Breaking the Playboy's Rules

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Breaking the Playboy's Rules Page 10

by MELANIE MILBURNE


  He laughed and picked up her left hand. ‘And this?’ He rubbed his thumb over her engagement ring. ‘Is this one of your designs?’

  Millie twisted her mouth and then sighed. ‘No. Julian proposed to me a couple of weeks after he was diagnosed with cancer. It caught me completely off-guard. I mean, we were teenagers, and not even thinking about setting down just yet, and then suddenly he’s asking me to marry him. I didn’t know what to do.’

  ‘So you said yes.’ There was no judgement or criticism in his tone, just gentle understanding, and it totally disarmed her.

  Millie glanced up to meet his eyes. ‘I felt so trapped from the moment he put the ring on my finger. Don’t get me wrong, I cared about him, but not enough to marry him. We were only eighteen years old. I found myself playing a role that became increasingly claustrophobic, especially when he changed. He wasn’t the same person, but then nor was I.’

  Hunter passed the pad of his thumb over the small diamond ring again. ‘Why don’t you take it off?’

  She looked at his thumb moving over the ring and something in her chest tightened. ‘I can’t get it off now. I’d have to saw it off, and I can’t quite bring myself to do it.’

  He turned the ring on her finger and tested it against her knuckle but it refused to budge. ‘That could be a problem if someone else wants to give you an engagement ring.’ His expression was inscrutable, his tone mild.

  Millie gave a light laugh. ‘That’s not going to happen. I’m not interested in settling down again. Been there, done that.’

  Hunter tapped her playfully on the tip of her nose. ‘See? I told you, you’re a girl after my own heart.’ He brought his mouth back down to hers in a lingering kiss, his hand stroking up and down the flank of her thigh. After a moment, he broke the kiss to look down at her. ‘I never did tell you my number three reason for not kissing you that day in your studio.’

  ‘Oh, yes, that’s right. What is it?’

  His eyes held hers in a glittering lock. ‘Stay here with me tonight.’

  Millie raised her brows. ‘You mean all night? That’s your number three?’

  He swept a strand of hair back off her forehead, his expression set in more serious lines. ‘I generally don’t do sleepovers.’

  ‘But you’re making an exception in my case? Why?’

  He traced a line down the curve of her cheek, a shutter coming down in his gaze. ‘You and I want the same thing—a fling without strings. We both understand what this is and know it can’t go any further.’

  Did she want the same thing, though? No strings. No promises of ‘for ever’. No long-term commitment. Tiny doubts were assembling at the back of her mind, like extras on a theatre set waiting for a call to step on stage. Doubts that lingered in the shadows of her conscience, every now and again drifting into a thin shaft of light.

  Millie brought her hand up to his face and trailed her fingers down his stubbled jaw. ‘Can we keep our...fling private for now? I mean, I don’t want Beth and Dan to get any funny ideas about us. Nor do I want to be painted as your latest squeeze in the press.’

  Hunter captured her hand and pressed a kiss to her bent knuckles. ‘Fine. But I have the perfect place to take you where we will be entirely alone.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I have a private yacht moored in Greece.’

  Millie widened her eyes. ‘You must have handled a lot of very expensive divorces in your time.’

  He gave a crooked smile. ‘I was lucky with some investments early in my career.’ He released her hand and added, ‘Was that your stomach or mine growling for food?’

  Millie placed a hand on her empty stomach. ‘I think it was mine.’

  Hunter swung his legs over the edge of the bed and then held out his hand for her with a wolfish grin. ‘Come on. We need our energy levels boosted for what I have mind later.’

  A shiver coursed down Millie’s spine and she took his hand. ‘That sounds...interesting.’

  He gathered her close, naked skin to naked skin, and another shiver cascaded over her flesh. ‘But first, a little entrée.’ He brought his mouth down to hers in a scorching kiss that set her senses on fire.

  Millie forgot all about food. All she could think about was the taste and texture of his mouth and the molten heat he evoked in her body. If this was what happened during a fling, then she wanted more of it.

  Much more.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ONCE DINNER WAS OVER, Hunter sat with Millie in front of the fireplace in his sitting room, their glasses of wine on the coffee table in front of them. His body was replete with food but hungry again for her. But he was conscious that she hadn’t had sex in a long time and too much too soon could be uncomfortable for her.

  Her response to him delighted him in ways he could barely describe. He had electric tingles from just having his arm draped across her slim shoulders. His senses were intoxicated by the fragrance of her skin and hair, his body still humming from their explosive love-making before dinner.

  You’re having a sleepover with her? The voice of his conscience prodded him, but he pointedly ignored it. They were on the same page about their fling. Neither of them wanted anything more than a short-term affair. Millie was still wearing her late fiancé’s ring and she had no intention of replacing it with anyone else’s.

  And Hunter was certainly not going to put one on her finger. A commitment of that sort had been ruled out in his head long ago. It was a decision that was reinforced, confirmed as the right one, every day of his life. He only had to think back to his mother to understand the heartache of lost love. He had no desire to experience it himself or cause someone else to experience it through his actions.

  And then, of course, there was Emma.

  If he were to marry and have a family of his own, Emma would no longer have full access to him. He would have other priorities, other responsibilities that would have to come first. She hadn’t coped when their father had left. How would she cope if Hunter created a new family, even if he did his best to be there for her? Even the most accommodating partner would find the rollercoaster of caring for his sister tiresome.

  No. He was fine living his life as he did. He knew how to get his physical needs met without compromising his own or another’s interests. He never promised what he knew he couldn’t deliver. Unlike his father, who had promised to love and protect his wife and family and then dumped them when things got a little tougher than he’d expected.

  One of the things he had never been able to forgive his father for was the loss of his beloved dog Midge. When they had been forced to move into a tiny flat, Midge had had to be rehomed. He could still remember the look of confusion on Midge’s face when they’d driven away after dropping her at the rescue shelter. Something had shut down inside him that day, a steel cage going around his heart. He had decided he would not love and lose ever again.

  Hunter lifted a hand to Millie’s head and threaded his fingers through the silk curtain of her hair. She glanced up at him and smiled, her grey-blue eyes clear and pure. Her beauty at odd moments like these stole his breath clean away. He wasn’t so shallow that looks were high up on his list of preferences, but Millie had the whole package—intelligence, looks, a kind nature and the ability to fight from her corner. He found her spirited attitude towards him potently, powerfully attractive.

  He placed his hand on the curve of her cheek and angled her head so he could plant a kiss on her soft mouth. Her lips clung to his, her arms winding around his body, her breathless sigh of encouragement sending a wave of red-hot heat through his pelvis.

  He pressed her back down on the sofa, coming over her with his weight propped on one elbow, the other hand stroking the sweet curve of her breast. ‘Whose idea was it again to get dressed before dinner?’ His tone was lightly teasing.

  Her smile made her eyes sparkle like diamonds. ‘I’m not used to
wandering around naked.’ She lifted a hand to his face and traced the outline of his mouth, making his skin tingle and his desire for her to stampede in his blood. ‘Maybe you should have a guest bathrobe on hand for your lovers when they sleep over.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’ He nibbled on the shell of her ear and she writhed in delight.

  ‘How many have slept over?’ There was nothing in her tone to suggest anything but mild interest, but the slight bracing tension in her body was a giveaway.

  Hunter meshed his gaze with hers, his hand caressing her breast underneath her top. ‘You’re the first.’ It was true. He hadn’t taken this step before. His home was his sanctuary and he didn’t want any lovers leaving toothbrushes or toiletries and thinking they had a chance of changing his mind about settling down any time soon.

  Millie’s brows shot up in surprise. ‘Really? So why me?’

  He dropped a light kiss to her mouth. ‘Someone had to be the first. It might as well be you.’

  She tugged at his hair in a playful manner. ‘That’s not a proper answer. Tell me exactly why you wanted me to stay over tonight.’

  Hunter’s gaze went to her mouth and another lightning bolt of lust slammed him in the groin. ‘Fishing for compliments, Miss Donnelly-Clarke?’ He used his court voice.

  She arched her brows, her eyes twinkling. ‘Evading the truth, Mr Addison?’

  The truth was a little too confronting for him to examine it too closely. He pushed it to the back of his mind, unwilling to cast any light on its shadowy presence. He wasn’t in any danger of falling for her. His rules were the rules for good reason.

  Hunter set to work on unbuttoning her top. ‘The truth is, I wanted to get you naked and keep you naked for hours. Any objections?’ He uncovered her breast and cradled it in his hand.

  Her cheeks flushed with pleasure and she shivered under his touch. ‘No objections.’

  * * *

  Millie woke during the night to the sound of a telephone ringing downstairs in the sitting room. She glanced at Hunter, who was sound asleep beside her, one of his strongly muscled legs flung over hers. She knew it wasn’t her phone, for she had turned it to silent, and it was in her bag on the floor next to the bed. She nudged him gently. ‘Hunter? Is that your phone?’

  He sat bolt-upright and lunged for the bedside lamp switch. ‘Shoot. I forgot to bring it upstairs.’ He swung his legs over the side of the bed, dragged a hand through his hair and stood. ‘Go back to sleep. It’s probably a prank call anyway. I sometimes get them from an aggrieved ex of a client.’ He snatched up his bathrobe and shrugged it on, loosely tying the waist ties as he left the room.

  Millie knew there was no way she would get back to sleep without knowing if there was some sort of threat coming Hunter’s way. How awful it must be to be targeted by disgruntled people who didn’t get their way in court proceedings. It didn’t bear thinking about. She pushed back the covers and slipped on Hunter’s shirt that he had left hanging over the back of a chair. It came to just above her knees but at least it offered a small measure of modesty. She padded downstairs to the sitting room, where Hunter was speaking to someone on his phone. His head was bent forward, he had a deep frown on his face and he was pinching the bridge of his nose.

  ‘Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.’ He clicked off the phone and turned and saw her standing there. ‘Sorry. I have to go out for a bit.’ His expression became shuttered, like curtains being pulled down on a stage.

  Millie frowned. ‘What for? What’s happened?’

  ‘Nothing.’ He began to move past her in quick strides.

  She caught his arm on the way past. ‘It can’t be nothing if you have to go out in the middle of the night. Was it one of those calls?’

  He looked at her blankly. ‘What calls?’ His tone was blunt to the point of rudeness.

  ‘The threatening calls you told me about, just then upstairs.’

  ‘No.’ His eyes flicked away from hers. ‘It’s...something else.’

  ‘What, though?’

  A flash of anger backlit his tawny gaze. ‘What part of “go back to sleep” are you having trouble understanding?’

  Millie straightened her spine and met him glare for glare. ‘What part of “I want to know what’s going on” are you having trouble understanding?’

  He held her feisty look for a pulsing moment. But then he expelled a heavy breath, the anger going out of him with a weary drop of his broad shoulders. ‘Look—I don’t mean to be rude, but this is something I’m best left to deal with alone.’

  ‘I shared my body with you tonight, Hunter. That was a big deal for me. At least have the decency to share with me what’s going on. How do I know you’re not going out to a booty call or something?’

  Hunter let out another ragged sigh. ‘It’s my sister. She’s having a difficult moment. I have to go to her to help settle her down. Her carer is not coping.’

  Millie rapid-blinked, her own anger at his intractability leaking out of her like air out of a punctured balloon. ‘Her carer? Emma needs a carer?’

  His expression was grim. ‘Yes. Her favourite one is on leave at the moment and she’s having trouble adjusting. I won’t be long. Just go back to bed and I’ll see you in the morning.’ He turned to leave the room but Millie followed him.

  ‘I’m coming with you.’

  ‘No, Millie. Please. This is not your affair. It’s mine.’

  She wasn’t taking no for an answer. How could she go back to sleep in his bed as if nothing was the matter? ‘Hunter, I’m coming with you, even if I just sit in the car and wait for you. It’s three in the morning. You might fall asleep at the wheel coming home and cause an accident.’

  He was either too tired to stand up to her or something about her argument got through to the lawyer in him at last. ‘Okay. But be quick. I haven’t got time to waste.’

  Millie was so quick getting dressed, she could have set a world record. She followed him out to the car, and they were soon on their way. It had rained during the night and the streetlights cast starbursts of glistening light on the road. It seemed to take for ever, but in reality it was only a short time later when Hunter pulled up in front of a lovely little townhouse nearby.

  He opened his door and glanced at her, his features set in somewhat bitter lines of resignation. ‘You’d better come in. I don’t like the thought of you waiting out here alone in the car.’

  ‘Okay.’ Millie didn’t give him time to come round and help her out—she was beside him on the footpath before he’d even got out himself.

  Hunter used his own key to open the front door and led the way into the house. Millie got the sense that as soon as he crossed over the threshold he forgot she was even there—he was focussed intently on going straight to his sister. She hung back, caught between wanting to help but also not wanting to intrude. She could hear sobbing from one of the bedrooms and then the gentle soothing of Hunter’s deep baritone.

  ‘Hey, poppet, what’s all this fuss about, hmm? Shh. I’m here now.’

  There was the sound of sniffling. ‘I had a bad dream that Rupinder decided not to come back. She’s going to, isn’t she? She promised me she would come back.’

  ‘Of course she’s coming back,’ Hunter said. ‘She’s just looking after her mother for a bit. She’ll be back in a couple of days.’

  Millie couldn’t stop herself from approaching the bedroom. She stood in the doorway and caught the eye of the carer who was standing to one side looking rather helpless. Hunter glanced over his shoulder as if he sensed Millie’s presence. A mixture of emotions passed over his face in a lightning-fast moment—annoyance, frustration, despair. It was the despair that made her step further into the room, thus capturing Emma’s attention.

  ‘Hello,’ Millie said with a smile. ‘You’re Emma?’

  ‘Yes, who are you?’

  Mi
llie came closer to the bed. ‘I’m Millie. I’m a...friend of your brother’s.’ A friend? A lover? It was hard to describe exactly what she was to him now. A fling partner?

  Emma’s gaze swung to Hunter, a smile lighting up her features. ‘Are you going to marry her? She’s very beautiful, like a princess.’

  Millie could feel herself blushing to the roots of her hair, but Hunter took his sister’s question with implacable calm. ‘I don’t think she would have me, poppet.’ His voice contained a distinct note of ruefulness, but Millie knew it was for show. The last thing he wanted to do was marry anyone, much less her.

  Emma glanced at Millie’s left hand and frowned. ‘But she’s wearing an engagement ring.’

  ‘It’s not mine.’ Hunter said.

  Emma swung her gaze back to Millie. ‘Whose is it?’

  ‘My...erm...fiancé’s. He passed away three years ago.’

  Emma’s brow wrinkled as she processed the information. ‘Passed away?’

  ‘He died,’ Millie said, realising Emma might not understand the euphemistic term. ‘He had a brain tumour.’

  ‘My mummy died ten years ago,’ Emma informed her gravely. ‘But she’s in heaven now, watching over me, isn’t she, Hunter?’

  Hunter gave a tender smile that sent an arrow straight to Millie’s heart. ‘Yes, poppet, she is. Now, it’s time you got back to sleep and let Judy finish her shift. I need to get Millie home.’

  So, he didn’t intend to take her back to his place for what was left of the night. Millie fought back her disappointment, knowing it was completely understandable, given the circumstances. But she desperately wanted to talk to him about Emma’s situation. It was clear the young woman had some sort of disorder, giving her an almost childlike understanding of the world. Why hadn’t he told her about his sister in more detail? Or did he think that would have been a breach of Emma’s privacy? All the same, Millie had shared so much of her own background, it didn’t seem fair he hadn’t trusted her with his.

 

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