by Miranda Lee
‘Well, of course! Isn’t that what you wanted?’
Her words hit him like a low blow in the stomach.
No, of course that was not what he wanted. He wanted her as his wife, not his whore.
Still, he couldn’t deny she’d so aroused him that afternoon that he could not stand another moment’s torture.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said brusquely.
Her lovely but slightly glazed eyes blinked up at him. ‘But you just put a bet on that horsey for me.’
‘It’s collectable any time if it wins,’ he growled, and, taking her elbow, began to steer her back through the crowd.
‘Where...where are you taking me?’
‘Somewhere we can be alone.’
She ground to a halt, swaying on her high heels as she did so. ‘I never thought you were the type of man to take advantage of a girl,’ she said, her voice slurring.
He laughed. ‘Your mistake, then.’ And to prove his point he bent to take her startled mouth in a brief, hungry kiss. When his head lifted her eyes were glazed in a way which suggested he could take advantage of her all he liked and she would not object. The thought sent his conscience to hell, and he aimed to keep it there.
This was the life! For the time being, anyway. He was under no illusions that it would last. He figured he would at least have the next fortnight with her, maybe even a month to two...if he could keep up the bad-boy act long enough and well enough.
But sooner or later his masquerade would be discovered, and Bianca would see that underneath he was the same old Adam he’d always been. Once that happened this spark he’d managed to fire in her would no doubt be snuffed out, and she would cut him adrift again.
A black despair invaded his heart at this inevitability, and it was with some difficulty that he blocked it from his mind. He managed quite well once he turned his thoughts to taking advantage of her in the very near future.
‘No more chit-chat,’ he snapped, and resumed propelling his torment back to the car.
Irritatingly, she did what he asked, not saying a single word during the drive back from Randwick to North Sydney. Her silence grated on his nerves, and he began to worry about what she would say when she saw the penthouse. Not that he intended telling her all. Bad boys never explained, or confided. They simply shrugged off questions then took what they wanted.
‘What are we doing back here?’ Bianca was finally driven to ask when he directed the BMW into the same basement car park he’d taken her to that morning. ‘Do you have to bring your suit back? Is that it?’
Adam frowned his puzzlement. ‘What in God’s name are you talking about, Bianca? I own this suit.’
‘Oh. I...I thought you must have rented it.’
‘Your mistake again. Stay there,’ he said as he switched off the engine. ‘I’ll come round and help you out.’
Which he did—not so much to act the gentleman, but to leer nicely at her naked legs, the sight of which had tormented him all afternoon. Looking at her firm brown thighs did little, however, for his resolve not to rush things once he got her upstairs.
‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked shakily as he led her once again to the bank of lifts.
‘Somewhere private.’
‘Must you be so mysterious?’ she threw at him once they were in the lift.
‘It saves answering a whole lot of unnecessary questions.’ And unnecessary arguments. He’d brought her here for sex, dammit, not for true confessions.
He should have known that wouldn’t be the end of it. When he inserted the key into the lift lock for the top floor, she started up again. ‘You’re taking me up to an apartment, aren’t you? This building is one of those where they’ve converted the upper floors for city living. Who owns it? A friend of yours? The university?’
‘Let’s just say I have access to it,’ he bit out. ‘Now why don’t you put a lid on it, Bianca? You’re driving me crazy with all your questions. I haven’t brought you here to cross-examine me.’
The lift jolted a little as it began its upward ride, and tipsy Bianca rocked against Adam’s chest. His arms shot around her, one large palm landing on her bottom. His eyes locked with hers while slowly he pleated the red silk upwards till his fingertips encountered a delicious expanse of pouting and shockingly bare buttock.
Bianca’s eyes turned a smoky blue at this point. Her lips fell apart and her tongue-tip moved seductively between her teeth in a tormentingly erotic way.
‘I’m beginning to realise that,’ she whispered, in the sort of voice which would have aroused a zombie. ‘Perhaps you’d better show me exactly what you had in mind...’
‘That was the best Chinese food I’ve had in years!’ May pronounced, leaning back in her chair with a big smile on her face. ‘But I’ve eaten way too much. You shouldn’t have bought so many dishes, Adam. I’ve made a right little piggie of myself.’
‘Nonsense! Chinese food’s like that. In half an hour you’ll be wanting to eat something else. Another glass of wine?’
‘Just half a glass.’
‘What about you, Bianca?’
‘No, no more wine.’ She placed her hand over her glass, but could not bring herself to look at him.
She’d sobered up considerably since their torrid lovemaking session that afternoon. My God, she had never known anything like it. It had been really wild.
Somehow they had made it inside the penthouse apartment before Adam had shown her well and truly why he’d brought her there. Not that she’d minded his savage haste. She’d been wanting him all afternoon, had been dying for his touch and his body. Neither of them had been able to wait, ravaging each other up against the door without turning on the light. They hadn’t even undressed properly.
But that hadn’t been the end of it. Adam had then carried her temporarily satisfied body to the biggest bed she’d ever seen, where he’d proceeded to drive her crazy for ages on what had seemed like acres of blue satin sheets. She had never realised any man could know so much about a woman’s body, or how to torment it for so long without release. He had dangled her on a bittersweet edge till she’d been moaning and groaning. And begging. Dear heaven, how she’d begged!
But it hadn’t been the begging that had bothered her. In a way that had been exciting. For she had known, in her heart, that Adam had not been trying to punish her. He’d been making her pleasure last. When she’d finally gone over the edge, it had been incredible.
It had been her thoughts afterwards which had upset her. And the inevitable conclusions she’d come to once she’d really taken in her surroundings.
She’d been lying there on those satin sheets, exhausted, glancing around the spacious bedroom with its mirrored wardrobes and plate glass windows and stunning view of the harbour, when she realised that this could not be the first time Adam had used this orgy palace for assignations with the opposite sex. The certainty that he had brought that ghastly Sophie there, had had sex with her in that very bed, had turned her stomach.
She just hadn’t been able to lie there after that, and had scrambled out of the bed and dashed for the shower, calling out to Adam that it was late and would he please get her own clothes from the car. She’d bundled up the other clothes, which had been scattered around the place, stuffed them in the shopping bag, along with the jewellery, and left them there.
If he had noticed her change of mood he hadn’t said anything—highlighting, to her, the fact that he didn’t give a damn about her feelings. All he’d wanted from her was sex. The truth was that he’d dolled her up like a whore that morning and then treated her like a whore. Even worse, she’d acted like a whore.
She’d been relieved to leave that hateful place behind, plus those hateful clothes. She hoped Adam thought they were worth the money he’d paid for them. Maybe he could dress up his next bed partner in them! The surety that there would be other silly girls who would do what he wanted in the future was depressing in the extreme.
‘You’re very quiet, Bianca,’ her mother sai
d. ‘And you haven’t eaten much either. Aren’t you feeling well?’
With an effort, she found a small smile. ‘I have a bad headache,’ she said. Which she did. Champagne did it to her every time, once the initial effect wore off.
‘You look tired too, darling,’ her mother went on. ‘Why don’t you go to bed early tonight?’
‘I think I will.’ She stood up and started clearing the plates away. At least when she was asleep she couldn’t think, or feel upset.
‘Adam and I’ll do that,’ May said. ‘You go pop in the shower and get into bed. Would you like me to make you a cup of cocoa?’
‘No, thanks, Mum. I’ll be fine.’
But she wasn’t fine. She crawled into bed feeling utterly wretched. Everything was so mixed up in her head. She tried telling herself that she couldn’t possibly be in love with this new Adam, that beneath his sexy exterior he was quite hateful, really, nothing at all like the nice, kind, sweet person she’d grown up with—the one she’d always believed really cared about her.
This Adam didn’t care about her. And he wasn’t at all nice—no matter how well he was fooling her mother out there. He was hard and ruthless and selfish.
What had changed him? Had he been changing all along and she just hadn’t noticed?
She lay there for what felt like hours, her head pounding, her heart just as bad. She must really love him to feel this badly. Just a sexual attraction couldn’t possibly cause this much misery.
But he didn’t love her back. He really didn’t. He was amusing himself with her. And using her.
Dismay soon turned to outrage. She wasn’t going to let him use her again. Or touch her again. Just let him try!
When he finally came into the room to go to bed, she lay perfectly still under the bedclothes, glad she’d found a big T-shirt of his to wear to bed. It came right down past her knees—knees which were bent right up to her chest. She was curled up in a foetal position, her eyes tightly shut, her back turned towards his side of the bed.
She listened to the sound of the shower, then to the sounds of his coming back into the room. She froze further when she felt the quilt lift, then flinched at the feel of his body settling behind hers.
For an excruciatingly long moment she thought she was safe. But then he took her shoulder and rolled her over against his naked side. ‘No,’ she said on a strangled sob of despair. For even that small contact made her want to melt against him. ‘I...I still have a headache.’
‘I doubt that. Care to tell me what’s really bugging you, Bianca? I’m not a fool. You’ve been in a mood since before we left North Sydney.’
‘I...I don’t want you to touch me any more.’
‘Really?’ There was ice in his voice. ‘What’s brought about this change of attitude? You sure as hell didn’t mind my touching you this afternoon. In fact, you couldn’t get enough.’
‘I was drunk.’
‘Maybe, but you weren’t drunk last night, sweetheart, and you were just as accommodating then. Don’t give me this garbage. Tell me the truth.’
‘Very well. I don’t like being used!’
‘Used?’
‘Yes, used,’ she snapped, scornful of his attempt to sound shocked. ‘I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept.’
He actually laughed.
Bianca was mortified. ‘How dare you laugh at me?’ she snarled. ‘You’re nothing but an unconscionable, hard-hearted, cold-blooded, ruthless rake, and I hate you!’
‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ he returned, still chuckling drily. ‘You probably think you’re in love with me. God, but it’s ironic. But don’t worry. You’ll soon be yourself again, darling. Being in love is only a temporary passion with you. So I’m going to keep on touching you, and making love to you. Let me burn out your unwanted fires that way, Bianca. It’s much more fun.’
‘Fun! Is that all you can think of these days? Fun?’
‘Yep. I was taught by an expert. Now stop this nonsense and let me get on with restoking your flames. Methinks they’ve temporarily gone out.’ He dropped light, teasing kisses on her outraged mouth till she simply didn’t have the will to argue.
‘You’re incorrigible,’ she muttered.
‘And you’re beautiful.’
She stiffened as his hand started stroking softly up and down her thigh. ‘You have no conscience at all, do you?’ she groaned. ‘And you’re still using me.’ She trembled when that tantalising hand travelled higher. ‘Men are all the same when it comes to sex.’
‘Do you want me to stop?’
She sucked in a sharp breath as that hand found its mark. ‘If you do,’ she whispered breathlessly, ‘I’ll kill you.’
CHAPTER TEN
THE sun was shining brightly when Bianca slowly surfaced the following morning. Adam was sitting up in bed beside her, reading the Sunday papers and looking for all the world as if he’d been doing the same thing every Sunday for years.
His hair was tousled and there was stubble on his chin. But he looked utterly gorgeous, she thought, a wave of weakness flooding through her.
Oh, well. She acknowledged with wry acceptance her own ongoing susceptibility for this man. She’d never been renowned for her ability to resist gorgeous men!
He beamed over at her as she yawned and stretched. ‘Guess what?’ he said brightly. ‘It won. That nag you made me bet on before we left the races yesterday. Better still, it was twenty to one! What say we go buy you a new car today?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ she said, yawning again. ‘One little bet isn’t going to buy me a new car. Not unless you put a couple of thousand dollars on it.’
‘Sorry. I only put one.’
‘One dollar. Gee whiz. What are you planning on buying me with that? A toy car?’
‘Nope. I thought a brand new Nissan Sports would suit you. With a red stripe down the side. Come on, let’s go.’
‘What?’ She sat bolt-upright before she remembered she was naked. ‘You’ve gone mad, haven’t you?’ she pronounced agitatedly as she snatched the sheet up over her breasts. ‘Or you’re on drugs. Is that it? You’ve been taking something?’
‘The only thing I’m hooked on is you, darling,’ he returned, and leant over to plant a kiss on her gaping mouth. ‘Can’t have my best girl driving her mum around in a dangerous, rusted old rattle-trap, can I?’
Bianca was shaking her head. ‘Now I know you are mad. I don’t feel I can take advantage of someone who’s gone temporarily insane.’
‘Why not? I am.’ With this cryptic comment, he climbed out of bed and carried his beautiful body towards the bathroom. ‘Come on, Bianca. The salesmen await. It wasn’t one dollar I had on that noble nag. It was one thousand.’
‘One thousand!’ Bianca squawked, leaping out of bed and chasing after him. ‘What on earth are you doing, betting big sums of money like that?’
‘Winning,’ he replied with a cheeky grin.
‘But...but you won’t always win, Adam,’ she pointed out in a panicky concern for him. ‘Sooner or later you’ll start losing. No one wins for ever.’
The smile faded on his face as he yanked her under the shower with him. ‘You think I don’t know that?’ he growled. ‘Look, I’m winning now. And it’s making me bloody happy. I’ll worry about losing when I start losing—fair enough?’
She stared up into his suddenly harsh eyes and wondered if she’d missed something. But then his mouth pulled back into a wicked smile and the moment was gone.
‘Here,’ he said, lifting up her hand and smacking a cake of soap into the palm. ‘Make yourself useful, woman. I washed you last time. Now it’s your turn.’
He bought her a new white Pulsar Sports with a red stripe down the side, even getting airconditioning thrown in with the deal. Bianca was still in a bit of a daze as she followed Adam home in her lovely new car, her impressed mother by her side.
‘What a lucky girl you are, Bianca, to have a man like Adam as your husband. He’s so kind and generous. And he just ador
es the ground you walk on. There again...he always did. Never seen a boy so besotted by a girl as he was by you during your schooldays. I always felt rather sorry for him, loving you so much, because I was afraid you’d never see his worth, or feel about him the same way he felt about you.’
Her mother’s ravings rather snapped Bianca out of her appreciative daze. For what her mother didn’t know was that Adam was no longer that same besotted boy. He was a man. And very different from the slave-like adolescent her mother was describing. His kindness and generosity came with a price-tag these days, she realised as she thought of those clothes he’d bought her. And now this car...
Would he expect to be repaid in kind?
Her mouth went dry at the thought.
‘By the way,’ her mouth was rattling on, ‘I didn’t like to say in front of Adam, but that Derek fellow rang yesterday while you were out. It gave me great satisfaction to tell him you were at the races with your husband. You could have cut the silence on the other end of the line with a knife,’ she finished smugly.
Bianca frowned. She didn’t really care whether Derek believed she was married to Adam—at least it would keep him away—but she would have to remember to click on the answering machine in future, if they ever went out again leaving her mother behind. Otherwise some silly caller might let the cat out of the bag over Adam and herself.
This thought led to another. What if someone just ‘dropped in’ during the next fortnight? Michelle was given to doing that occasionally. Thank God she was away up the coast, visiting her parents. It was also as well that those same parents had retired recently and moved up to said coast, far away from Sydney. Still, Adam’s parents rang him most weeks. She would have to tell Adam to ring them himself, during the day, thereby heading off any awkward possibilities.
Bianca was mulling over what else she might have forgotten which would expose Adam and herself as frauds, when a small tan dog dashed across the road in front of her. Her heart leapt into her mouth as she braked and swerved, almost sideswiping another car. All to no avail. The awful clunking sound under the front wheels was sickeningly loud and unmistakable.