Ally Blake - Untamed Billionaires - Marriage - For Business or Pleasure? / Getting Red-Hot with the Rogue / One Night with the Rebel Billionaire

‘Because I visited him yesterday.’ She raised stricken eyes to his and it took every ounce of will power not to reach out, bundle her into his arms and comfort her. ‘He hasn’t changed a bit.’

He swallowed the bitterness that rose at the thought of Darby Lloyd and his far-reaching tentacles poisoning everything and everyone around him, including this remarkably special woman.

He hadn’t blamed her for running away. He’d wondered what took her so long.

Unable to resist, he reached out and took hold of her hand, surprised and more than a little grateful when she let him. ‘Want to know what I think?’

She nodded, her eyes wide with pain.

‘You’ve moved on. From what you’ve told me, you’re a successful businesswoman with one hell of a career so don’t let the past suck you back in.’

He squeezed her hand, trailed his thumb across the back of it. ‘It’s not worth it.’

Brittany couldn’t meet his gaze; it was far too kind. Far too full of memories.

‘Thanks,’ she muttered, and made an angry swipe at her eyes, dashing away the tears pooled there. She’d done nothing but make a fool of herself since she’d arrived in Jacaranda: making assumptions about Nick, letting him kiss her, hoping her father had changed. She didn’t need to start blubbering like a two-year-old to top it off.

Teasing Nick she could handle. Compassionate Nick, holding her hand and staring at her with unquestionable warmth in his eyes, had the potential to undo her completely.

‘Hey, don’t cry.’

He leaned over and brushed away the tears that had spilled over and run down her cheeks.

Great. Just her luck she hadn’t worn waterproof mascara today.

‘Jet lag catching up with me,’ she muttered, blinking rapidly only to find a veritable flood seeping out of her eyes.

‘Come here, you.’

Before she could protest, Nick hauled her into his arms and cradled her close, smoothing her hair, making small crooning noises. Being enveloped in his strong arms, her face pressed against hard chest wall, surrounded by his familiar scent of sugar and spice and all things nice, should’ve soothed her.

It didn’t. Being held by Nick dammed her tears but it resurrected a host of feelings that had nothing to do with comfort.

Desire seeped through her body as he continued stroking her hair, rendering her powerless to move. She couldn’t have pulled away if she wanted to. And, God help her, she didn’t want to.

She inhaled deeply, allowing the heady combination of sugar-cane sweetness, metal polish and tropical sunshine to flood her lungs, enjoying the momentary lapse in reason as she wished he could hold her like this for ever.

Sliding her arms around his waist, she allowed her hands the luxury of smoothing across hard muscle, revelling in the heat radiating through his cotton T-shirt.

Closing her eyes, she sighed, knowing there was no place in the world she’d rather be than right here.

London was her life now, the vibrant city a part of her new persona but even with her career shooting into the stratosphere, at times like this, in the warm embrace of an incredible man, it wasn’t enough.

She’d tried to forget Nick, had rarely succeeded: wondering what he was doing, who he was doing it with, where they would be if he’d said yes to her all those years ago.

‘You okay now?’

He pulled back with such swiftness she almost fell off her chair.

‘Yeah, thanks.’

She scanned his face for an indication of what he was thinking, but true to form the Mancini mask had slipped into place, leaving her wondering what was going on behind those enigmatic dark eyes. She’d seen it their last night together ten years ago, the night he’d broken her heart.

‘We have other business to discuss.’

Her heart sank.

For those all too brief moments when he’d held her, she’d forgotten the reason she’d requested this meeting. But the thought of her father, as poisonous as a puffer fish, leaped to mind and she knew she had to do this.

It was the only way.

She needed this promotion now more than ever, needed the money to clear a debt she’d never known existed and the sooner that was done, the better. Then she’d finally be free.

‘You’re right, we do need to talk.’

She twisted a strand of hair around her finger, a habit she’d long conquered, before belatedly releasing it. What was it about this guy that obliterated the last ten years as if they’d never happened and thrust her back to a time she’d rather forget?

‘I have an answer to your proposal.’

‘And?’

He propped against the bike, looking every bit the bad boy rebel he’d once been: dark, devastating, delicious.

She swallowed, her throat clenching with how much she still wanted him after all this time.

He might’ve proposed a marriage for business purposes but deep down she knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d be able to keep her hands off him. And considering he’d kissed her, twice, she had an inkling the feeling was mutual.

So where did that leave them? What would the boundaries of their marriage be? Monogamous? Casual?

He straightened, stepped closer to her.

‘Stop over-analysing this. Give me your answer and we’ll go from there.’

With her heart pounding and heat from his proximity prickling her skin, she wrenched her gaze from his chest within tantalising touching distance and slowly raised it until wavering blue locked with questioning brown.

Her voice barely above a whisper, she nodded.

‘My answer is yes.’

NICK snuck in the side entrance of the conference room, not wanting to intrude but driven by curiosity.

Since Britt had agreed to his proposal, she’d morphed into a businesswoman dervish, throwing herself into work at a speed that made him, a confirmed workaholic, seem like a snail.

She’d commandeered the business centre of the hotel, had turned this room into a hive of activity.

In less than a day.

He shook his head, beyond impressed at her work ethic. He’d never seen her like this: focused, determined, driven, issuing orders and delegating to the team she’d assembled in record time.

Watching her in a power suit the colour of ripe plums, her hair twisted in a fancy topknot and her brow creased in concentration while she tapped on a keyboard with one hand and shuffled documents with the other, he understood why she’d said yes to his proposal.

Her job meant everything to her and, while he empathised with her ambition, he couldn’t help but wish some of her agreement stemmed from the sexual tension strumming between them.

A surge of heat at the memory of kissing her had him sliding a finger between his neck and suddenly too tight collar.

Their marriage might be motivated by business, but who said they couldn’t have a real honeymoon?

Her head snapped up and their gazes locked, as if he’d inadvertently telepathised his thoughts and he grinned, sent her a half-salute, not surprised when she frowned and gestured towards the stack of paperwork in front of her.

She didn’t want him here.

His cue to saunter across the room and drop into the vacant chair next to her.

‘How’s it going?’

Frowning, she barely glanced at him. ‘Busy.’

‘So I see.’

‘Don’t you have work of your own to do?’

Leaning back, he linked his fingers and stretched. ‘I’m taking a break.’

He smothered an outright laugh as she glared. ‘Anything I can do to help?’

‘No, all under control.’

Her laptop screen flickered and she swore, making a mockery of her previous statement.

‘I’ve got the latest technology in my office if you need it.’