He paused and took a step closer, his gaze darkening in time with the beat of her heart. Reaching out, he ran his thumb along her collarbone and, hooking the front of her dress, he tugged her towards him.
‘There are far more interesting places I’d like to explore right here.’
His hand was grazing her breast, caressing, circling, making her stomach muscles curl into a ball.
‘Which reminds me—I have a little present for you.’
She followed him inside, watching warily as he walked across the kitchen to the counter and picked up a beautiful cream box tied with pale gold ribbon.
He handed it to her casually. ‘This is for you.’
She swallowed, her breath hot and scratchy in her throat. Where had that box come from? She didn’t remember seeing it earlier.
As though reading her mind, he fixed his eyes on her face. ‘I arranged for the chopper to drop it off this morning.’
Gazing into his narrowed grey eyes, Addie felt her stomach flip over. Of course, she thought weakly. It was just another example of the surreal, topsy-turvy world in which he lived. Where his every whim was magically and swiftly satisfied.
Trying not to think about how she fitted in with that particular revelation, she glanced down at the box she was holding. ‘What is it?’
‘Open it and see.’
Heart thudding, she tugged at the ribbon, struggling to undo it. Finally she pulled off the lid and, parting the feathery sheets of tissue paper, lifted out a short silk slip. It was pale gold, trimmed with delicate cream lace and utterly, utterly exquisite. She stared at it in silence, too stunned to speak.
‘Do you like it?’
She nodded. ‘It’s beautiful, Malachi. I love the colour,’ she said at last. Her cheeks grew warm. ‘But I don’t have anything for you.’ And what would she give him anyway? she thought with a needle stab of pain. The man who not only had everything but valued nothing except winning?
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ he said slowly.
He lifted his gaze, locking on to her flushed, startled face, and she felt a swirling liquid heat rise up inside as his eyes roamed over her body with open longing.
‘Try it on.’
His voice was soft, and had he been touching her she might not have heard the authority beneath the seductive tone, for he wielded his body and her response to it like a weapon, ruthlessly using every kiss, every caress, to get what he wanted.
Only she must have wanted it too.
Or why else would she be hearing herself say, ‘What? Here? Now?’?
His eyes met hers—dark, triumphant, like a runner who could see the finishing line.
He nodded slowly. ‘Yes. Here. Now. Otherwise...’ He paused, turning the word slowly over in his mouth, savouring it. ‘How can I take it off?’
Something was wrong. Yes. Here. Now. His words were ringing inside her head like a series of off-key notes. But why? The slip was a present. A gift. A spontaneous gesture designed to give pleasure. Or was it? She had no reason to doubt him, but she couldn’t shift the prickle of apprehension beneath her ribs. Why give her this today? Why not on the plane? Or yesterday?
Watching her in silence, his expression veiled, Malachi pictured her reaction, and inevitable surrender, feeling a rush of pre-emptive power. It was all part of the game. The game of seduction. And, like most games, it required nothing more than a cool head. And, of course, knowing when to make your move. It was a game he enjoyed playing. And winning.
Looking up, she found him studing her intently—and suddenly she knew why. His eyes had none of the heat or fire of a lover. Instead they were glittering down at her with a calculating coldness that made a shiver run down her spine.
She lifted her chin, her shoulders stiffening with suppressed anger. ‘Why don’t we wait until later?’ she said coolly.
He frowned. ‘Later?’
‘Yes.’ She met his gaze. ‘You know I said I wanted to explore the island? Well I arranged with Terry for him to give us a tour this morning.’
His eyes were suddenly harder than stone. ‘So unarrange it,’ he said arrogantly.
This time it was unequivocal. It was an order—clear and direct.
She glowered at him, her anger as quick and cold as a flash freeze. ‘I will not.’
There was a long, pulsing silence.
Malachi stared at her, his disbelief that she had actually rebuffed him rapidly switching to cold, hard rage. This wasn’t how it worked. Did she seriously think for one moment that she could set the agenda for this trip? Or that he was remotely interested in looking around the damn island with her? She was here for one reason and one reason only. Clearly now was the time to remind her of that fact.
‘Then I will,’ he said coldly. ‘I don’t know what fanciful little idea you’ve got in that pretty little head about why we’re here, but let me make it easy for you to understand. It has nothing to do with sightseeing.’
A muscle flickered in his jaw. He could feel his control slipping and it did nothing to improve his temper. He had wanted to demonstrate his composure in the face of her helpless desire for him. Only instead he was acting like a thwarted teenage boy.
‘And even if it did, the only sight I want to see is you. In that.’ He gestured to the slip hanging from her hand.
‘You’re a monster,’ she said shakily.
‘And you are a hypocrite. Making all this fuss—’ His breath hissed through his teeth. ‘We had an agreement. We still do.’
‘I did not agree to this. To you snapping your fingers like some sexually depraved dictator.’
He shook his head. ‘That’s not what’s happening here. You’re just having a tantrum because I called you. In my house the rules are simple, sweetheart. Either fold or play.’
She stared at him in disbelief. Did he actually think this was like a game of cards?
‘This is not a hand of poker.’ She was practically shouting. ‘This is you trampling all over my feelings.’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t care.’
It was his shrug as much as the cavalier tone in his voice that made something inside her snap. Her breath was suddenly choking her.
‘Fine,’ she snarled. ‘Have it your way.’
Pulling her dress up over her head, she yanked off her bikini top, tugged the panties down from her hips and faced him—naked.
Malachi stared at her, his face hard with fury. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Me? Oh, I’m just getting ready for sex. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?’ Her voice was shaking, her breathing ragged. Dragging the slip over her head, careless of the delicate lace, she met his gaze. ‘So where do you want to do it, then? On the table? On the beach?’
What was the matter with her? He shook his head, trying to control his anger, his confusion. ‘You’re being melodramatic!’
There was no reason for her to act like this. She’d agreed to the deal. And the deal was about sex—not this raw emotion. So why was she making such a fuss?
She glared at him. ‘No, I am not. I’m just being truthful. But honesty was never your strong point—was it, Malachi?’
‘I never said you were just here for sex!’ His voice was rough. He had finally lost his temper.
Swearing under his breath, he ran a trembling hand through his damp hair just as there was a knock on the door. He turned, frowning, and opened his mouth to say something. But Addie cut him off.
‘Of course not. You never say what you mean to anyone! So why would today be any different?’ Pressing her finger against her forehead, she pretended to think. ‘Oh, I remember now. It’s because I’m not just anyone. I’m your wife.’
‘And I’m your husband. And you owe me a honeymoon and I always call in my debts.’
‘You are not my husband. You’re just a man who’s blackmailing me for sex.’
He took a step towards her. The skin on his face was stretched tight; his arms were braced as though invisible hands were restraining him.
; ‘If I’m blackmailing you, then how come I’m the one paying?’
She shook her head, her hands curling into fists. ‘That’s all you care about, isn’t it? Money. And winning. I think you’ve lived and breathed that casino air for so long you think everything’s like poker. That’s why you’re doing this. Why you’ve turned this, us, into some sort of sick fantasy game. You just can’t help youself.’
Malachi stared at her in silence, his angry response stilled in his throat. He could feel her accusation, lodged beneath his skin like a poisoned dart. Hear it inside his head. Only it wasn’t Addie’s voice but his own, saying words he’d never had the courage to say out loud. Words he should have spoken long ago to people who should have known better. His head was spinning. This wasn’t meant to be happening. He had just wanted to prove a point, but somehow he’d become the nightmare he’d been trying to escape from all his life.
He breathed in sharply, pushing aside that disturbing thought. ‘It’s not a game—’ he began.
‘Yes, it is,’ she spat at him. ‘Only you don’t even know it. You actually think it’s normal to manipulate your estranged wife into being your mistress. Or had it slipped your mind that we are still married?’
His eyes were hard and gleaming, like polished steel. ‘I hadn’t forgotten. But having not heard from you since your little outburst at our wedding reception, I’m surprised you bothered to bring it up.’
‘Why should I contact you?’ Her eyes flared with pain and anger. ‘You lied to me.’
‘I didn’t lie,’ he began. But she ignored him.
‘And when I tried to talk to you about it you didn’t want to know—’
‘It was our wedding.’ His face was as set as stone. ‘Funnily enough I thought we might have other things on our mind. Like celebrating!’
‘Celebrating what? The fact that you’d made a fool out of me. Or rather I’d made a fool out of myself. And now I’m doing it again.’
She spat the words at him, wishing they weren’t just words but bricks—something that would hurt him as he had hurt her. Was still hurting her.
‘Calm down!’ His eyes were glittering, their hostile glare fixed on her face. ‘Terry might hear you.’
‘And you wouldn’t want that, would you, Malachi?’ Her heart was thumping so hard she could hardly hear herself. ‘You wouldn’t want someone to actually hear what you’re really like. How you use people. And exploit them. And hurt them.’
‘Addie—’ He started to speak but she shook her head.
‘No. You’ve said enough.’ She forced herself to meet his gaze. ‘How can you think this is okay? Treating me like this? Like some whore?’ The word stuck in her throat and suddenly she didn’t care any more. Not about the deal she’d made with Malachi. Or the charity. Or Terry.
Blood roaring in her ears, she stared down at the slip sticking damply to her skin. She knew it was her body beneath the silk, but it didn’t feel as if it belonged to her.
‘You know, I thought nothing could ever feel as bad as when I found out I wouldn’t be able to play the piano professionally.’ It had been far worse five years ago, she thought dully. When she’d finally realised how ruthlessly Malachi had manipulated her love for him. The pain had felt like an actual wound.
How impossible it would have been then to imagine that she could sink any lower.
‘It was like the end of everything.’ Her voice trembled and she drew in a breath, pushing past the lump of misery in her throat. ‘But I faced up to it. And I turned it into something good. Only you treating me like this—it’s made me feel like I don’t matter. That I’m nothing.’
It was true. She had never felt so utterly worthless. So tainted, so sordid.
‘I don’t even know who I am any more.’ She swallowed, fighting to get her words out. ‘I just know I don’t like myself...this person I’ve become...’ Her voice faltered and failed.
Malachi felt sick. He had known about her accident but he’d had no idea that it had robbed her of her dreams. She should have told him, he thought dully. Only why would she? Right from the start he’d made it clear that his past was off limits, and he’d never once encouraged her to talk about herself.
He stared at her in silence. She looked crushed, her face pale and trembling, her beautiful blue eyes clouded with pain. But it was her hands, clenched protectively in front of her, that made his body tense with shock.
He didn’t like seeing her like that. He certainly didn’t like knowing that he was responsible. The thought made him feel guilty, ashamed. He had turned their marriage into a game. He had trapped her and tried to manipulate her into doing what he wanted. He knew just how that felt, and yet he’d hurt her as he’d been hurt. His skin burned with shame.
‘Addie—’ Reaching out, he touched her hand gently, his heart twisting as she stiffened and shrank backwards.
‘I can’t do this,’ she whispered.
With shock, he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. He had never seen her cry and his throat felt tight. He didn’t want to feel her pain. Didn’t want to feel anything. But he had hurt her, and for the first time in a long, long time he wanted to face the pain. Her pain. Face it and erase it.
He took a step closer. ‘Please listen to me, sweetheart.’
But, refusing to meet his gaze, she edged further away from his hand.
He stared at her uncertainly. What was he supposed to say? A cold, dull ache was seeping through his veins and he felt completely out of his depth. He’d spent most of his life avoiding scenes and confrontations, shunning anything remotely emotional, but as his eyes fixed on Addie’s stricken face he felt his heart contract.
Suddenly his desires didn’t seem all that important in comparison with comforting her. With helping her rebuild what he had so ruthlessly crushed.
He took a deep breath. ‘I’m not a good person, Addie. I know that. But I swear it wasn’t my intention to hurt you. And I can prove it to you if you let me. Please, Addie, let me make this right.’
‘How can you?’ she said flatly. ‘Look what we’re doing to each other. To our marriage. It’s just so wrong—’
‘It doesn’t have to be like this.’
She heard him inhale and, looking up, saw that his eyes were fixed on her face, his expression strained.
‘We can start over.’
For a moment she didn’t reply and he held his breath, watching, waiting, until finally she lifted her head and sighed.
‘I don’t know what that means. But you’d better go and talk to Terry. I’m sure he’s got better things to do than stand around on your doorstep.’
He nodded and walked swiftly into the hallway. She heard the door open and a muffled conversation. Moments later, the door closed and he returned.
‘He’s gone.’ He met her gaze. ‘Do you want me to go too?’
His face was set, and yet he seemed less self-assured than usual—as though he wasn’t quite certain of her reply.
She gazed at him in silence. Was he playing with her? Or was he trying to make amends? Finally, she shook her head. ‘No. I don’t want you to go.’’
He breathed out slowly. ‘I meant what I said, sweetheart. About starting again.’
She watched in silence as, hesitantly, he reached out and touched her face.
‘I want it to be good between us here.’
She bit her lip. ‘Think about what’s happening here, Malachi. I sold myself to you.’
Shaking his head, he stroked her cheek gently. ‘Look at it this way: I can only afford you for a month.’
She gave him a tiny smile. ‘Nice try! But I know a bluff when I hear one.’
‘I’m not bluffing. You’re a Royal Flush, sweetheart.’
He watched her face shift, the hurt showing through, and feeling a spasm of panic he reached out and grabbed her hands.
‘I’m sorry. That was crass. I know you probably find this hard to believe, but not every thought I have is about poker.’ He hesitated. ‘Some are about you. Q
uite a lot, actually.’ He felt her hands stiffen and, curling his fingers more tightly, he shook his head. ‘I don’t mean those kind of thoughts. I mean about you. The person you are.’
Addie stared at him in confusion. Was this really her uber-cool husband? He looked anything but cool. In fact he looked nervous, almost as though he didn’t quite know what he was saying or doing.
She bit her lip. ‘And who am I?’
His hands tightened around hers. ‘You’re a fighter. And a dreamer. Look at how you came back stronger after your accident.
‘It stopped you from doing what you loved most but you didn’t stop. You started a charity. Most people would have given up.’
Addie eyes him wearily. ‘You wouldn’t.’
Her voice was quiet, but steadier, and he felt his heart lurch with hope. Maybe he hadn’t ruined everything between them.
‘No. It wouldn’t have made me stronger. Or kinder.’ But this wasn’t about him. It was about Addie. ‘I think you’re one of the bravest people I know, sweetheart,’ he said gently. ‘And I’m really sorry for being such a jerk.’ Tentatively, he slid his hand over her shoulder. ‘Truly. I know it’s not enough, but it’s a start, isn’t it?’ He breathed out slowly. ‘Please, can we try again? Please?’
His eyes met hers and finally she nodded mutely.
He made as though to pull her against him and then, breathing out slowly, he turned and, reaching round, picked up her clothes from the floor. ‘Here. Put these on.’
Averting his gaze, he waited until she was dressed and then slowly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
‘Thank you.’ Gently, he kissed the top of her head. ‘And now, how about we go and take a look around this island?’
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘SO—DO YOU have anything particular you’d like to do today?’
Leaning across the table to spear a piece of pineapple from a huge platter of fresh fruit, Malachi smiled at Addie. She held her breath. He was wearing a pair of dark blue swim shorts, and his long, muscular legs were sprawled out temptingly towards her. With his face tipped up to the sun and his dark hair falling loosely across his forehead, he looked impossibly glamorous, and intensely male, his lush beauty easily rivalling the tropical perfection surrounding them.
Claiming His Wedding Night Page 10