Millionaire's Woman: The Millionaire's Prospective Wife / The Millionaire's Runaway Bride / The Millionaire's Reward

Stunning it might be but she regretted wearing it right now. No, no she didn’t, she qualified in the next moment. She wanted to look sexy and beautiful to him. But then again it was the last thing she wanted. Which didn’t make sense…Their gazes were still locked and she forced herself to break it, pulling back a little and glancing round the room as she said, ‘It’s a present, the dress. I didn’t have anything remotely good enough for this place.’ Suddenly the need to make him see they were poles apart was paramount.

‘Who from?’

‘What?’ She glanced at him again.

‘A present from whom?’ he asked quietly, a look on his face now that Cory couldn’t quite pin down.

‘Oh, my Aunt Joan.’ The music had changed and now a livelier number had drawn more people on to the dance floor. Cory noticed they were the only couple still entwined but when she tried to disentangle herself from his arms they merely tightened.

‘Your Aunt Joan.’ His face had cleared. ‘Not an admirer then?’

‘An admirer?’ She stared at him, mingled surprise and outrage vying for first place. ‘Of course not. As if I’d accept a present like this from a man.’

‘It happens.’ His voice was dry.

‘Not with me it doesn’t.’ She glared at him.

‘I’m very pleased to hear it.’

He was laughing at her! Oh, not openly, but she knew amusement was there in the tone of his voice and the way the firm, hard mouth was trying not to smile. ‘You can let go of me for this dance,’ she said frostily.

‘Perhaps I don’t want to let you go.’

‘People are looking.’

‘Let them look.’ He bent his head and skimmed her mouth with his lips. ‘There, that’ll give them something to talk about,’ he said evenly.

For one giddy instant the room swam. The caress had been too fleeting to be called a kiss but she’d felt the contact right down to her Covent Garden shod toes. She blinked. ‘Don’t do that, please,’ she said as firmly as her breathing would allow. ‘It’s not in the agreement.’

‘We didn’t discuss the finer points, if I remember correctly.’

Cory ignored the little flame that had been ignited deep inside and frowned at him. ‘Perhaps because I thought it wasn’t necessary and that you were a gentleman.’

He grinned, completely unabashed. ‘Big mistake,’ he said cheerfully.

She ought to be furious at the arrogance but instead she found herself trying not to smile. But she couldn’t let him suspect that. ‘Shall I spell it out for you then?’

‘Please do,’ he said politely, laughter glinting in his eyes.

‘I agreed to come here tonight because I’m in your debt about Rufus, but acting as your—’

‘Girlfriend?’ he put in helpfully.

‘Companion,’ she corrected firmly, ‘only necessitates the most elementary bodily contact.’

He looked as though he was enjoying himself. ‘Define elementary,’ he said interestedly, his hand at her waist finding bare skin through one of the carefully positioned leaf transparencies and stroking it almost absent-mindedly.

Cory took a steadying breath. ‘In this context elementary means straightforward, simple.’ Her skin was melting. ‘Rudimentary,’ she added desperately.

His head tilted as though he was considering what she’d just said. ‘Sorry, can’t agree to that.’ His eyes danced over her hot face. ‘Call it the interest on the debt if you like, but for this evening you’re my consort and I’m not the kind of guy who is happy with…elementary bodily contact.’

In the same moment that the music finished Cory noticed David and the blonde at their elbow, the other man’s close set eyes fastened avidly on their faces. It was enough to break the spell of Nick’s closeness, and it enabled her to jerk away out of his arms. ‘I’d like to sit down now, please.’

‘Sure.’ He took her hand, weaving his way through the couples on the dance floor and pulling out her chair for her when they reached their table.

Had David Blackwell been listening to their exchange? Cory tried to think exactly what had been said and what impression an eavesdropper might have formed as she sipped at her champagne, but it was difficult with the music and conversation all around. Making the excuse that she needed to visit the Ladies’ cloakroom, she rose from the table, vitally aware of Nick’s eyes on her as she left the room although she didn’t glance his way.

Once in the relative quiet of the reception area she found the cloakroom—an elaborate affair of marble and mirrors—and sat down on one of the cream cushioned seats in the outer area to repair her lipstick. As her mind continued to dissect all that had been said on the dance floor she had to stop herself from groaning out loud. It might have sounded almost as if she was a hired escort of the most basic kind to anyone who didn’t know the true facts.

She put the lipstick back in her purse, fiddling with her hair as her mind sped on. But then what she’d thought earlier still applied—she’d never see any of these people again so it didn’t matter how they viewed her. She just didn’t like someone like the Blackwell man getting the wrong idea, that was all. Admittedly she didn’t know him but the guy gave her the creeps.

She straightened her back, her eyes narrowing as she stared at the reflection in the mirror. She wasn’t going to worry about David Blackwell or anyone else for that matter. She’d fulfil her obligations tonight and make sure she went home alone in a taxi in view of Nick’s earlier comments. She wasn’t sure if he would be crass enough to try anything on when she’d made it clear how she felt, but she wouldn’t give him the chance. The man was dangerous—she refused to qualify to herself that it was her response to him that was dangerous—and she didn’t need any complications in her life at the moment.

When she stepped out of the cloakroom Cory had only taken a couple of steps when David caught hold of her wrist. He made her jump, having come up behind her, and her voice was sharp as she shook her hand free and said, ‘Don’t do that, please.’

‘Sorry, sorry.’ He was smiling but she’d noticed before that his smiles didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I just wanted a word with you, that’s all.’

‘Couldn’t it have waited until we’re at the table?’

‘In private.’ His voice was low. ‘I wanted to speak to you in private, Cory.’

She didn’t like the way he spoke her name in that slightly conspiratorial tone and her voice reflected this when she said, ‘I don’t know you. How could we have anything to discuss privately?’

‘Look, I’ll come clean.’

He was too close and the amount of aftershave he was wearing was making her feel nauseous. It had a sickly sweet scent with a tang of something else beneath it, much like the man himself, she suspected.

‘I couldn’t help overhearing what you and Nick were saying on the dance floor and I take it you aren’t his actual girlfriend?’

Cory stared into the weasely face. Was this a come-on, because if it was he’d get more than he’d bargained for.

When she neither confirmed nor denied this, he went on, ‘The thing is, I suppose you know he’s just taken over the firm, lock, stock and barrel? A lot of people were upset at first but they’ve all gone quiet, pay-offs I suppose,’ he added bitterly.

Where was this going? ‘That’s nothing to do with me.’

‘I know that but—’ He paused. ‘Look, it was clear from what he said that he fancies you and that you aren’t interested. Most women fall in adoration at his feet.’ Again hot resentment came through loud and strong. ‘That being the case, I’d make it worth your while if you could find out a couple of things for me.’

‘What?’ She stared at him in absolute amazement.

‘If you just jollied him along I’m sure he’d talk to you. You know, pillow talk. You could ask him about the takeover and how people were, whether he paid on the quiet to get Martin’s co-operation, things like that. I reckon I’m the only one who hasn’t had a backhander and it’s not fair.’

He wanted a backhander? She’d give him one right round his nasty little face if he said another word. And pillow talk? How dared he? ‘If you want to know anything about Mr Morgan’s dealings with the rest of your associates I suggest you ask him yourself,’ Cory said icily. ‘OK?’

His eyes narrowed at her tone but then a wheedling note came into his voice. ‘That’d be no good, facing him head on like that. It’s the ladies who are his weakness. You could get more out of him with just being friendly than I could in a month of Sundays. He wouldn’t suspect anything if that’s what’s worrying you. He’s used to women throwing themselves at him all the time.’

‘Really?’ If she’d been anywhere else but her present surroundings, Cory would have socked him on the jaw. ‘And I wonder why that is? Could it be that he is a real man rather than a snivelling little excuse for one? You picked the wrong woman to ask to do your dirty work, Mr Blackwell, and the minute I go back into that room Mr Morgan will be told of your proposition, all right?’

‘That won’t be necessary.’