Defying the Billionaire's Command

by Michelle Conder

  He shrugged. ‘You must have left for some reason.’

  ‘I wanted to travel.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  Carly narrowed her eyes. He was starting to sound a lot like Daniel during one of his interrogations. Should she tell him that? Tell him that she had been hurt and she should have known better? Tell him her sister had died and she...? Carly swallowed. No, he didn’t need to know about Liv.

  ‘I thought I was in love once,’ she admitted. ‘We dated, and he...cheated. End of story. Happy now?’

  No, he wasn’t happy to hear she had been in love with another man. Nor was he happy she had been hurt.

  ‘So you left town because of him?’

  Her eyes flashed in annoyance. ‘Yes, and no, I... I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘Because you’re still in love with him?’

  ‘That’s very personal.’ Her eyes flicked away. ‘But no, I’m not in love with Daniel.’

  Daniel?

  Dare hadn’t wanted a name. He didn’t want to be able to picture the idiot she’d been with. And now he was also wondering why she hadn’t looked him in the eye when she’d answered him. Was she lying?

  Agitated, he absently smoothed his hand along the mantelpiece, accidentally dislodging her handbag and spilling the contents in the process.

  ‘Damn.’ He glanced at the array of feminine-looking items scattered at his feet.

  ‘It’s okay.’ She laughed, kneeling in front of him. ‘I’ve got it.’

  Feeling like a fool, Dare crouched down beside her. He handed over her purse and noticed a long velvet box beneath. Curious, he picked it up. ‘May I?’

  She glanced at the box and blushed. ‘It’s the necklace I nearly lost.’

  So this was where it was.

  Slowly opening the box, Dare stared down at the expensive little number twinkling up at him. This had certainly set someone back a pretty penny.

  ‘Who gave you this? Your ex?’

  She finished stuffing the things in her bag and straightened. ‘No. It was...no one important.’

  Dare knew an evasive answer when he heard one. His brow rose. ‘Does he know that?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘Does he know he’s not important?’

  Carly frowned, taking the box from his hand. ‘Why are you using that tone again?’

  Dare took a deep breath, wondering how it was that he could control a global corporation without batting an eye and yet one woman always seemed to have him on the back foot. Carly was a genuinely nice person—he knew that now. And not only that. She was smart and beautiful and he wanted her.

  ‘Forget I said anything.’

  Carly fidgeted with the box before placing it carefully in her bag. ‘The person who gave me the necklace did so because he wanted to go out with me. There’s nothing else to it.’

  Dare doubted that. No man he knew gave a woman expensive jewellery because he wanted to go out with her. It was either a gift to show his appreciation or a parting one. Still...the guy was obviously history and that was all that mattered.

  ‘You don’t have to explain yourself to me,’ he assured her.

  ‘Good.’ She stepped back from him. ‘Because, frankly, I’m done with explaining myself to men. There’s nothing more debilitating.’

  ‘I agree,’ he said, moving closer to her.

  ‘What...? What...? Dare, what are you doing?’

  ‘Taking you in my arms,’ he murmured.

  Carly flattened her hands against his chest to ward him off. ‘Dare, I don’t want this. I don’t want you.’

  Dare kissed her. Softly. Sweetly. Carly’s breath hitched in her lungs.

  ‘Yes, you do.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head weakly. ‘I don’t. I...’

  He kissed her again. This time it was more commanding. More urgent.

  Carly melted. She didn’t mean to, but she did. His touch, his scent, his heat—they all set off a minefield of emotions and sensations inside her that she just couldn’t fight.

  ‘Carly...’

  Dare groaned her name and Carly clung to his broad shoulders. Maybe sleeping with him just once wouldn’t be a mistake, she reasoned. Giving in to this desire between them that made her forget everything around her but him. That made her burn.

  But then what? a little voice of sanity asked. Then he leaves and you’re left once again to pick up the pieces? Alone this time.

  Carly moaned in denial even as she kissed him. The voice was right. And yet... And yet... She couldn’t seem to say no to him.

  ‘Dare, I—’

  A beeping sound cut off her weak attempt at resistance and Carly pulled her mouth from his. ‘My beeper.’

  ‘Ignore it.’ Dare buried his hands in her hair and brought her mouth back to his.

  ‘No. I can’t.’ Carly pushed at him again. ‘It’s Benson. I need to give him his medication.’

  Dare groaned, loosening his grip with obvious reluctance, and Carly moved out of the circle of his arms, walking like an automaton to her bedside table to silence the beeper.

  Dare’s heavy breaths filled the room, but Carly kept her back to him. She knew he was waiting for her but she couldn’t do this. She felt frozen. Frozen by her own unbidden desires and the mistakes she had made in the past.

  ‘I think it’s best if you go,’ she said quietly.

  She felt his hard, heated stare before he crossed to her. When he stopped beside her she was almost afraid to look up at him. Afraid she’d back down and tell him she didn’t want him to go at all. That she wanted him to love her.

  Oh God, that wasn’t what she wanted at all. ‘Why?’ he asked tightly.

  Carly shook her head, deeply held fears governing her words. ‘I just don’t want this.’

  ‘You did a minute ago,’ Dare said, a hardness creeping into his voice. ‘I felt it. I felt your response.’

  ‘Physically, yes.’ She gripped her hands together. ‘You’re a virile man—I won’t deny that—but that’s all it is and...and it’s not enough.’

  Dare stared at her for long seconds. ‘I think you’re afraid,’ he said.

  ‘Afraid?’

  ‘Afraid of the way I make you feel.’

  Carly forced out a laugh as his words hit a little too close to the bone. ‘And I think you’re arrogant and full of yourself.’

  Time slowed as his eyes scanned her face, and it was all she could do not to crumple and ask him to hold her.

  ‘As long as we’re clear,’ he said coldly.

  Carly tilted her chin up. ‘I am. I hope you are too.’

  His jaw clenched. ‘As crystal,’ he snarled, before stalking from the room.

  Carly held herself perfectly still until he’d slammed the door behind him. Then she sank onto the bed, buried her head in her hands, and wondered if she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of them all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘YOU’RE AWFULLY QUIET TONIGHT, Dare. The exhibition not to your liking?’

  Dare glanced at the blonde by his side, who was now studying him and not the artwork in front of her. Lucy was a woman he had met a few years ago in New York and they sometimes caught up when they found themselves in the same city, like now.

  Apparently she’d come to London to visit a client and since he was still here he’d said yes to her invitation and here he was in a warehouse-sized loft in Whitechapel where Jack the Ripper had carried out his horrifying work.

  By the look of the life-size canvases splattered with paint and what looked like debris from the city’s gutters, the artist prancing around the room was channelling Jacky boy’s macabre energy. Dare wasn’t sure he’d seen art that was so gratuitously self-absorbed.

  On top of that
the beer was flat and the wine tasted terrible.

  ‘The exhibition’s fine.’ And why spend time explaining his view when Lucy would likely only agree anyway?

  Normally at this point he would suggest they call his driver and head back to her hotel. Normally he would already be anticipating the night ahead.

  ‘Well, something is bothering you,’ she murmured.

  ‘Nothing of any importance.’

  ‘Anything I can help you with?’

  God, he hoped so. It was the other reason he’d said yes when she’d called. He’d hoped very much that she could alleviate the funk he’d been in since he’d driven away from Rothmeyer House in a cloud of dust a week ago.

  Nothing seemed to have been the same since then. By rights he should already be back in the States but his meetings were taking longer than they should and his mother was still at Rothmeyer House.

  She’d sounded so happy to be extending her stay and spending time with her father and he was, surprisingly, genuinely happy for her. So happy he had agreed to help Benson find out who was behind the leaking of secrets at BG Textiles.

  ‘What do you think of the artist’s use of red in this one?’ Lucy asked, hooking her arm through his.

  Dare glanced at the enormous canvas in front of him. It looked as if the artist had met a shrewish redhead and decided to decapitate her.

  His smile was all teeth. ‘I like it. It has a certain...something, don’t you think?’

  ‘Hmm, I suppose you could be right,’ Lucy purred, tilting her head so her hair fell just so across her shoulders.

  Carly Evans could learn a thing or two from Lucy about how to attract a man’s attention, he thought sourly. Then he scowled. He was tired of thinking about Carly Evans at the most inopportune times. He’d already decided to walk away from her so why bother?

  Unfortunately she had burrowed inside his head like a debilitating tick...and his grandfather had been right: they ate away at you with sharp little teeth.

  Perhaps she was on his mind so much because he intended to call Benson the following morning and report his findings about BG Textiles.

  His grim findings.

  It was a conversation Dare wasn’t looking forward to. How did you tell an old man who was likely dying that his only other grandchild was selling secrets to a company competitor to fund a crappy investment decision he’d made months ago and couldn’t repay? From what Dare had found out about Beckett, his fool cousin probably wasn’t even aware of how seriously he was putting the company at risk.

  And if the information wasn’t what Benson was expecting the old man might keel over on the spot and then Dare would have another thing on his conscience. Should he drive down instead? Tell him in person? If he did that he’d likely run into Carly Evans and he could only imagine the type of greeting she’d give him.

  But if something did happen to his grandfather after he heard the news the good doctor would surely blame him for it, regardless.

  God, she made him mad.

  That disapproving little chin of hers would no doubt go up when he arrived, just as it had the morning he’d left. Not that she’d come down to see him off, but he’d seen her, making sure he left from her balcony window.

  And that was fine with him. He’d told himself all along not to touch her and nothing good came from not following sound advice.

  Finally sick of trying to convince himself that the wine was drinkable, Dare dumped his glass on a nearby table.

  ‘Ah, Dare, I think that’s part of the exhibition,’ Lucy said.

  Dare glanced back at the tall white column and noticed the small card halfway down the side.

  ‘Now it’s also useful,’ he said. ‘Are you ready to leave?’

  Lucy curled into his side. ‘Whenever you are, lover.’

  Yeah, Carly Evans should definitely be here right now taking notes.

  He thought about the ruby necklace in her handbag. She’d said no one important had given it to her but the poor shmuck must have been at some point.

  But why was he back to thinking about her?

  She was history and the lovely Lucy was not.

  He smiled at Lucy and fitted his arm around her slender waist, guiding her through the throng of fancy-dressed art lovers. Or art haters, if they liked this showing.

  Or was that him being judgmental again?

  Him? Judgmental?

  After living with a father like his Dare knew things were rarely as they seemed, which was why he was such a good analyst. He usually reserved his judgment until all the facts were in.

  ‘Dare? Dare?’

  Dare glanced down at Lucy. ‘What?’

  She gave a small laugh. ‘Nothing...you just stopped. I wondered if you wanted something.’

  ‘An exorcist?’

  ‘Sorry?’ Her laugh this time was tinged with nerves. She drew her blood-red fingernails down the lapel of his jacket. ‘I don’t know any of those offhand.’

  What had Carly’s fingernails been like? He hadn’t paid any attention to that detail, too busy taking in other parts of her. The graceful arc of her neck, the gentle swell of her small breasts, those long, long legs.

  He looked at Lucy. ‘It was a joke.’

  ‘Oh!’ she murmured. ‘You’re in a strange mood tonight.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  He sidestepped a cluster of yuppies and finally spotted the main door.

  Thank God for small mercies.

  Short. Her fingernails had been short. He remembered the way they’d felt when she’d stroked the nape of his neck and then—he swore softly.

  Lucy looked at him as if he’d suddenly morphed into an alien being.

  Making a decision, he directed her outside, surprising Mark in the process, who scrambled to open the passenger door for him. Dare waved him off and placed Lucy inside. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be with one woman while he was still thinking about another.

  ‘A change of plans,’ he said apologetically. ‘I’ll have Mark drop you home—or somewhere else, if you prefer.’

  Lucy bestowed him with a benevolent smile. ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Whose name?’

  ‘The woman you’ve been thinking about all night.’

  Dare hacked out a laugh. ‘It’s just work.’

  Lucy all but rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve known you for three years now and work has never put a frown on your face before.’

  ‘I’ve had bad days,’ he defended. How could she know him that well when he struggled to remember her surname?

  She shook her head. ‘You thrive on bad days. This is something else.’ She shrugged. ‘A woman was my first guess.’

  Dare grunted. It pained him to admit that she was right. ‘I’ll call you,’ he said instead.

  She sighed and leaned back against the upholstery. ‘I won’t hold my breath.’

  Dare tapped the roof of the car and Mark shot away from the kerb, leaving Dare to either catch a cab or walk home.

  He glanced at the sky and turned towards the river. It couldn’t be that far to Eaton Square on foot.

  An hour later and Dare was reconsidering his decision. His feet hurt and his hair was plastered to his head from the rain that had come out of nowhere. Grimacing, he gave up the ghost and ducked into a small café that was still open.

  ‘Long black,’ he said to the pierced barista behind the counter. He could already feel the buzz of caffeine as the youth prepared it and he knew it would be a lot better than the coffee he’d picked up at that grungy gas station he’d worked at during university.

  ‘Thanks. Keep the change.’

  He took his coffee to the window and savoured that first sip.

  ‘But you know the best coffee is the first coffee of the day, right? When it
’s nice and hot and the acidity just rolls across your tongue. It’s sublime, isn’t it?’

  Yes, it was sublime and finally Dare knew what he had to do.

  He wouldn’t call Benson and give him the news about Beckett over the phone. He’d ride down to Rothmeyer House first thing tomorrow and deliver the bad news in person. Then he’d—no, he wouldn’t ride all that way; it would take too long. Instead he’d take the chopper—except the chopper was in for repairs. Damn. So, okay, back to plan A. He’d take the H2 out first thing in the morning and speak to Benson. See if he wanted some advice, given that he was a week out from his operation. Then he’d talk to Carly.

  She’d either be happy to see him, or not, and being a man who played the odds he’d put money on not, but either way he wouldn’t have these lingering thoughts of what if? circling his brain at the most inopportune times. Like yesterday when he’d had to decide if an alarm clock shaped like a pig that was programmed to fry bacon as well was something that was going to take off in the market or tank.

  He blew out a slow breath. She’d wanted him as much as he wanted her even if she claimed otherwise.

  And if her beeper hadn’t gone off he wouldn’t still be wondering what it would be like to make love to Carly Evans, he’d know.

  Or would he?

  Dammit, all these questions were doing his head in. He was a man who dealt in facts, though right now he was behaving like an old woman in a knitting circle.

  Well, time would tell. She’d either be amenable to his visit or not and right now he didn’t much care which. If she didn’t want him he’d walk away and forget her. If she did...if she did he’d tell her it was senseless to fight it. Sex was sex. Why complicate it by abstaining, or over-thinking things?

  Stepping outside the café, he walked to the corner and hailed a cab. He settled back against the leather seat, gave the driver his address and glanced out of the window. He felt like a general who had just made the decision to send his troops into battle, his heart thudding so loudly it drowned out the rain on the cab roof.

  * * *

  Carly pulled herself out of the swimming pool and leant back in the sunshine. The weather had been a little cooler this week but the sky was mostly clear and honeybees still hovered over the last of the summer flowers.