Defying The Billionaire's Command

‘Those things people used to read in print form, but now mostly download online.’

‘I believe they still print books, Mr James,’ she said, a glimmer of anger burning low in her stomach. ‘But, yes, I like to read.’

‘I’m being facetious, Red.’ He smiled easily. ‘I prefer non-fiction to fiction. You?’

Carly would prefer to be anywhere but having to look into his handsome face. ‘Both are good,’ she said warily, wondering where he was going with this.

‘Personally I’m too straightforward for fiction. I don’t like things that are made-up.’

‘Well, it depends on the author’s imagination,’ Carly said, pushing a strand of hair that had come loose from her bun back behind her ear.

‘Do you have a good one?’ He ran the tip of his index finger along the long stem of his wineglass.

‘Miss Evans?’

Carly blinked. ‘Book?’

‘Imagination?’

‘I... I like to think so, but I’m not an author. I couldn’t wri—’

‘Helen Garner is an author I admire.’

‘Who?’

‘I wouldn’t expect you to know who she is. She’s Australian. Very literary. I lived in Australia for a while when I was young. Did you know that?’

‘No.’ Carly glanced at the door wishing the Baron would hurry up and return. ‘Look, Mr James—’

‘Call me Dare.’

Carly let out a breath. ‘This is all very fascinating but—’

‘My mother discovered Ms Garner’s work first, but then I happened to study her at university.’

‘University?’ Her voice sounded shaky and she cleared it.

‘Keep up, Red.’ His smile was so phony she wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a deck of tarot cards and started reading her fortune. ‘A university is an institution one attends when they’re looking to better themselves.’

‘I know what a university is, Mr James,’ she said from between her teeth. ‘I’m just struggling to follow the conversation.’

‘Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. You have other great qualities that are far more important, but you know that, don’t you?’ His eyes held hers. ‘Are you sure you won’t have another drink? Benson’s pulled out all stops with the wine.’

As she realised that he had only been amusing himself at her expense Carly’s slowly simmering anger just met its point of ignition. ‘I’m trying to be pleasant here,’ she bit out.

Dare rose from his seat, wine bottle in hand. ‘Believe me, Red, so am I.’

Like hell. She glared at him. ‘Call me that name again and you won’t like the consequences.’

Many children had tried while she’d been growing up and they’d got the wrong end of her temper every time.

‘Is that a threat?’ he mocked.

Carly took a deep breath and told herself not to let him get to her. Then she didn’t care. ‘I don’t like what you’ve been implying,’ she said, facing him squarely. ‘Why not come right to the point if you’re so straightforward?’

He rounded the table and prowled towards her. Carly had to fight every bone in her body not to get up and run.

‘You picked up on that, huh?’

‘On your veiled animosity?’ She gave him a superior smile of her own. ‘Even a small child would have found it hard to miss.’

‘But then children are so perceptive. Do you want children, Red?’

He reached out and brushed the loose strand of her hair back behind her ear. Carly gasped, twisting in her seat to look up at him. ‘You don’t care if I want children or not,’ she said, distracted by the way her skin tingled where his fingers had grazed it.

‘Not really,’ he agreed affably, leaning on the back of her chair. ‘But if they’re on your agenda you might want to consider Benson’s age. He won’t exactly be pitching a football with the youngster in the backyard. Not that the backyard isn’t big enough. You made sure of that first, didn’t you?’

Carly would speak but she wasn’t sure she could pry her teeth apart to get words out.

If she wasn’t mistaken this Neolithic fool had just accused her of being his grandfather’s mistress. She wasn’t sure what she thought was worse. The fact that he believed her to have been intimate with a man nearly three times her age, or that he thought her a gold-digger.

Incensed beyond all reason, Carly tried to shove her chair back but found she couldn’t because he had effectively caged her by bracing his arms on either side of her chair, his palms flat on the tabletop.

‘Temper, temper, Red.’ His warm breath feathered across her ear. ‘What will Benson think if he comes back and finds you all riled up?’

‘Hopefully he’ll kick you out!’ She knew she’d said the wrong thing by the way his muscles bunched in his arms. Her earlier analogy with that tree came to mind and she swallowed heavily. But instead of breaking her in half he leaned closer.

‘I wanted to kiss you today, Red.’ She jumped as something gently brushed the side of her face. His nose? ‘Out there on that hot, dusty road.’

Carly struggled to swallow. ‘No,’ she said automatically.

‘Oh, yes.’

Carly jerked sideways as he inhaled her scent but that only pressed her up against the solid mass of his opposite shoulder, giving him access to the line of her neck. He was so close she felt enveloped by his heady, male warmth. ‘And you wanted to kiss me too.’

‘No!’ she denied, pulling herself together. ‘You’re a bigger fool than I first thought if you believe that.’ She gave a short, sharp laugh to reinforce her words.

He sniffed behind her ear. ‘You smell sweet.’

Every part of Carly froze except her pulse, which was racing. Was he about to kiss her? If he was...if he was she would...stop breathing.

‘I’m right is what I am,’ he murmured. ‘I think you’d like me to do it even now with the old man in the next room. Should we give him a show?’

Before she could pick up the water jug and dump its contents over his insolent head the door to the dining room swung open. Dare slowly straightened, picked up the wine bottle, and poured her wine as if that were all he’d been doing all along.

Hot colour swept over Carly’s face and she forced a smile to her lips.

‘So sorry for the interruption,’ Benson said, resuming his seat. ‘That was Beckett.’