But Millie fascinated him, and he couldn’t wait to see her again. He wanted to feel her lips on his again—not in that light-as-air way but with full-on passion. He knew she was more than capable of it. He saw it in her eyes, felt it like an electric energy charging the air. She wanted him but was resisting him out of some sense of loyalty to her dead fiancé.
Was it love that held her back or something else?
But there was another reason he wanted to see Millie again. He was determined to get justice for her mother Eleanora, who reminded him so much of his own mother. It churned his gut to see how badly she had been treated, exploited by every husband, this latest one by far the worst. It could take months to uncover the fraudulent behaviour of her husband and that would come at a cost. A cost Millie was paying on behalf of her mother. Hunter wasn’t going to see Millie go under financially. He had plenty of money. He didn’t need her to go bankrupt to pay him. He regularly did pro bono work. Of course, he didn’t broadcast it too widely, in case everyone expected it. But now and again a case would come along, it would light a fire in his belly and he would give it his all.
And this case had created an inferno.
* * *
Millie was trying not to count the days until her next ‘date’ with Hunter. She was in her studio working on some new designs on Thursday afternoon when her assistant Harriet came in from the shop front. ‘Someone here to see you, Millie.’
‘Who is it?’
‘That hotshot lawyer guy—Hunter Addison,’ she said, and then added in a stage whisper whilst pretending to fan her face, ‘Oh, my goodness, he’s gorgeous!’
Millie put down her flat-nosed pliers and rose from her chair. ‘Send him in.’ She could only imagine what her assistant would make of Hunter coming to visit her. Harriet, just like everyone else in her life, was keen for her to go out more. But was going out with Hunter going to do more harm than good?
Hunter came into her studio, having to lower his head to get through the doorway. ‘Hard at work?’ he asked with a smile.
‘Always.’
He placed a hand on his chest. ‘Ah, a girl after my own heart.’
Millie gave him a quelling look. ‘I don’t think so.’
He came further into the room and the space shrunk as if it had turned into a shoebox. A child’s shoebox. He looked down at the piece she was working on—a bespoke diamond engagement-and-wedding ring ensemble for a client. ‘Nice. I had no idea you were so talented.’
‘Thank you. I guess you’ll know where to come now if you ever find yourself in the market for an engagement or wedding ring.’
He gave a deep chuckle of wry laughter. ‘Unless I undergo some sort of personality bypass, that is not going to happen.’
Millie lifted her chin a fraction, her gaze steady on his. ‘Never say never.’
Hunter’s eyes darkened and her heart skipped a beat. ‘Right back at you, sweetheart.’
She frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He took another step closer, so close she could see every black pinpoint of the stubble peppering his jawline, and every fine line and crease on his sensual lips. Lips she had ever so briefly touched with her own and ever since had wished she had not lifted them off so quickly.
‘What are you doing tonight?’ he asked.
If Millie lifted her chin any higher she was going to fall over backwards. What was it about his arrogant confidence that infuriated her so much? ‘Why?’
‘I want to see you.’ His gaze flicked to her mouth. ‘I have something I want to discuss with you. I decided I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.’
‘Don’t you know that patience is a virtue?’
He gave a devilish grin that made him look even more dangerously attractive. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have too many virtues, only vices.’
‘I can only imagine what they might be.’ Her tone was straight out of a nineteenth-century Sunday School room. But nothing in her body felt as prim as her tone. Molten heat was pouring into all her secret places, flames of heat licking at her flesh, ignited by the glint in his gaze.
Hunter sent an idle finger down the curve of her hot cheek. ‘I have this irresistible urge to kiss you.’ His voice dropped to a deep burr of sound that made the base of her spine fizz.
‘I’m not sure that’s such a great idea right now...’ Millie’s heart was beating so hard and so fast, it felt as though she was having some sort of medical crisis. Hunter kissing her might not be a great idea, but it was what she desperately wanted. But admitting it to him would come at the cost of her pride. ‘I—I’m at work and my assistant could come in and—’
‘So, we’ll lock the door.’ He took the couple of strides back to the door and clicked the lock into place, the sound in the silence like a gunshot. ‘See? Problem solved.’
Millie had a feeling her problems were only just beginning. ‘I kissed you the other day and—’
‘That wasn’t a kiss.’ He took her by the upper arms in a passionate hold straight out of a nineteen-fifties Hollywood movie. ‘This is a kiss.’ And then his mouth came down on hers.
Millie was not prepared for the inferno of lust that slammed into her body as soon as his mouth connected with hers. Her lips moulded to his as if fashioned specifically for him. His lips were firm, hard and insistent, and yet gently persuasive too. He angled his head to deepen the kiss, a low, deep groan coming from the back of his throat. She opened her mouth on a breathless gasp to the commanding stroke of his tongue, her senses whirling as potent heat shot through her entire body.
He crushed her against him, his arms winding around her so there was nothing between them but their clothes. And even through their clothes she could feel the urgent rise of his body against hers. Her own body was responding with primal instinct, melting, liquefying, yielding. His mouth continued its sensual exploration of hers, fuelling her desire to a level she had never experienced before. Hot, urgent, pounding desire that raced through her body with an ache that was part pleasure, part pain. Both extreme tantalisation and exquisite torture.
Hunter loosened his hold and brought his hands up to cradle her face, his mouth still clamped to hers as if he couldn’t bear to be away from it. Millie returned his kiss with equal passion, hungry for the taste and texture of his mouth, greedy for the heightening of her senses that drove every thought out of her head other than how much she wanted him. He changed position again, releasing another guttural groan as his tongue mated with hers in a dance as old as time. Desire travelled in a lightning-fast streak up and down her spine, smouldering in a pool of liquid fire between her legs.
She had never been so aroused.
Never been so turned on by a kiss.
Never wanted someone so much it felt like a pain she would do anything to assuage.
Hunter fisted one of his hands in her hair, his mouth moving with hers in an explosively hot exchange of need. Need she could feel pounding in his body where it pressed so shockingly, intimately against hers. The same need she could feel in her own body, the low, dragging ache, the tension of inner muscles, the dewy heat of lust.
He finally dragged his mouth off hers, his breathing as erratic as her own, his eyes glazed with desire. ‘So, that clears up that, then.’
Millie tried to disguise the way he had completely ambushed her senses by retreating into a cool mask of indifference. ‘Clears what up?’
He smiled and traced around her mouth with a lazy finger. ‘You want me so bad.’
She batted his hand away as if it were an annoying insect, frowning for good measure. ‘It was just a kiss, Addison. Nothing else.’
‘Ah, yes, but what a kiss.’
Millie folded her arms across her body—her traitorous body, her still aching with lust—and cast him another look cold enough to mess with the air-conditioning thermostat on the wall. ‘I know what you’re trying to do.�
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‘What am I trying to do?’
‘You see me as a challenge.’
‘You’re definitely that but a delightfully entertaining one.’
Millie turned away before she was tempted to fling herself back into his arms. She went back behind her work bench, using it as a barricade. ‘You said you had something to discuss with me. Is it to do with Mum’s situation?’
He straightened one of the cuffs of his business shirt. ‘I have a proposition to put to you.’
Millie held his smouldering gaze with her frosty one. ‘I hope it’s not an indecent one?’ Seriously, she could have been transported from a Victorian ladies’ college.
The atmosphere began to throb with tension. Erotic tension that made her skin tighten all over and her heart rate spike.
Hunter smiled an enigmatic smile and picked up her jeweller’s saw from the work bench and ran his fingertips slowly over the row of teeth. After a brief moment, he put the tool down again and met her gaze with his inscrutable one. ‘I’ve decided to do your mother’s divorce pro bono.’
Millie rapid-blinked and her heart missed a beat. ‘Why on earth would you do that?’ Suspicion was ripe in her tone.
He gave a rueful smile. ‘Not for the reasons you’re thinking.’
Her chin came up a fraction. ‘How do you know what I’m thinking?’ She was thinking how wonderful it would be if she didn’t have to pay thousands of pounds in legal fees. Pounds she could ill afford.
But she was also thinking, What does Hunter want in return?
And, worse, how was she ever going to find the willpower to say no to him?
Hunter’s eyes moved back and forth between each of hers in an unnervingly assessing manner. ‘You have very expressive eyes and they’re not always in agreement with what you say.’
Millie looked away, worried he was seeing far more than she wanted him to. ‘It’s a very generous offer but I’m afraid I can’t accept it. It would...complicate things.’
‘How?’
She brought her gaze back to his. ‘You know how.’
He arched one eyebrow, one side of his mouth lifting in a lopsided smile. ‘You really do have an appalling opinion of my character, don’t you?’
‘I speak as I find.’
‘Let me assure you, I don’t need to resort to blackmail to get a woman to sleep with me.’
Millie couldn’t drag her eyes away from the shape of his mouth. She could still taste him on her lips—the salty tang that was as addictive as a drug. ‘I—I don’t understand why you’d make such an offer to go pro bono if you didn’t want something in return.’
‘Suffice it to say, I feel sorry for your mother.’ He scraped a hand through his hair and gave a rough-edged sigh. ‘She reminds me of my mother. Gentle, sweet, trusting, naïve. I hate seeing people like that get done over. It’s highly likely it will take quite some time to uncover all the funds that have been siphoned off, and that is extremely costly.’
Millie searched his gaze for a long moment. ‘But what about the forensic accountant you mentioned? We’ll have to pay him, won’t we?’
‘I’ve already spoken to Matteo about it. He’s happy to go pro bono too.’
Millie chewed at her lip, torn between wanting to howl with relief and throwing her arms around Hunter to thank him. ‘I don’t know what to say...’
He came round her side of the work bench and placed his hands on the tops of her shoulders. ‘Hey, you’re not going to go all weepy on me, are you?’
She gave a tremulous smile. ‘I might...’ She brushed the back of her hand across her right cheek. ‘But I should warn you, I’m a messy crier.’
He brushed the pad of his thumb beneath her left eye where a couple of tears had leaked out despite her best efforts, his gaze warm. ‘I’m used to it. My sister is the highly emotional type. Cries at commercials featuring puppies or kittens or babies. Drives me nuts. Not to mention costing me a fortune in tissues.’
‘She sounds like a really nice person.’
And so do you... Millie wanted to add, but stopped herself just in time. She couldn’t allow herself to like him...could she?
Hunter’s hands came away from her shoulders and a mask dropped down over his features, as if he regretted talking about his sister. It intrigued her as to why. He sounded as if he really cared about Emma. And why was he the one paying for her tissues? Why would he not want to talk about her? What was going on in Emma’s life that made it difficult for him to be open about her?
‘What time are you wrapping up here?’ Hunter waved a hand towards her workbench, his business-like tone so different from only moments ago.
Millie glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘Gosh, is that the time? Harriet was meant to leave half an hour ago.’
Hunter moved across to unlock the door. He undid the lock and asked over his shoulder, ‘Dinner tonight? I’ll pick you up at the same time.’
‘Why don’t you let me cook you dinner? I mean, as a thank you.’ The invitation was out before Millie could monitor her tongue. What was she thinking, asking him back to her flat when it was likely Zoey would be home? Not only that, her flat was hardly penthouse material, and she was pretty sure Hunter Addison was the penthouse-residing type. Besides, he was used to fine dining in fancy restaurants. How gauche and unsophisticated of her to offer him a home-cooked meal.
‘How about we both cook dinner? At my place.’
‘That would be...fun, thank you.’
Fun? Don’t you mean flipping dangerous? At least if they had gone to her flat she would have had safety in numbers with Zoey there. Not that she could always rely on Zoey being there, as she was often away on advertising business with her father.
But maybe it was better to see Hunter out of the public eye. He attracted a fair bit of press attention and was often photographed with his latest lover. How would Julian’s mother feel to see Millie gallivanting around town with an out-and-out playboy?
‘I’ll organise mains—you do dessert,’ he said. ‘How does that sound?’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
He opened the door and Harriet almost tumbled in, as if she’d been listening at the door, her face going beetroot-red. ‘Oops, sorry. I just wanted to see if it’s okay to go home now?’
Millie nodded. ‘Yep. Sorry to hold you up. We had...erm...some business to discuss.’
Hunter winked at Millie. ‘Until tonight.’ And then, with a flash of a charming smile to the star-struck Harriet, he was gone.
CHAPTER SIX
MILLIE BARELY HAD time to get home and shower and change before Hunter was due to pick her up. She had rushed home via the supermarket and bought fresh raspberries and cream and some hand-made chocolates, her anticipation of the evening ahead rising as every minute passed.
But, just as she was putting the last touches to her make-up, her phone buzzed with a text message. She picked up her phone and read the text from Hunter.
Slight change of plans. Will send a car for you. I have to see someone for half an hour. Sam will take you to my house and let you in. Make yourself at home. Hunter.
Millie quickly texted back.
Do you want to take a rain check?
The three little dots showed he was typing back and within a couple of seconds his reply came through.
Definitely not. :)
She clicked off her phone and finished her make-up, wondering who he was seeing. Her stomach nose-dived. Surely not another woman? A quick little hook-up in case she didn’t put out? She bit down on her lip until it hurt. She didn’t like to think he was the sort of man to do something like that. The more she got to know him, the more she saw the commendable traits in his character. Yes, he was charming, teasing and playful, but underneath that she could sense he was a deeply loyal and principled man. Why else would he be doing her mother’s divorce pro bono?
* * *
Hunter checked in on Emma on his way home because Judy, the carer, had phoned him to say Emma was being a little obstreperous. He suspected Emma was probably having trouble adjusting to Rupinder’s absence, as she was her favourite carer, and Emma had become rather attached to her. He organised for his handyman-cum-gardener, Sam, to pick up Millie in case visiting Emma took longer than expected, but he didn’t tell her he was visiting his sister. He had already told her far more than he would tell anyone. Millie was exactly the sort of person Emma would be drawn to—warm, sweet, compassionate. Emma would fall for her in a heartbeat and then what would he do? The last thing he needed was any more complications in his life.
But his attraction to Millie was already one big complication. He had never felt so drawn to someone before. Not just physically, although that was off the charts, but more a sense that she might be a little difficult to walk away from the way he did so effortlessly with other lovers. Would she agree to a short-term fling? That was also part of the attraction—she resisted him, and it turned him on all the more. Not in a creepy ‘I’m going to wear her down’ way, but because he was sure, underneath that prim and proper exterior, she was a deeply passionate woman who had locked herself away.
Unfortunately, when Hunter arrived Emma was in the middle of one of her temper tantrums over some perceived slight by Judy.
‘Whoa there, poppet, what’s got you all worked up?’ he said, crouching down beside her on the floor where she was thrashing about like she was three years old. But in a way, she was still three years old. The anguish over that fact never failed to grab him by the guts in a cruel fist. He often wondered who and what Emma could have been if it hadn’t been for the genetic mix-up that had happened in utero. And he also wondered in his darkest moments why it had got her and not him. He had dodged a genetic bullet, and a large dose of survivor guilt was the payoff.
Emma lifted her red and tear-stained face off the carpet and pouted. ‘Judy won’t let me have what I want for supper.’
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