Love Islands…The Collection. Jane PorterЧитать онлайн книгу.
words filtered through her nerves. Miss Farrell. Not Mrs King. Not My wife.
‘They want you to spin the wheel.’
She gazed up at him through the confused tangle of misery and disappointment. ‘Spin the what?’
He gestured towards the roulette wheel. ‘It’s a tradition. It brings good luck to the house.’
‘I’m surprised you of all people believe in luck,’ she said lightly, pushing down the hurt in her chest. ‘You’ll be telling me next you believe in the tooth fairy.’
His eyes met hers: dark, mocking, compelling.
‘We have a saying in the casino, sweetheart. Luck is for losers. But it seems a little churlish to point that out right now.’
He smiled at her then—one of those devastating smiles that made her heart beat too fast.
‘Besides, everyone needs a bit of luck in their lives, don’t you think? For when the odds are really against them.’
Only of course the odds never were against Malachi. How could they be? He was the man who set them.
Finally the evening was over. As they left the casino photographers crowded onto the steps, calling out to Malachi, cameras flashing on every side as he replied with his usual sangfroid.
‘What do they want?’ she whispered.
‘They want to know who you are.’ His eyes were cool.
‘What did you tell them?’ She swallowed, trying to hide her longing.
‘I told them I wasn’t going to do their job for them.’
It was a good answer. Plausible and playful. And evasive. A perfect bluff, in fact.
Her heart was hammering so loudly it took her a moment to realise that the press were still shouting at them.
‘What are they saying now?’ she said dully as he slid his arm around her waist.
‘They want a photo.’ He smiled down at her.
‘Haven’t they got enough?’
‘They want a very particular kind of photo,’ he said softly and, pulling her firmly against him, he lowered his head and kissed her.
Light exploded around them, and despite herself Addie felt her stomach curl as he deepened the kiss to the roar of the photographers. It was over in a moment.
Lifting his head, he smiled at her lazily. ‘There. Now everyone’s happy!’
Except she wasn’t. Instead she felt restless, on edge—like a warrior getting ready for battle.
To Addie, the suite felt strangely still and quiet after the noise and drama of the casino.
Pulling loose his tie, Malachi walked slowly round her, studying her appraisingly, stopping behind her. Then, moving forward, he slowly began to stroke the back of her neck. ‘So. Did you enjoy yourself tonight?’
Addie nodded. She couldn’t run away from what had happened at the casino, but already her skin was tingling, her body leaning into his. ‘It was fun. I’m just sad it’s all over—’
Her pulse jerked as she felt his lips brush against her throat, and suddenly she was desperate for him to kiss her properly.
‘Don’t worry,’ he murmured, tipping her head back, his mouth teasing hers. ‘The fun’s only just beginning...’
Staring up at the moonlight, Malachi walked slowly across the rooftop terrace and sat down on a concrete bench. His face was impassive but his head was in turmoil. It had been a perfect evening. The casino had run like clockwork. All the VIPs had gone home happy. Everything had gone according to plan.
And Addie—she had played her part to perfection. She had been the most beautiful woman in the room. In that dark red dress she had been more intoxicating than a bottle of claret. All eyes had followed her around the room and having her beside him, her arm curled through his, had felt right. It had felt good.
His mouth twisted. Only that was the problem. He didn’t want it to feel good or right. Any more than he’d wanted to feel so out of control when he’d seen her with his father.
The truth was he didn’t want to feel anything at all.
A muscle tightenend in his jaw. He’d rather jump into a pool of sharks. It would certainly be less dangerous. Less painful. Although he knew he was probably alone in thinking that way.
His stomach tightened. But that was the point. He was alone. He always had been. And nothing and no one could change that fact. Especially not a woman who had traded sex for money.
‘Malachi—’
He turned.
Addie stepped forward, her face hesitant beneath the moonlight. ‘Is everything okay?’
He nodded. ‘Of course. I just needed some fresh air. Clear my head.’ He frowned. ‘You’re dressed!’
She was wearing jeans and his dress shirt. Her face was flushed.
‘I couldn’t find you. I thought maybe you’d gone downstairs. Then I remembered about the roof garden, so I thought I’d check up here first.’
He smiled. ‘I’m fine. I’m just a bit wired. It was a big night. Lots of things to get right.’
‘You did a good job.’ She smiled. ‘It’s a pity you can’t give yourself some kind of reward.’
He took her waist in both hands and pulled her towards him. ‘I did that earlier.’
She looked up at him, her eyes fixing on his face, her expression suddenly intent. ‘Is that what I am? A reward?’
He stared past her, her words trapping him against the concrete, panic rising up inside. What the hell had he done? All those years he’d held it together, had never said a word about his parents or his childhood to anyone. Then Addie came back into his life, with her questions and her concern and her soft blue eyes, and all those barriers he’d built between the world and himself had come crashing down. And this was the consequence. This assumption that she had some right to cross-examine him, to expect answers.
But it was going to stop now.
‘I like to think of you more as an asset.’ He met her gaze levelly. ‘Which reminds me—I’m flying down to Rio tomorrow. To look at a casino. I thought maybe you’d like to come with me. It’s a beautiful city. Perhaps we could go to Buenos Aires and Santiago. Maybe even Acapulco.’
Addie gazed at him warily, trying to contain the chaos and confusion inside. Something was happening. Something she didn’t quite understand. He was inviting her to go away with him and yet his manner was strangely detached, careless almost.
It had been such a tough couple of days. His parents’ party had been horrible. But for the first time she had actually understood what had made Malachi the man he was. And afterwards he had needed her—not for sex, but for comfort and support. They had seemed so close.
Only now that closeness felt like an illusion, a trick of her senses, for all evening he had deliberately chosen not to acknowledge her as his wife. And now he was inviting her to go to Rio with him. Not even as his mistress but as an asset—
Her heart bumped against her ribs as though it was warning her to stay quiet. But she couldn’t run away from this conversation. Not this time. Not after everything that had happened. ‘I’d love to go to all those places. But how does that fit in with our deal?’
There. She had said it. She watched his