Tycoon's Blackmailed Mistress Page 7

  “You haven’t even seen it yet,” he pointed out dryly, moving toward her.

  “No, but—”

  “It isn’t jewelry, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

  They both knew that wasn’t really what bothered her. It was the attraction between them. The sensual tension that threatened to spiral out of control every time they were together.

  He stopped right in front of her. She could smell his aftershave, a distinct scent of sandalwood and cedar that endorsed his masculinity and threatened to overwhelm her.

  Feeling it would be churlish to refuse now, she shakily held out her evening purse. “Hold this please,” she said, accepting the small box from him. The quicker she got this over with the better. And, yes, she really was a little excited to be getting a present.

  She ripped the paper slightly as she undid the package to reveal a bottle of an expensive perfume she’d wanted to buy herself for ages but hadn’t. This particular scent was way out of her price range these days, and when she could have afforded it—when she’d been married—she hadn’t wanted to wear it. Not for Robert.

  “Oh, my.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  Her eyes shone. “Of course I do. I love it.”

  “ Allure,” he murmured. “I think the name’s appropriate, don’t you?”

  A quiver surged through her veins. “Thank you,” she said, deciding to ignore the remark. “It’s just what I wanted.” About to place the box down on the sofa, she froze as he reached out and touched her arm. Without warning, a billow of awareness fell over the room.

  “And this is what I want,” he drawled, putting his hand under her chin, tilting her mouth up to him.

  It happened so suddenly she didn’t have time to react the way she knew she should. Instead, she trembled as his head lowered toward her. Trembled, but her lips parted even before their mouths touched.

  It was a stunning kiss, one that swept her straight back to yesterday, to being in his arms, him doing delicious things to her, doing them with just his mouth this time, nothing else. Nothing but his tongue sliding over hers, his velvet touch so very sensitive against her own. So sensitive that her senses reeled.

  She moaned but he continued to caress the moist cavern of her mouth, gentle yet demanding, coaxing her toward abandonment, toward the sensual heaven he offered.

  And then, ever so slowly, he began to ease back. He teased her lower lip with his teeth for a long moment, letting the air move in where before there was only him.

  Finally his head lifted. He stared into her eyes, his own dark and sensual. “Happy birthday for yesterday, Danielle,” he murmured.

  “I…” She swallowed, licked her lips, tasted him there. “Um…thank you.”

  Giving her a look that said he wasn’t unaffected, either, he took the package out of her hands and replaced it with her purse. “Let’s get out of here,” he growled. “Before I kiss you again.”

  She let him lead her to the door, the touch of his hand searing through the material of her sleeve, the scent of him making her light-headed as they rode down the elevator.

  Without speaking they walked out the building toward his parked car. She tried to clear her mind of him but it was impossible with his presence beside her.

  It was no better in the confines of his Mercedes. He was so close, almost touching, he only had to lean toward her, pull her toward him.

  She swallowed. If it didn’t smack of cowardice, she would have hopped out right then and there, thanked him for the offer and gone home. An evening spent watching television was better than feeling so…Well, it was better than feeling. Period.

  Flynn caught her sneaking a look at him and braked. “It was just a kiss,” he rasped.

  Her throat felt dry. “I know.”

  “Then don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” she said, despite herself, despite knowing what he’d say.

  “Like you think I’m going to devour you at any moment.”

  Devour? Yes, he was like a tiger circling her, ready to leap and make love to her at the first hint of weakness. If she ever let him past her guard, she’d pay for it dearly.

  His sensuous lips began to twitch. “I promise you I only pounce when there’s a full moon. And there’s no full moon tonight.”

  The absurdity of it made her smile to herself. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Relax, Danielle.”

  She arched an elegant brow. “Now that is asking too much,” she mocked, and received a stunningly sexy smile in return.

  Fortunately for her, he pulled out of the parking spot and they drove the few kilometers along the waterfront in a less tense atmosphere. The amazing orange of the sky as the sun started to sink below the horizon calmed her and made her feel as if she might just be able to get through this evening.

  Situated on the esplanade, the restaurant was fashionably busy. The maître d’ welcomed Flynn with reverence and immediately escorted them to an intimate table for two in the corner with a spectacular view of the now dark, turquoise ocean beaded by the last rays of the setting sun.

  But she couldn’t look out the window forever, and eventually turned back to the beauty of her immediate surroundings. Leafy ferns near their table provided a sense of privacy she could have done without as she glanced around the elegant decor, honing in on the small dance floor at one end of the room. Her skin quivered at the thought of dancing in Flynn’s arms, but perhaps she was getting ahead of herself. Perhaps he didn’t dance.

  And perhaps the world had just stopped turning. There was no way he wouldn’t take the opportunity to get her in his arms again. She knew that as surely as sexual appetite was his middle name.

  “They seem to know you here,” she said for something to say after the waiter took their order for drinks.

  “I’ve been here once or twice.”

  With who? she almost asked, then decided it was none of her business whom he took to dinner.

  Right then, a tall, extremely handsome and well-dressed man around Flynn’s age spied them from across the room and came striding toward them.

  “Flynn, I thought that was you,” he said with a smile that said he was really pleased to see him.

  “Damien,” Flynn said, surprising Danielle when his face relaxed into a smile, surprising her even more when he stood up and the two men gave each other a brief hug.

  Flynn pulled back. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Rome this week.”

  “I was, but I had to come back for a series of meetings in Sydney.” Damien glanced at Danielle and gave her the full impact of his shrewd, knowing eyes. “Hi, I’m Damien Trent,” he said, holding out his hand. “And I’ll be taking my last breath before my friend bothers to introduce us.”

  She put her hand in his and gave a polite smile. “I’m Danielle Ford.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, those eyes studying her in a fashion that reminded her of the man standing next to him.

  Goodness, here was another ladykiller, she mused.

  Damien looked back at his friend. “I’ve been meaning to arrange a poker night for when Brant gets back from his honeymoon.”

  Flynn gave a wry smile, though Danielle sensed he’d noted Damien’s scrutiny of her. “I doubt he’ll want to play poker for a while yet.”

  Damien grimaced in good humor. “Don’t tell me that. I’ll be shattered if Kia doesn’t let him come out to play once in a while.”

  Flynn laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure he’d rather play poker with us than spend time with his new wife.”

  “You have a point. Kia’s a beauty. A man would have to be crazy to leave her side for even a minute.” He glanced over his shoulder at the woman at his table. “And speaking of leaving a beauty alone, my date’s looking impatient.”

  “Anyone we know?” Flynn mocked with what was obviously an in-joke.

  Damien gave a low chuckle. “No.” He held out his hand for Flynn to shake. “Look, I must run. We’ve got ti
ckets for a show. I’ll give you a call next week about the poker game.” He inclined his head at Danielle. “Nice meeting you, Danielle,” he said, then strode back over to the other side of the restaurant where the blonde sat at a table waiting for him.

  Danielle watched the man walk away, then glanced at Flynn. “He seems like a good friend of yours.”

  Flynn sat back down, his smile disappearing as an invisible barrier came back up. “Yes, he is.”

  And that was all he said.

  Just then the waiter brought their drinks over, a mineral water for her and a whiskey for Flynn.

  Once they were alone again, Flynn picked up his glass, the material of his suit making a soft, sensual sound as he raised his hand in a toast. “Happy birthday for yesterday, Danielle.”

  She raised her glass and clinked it against his, the small action somehow more intimate than it should be. “Thank you,” she said, avoiding his gaze as she took a sip then quickly set the glass down on the table, almost as if it burned her.

  She thought of something to say. Something that didn’t hint at touching each other. “I gather that was Brant Matthews you two were speaking about?”

  He gave her a dry look. “What do I get for telling you the answer?”

  “A pleasant evening,” she quipped.

  “And if I don’t tell you?”

  “A pleasant evening by yourself.”

  He gave a soft chuckle that rippled along her spine. “Then I’d better answer. I don’t want to give you any excuse to leave.” He leaned back in his chair and took a mouthful of his drink before speaking. “Yes, it was. Brant, Damien and I grew up together.”

  She’d read about Brant Matthews in the newspapers, so she knew he and Flynn were millionaires. And Damien looked just as successful.

  “Was that here in Darwin?”

  “Yes. In the same street actually, though the area’s a bit more upmarket now than when we were kids,” he said with dry humor.

  “Do you still have family here?” She found it odd thinking of him with parents and perhaps brothers and sisters. He seemed such a loner at times.

  “My parents are dead.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” Despite his toneless response, she knew the loss he must feel without them in his life.

  He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. My mother died when I was young and my father eventually drank himself to death,” he said with a grim twist of his lips.

  Her heart cramped with sympathy for him. He wouldn’t want her pity but she couldn’t help herself. “That’s so sad.”

  “I survived.” His look said he was what he was today because of his past, and he’d make no apologies for that. “Now tell me your life story.”

  She let out a slow breath. He gave an inch but wanted a mile out of her. “My parents are dead, too. They both drowned at the beach when I was thirteen,” she said quietly. “We used to live in this little town on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland, until my mother got swept out to sea by a rip and my father tried to save her.”

  His mouth flattened in a grim line. “Life stinks at times,” he said tersely.

  “Yes, it does,” she said, feeling that same old tightening in her chest whenever she thought of them. “After it happened, I felt like I’d never laugh again. But life goes on. I moved in with an elderly aunt here in Darwin. She treated me like a daughter but she died a few years later. I decided to stay anyway. I had nothing to go back for.”

  He studied her. “You were young to be on your own.”

  “I survived,” she said, mocking his own words.

  Only, he didn’t smile as intended. His gaze continued to search her face. She could feel him trying to look inside her mind, her heart, her soul. She tried to break away from that mesmerizing look but couldn’t.

  Thankfully the waiter returned with the menu and she was able to look away and take a breath. Flynn ordered swordfish steak without reading the menu but she spent the next few minutes deciding on a seafood cocktail entrée, followed by Tasmanian grilled salmon. Through it all, she could still feel him watching her, assessing her through her past.

  “How long were you married?” he suddenly demanded, once the waiter departed.

  She took a sip of her drink before answering. “Three years.”

  “Were you happy?”

  Her hand gripped her glass tighter. “No.” Those years had almost choked the life out of her. Of course, he wouldn’t understand that. As far as he was concerned, she and Robert deserved each other.

  He frowned. “No?”

  “I guess that’s not entirely true. The first year Robert and I were quite happy.”

  A nerve pulsed near his temple. “So what happened?”

  She expelled a shaky breath. “I just don’t know. One minute we were in love and the next…it was gone.” She grimaced. “Perhaps if Robert and I had lived alone it would’ve been different. But with Monica there, as well—”

  “Monica lived with you?” he said, his eyebrows shooting upward.

  “Yes. Robert didn’t want to leave her on her own, and I could understand that. Her husband died years ago. Until I came along it was only her and Robert.”

  One corner of his mouth twisted. “Her husband’s probably not dead. He’s hiding.”

  She gave a delicate snort. “Don’t I know how that feels.”

  He watched her with a measuring look. “You got out, that’s the main thing. It would have taken courage standing up to someone like Monica.”

  She blinked rapidly even as a lump welled in her throat. He was admitting that he understood about Monica, at least, and that touched her deeply.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “It did take courage.”

  He considered her across the table. “I gather this is the basis for your stand on independence?”

  She inclined her head. “Yes. Having someone like Monica around really made me appreciate living alone.”

  And Robert had been his mother’s son.

  “Does she frighten you?”

  She paused. “You asked me that last night, too, and I said no.”

  “Are you sure that’s the truth?”

  She tilted her head with a frown. “Why are you pushing?”

  He shrugged. “No reason.”

  “Tell me about your job,” he suddenly said.

  She hesitated, confused by all the questions. “Er…what do you want to know?”

  “You said yesterday Monica expected you to be home from work in time for her arrival. So I gather you work. I’m interested in what you do.”

  Her brow lifted. “You mean, you don’t already know?”

  “No.”

  She sent him a wry look at the one-word answer. “My friend Angie owns a boutique and I work there three days a week.”

  “Have you been there long?”

  “Long enough,” she quipped, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

  Just then, a curtain rolled back at the end of the dance floor to reveal a woman sitting at a piano. At the sound of applause, she burst into a song. Danielle appreciated the interruption and sent Flynn a wry smile, receiving a knowing look in return.

  The songs continued while they ate their way through their meal, talking only sporadically. The singer had a very good voice so it was pleasant listening to her. Besides, it gave Danielle the chance to gather her thoughts before the next onslaught from Flynn.

  Then the singing finished to further applause, but the woman continued to play. One of the couples rose from their table and strolled out to dance on the parquet floor, slipping into each other’s arms as if they knew exactly where they were supposed to be in this world.

  Then another couple followed and another. She didn’t want Flynn to think she wanted to dance, so she looked down at her plate and began pushing the remaining salmon around with her fork.

  “You’re not hungry?

  She glanced up and gave a polite smile. “It’s delicious but I don’t seem to have much of an appetite lately.”

>   He placed his napkin beside his empty plate. “You’ll have dessert.”

  She bristled slightly at the order. “None for me.”

  “But you’ve got to have something for your birthday. What about some of that chocolate concoction the woman over there is eating?”

  Danielle glanced at the other table and felt sick at the thought of more chocolate. “No, I couldn’t. Three o’clock this morning I was eating celery dipped in a jar of hazelnut chocolate. Lovely at the time but—”

  “You should be doing other things at three in the morning,” he suddenly growled, bringing sensuality back into focus. Without warning, he stood up. “Dance with me.”

  Her heart jumped in her throat as he helped her to her feet, then walked her out to the floor. She knew she went into his arms as if she were made to be there, just like those other couples had with each other.

  He pulled her close and she quivered and gave a small sigh, giving herself up to the moment, unable to fight him this one time. He smelled so good, so wonderful, so Flynn. His hand was against her back, caressing her, holding her against him, as if he’d never let her go.

  Long moments crept by as they danced slowly around the dance floor, a possessive gleam in his eyes that both thrilled and disturbed her.

  “Did you know your eyes turn smoky-blue at certain times?” he murmured thickly.

  Her throat went dry. “When I’m angry?”

  “When something moves you. When you get passionate.”

  Her breath caught in her lungs. “You shouldn’t talk like that.”

  A muscle pulsated in his cheek. “We’re adults, Danielle. We’re allowed to talk any way we want.” His arms tightened around her. “And do anything we want to do.”

  Her heart rate accelerated as if someone had pressed a button inside her and forgot to stop. There was a whole other subliminal conversation going on beneath their words…had been going on from the moment they’d met.

  “I…um…need some fresh air,” she said, her heart thudding against her ribs.

  His gaze rested on her heated face. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  “Ye—” she swallowed “—yes.”

  She didn’t look at him as she let him take control, while he paid the bill and ushered her through the restaurant and across the road to Bicentennial Park. She needed to get outside, to inhale some night air fresh from the ocean.