An Officer and a Millionaire / Mr Strictly Business: An Officer and a Millionaire / Mr Strictly Business

This castle had become her home, and she refused to let Hunter take that feeling away from her.

“I don’t owe you anything,” she said, keeping her tone calm and dispassionate, which wasn’t easy.

His mouth curved in a smile that had nothing to do with humor. “Now see, that’s not the right tack to take.”

“How about this one, then? You’re hurting me,” she said, with a glance down to where his fingers were clenched around her elbow. Instantly, Hunter’s grip on her elbow loosened. Not that he actually let her go, but the strength in his fingers eased up a bit.

“Sorry.” He blew out a breath and glanced all around the empty hallway before dipping his head to speak to her again. “But after everything Simon just told me, I think you and I need to talk.”

“Simon explained everything?” Thank heaven. He was supposed to have had this chat with Hunter before the man came home, and that would have made this situation a lot easier. But if Simon had told his grandson what was going on, what was left to talk about?

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m cool with it, so like I said, start talking.”

Now that he wasn’t holding her so tightly, it was easy enough to pull herself free of his grasp. So she did, then took a step backward for good measure. “I don’t know why I should explain myself to you when Simon’s already done it.”

“I can think of a reason. In fact,” Hunter added, “I can think of five million reasons.”

She blanched. “You don’t seriously believe I’m doing this for the money?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Margie sucked in a breath. “Why, you self-righteous, judgmental, arrogant son of a—”

His narrowed gaze flicked past her briefly; then he grabbed her, yanked her close and kissed Margie so hard she almost forgot to breathe.

Sensation raced through her bloodstream until every inch of her body was standing up and shouting Yippee! Her stomach dropped, her heartbeat thundered in her chest and her mind fuzzed out so totally, she couldn’t have given her own name if asked.

Her whole world had come down to the feeling of Hunter’s mouth on hers. His tongue pushing past her lips to sweep inside her warmth. His breath sliding into her. His arms wrapped around her like taut wire, binding her to his body, until all she could do was lift her own arms to hook them behind his neck.

She opened to him eagerly, hungrily, reacting solely to the passion he’d ignited. Didn’t seem to matter that he was insulting, annoying and a bully. All that counted now was what he was making her feel. Never before had she reacted so completely to something so simple as a kiss. But then, this was no simple kiss, either.

There was heat and fire and lust and fury all rolled into one incredible ball of energy that felt as though it was consuming her.

Then it was over as quickly as it had begun. She staggered a little when he let her go. Not surprising, really, since he’d kissed her blind. “What? How? What?”

His lips quirked at one corner of his mouth before he again looked past her and said, “Sophie!”

Oh, God. The housekeeper, Margie thought, instantly feeling a flush of embarrassment.

But Hunter dropped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close to his side as he greeted the older woman. “I was so busy getting reacquainted with my wife,” he was saying. “I didn’t see you come up.”

How was he able to joke and laugh and speak coherently after what they’d just experienced? Margie looked up at him and couldn’t believe that he was so unmoved by what had happened. How could he not have felt what she had? How could something that powerful be so one-sided?

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Sophie said. “It’s good to see two such lovebirds canoodling.”

Canoodling?

“I’m so glad to have you home again. Now you two go on upstairs, and we’ll see you for dinner, all right? Cook’s making all of your favorites, Mr. Hunter.” Sophie gave him a quick hug. “We’re all so happy to have you home again. Aren’t we, Margie?”

Hunter finally looked down at her, and Margie saw the light of challenge in his eyes. “That right, babe? Are you happy to have me home?”

Margie still felt shaky from that kiss, but she didn’t want to let him know how he’d affected her. Especially since that kiss had seemed to mean nothing to him. So she met his look with one of her own, then forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Oh, happy doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling.”

Dinner took forever.

Simon was at the head of the table acting like Father Christmas or something, and Hunter’s “wife” was sitting directly opposite him, alternately ignoring him and sending him looks designed to set his hair on fire.

As for Hunter, all he could think was, he never should have kissed her.

Damn it.

Ever since tasting her, the only thing he wanted was another taste. And that couldn’t happen. No way was he going to hook himself even deeper into this little fiasco his grandfather had arranged. For all he knew, his little “wife” was counting on seducing Hunter into making this a real marriage. Maybe that was her grand plan.

But how could it be her plan when it had been his idea to kiss her? Gritting his teeth, he avoided looking at the woman across from him and tried to draw his mind away from the memory of her mouth on his. Useless. He’d been trying for hours to forget exactly how he’d felt when his mouth had come down on hers. To brush aside the near electrical jolt of pure, white hot lust and desire that had threatened to crush him.

Hell, if it hadn’t been for Sophie standing there in the hall, he might have pushed Margie up against a wall and…

Way to not think about it, he chided himself.

His body was hard and achy, and his mind was still spinning from the effect she’d had on him. She’d fit into the circle of his arms as though she’d been made for him. The taste of her lingered in his mouth, and the memory of the feel of her curves pressed along his body had kept him hard as stone for hours.

She wasn’t at all the kind of woman he usually went for. So Hunter couldn’t explain even to himself why he was suddenly so filled with the need to touch her again. To kiss her again. He should be thinking about strangling her for what she was doing here in this house.

Instead…

Damn it. Even as he looked across the table at her, wearing a shapeless blue dress with a high collar and short puffy sleeves, his mind was stripping away her clothes. Laying her bare on the fussy quilt that now covered his bed. In his mind, he was kissing every curvy inch of her, burying himself inside her and—

And, if he didn’t turn his thoughts to other things, he’d never be able to stand up from this table without showing the world just how much he wanted her.

Grimly, Hunter fought for control. He looked at her again and tried to see past the softly curling dark red hair and bright green eyes. He shoved aside the memory of how she’d felt in his arms and instead tried to figure out how much of her “I’m innocent” act was for real. On the surface, she seemed to be exactly what she was portraying. A young woman doing a favor for a lonely old man. But for all Hunter knew, she was just a hell of a good actress. And if she was playing him, how much easier it would have been for her to play Simon.

They never had gotten around to having their “talk” earlier. After kissing her, Hunter hadn’t trusted himself to be alone with her. So instead, he’d taken one of the horses Simon still kept and went for a ride over the property. Not that the long ride had done a thing for his sanity. Because images of Margie had ridden with him every step of the way.

“More wine, Hunter?”

Hunter looked at his grandfather and nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

But he knew even as more of the dark red wine was poured into his glass that there wasn’t enough liquor in the world to ease the wild, churning thoughts running through his brain. Why her? he asked himself. Why this short, argumentative con artist? Hell, he’d just finished a relationship with Gretchen, a six-foot-tall model with the face of an angel and even she’d never gotten to him as deeply as this one tiny redhead had.

Gritting his teeth, he took another bite of the pot roast prepared just for him. It might as well have been cardboard. He’d been looking forward to coming home. Having a few days to relax and not worry about a damn thing. Well, that was shot, he told himself. Everywhere he went in the damn house, someone was winking at him or smiling knowingly.

Having every servant in the house treating him like a newlywed was annoying. Having his “wife” within arm’s reach and untouchable was irritating. Hell of a homecoming.

The last mission he’d been on, Hunter had been wounded, cut off from his team, and he had had to find his own way out of hostile territory. Eight days he’d been alone and fighting for his life—and what he was going through now made that time seem like a weekend at Disneyland.

“There’s a dance at the end of the week,” Simon said, dragging Hunter gratefully from his thoughts. “To celebrate the new addition to the clinic.”

“That’s nice.” He didn’t give a damn about a dance.