opened a briefcase that was lying on a table near the window. He took out a document and brought it over. ‘You should read it before you sign it,’ he said, his expression now inscrutable. ‘The full amount we agreed on will be transferred to your account on the completion of your stay.’
Gisele looked at the sheaf of papers, wishing she could walk away. But two million dollars was not the sort of money she could turn her back on right now. She took pride in her success so far; it had helped her cope. How much better would she feel if her baby wear became even more successful? What else did she have in her life other than her shop? It wasn’t as if she was ever going to get married and have a family now. That dream was long gone.
She took the papers and sank to the nearest chair, casting her eyes over the words printed there. She read it in detail but it was as straightforward as he had said. After the month was up she would be two million dollars richer and would owe him nothing. She signed it with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. ‘There,’ she said, shoving the papers at his chest.
He put them to one side before he faced her again. ‘So, it looks like we have a deal.’
She lifted her chin. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You just signed away two million dollars.’ For nothing.
His lips moved up in a curl that had a hint of mockery about it. ‘How long do you think you will hold out, mmm? A week? Two?’
She glared at him fiercely. ‘If you want a bedmate then you’ll have to look elsewhere. I’m not interested.’
‘You’re planning your own little payback, aren’t you?’ he asked, still with that sardonic half smile.
Gisele felt a betraying flush stain her cheeks. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said.
‘You think I don’t know how your mind works?’ he asked. ‘You plan to make me suffer every minute of the time we spend together. But do you really think that by snipping and snarling at me it will make me want you less? Don’t fool yourself, Gisele. You will sleep with me again, not because I paid you, but because you just can’t help yourself.’
Gisele thought she couldn’t hate him more than at that moment. She wanted to slap his arrogant face for assuming she had no self-control, no discipline and no self-respect. ‘I hate you with every cell in my body,’ she snarled at him like a cornered cat, all claws and bared teeth. ‘Do you realise that? I hate you.’
Emilio’s calmness riled her even further. ‘The fact that you feel something for me is good,’ he said. ‘I can handle anger. It is far better than cold indifference.’
Gisele was determined she would show him just how cold and indifferent she could be. ‘OK then.’ She kicked off her heels and began to unzip her dress. ‘You want me to sleep with you? Then let’s get it out of the way right here and now.’
He stood there watching her silently, hardly a muscle moving, apart from his eyes. She saw the flare of his pupils, the primal signal of male attraction as she stepped out of her dress, leaving it in a puddle of fabric on the floor. She was standing in just her bra and knickers before him. She had stood in a whole lot less before him two years ago. But suddenly she felt naked in a way she had never felt before. A shiver broke out over her skin and her stomach curdled at the thought of going any further with this.
She put her hands behind her back to unhook her bra but her fingers were suddenly fumbling and useless. She felt as if she was going to cry. The emotions were like a fountain inside her that had been blocked. The pressure was building and building. She could feel it behind her eyes; she could feel it inside her chest, a tight ache that burned like fire.
‘Get dressed,’ Emilio said curtly as he turned away.
Gisele felt as if he had ripped the ankle-deep carpet out from under her feet. She had been prepared to play him at his own game but he had somehow turned the tables on her. He wanted her but on his terms, not hers.
She felt foolish.
She felt uncertain.
She felt rejected.
She watched as he walked over to the bar and poured himself a drink. He tipped back his head and drained his glass and then set in down on the bar with a thump. His shoulders looked tense; the muscles were bunched beneath the fine cotton of his shirt. She remembered how those muscles felt under the soft pads of her fingertips, how she used to massage away those tight knots, how she used to press her mouth to that hot, salty male skin …
Gisele ran the tip of her tongue over her bone-dry lips. ‘So,’ she said, summoning up what was left of her paltry attempt at cold indifference, ‘I take it you no longer require my services this evening?’
Emilio turned to look at her but his expression was difficult to read. ‘I will have a meal sent up to you presently,’ he said. ‘Please make yourself at home. I’m going out.’
‘Where are you going?’ The question was out before she could stop it and, to her shame, it sounded scarily close to one a jealous wife might have asked.
He turned from the door and raked her with his cold indifferent gaze. ‘Don’t wait up,’ he said and then he was gone.
Gisele picked up one of her shoes and threw it at the door, angry tears spilling from her eyes. ‘Damn you,’ she said. ‘Damn you to hell.’
Emilio entered the penthouse at two in the morning. He had walked the streets of Sydney for hours, determined not to return until Gisele was safely out of his range. His body had ached to take what she was offering so defiantly but he was not going to give her any more reasons to hate him. He would bide his time, waiting for her to come to him, as he knew she would. One night would not be enough for either of them. He was counting on that. He knew as soon as she gave in to the sexual chemistry that sizzled between them she would want more. She was bitter and angry but he knew she would get over it. Time was a great healer and a month was surely long enough to see if what they had shared together before could be resurrected.
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