to tell herself that what had happened between them hadn’t been unique, hadn’t been as earth-shattering as she remembered, but…it had. Since that night, no one had ever kissed her the way he had—with such devastating skill that she’d never been able to get over him. He’d imprinted himself so deeply into her cells. Just one kiss, a mere moment, that was all it had been, but it had been enough.
She repeated the question now, a throb of desperation mixed with anger in her voice, even leaned forward, put her glass down. She wanted to shout at him to just leave her alone, let her get on with her life so she could realise her dream: find someone to love. Have a family. Finally get over him.
‘What are you doing here, Tiarnan? We both know—’
‘We both know why I’m here.’ His voice was harsh. The piano player was between numbers, and the words hung almost accusingly in the soft silence. Time seemed to hang suspended, and then the piano player started again and so did Kate’s heart, and she desperately tried to claw back some self control and pretend that he wasn’t referring to that night.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Tiarnan took a swift drink and leaned forward to put his empty glass down on the table. The sound made Kate flinch inside.
‘You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. That explicit look you gave me in France, and what didn’t happen that night.’
Oh, God. Kate felt the colour drain from her face. She was officially in her worst nightmare. She knew he’d seen her weakness in France—but she just hadn’t been able to hide it. And if Tiarnan Quinn was known for anything, it was for sensing weakness and exploiting it ruthlessly.
She forced herself to meet his gaze, even though it was hard, and her voice came out low and husky. ‘That night was a long time ago—and you’re right. Nothing happened—’ She stopped ineffectually. What could she say? If you’re thinking if I still want you, even after a humiliating rejection, then you’re right. Bitterness rose within her.
He was still sitting forward—predatory, dangerous. He said softly, in that deep voice, ‘I’d call that kiss something happening, and that look told me that you’ve been just as aware of this build-up of sexual tension as I have.’
Kate shook her head fiercely, as if that could negate this whole experience. Shame coursed through her again at her youthful naivety, and yet her body tingled even now, when humiliation hung over her like the Sword of Damocles.
Why was he bringing this up now? Was he bored? Did he think he’d seen an invitation in her eyes that day at the christening? She burned inside at the thought and rushed to try and fill the silence, the gap, to regain some dignity.
‘Tiarnan, like I said, it was a long time ago. I barely remember it, and I’ve no intention of ever talking about it or repeating the experience. I was very young.’
And a virgin. That unwanted spiking of regret shocked Tiarnan again, and suddenly the thought of other men looking at her, touching her, made him feel almost violent…
He said nothing for a long moment. He couldn’t actually speak as he looked into clear blue eyes not dissimilar to his own. They were like drops of ice but they couldn’t cool him down. Tiarnan fought the urge to reach across the table and pull her up, crush her mouth under his, taste her again.