no choice.
‘We need money.’ Oh, hell, this was hard. ‘To pay some debts.’
‘Debts which will soon accumulate and escalate to a repeat of this situation within a very short space of time.’
He knew. He had to know. Jacob would have told him, and it wouldn’t take much to access the true state of their miserably dire state of affairs.
She wanted to weep, but strong women don’t succumb to emotional distress.
‘Please.’ Desperation fractured her voice.
‘There are conditions.’
She expected no less. ‘What do you propose?’ Inside she was a mess of jangling nerves.
‘I clear all debts, and fund Jacob through medical school.’
Millions of dollars.
Her brother’s discarded dream fulfilled.
A substantial financial package, for which payment in one form or another would have to be made.
She needed for him to spell it out. ‘In return for…what?’
‘I want what I once had.’ He watched the realization sink in, then hammered it home. ‘You. As my wife.’
Colour leeched from her face, and for a few seconds it seemed as if the room took a slight sideways tilt.
Wife?
She had a sudden need to sit down, yet to do so would betray her vulnerability. And she refused to give him the satisfaction.
Yet there was nothing she could do about the way her heart raced to an accelerated beat at the thought of that hard, muscular body entwined with her own in intimate possession, enticing, sharing…gifting the ultimate tactile pleasure, with his mouth, his hands.
As it had been during those brief few days of their marriage, when he’d introduced her to the sensual delights of the flesh, and she’d believed herself to be in love and loved.
Even now she experienced dreams so exquisitely sensual she woke bathed in sweat…and wanting.
Kayla could only look at him, aware to a frightening degree of his strength of will and the power he wielded.
‘Revenge, Duardo?’
He took his time in answering. ‘Everything has a price.’ Eyes as dark as sin seared her own. ‘My terms,’ he enforced with dangerous silkiness. ‘Accept or reject them.’
Commit herself to him, accept him into her body, play at being wife…
‘For how long?’ The query fell from her lips.
‘As long as it takes.’
Until he tired of her? Live on a knife-edge, waiting for the figurative axe to fall?
She couldn’t do it.
Yet what choice did she have?
None. Zilch. Nada.
A pulse hammered at the edge of her throat as she fought the temptation to turn and walk out the door, out of his office…his life.
It didn’t help that he knew. Or that he was intent on playing a deliberate game, pushing her buttons…simply because he could.
‘I hate you.’ Her voice was a vengeful whisper dredged up from the depths of her soul.
‘For reclaiming you as my wife?’
‘For using me as human collateral.’
‘Careful, querida.’ His warning held a dangerous silkiness that mocked the endearment.
She almost told him to go to hell.
Almost.
Only the vivid image of Jacob lying injured in a hospital bed, and the very real implication of what would inevitably follow without a large injection of cash stopped her wayward tongue.
There was only one way out of this mess. Only one man who could help.
‘You want me to write it in blood?’
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘Your acceptance?’
Her eyes flashed with brilliant blue fire. ‘Yes, damn you!’
Duardo pushed himself away from the edge of his desk in a single fluid movement and closed the space between them. ‘Your gratitude is underwhelming.’
‘What did you expect? For me to fall on my knees at your feet?’
‘Now, there’s an evocative thought.’ His drawl held a degree of cynical humour, and brought a rush of colour to her cheeks.
Dignity. She reined it in and with her head held high she moved back a pace. ‘Are you done? I need to go see Jacob, then get to work.’
She walked towards the door, pausing halfway to look back over her shoulder. ‘I imagine you’ll be in touch when the legalities are in place?’
He hadn’t moved, yet she had the impression his hard-muscled body was coiled, ready to spring.
‘There’s just one thing,’ Duardo declared with hateful ease. ‘The deal is effective immediately.’
‘Excuse me?’
He extracted his cellphone and extended it towards her. ‘Call the restaurant and terminate your employment.’
His eyes hardened as she opened her mouth to protest. ‘Do it, Kayla. Or I will.’
When she refused to take the cellphone, he flipped it open and made two consecutive calls which effectively left her jobless.
The fact he knew where she worked and who to call made her want to hit him. ‘Bastard,’ she bit out in husky condemnation, watching as he pocketed the cellphone and moved towards her.
She was totally unprepared for the slide of his fingers through her hair as he held fast her nape and used the flat of his hand at the back of her waist to draw her in close.
Then his mouth was on hers, taking advantage of her shocked surprise to gain entry and begin wreaking havoc with her senses in a kiss that captured and staked a shameless claim.
For a few brief, heart-stopping moments she forgot who she was, or where…There was only the man, his sensual power, remembered desire and an instinctive need to meet it.
Recognition, in its most primal form.
Except a part of her brain, her heart, provided an intrusive force. That was then…not now.
Oh, dear God.
Realisation caused her to wrench free…an action that was all the more galling
