Home > The Tycoon's Blackmailed Mistress(10)

The Tycoon's Blackmailed Mistress(10)
Author: Maxine Sullivan

“Monica,” he said, inclining his head in greeting.

“It’s Mrs. Ford to you, Mr. Donovan,” she spat.

He paused for effect. “I see.”

“Do you?”

She was obviously spoiling for a fight.

“Why are you here?”

She glared at him. “I want you to stay away from Danielle. Or you’ll be sorry.”

He felt his anger rise in response. “I don’t take kindly to threats.”

“Danielle and the baby belong to Robert. I won’t let you have either of them.”

Sudden apprehension rolled over in his chest. “Is this some kind of joke?”

She pulled herself up straighter. “My son is no joke. Danielle loves him and he loves her.”

He mentally took a step back. “Your son is dead,” he pointed out, trying to judge if this woman was as mad as she made out to be.

“How dare you say that!”

He scowled. Whether she was mad or not, she was definitely mentally unbalanced. “Listen, I think you need help.”

She wagged a finger at him and hissed, “You just stay out of the picture. That’s all the help we want.”

We?

Giving him a hateful look, she said, “Whatever you think you’re going to get from Danielle won’t happen. I won’t let it.” Then she spun on her heels and hurried toward a car parked down the road.

Flynn waited until she’d driven off, a horrible feeling in his gut. She was definitely sick in the head, exactly how sick was the question. But he knew one thing. He preferred her coldness yesterday over the hate today.

He still felt uneasy on the way over to Danielle’s place, but more for her sake than his own. He could handle the likes of Monica, but the woman was unstable and he wasn’t sure Danielle knew that. He vowed to keep an eye on things though he suspected Monica wouldn’t hurt Danielle and the baby. If anything, it was him Monica would want to hurt.

When Danielle opened her front door, he pushed all that to the back of his mind.

Adrenaline surged through him at the sight of her. He hadn’t seen her since last evening…since she’d come apart in his hands.

She was as sexy as hell. Her coral halter-necked top doing marvelous things for her skin tone and denim shorts showing off those gorgeous legs of hers, down to her bare feet.

She lifted her chin in the air. “Flynn, we need to talk,” she said, not inviting him in, obviously ready to do battle. “I don’t want you getting the wrong idea about last night. About it leading anywhere or anything. I mean…” All at once she faltered a little in her speech. “We’re both adults and things got out of hand, that’s all.”

“In more ways than one,” he drawled, her reluctance to have anything to do with him stirring his senses and urging him to take her in his arms and force her to change her mind.

“Last night was a mistake. I’m not ready for an affair. I’m having a baby.”

His mouth flattened into a straight line as her words hit home. He may not be able to argue with the truth, but one thing was for certain. If she hadn’t been pregnant, she’d be in his bed right now and they wouldn’t be merely talking about making love. He’d be inside her warm body, knowing this woman intimately.

Just thinking about it aroused him more than he’d ever been before. And it had nothing to do with being celibate for a couple of months now. It was all to do with Danielle.

His jaw clenched. “Did you phone the landlord about getting your lock fixed?”

She blinked, took a moment to note the change of subject, then gave a nod. “Someone will be here Monday.”

Pleasure coursed through him that she had followed his instructions, in this at least. “Make sure you close your door properly until then,” he said, partly thinking of Monica.

Danielle held herself stiffly, a rush of heat coming into her cheeks. “Why are you here, Flynn?”

He had to think past how gorgeous she looked with that soft color tingeing her high cheekbones. “I didn’t get to say happy birthday to you last night.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, then mellowed with something that hinted at gratitude. But in the blink of an eye, they suddenly hardened. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.”

“You could have sent flowers.”

“But then,” he drawled, “I wouldn’t have had the chance to blackmail you into having dinner with me tonight.”

Her hand slipped from the doorknob. “Wh-what?”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.” He started to walk away.

“Wait!”

Something in her tone made him stop and turn back to face her. A vulnerable look in her eyes made his chest tighten.

“Flynn, I—” she hesitated “—I don’t think we should.”

An unusual feeling of tenderness rose up inside him but he firmly squashed it. “Danielle, you owe me.”

Her chin angled higher. “I’ve told you. I’m paying back the money for the loan and the car.”

“I’m talking about the lock.”

She looked confused. “But you didn’t fix it.”

“No, but I came close,” he said, pleased at the double entendre.

Her cheeks reddened. “I know you’ve been more than generous but I think I’ll stay home tonight.”

“Alone?” he said sharply as jealousy slithered through him. And that was happening far too often for his liking. No other woman had ever made him feel that particular emotion before. He wasn’t going to let it get a stranglehold now.

“Yes.”

“Seven,” he ordered, turning toward the elevator so she couldn’t see his intense relief. “Be ready.”

He didn’t wait for her to answer. As if on cue, the doors opened for him and he stepped inside.

Danielle then spent the day warring between feeling angry with Flynn for his “Me Tarzan, you Jane” attitude, but suspecting he had a kind heart beneath all that arrogance. Certainly Robert had only ever taken her out to dinner once on her birthday and that had been when they were courting. After their marriage, he and Monica had mostly preferred to dine at home on special occasions.

It was this very reminder of the past that made Danielle change her mind about going out with Flynn tonight. She was a free woman and she would do as she liked and go out with whomever she liked. Just because it happened to be Flynn Donovan…

When her doorbell rang at seven, she nervously patted some wisps of blond hair back into her chignon, then smoothed the front of her short black dress. The soft silky material was complemented by a loose-fitting jacket of the same material.

She swung open the door and her breath caught in her throat. Flynn looked incredibly handsome in a black suit that emphasized the width of his shoulders and the length of his legs. A white shirt beneath his jacket only added to his compelling sense of presence.

“You are more beautiful each time I see you,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky, a light at the back of his eyes hinting that just looking at her switched on something inside him.

She wished she could have stayed angry with him. It would have given her the impetus to ignore the admiration he made no effort to hide. Instead, she dissolved like bubbles in a bath.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then cleared her throat, finding her mental balance. “I didn’t know how fancy this restaurant is, so I wasn’t sure what to wear.”

“You’re perfect.”

Her heart skipped a beat but didn’t settle to a nice easy pace. “Um…I’ll get my purse.” She turned and walked over to the sofa, breathing easier as she put some distance between them. But when she turned back, Flynn had entered the apartment, closing the door behind him.

“This is for you,” he said, holding a small gift-wrapped box in his hands she hadn’t noticed before.

“It is?” Silly delight skipped along her spine before she brought herself back down to earth. He’d already helped her too much. Okay, so he was wealthy and could afford it, but taking her to dinner was more than enough.

“I’m sorry. I can’t accept another present from you, Flynn. I hardly know you,” she said, reminding him they were nothing to each other, when all was said and done.

“But you do know me, Danielle. I was the man who made you crumble in my hands yesterday.” He jerked his hand behind him. “By that very door.”

The breath hitched in her throat but she managed one word. “Flynn.”

“Remember?”

How could she forget the way he’d made her feel? How his touch had scorched her body. How he’d taken her to the heights, then released her into a tide of passion.

“Yes, I remember.” She wet her suddenly dry lips. “Nevertheless, I—”

“You haven’t even seen it yet,” he pointed out dryly, moving toward her.

“No, but—”

“It isn’t jewelry, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

They both knew that wasn’t really what bothered her. It was the attraction between them. The sensual tension that threatened to spiral out of control every time they were together.

He stopped right in front of her. She could smell his aftershave, a distinct scent of sandalwood and cedar that endorsed his masculinity and threatened to overwhelm her.

Feeling it would be churlish to refuse now, she shakily held out her evening purse. “Hold this please,” she said, accepting the small box from him. The quicker she got this over with the better. And, yes, she really was a little excited to be getting a present.

She ripped the paper slightly as she undid the package to reveal a bottle of an expensive perfume she’d wanted to buy herself for ages but hadn’t. This particular scent was way out of her price range these days, and when she could have afforded it—when she’d been married—she hadn’t wanted to wear it. Not for Robert.

“Oh, my.”

“You don’t like it?”

Her eyes shone. “Of course I do. I love it.”

“ Allure,” he murmured. “I think the name’s appropriate, don’t you?”

A quiver surged through her veins. “Thank you,” she said, deciding to ignore the remark. “It’s just what I wanted.” About to place the box down on the sofa, she froze as he reached out and touched her arm. Without warning, a billow of awareness fell over the room.

“And this is what I want,” he drawled, putting his hand under her chin, tilting her mouth up to him.

It happened so suddenly she didn’t have time to react the way she knew she should. Instead, she trembled as his head lowered toward her. Trembled, but her lips parted even before their mouths touched.

It was a stunning kiss, one that swept her straight back to yesterday, to being in his arms, him doing delicious things to her, doing them with just his mouth this time, nothing else. Nothing but his tongue sliding over hers, his velvet touch so very sensitive against her own. So sensitive that her senses reeled.

She moaned but he continued to caress the moist cavern of her mouth, gentle yet demanding, coaxing her toward abandonment, toward the sensual heaven he offered.

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