Australian Millionaires: The Millionaire's Seductive Revenge

“I trust Phillip,” she said, slightly puzzled by his question. It wasn’t as though Phillip would be out nightclubbing every night. Now if it was Brant who was her fiancé …

“But do you trust Lynette Kelly?” he purred.

Shock ran through her. Had he guessed that Lynette still had feelings for Phillip? Did he know things hadn’t really been settled between them?

“Lynette and Phillip are no longer an item,” she said coolly, and before he could say anything further she handed him a piece of paper. “I believe this belongs to you, Mr. Matthews.”

His face hardened. “Kia, I swear if you call me Mr. Matthews one more time …” He trailed off as he opened the slip of paper. His head shot up. “What’s this?”

“A check for my security alarm.” She’d rung the man who’d come to her home only to find out the bill had already been paid.

Cynicism entered his eyes. “Forget it. You paid for it by coming to the art exhibition, remember?”

Yes, so why did she deserve that mocking look in his eyes? “I’m sorry, I don’t see it that way. Not even as Phillip’s fiancée.”

“My offer was non-negotiable.” He ripped it in two.

She got to her feet and walked to a cabinet too close to Brant to get her purse. “Fine. I’ll write another one and give it to Phillip.”

“No need for drama, Kia. Let it go.”

“Mr. Matthews, if you think you can do what you like—”

He captured her arm with his warm hand, sending a slew of shivers racing over her spine. “Listen, if I did what I’d really like—”

“Is everything all right in here?”

Kia drew a ragged breath before she looked up to see Phillip had wheeled to the office door and was looking at them in concern. She stepped sideways and Brant dropped his hand.

Somehow she planted a stiff smile on her lips. “Yes, everything’s fine. I was just reminding Mr. Matthews that you’re going to Queensland tomorrow.”

“The name’s Brant,” Brant snapped and stormed out of the office.

Phillip raised his brows as he looked at Kia. “Sure you don’t want to come with me tomorrow? It might be safer.”

Kia shook her head. There was no place on earth safe for her. Not another state. Not another country. No, she’d just have to polish her armor and pray that Brant had better things to do on Christmas Eve than harass her.

And if she believed that, then maybe Santa Claus really did exist.

Five

Kia saw Phillip off at Darwin airport the next morning, then returned to the office to finish up some work before doing some last-minute Christmas shopping. She found Brant in Phillip’s office, riffling through some papers on his desk.

He looked up when she appeared in the doorway, and his eyes darkened when he saw her. “You’re back,” he said as if she’d returned just for him.

And suddenly she knew she had. Despite all the attraction she didn’t want to feel for this man, she still felt it. Her armor was paper-thin at best.

“Yes,” she murmured, willing him to come to her. To pull her into his arms. To make love to her. Long moments crept by, and she saw the struggle on his face to resist doing that very thing.

He cleared his throat. “Phil’s plane get off okay?”

Phillip. Her so-called fiancé wasn’t gone half an hour and she was ready to fall into bed with Brant. Dear God, why did this man have such a hold over her? She hated it. She would fight against it … with every fiber of her being.

Her gaze dropped to the paperwork in his hands. “Can I help you?” she asked, injecting cool disapproval in her tone.

His face closed up. “I was looking for the Robertson file.” He went back to searching through the papers. “Phil was supposed to do some work on it.”

“He did. I just have to finish typing some notes, then you can have it. Give me an hour and I’ll get it to you.”

“Fine.” He strode around the desk and came toward her, all business now. “I’ll be in my office.”

She stepped back and moved to her desk before he could come anywhere near her. He sent her a mocking smile as he passed by. Well, he could mock, she told herself as she sat down and opened up the file. It wouldn’t get her into his bed any faster.

Or at all.

An hour later she hurried down the hallway to his office, determined to leave the paperwork with his PA, only Evelyn was nowhere to be seen. He must have heard her in the outer office, because a few seconds later he called out to bring it in to him.

She swallowed hard, not wanting to go into his inner sanctum when no one else seemed to be around.

“Kia?”

She straightened her shoulders and walked forward. For all its luxury, she may as well have been walking into a prison cell.

“How did you know it was me?” she said.

He gave her a look that told her he always knew when she was around. “Bring it over here,” he said, putting down his pen and leaning back in his chair as if she were about to put on a show and he didn’t want to miss a second of it.

She hesitated. Her legs felt like jelly. Then she moved forward, and just as she’d known it would, his gaze slid over her blue tailored skirt and white silky blouse. She could see him mentally stripping the clothes from her body, piece by piece.

She was wishing that she hadn’t discarded her jacket before coming in here. At least then she wouldn’t have the urge to cover up the tight feeling in her nipples, and her arms wouldn’t be goose-bumping in reaction.

She put the correspondence on his desk. The hint of sandalwood aftershave filled the air and stirred her senses. “I’ll be leaving now. I want to finish some Christmas shopping this afternoon.”

“When are you off to Adelaide?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“You’ll miss Phil, no doubt?” It was a question, not a statement. Those eyes watched her like a cat stalking a mouse, waiting for her to make one wrong move. Well, she didn’t much like cheese.

She pasted on a smile. “Naturally, but I’ll be kept pretty busy. My mother loves to put on a bash at Christmas,” she chatted on nervously, until all at once she saw a hint of bleakness in his eyes that clutched at her heart. She spoke before she could stop herself. “What about you, Brant? Any plans for Christmas?”

“So you remembered my name, eh?” Then he straightened in his chair. “A friend has invited me around for Christmas dinner, but I’m not sure I’ll go yet. I’ve got too much work.”

“What about your brother?” she said, curious to see his reaction again.

“What about him?” he snapped, his eyes turning colder than winter.

She swallowed. “I just thought—”