Who Wants To Marry a Millionaire?

‘I’m counting on it.’

Her pink-glossed lips compressed as she sized him up, starting at his Italian handmade shoes and sweeping upwards in an all-encompassing stare that made him edgy.

‘Shall we go somewhere and discuss—?’

‘Not possible.’

She rattled the chains at her wrist and the display gave an ominous wobble.

‘As you can see, I’m a bit tied up at the moment.’

He winced at her pitiful pun and she laughed.

‘Not my best, but a girl has to do what a girl has to do to get results.’

He pointed at the steel links binding her to his prized display.

‘And you think chaining yourself to my company’s latest project is going to achieve your objective?’

‘You’re here, aren’t you?’

What was this? Some kind of revenge?

He frowned, searching his memory banks. Was she someone he’d dated? A business associate? Someone he’d slighted in some way?

If she’d gone this far to get his attention, she wanted something. Something he’d never give, considering the way she’d gone about this.

He didn’t take kindly to threats or blackmail—or whatever this was.

Having some bold blonde wearing a dress that accentuated rather than hid her assets, her long legs bare and her toenails painted the same silver as her chains, bail him up like this … no way in hell would he cave to her demands.

She wanted to sell him prime land? Put in a tender for a job? Supply and interior decorate the luxury mansions on the Portsea project?

Stiff. She’d have to make an appointment like everyone else. This kind of stunt didn’t impress him. Not one bit.

She chose that moment to shift her weight from one leg to the other, rattling the chains binding her slim ankles, drawing his attention to those long bare legs again …

His perfectly male response annoyed him as much as the time he was wasting standing here.

‘You wanted to see me specifically?’

‘If you’re Rory Devlin, CEO of the company about to ruin the marine environment out near Portsea, then, yep, you’re the man.’

His heart sank. Since he’d taken over the reins at Devlin Corp six months ago he’d borne the brunt of every hippy lobbyist and environmentalist in town. None that looked quite as ravishing as the woman before him, but all of them demonstrating the same headstrong fanaticism.

Eco-nuts like her had almost derailed the company. Thankfully, he had a stronger backbone than his father, who’d dilly-dallied rather than making firm decisions on the Port Douglas project last year.

Devlin Corp had ensured the rainforest in far North Queensland would be protected, but that hadn’t stopped zealot protestors stalling construction, costing millions and almost bankrupting the company in the process.

If he hadn’t stepped in and played hardball he shuddered to think what would have happened to his family legacy.

‘You’ve been misinformed. My company takes great pains to ensure its developments blend with the environment, not ruin it.’

‘Please.’ She rolled her eyes before focussing them on him with a piercing clarity that would have intimidated a lesser man. ‘I’ve researched the land you develop—those flashy houses you dump in the middle of nowhere and sell for a small fortune.’

She strained against her chains as if she’d like to jab him in the chest, and his gaze momentarily strayed to hers before her exasperated snort drew his attention upwards.

‘Your developments slash trees and defile land and don’t give a rat’s about energy conservation—’

‘Stop right there.’

He crossed the room to stand a foot in front of her, feeling vindicated when she had to tilt her head back to look up at him, and annoyed when a tantalising fragrance of sunshine and fresh grass and spring mornings wrapped around him.

‘You’re misinformed as well as trespassing. Unlock yourself. Now.’

Tiny sapphire flecks sparked in her eyes before her lips curved upwards in an infuriatingly smug smile.

‘Can’t do that.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you haven’t agreed to my terms yet.’

He shook his head, pressing the pads of his fingers against his eyes. Unfortunately, when he opened them, she was still there.

‘We do this the easy way or the hard way. Easy way: you unlock yourself. Hard way: I call Security and they use bolt cutters to humiliate you further.’

Her eyes narrowed, not dimming in brilliance one iota.

‘Go ahead. Call them.’

Damn, she knew he was bluffing. No way would he draw attention to her and risk the shareholders getting curious.

‘Give me the key.’

He took a step closer, deriving some satisfaction from the way she inhaled sharply and wriggled backwards before he realised his mistake.

He’d wanted to intimidate her; he’d ended up being an inch away from her.

‘Make me.’

Her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip and he stared at it, shaken to the core by the insane urge to taste those lips for himself.

Hell.

He never backed down—ever. He’d taken on every challenge thrust upon him: changing schools in his mid-teens so he could be groomed to take over Devlin Corp one day, ousting his layabout father from the CEO role, stepping up when it counted and dragging an ailing company out of the red and into the black.

She wanted him to capitulate to her demands?