Love Islands…The Collection. Jane PorterЧитать онлайн книгу.
I call you that? That is what you are,’ he said smoothly. ‘Surely you didn’t think you could just waltz back into my life and start demanding money but somehow avoid discussing our marriage?’
She shivered as his gaze fixed on her bare ring finger but, refusing to be cowed, she drew back her shoulders and met his stare defiantly.
‘I don’t want to talk about our marriage.’
‘Clearly,’ he said softly. ‘If you had, you would have got in touch over the last five years.’
She felt the blood drain from her face. ‘There was nothing stopping you from getting in touch. And I didn’t waltz back into your life and demand anything. I’m here because you insisted that I meet you and now you want to dictate what we talk about.’
Her voice echoed round the room and, looking up, she froze. The restaurant was no longer packed with diners. In fact she and Malachi appeared to be the only two people remaining, apart from the businessmen at the bar. She watched, her stomach clenching, as a waiter discreetly cleared a table and left the room.
‘We need to leave,’ she said hurriedly, glancing round again. ‘Lunchtime service is clearly over.’
Glancing over his shoulder, Malachi shrugged. ‘They can wait.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘You are so arrogant. These people have lives, Malachi. You can’t just expect them to hang around for hours.’
‘Why not? That’s what they’re paid to do,’ he said casually.
She glowered at him. ‘But not by you.’
There was a sudden, stinging pause. Glancing up, she saw that he was surveying her steadily, an odd light in his eyes. And suddenly the penny dropped.
‘You own this place?’ she croaked.
He nodded slowly, enjoying her shock. ‘Yes, I do.’ He paused, and there was a courteous edge to his voice that disguised the brutality of his words. ‘That’s why I chose to meet you here.’
She stared at him in confusion. For a moment her mind simply couldn’t absorb his words. ‘But you didn’t choose to meet me,’ she said slowly. ‘I followed you here.’
He looked at her almost regretfully, and suddenly her heart was beating so fast she thought it would burst. Glancing over at the men at the bar, she felt her jawline tighten. Had she really thought they were businessmen?
She shook her head in disbelief at her own naivety. ‘You had me followed. By them.’
Their eyes met—hers wide with outrage, his shimmering with satisfaction and her hands balled into fists. He was enjoying himself, the bastard!
He shrugged. ‘It’s their job. They spotted you outside the office.’
Heat was blistering her skin. He’d played her—acting as if he was surprised when all along he’d known she was coming. She felt a spasm of nausea. But was it that surprising, really? He’d always been good at pretending. Look at the way he’d convinced her that he loved her.
She stood up so suddenly that the men at the bar leaped off their stools.
‘I should never have come here. As if you could ever behave like a mature, responsible adult—’
‘Sit down.’ Leaning forward, he spoke quietly, but the authority in his voice was enough to make her stop and look at him.
‘Why? I don’t want to talk to you.’
‘Yes, you do. That’s why you followed me.’
He leaned back in his seat, unfazed by her anger, and irritably she realised that despite her plans he was the one calling the shots. He always had been. It was just that she hadn’t realised it until that moment.
‘Come on, Addie. Sit down.’ His voice had shifted, softened. ‘Look, I’m going to give you your money. I always was.’ Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the table. ‘It’s a copy of a bank transaction. It was wired to your account...’ he glanced casually at his watch ‘...about twenty minutes ago.’ His eyes flickered over her taut expression. ‘Relax, sweetheart. You got what you came for. That is what you came for, isn’t it?’ He smiled. ‘Now, why don’t you just take a seat and we can both try and act like mature, responsible adults.’
Trying to keep what little remained of her dignity, she sat down and stared at him coldly.
His eyes gleamed. ‘Go on. Take it.’
Reluctantly she reached out and picked up the slip of paper. Staring down at it, she felt her face drain of colour. ‘This is the wrong amount.’ She looked back down, then, blinking, lifted her head in confusion. ‘This is double what I was expecting.’
His eyes didn’t leave hers. ‘Think of it as an anniversary present.’
Carefully she put the paper down on the table. ‘That’s incredibly generous of you,’ she said hoarsely.
‘I’m glad you approve.’
His tone was pleasant, but something in his eyes made a shiver of apprehension run down her spine and she glanced nervously at the slip of paper again, half feaing she might have imagined it. But it was definitely real.
‘It really is very generous,’ she said stiffly. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done if I hadn’t got the money. It means so much to me. Thank you.’ She breathed out. ‘How long will it take to clear?’ She knew she sounded gauche but she didn’t care. If Malachi wanted to gloat—let him.
‘Around two hours.’ He paused and looked past her at the dark clouds and the grey swelling sea outside, and she felt that shiver of apprehension spike painfully through her skin. ‘But before you start spending it I need to make a few things clear.’
She nodded. ‘Of course. Do you want me to sign a contract? I can do that now.’
He turned and slowly, very slowly, smiled at her.
‘That won’t be necessary. You see, that money didn’t come from King Industries. It came from me. From my personal bank account. And my terms are personal too.’
She swallowed—or tried to swallow at least—past the lump in her throat.
‘What do you mean “personal”?’ she croaked. Around her the air felt hot and leaden and the room was growing darker. ‘What do you mean?’ she repeated, and the lump felt sharp and jagged now.
His voice was soft, just as it had been when he’d promised to love and honour and cherish her for ever. But the lines of his face were knife sharp and harder than stone.
‘I’ve been very patient, sweetheart, but you owe me a honeymoon.’
‘I—I don’t understand.’
His gaze swept over her slowly.
‘Then let me explain. I want you to come away with me for a month. To be my mistress.’
His eyes locked on to hers, pinning her against the leather upholstery.
‘Do that and you can keep the money. Who knows? There might even be a little bonus in it for you as well.’
THERE WAS A LONG, pulsing silence. Across the table, Addie stared at him in mute disbelief, unable to believe what she had just heard. Slowly she picked over his words inside her head, turning and twisting them like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, trying to make a different meaning. But each time the picture was the same.
His mistress!
The word sounded even harsher inside her head than