you will.’
Sam looked at him searchingly, once again able to see that cruelty in Malcolm’s eyes and in the harsh slashes beside his nose and mouth. She wanted Daisy to have nothing to do with this man. Being her daughter’s biological father didn’t make Malcolm any less the cruel and controlling man he had always been beneath that outward layer of social charm. There was no telling what damage Malcolm might do to Daisy emotionally if he were to obtain weekly visiting rights with her.
‘Why are you doing this, Malcolm?’ she prompted emotionally, knowing she was on the verge of tears. And she really didn’t want to give Malcolm the satisfaction of reducing her to tears, when he must already be aware, by the hold he had of her wrist, how badly she was shaking. ‘Why?’
‘Obviously because I’ve decided that I want you back in my bed.’ He shrugged.
Sam stared at him dazedly. ‘I don’t love you, Malcolm. I don’t even like you!’
‘What has that got to do with anything?’ He looked at her pityingly. ‘The thing is, Sam, I really don’t like the idea of you belonging to any other man but me. I realised when I saw you again the other night that what’s mine should stay mine.’
‘I don’t belong to anyone, Malcolm.’
‘Not for the past three years you haven’t, no.’ Malcolm confirmed that he really had had her investigated. ‘And you aren’t going to belong to anyone else now, either. So I suggest that you and Daisy move out of Sterne’s apartment as soon as you’ve told him your little affair is over. Preferably before the end of the week,’ Malcolm bit out.
Sam frowned. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘That’s a pity.’ His tone was deceptively mild.
And Sam wasn’t deceived for a moment. ‘You don’t understand,’ she came back agitatedly. ‘I don’t live with Xander Sterne, I work for him. As his carer,’ she added impatiently as Malcolm eyed her sceptically. ‘He was involved in a car accident, and now needs help to—to—’ Somehow Sam didn’t think it was a good idea to tell Malcolm that one of the things she did for Xander was to help him in and out of the shower! ‘I cook for him and help him when necessary,’ she substituted.
Talking of which, it was almost time for her to drive Xander to his physiotherapy session as Paul had the day off.
‘And those duties include you sleeping with him too?’
‘You’re wrong!’ Embarrassed colour heated her cheeks as she recalled how close she had come to doing exactly that on Saturday night.
A guilty blush which caused Malcolm’s eyes to narrow dangerously. ‘Even if what you say is true, you aren’t seriously expecting me to believe that Xander Sterne has a beautiful woman living in his apartment with him, but that he hasn’t slept with her yet?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m telling you,’ Sam maintained stubbornly.
‘And there’s no yet about it,’ she added firmly. ‘I’m only staying at his apartment for a couple of weeks,’ she insisted. ‘Just until his brother returns from his honeymoon. You were at the wedding on Saturday, too, so you know I’m telling the truth.’
‘About Darius being away on his honeymoon, at least, yes.’ He nodded. ‘If what you say is true—’
‘It is.’
‘Then it won’t be difficult to find someone else to take care of him while his brother is away so that you can move out in the next few days.’
Not difficult at all, which was why Sam was so grateful to have this job at all; the Sterne family could have employed anyone to care for Xander, but they had chosen her, Andy had chosen her.
‘I can’t do that,’ she insisted, knowing she couldn’t let Andy down, or forget the fact that the money she earned these two weeks would pay her bills.
Malcolm now eyed her thoughtfully. ‘You’ve changed, Sam; once upon a time you wouldn’t have dreamt of answering me back.’
‘Once upon a time I was stupid enough to think myself in love with you, too!’ she replied heatedly, knowing she shouldn’t antagonise Malcolm in the circumstances, but totally unable to stop herself from retaliating to that last jibe.
His mouth twisted into the semblance of a smile. ‘But not any longer.’
‘That’s one of the reasons we’re divorced, remember?’ Sam eyed him warily.
‘I remember only too well.’ Malcolm’s mouth thinned. ‘I have never liked failure, Sam. And I definitely consider my marriage to you to be in that category.’
She gave a pained frown. ‘And whose fault was that? If you had told me you didn’t want children then I would never have married you in the first place.’ Having long been an orphan, Sam had always wanted children of her own. She hadn’t just wanted children, she had ached for a family of her own, to love and care for, and to be loved and cared for in return. Instead she had got Malcolm.
And Daisy...
Daisy made up for all the pain, all the disillusionment of those unhappy years of being married to a man as cold and controlling as her ex-husband.
She would do anything to protect Daisy.
Anything at all.
‘I want you back in my bed, Sam, and I think you know me well enough to know that I’ll use any means at my disposal to achieve that,’ Malcolm informed her confidently.
Almost as if he had been able to read her thoughts.
And maybe he had. Malcolm already knew that Daisy was Sam’s weak spot, her Achilles heel. And now he was once again using that weakness to his advantage, in an effort to force her into resuming a relationship with him. A relationship that horrified Sam so much she felt physically ill.
‘No,’ she answered him woodenly.
He arched mocking brows. ‘No?’
‘No,’ she repeated firmly.
She had thought about this all weekend, finally accepting that she couldn’t allow herself to be browbeaten by Malcolm again, to be forced into becoming his mistress. She just couldn’t!
There had to be some other way. Some way to stop his blackmail once and for all. There just had to be.
‘And if I insist?’
Sam was breathing hard, her emotions in turmoil. But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t, give in to Malcolm’s blackmail. Because she knew that once it started it would never stop. Until one day she would wake up and find herself once again imprisoned, totally entrapped.
She drew herself up determinedly. ‘You can insist all you like, Malcolm, but my answer will still be no.’
He shrugged, his fingers once again tightening painfully about her wrist. ‘Obviously you would rather the two of us talked through our lawyers.’
‘I would rather—’
