Jacqueline Baird - Mediterranean Tycoons

Involuntarily her jaw dropped. At the same time his hand fell from her arm and Eloise tilted her head to stare at him like a stranded trout, her mouth working and no sound coming out. Feeling the edge of a chair at the back of her knees, she collapsed down on the seat, and cast a panicked glance around the room. She was still in the nightclub, but she felt like Alice in Wonderland falling down the rabbit hole.

Come to think of it, the whole evening had been a bit like the Mad Hatter’s tea party. And Marcus could certainly double as the Knave of Hearts, accusing her of sleeping with Ted Charlton, while he cut a swathe through women, she thought bitterly. She regarded him with wide angry eyes. And stole from him? As far she knew, he’d only been in business with them one day. Was he mad, or what?

‘You’re crazy,’ she declared, finally finding her voice. ‘You’ve completely lost your marbles.’

‘No.’ Marcus looked at her with cold contempt that made her skin crawl. ‘I have the proof, Eloise. This time, you’re not escaping the consequences of your actions. I’m going to make sure you don’t.’

He was towering over like some great avenging angel—or devil was more apt, she corrected in her head. ‘I have never stolen anything in my life. I have no idea what you are talking about,’ she said, conviction in every syllable. ‘I really don’t.’

‘Liar.’ Marcus’s cold eyes raked her with derision. ‘You fell into my bed the last time we met, all wild and willing, simply to soften me up—and I nearly fell for it.’

She flinched as though she’d been struck. If only he knew the courage, the great leap of faith in his integrity it had taken for her to make love with him. If he’d continued their relationship, she might have confided in him by now, but she wasn’t about to reveal her innermost fears to a man who had used her as a one-night stand.

And yet she could not explain to herself why it should hurt so much when Marcus looked at her with derision. She owed the man nothing.

Eloise opened her mouth, about to tell him so, but fear closed her throat as she recalled his other threat to have her back in his bed. Disgusted with herself, not Marcus, because for one heart-stopping moment she was tempted.

She had to get out of here! Picking up her purse, she tried to stand, but his hand on her shoulder forced her back down.

‘Sit,’ he ordered.

Eloise couldn’t think straight, paralysed by shock as he pulled up a chair and sat beside her at the table, angling his seat so he could watch her every move. She felt sick inside, as with dawning horror she realised he actually believed what he was saying.

‘You do well to remain silent.’ Contemptuous amusement glittered in his dark eyes as he noted her bewilderment, the scarlet colour in her cheeks. ‘Under that aura of innocence you wear so well beats the heart of a con-artist. A very talented, beautiful woman, but a thief nevertheless. I know what you are…’ His glittering gaze rested on her with a blatant sexual intensity. ‘And yet I want to possess that body, and until such time as I consider you have paid the debt you and your mother owe my family, you will stay with me.’

He had as good as called her a whore, but that paled into insignificance at the mention of her mother. A growing sense of dread seeped into Eloise’s mind. ‘What has my mother got to do with this?’ she asked shakily.

‘Oh, please!’ Marcus mocked her supposed ignorance, but when she still stared at him with wary eyes, he gestured with his palms up. ‘Okay, Eloise have it your way,’ and he clarified with impatience, ‘Chloe rented one of my uncle’s villas, seduced the man, and then persuaded Theo to give her half a million to invest in her jewellery business—with your collusion, Eloise—and the pair of you vanished as soon as the cheque cleared.’

Appalled at the scenario Marcus presented, Eloise felt tension tighten her every muscle. Because, deep down, she had a horrible feeling there might be some truth in his words. Her mother had been close to Theo Toumbis when they’d stayed on Rykos. They’d departed in a hurry. Maybe Chloe had borrowed money from the man. Eloise had not known her mother well enough to say yes or no. But her mother was dead, and in deference to her memory at least deserved her support, Eloise staunchly reminded herself.

‘You expect me to agree to be your, your mi—mistress.’ She stammered over the word. ‘Until I pay off some mythical debt I am supposed to owe you.’ Eloise tried for a laugh. ‘Dream on, Buster.’ Pushing back her chair, she stood up again.

A chilling smile formed on his lips as he also rose to his feet ‘Think about it. You agree to my terms, or I pull out of the deal with your firm.’ His black eyes, gleaming with an unholy light of triumph, captured hers. ‘Tonight’s celebration, Eloise, will be looked on as a wake. Without the capital to maintain the Paris branch, you will have to close with a mountain of new debt, and within a very short space of time your London base will go bankrupt. I will make sure of it.’

‘You can’t do that!’ Eloise gasped, amazed at the change in the man from sophisticated charmer into a ruthless, remote figure. She saw the implacable determination in his hard gaze, and she shook with fear and outrage. Rage won…

Well, he was not getting away with it. How dared he threaten her like this? Who the hell did he think he was? ‘I won’t let you,’ she snapped.

‘You can’t stop me,’ Marcus said without a flicker of emotion. ‘Speak to Harry—he will confirm what I say. I’ll give you until tomorrow to decide. But think of the effect on Katy and Harry and their baby, their livelihood, before you make up your mind.’ Dropping a bundle of notes on the table, he took her arm and urged her forward. ‘This is too public.’ His dark impervious gaze swept the room. ‘Come on, I’ll get you a cab,’ he added smoothly, viewing her with dark threatening eyes.

‘I don’t need to think,’ she spat, her fury rising to eclipse her earlier fear completely. ‘The answer is no—and, as for Kate and Harry, they are my friends. They’ll stand by me and ignore your ridiculous accusations.’ Eloise took half a dozen enraged steps at his side without realising, then stopped suddenly, yanking her arm free.

‘And I’ll get my own cab,’ she hissed. ‘I want nothing from you, and this so-called business partnership will be dissolved tomorrow. I don’t know how you talked Ted and Harry into it, but we are getting out.’ She stepped out into the foyer.

‘As you please.’ Marcus’s voice followed her, low and lethal. ‘Then I will see you in court.’

The heated colour drained from her face. She stilled. The exit to the street and freedom was barely a step away, but for Eloise it might as well have been a million miles. Once she had given evidence in a court case, and it had been the worst experience of her life. No way could she face doing it again. Taking deep steadying breaths, she fought down the panic that threatened to choke her, and slowly turned to face Marcus. ‘Court? What do you mean by court?’ she demanded starkly.

‘Unless we come to a private agreement, I shall of course present the evidence of your deception to a court of law.’ A shrug of his broad shoulders, and Marcus’s mouth curled in a cynical smile, apparently registering a supreme masculine indifference either way that made her blood run cold. ‘The decision is yours, but you no longer have until tomorrow. I want your answer tonight.’

Eloise swallowed hard, smoothed the fine fabric of her dress down over her hips with damp palms, and wondered what had happened to the Marcus she had first met. The Marcus who had valued her innocence, and then later the lover who had made her initiation into womanhood a magical experience. Was she really such a dim-wit that, for a few short hours, a few kind words and sweet caresses, she forgot what life had taught her? Men could be swine, and worse…