Australian Millionaires: The Millionaire's Seductive Revenge

She spun around to face him. Of all the arrogant … “How dare you!” she managed to say.

He merely looked amused. “How dare I be in your house? You didn’t mind me being here last night.”

She glared at him. He made it sound as if they’d been making love all night. “I’m talking about the security alarm.”

His forehead creased. “He didn’t do a good job?”

“Yes, he did a good job, but that’s not the point. He was supposed to fix the lock, not put in an alarm system.” She’d thought the man had been merely checking security risks when he’d started going from room to room. By the time she’d realized he was doing the whole thing, he’d climbed on the roof and had half the place wired.

“I thought an alarm system would be better.”

“You thought? Where do you get off ordering an alarm for me?”

“I told you. The company will pay for it.”

“It’s not the money,” she said through gritted teeth.

His eyebrows lifted with cynicism. “Really? Then what’s the problem?”

“This is my home, Brant. My private life. You’re interfering in it. You’ve no right to even be here, let alone tell someone to install an expensive piece of equipment like this. Heck, it’s not even technically my house.”

His shrug belied the hard gleam in his eyes. “Don’t make a big deal out of this, Kia. You’re Phillip’s fiancée now. He wants you to be safe.”

She tried not to wince. “Phillip knows about the alarm?”

“As you’re now his fiancée, I suggested it and he agreed. We all know it’s quite common for criminals to return to the scene of the crime. You either had to get an alarm or move.”

She flashed him a look of disdain. “Oh, really. And where would you like me to live?”

“How about with your fiancé?”

She gulped and quickly spun away to turn off the air-conditioning. Anything not to look at Brant. “Phillip and I haven’t discussed that yet.”

“That’s what Phil said.”

Relief rushed through her. “There you are then.” She remembered the security alarm and glared at him. “Anyway, you and Phillip have no right to tell me what to do or what to put in my own house. And as soon as he gets here, I’ll be making that quite clear.”

“Then you’re going to have a bit of a wait,” he said, his gaze seeming to watch her reaction. “He’s not coming. He rang and asked me to take you to the exhibition instead. He said he wasn’t feeling up to it today.”

Her stomach knotted. She didn’t want to go to the exhibition with Brant. Damn Phillip for being selfish enough not to turn up. She was beginning to think taking the easy way out was a weakness he couldn’t control.

“Why didn’t he phone me himself?”

“He said he’d tried a couple of times but kept getting the busy signal.”

She bristled with indignation. “Because the alarm was being connected to the phone line, that’s why.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going without Phillip.”

His eyes narrowed. “Phil said one of our clients invited him to the exhibition.”

“Er … yes …” She licked her lips. “But it just wouldn’t be the same without Phillip. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“They may, but I won’t. This is a work assignment, Kia. Think of it as payment for the security alarm.”

Her mouth tightened. So there was a catch to his free and easy statement of “the company will pay for it.”

“Perhaps I should go by myself … on behalf of the company, that is. There’s no need for you to waste your Saturday afternoon.” She didn’t want to deprive some poor besotted female of his company either.

“I wouldn’t think of it as a waste. I’d like to see the exhibition, too. Early Australian art fascinates me.”

It fascinated her, too, but she didn’t want to say so. Yet could she spend hours with him and survive the draw of his attraction? She swallowed. It looked as though she wasn’t getting a choice. But after she put in an appearance for their client, she’d make sure it was the quickest walk around the gallery on record.

An hour later she and Brant strolled through the art gallery by themselves after they’d shared an afternoon tea of pineapple scones, finger sandwiches and a delicious tropical fruit platter. Brant had been his charming self with their client and the others. A couple of times she’d even let her guard down and surprised herself by actually laughing at some of his witty remarks.

Of course, being witty and a womanizer was what he was about. That’s how men like him got women into bed, and if the looks some of the other women were giving him were anything to go by, he’d have had plenty of offers today if she hadn’t been around. Yes, he knew exactly how to charm the panties right off a woman. She stiffened. Not this woman.

“I like this painting of the early settlers,” he said now, his deep voice bringing her out of her thoughts. “I saw a print of it years ago, but the brushstrokes and paint textures are nothing compared to the original.” He turned to look at her. “It’s very evocative, don’t you agree?”

She fumbled for words when she saw the piece of work he was referring to. “Um … yes.”

He arched a brow. “You sound surprised?”

A thrill raced through her, but she managed to shrug as if it were no big deal. “It’s my favorite painting.”

“And you didn’t expect us to have the same tastes, right?” He paused, his blue eyes darkening. “I think we’d have a lot in common if we looked closely.”

She moistened suddenly dry lips. “Yes. Phillip, for one thing.”

He gave a slightly bitter smile. “Ah, Phillip. We’ll always have him in common, won’t we?” He turned back to the painting. “Tell me. Why is this your favorite?”

Obviously he wanted to keep things on an even keel, and she was only too happy to oblige. Yet she couldn’t help but feel a burst of excitement that he found the imagery of the painting as touching as she did. Perhaps there was more to him than met the eye.

She turned to the painting and let her gaze wander over the picture of their pioneer ancestors, losing herself in its sheer vibrancy and color. “I’d say it’s because it personifies the Outback spirit. That it’s possible to overcome any obstacle, no matter how big or daunting.”

“So you like challenges?” he pounced.

She drew in a shaky breath. Always the predator. He just couldn’t help himself. “Some challenges,” she admitted.

“I like certain challenges, too,” he drawled, his eyes intense. “If somebody tells me I can’t have something, then that’s when I want it.”

And he wanted her. He had no need to say it out loud. The wanting poured from him like a familiar scent.

She plastered a smile on her lips. “Then you’d better get used to disappointment,” she quipped, knowing her first instincts about him were correct. She hadn’t misjudged him. Not in the slightest.

A few hours later the two of them sat at an outdoor café not far from the exhibition, sipping at fruit daiquiris. The pre-Christmas festivities were still continuing, and people were out in force and in holiday mode, enjoying a stroll along the sail-shaded Smith Street Mall, listening to a busker play her guitar, watching a mime artist perform.

Brant couldn’t have cared less where they were or who was nearby. His concentration was solely and fully on one person. Kia looked as beautiful as always, with her blond hair pulled back in a French knot, and wearing a lemon-colored dress that displayed the elegant line of her neck and showed off her tanned shoulders and arms.

But something else about her today set his pulse spinning like a top. Watching her talk to the others at the gallery, he’d glimpsed an innocence in her lovely eyes that had been at odds with the knowing look in them, as if she couldn’t quite hide the sweet beneath the spice. Yet sweet was hardly a word he’d expect to use about Kia Benton.