Ruthless Seduction: Pleasured in the Billionaire's Bed / The Ruthless Marriage Proposal

‘You must be very wealthy.’

‘I’ve been lucky.’

‘I don’t believe that. People make their own luck. I’ll bet writing is hard work.’

‘It’s becoming more so with time. When I first left the army, the words seemed to just flow.’

‘Oh, so you were in the army. My mother said you must have been. She said you knew too much about weapons not to have handled them yourself. Once I thought about it, I agreed with her.’

‘I was in the army for twelve years. Joined when I was eighteen. Left when I was thirty. I’d had enough.’

‘How long ago was that?’

‘Six years. Do I look thirty-six?’ he asked, slanting her a quick smile. ‘Or older?’

She stared back at him for a few seconds. ‘Thirty-six looks about right,’ she said at last. ‘Though I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d been older. You do have years of experience in your eyes.’

Jack nodded. ‘Some days I feel a hundred. I saw lots of things I’d rather not have seen in the army, I can tell you.’

‘Hal is you, Jack, isn’t he?’ she suddenly said, her eyes still on him.

‘He’s only part me. I’m not a one-man instrument of justice and vengeance. I certainly don’t go round killing people.’

‘But you’d like to.’

Jack laughed. ‘How perceptive of you.’

‘Hal’s rather ruthless.’

‘He is,’ Jack agreed as he negotiated the first of a series of roundabouts which would lead them past the Tuggerah shopping centre where she’d been this morning, then onto the motorway to Sydney.

‘Do you think you’ll win the award tonight?’ Lisa asked him once they were on the motorway.

‘Probably.’

‘You don’t sound like you really care.’

‘The novelty of winning awards wears off pretty quickly.’

‘That sounded cynical.’

‘I am cynical. But awards sometimes translate into more money. And money I like. So does my agent.’

‘Do you have to have an agent to become successful as a writer?’

‘You do if you want to make it overseas. And especially if you want your books to be made into movies.’

‘Your books are going to be made into movies?’

No doubt, that surprised her.

‘They already have been. The first one premières in Los Angeles in April next year. I’ve been invited to attend as a special guest.’

‘Wow! That’s fabulous, Jack. Who’s playing the part of Hal?’

‘An unknown actor. The studio didn’t want a big name. They wanted the person who played the part to really become Hal in people’s minds. His name is Chad Furness. I hear he’s very good. And very handsome.’

‘Well, Hal’s very handsome, isn’t he? Oh, you must be so proud.’

Proud.

Jack thought about that word for a long moment.

Proud.

No. That wasn’t what he felt.

Satisfied, perhaps. But not proud.

‘It’s certainly made me a very rich man,’ came his considered reply. ‘I bought this car and my penthouse at Terrigal with some of the money Hollywood paid me. Plus I hired myself a cleaner from the top cleaning establishment on the coast,’ he added with a wry grin.

She laughed, the sound reassuring Jack. He would hate to think she felt tense in his company. And she had been, earlier on.

Suddenly, the thought of never seeing her again after this evening was unbearable.

‘I suppose I can’t talk you into cleaning my study this Monday, could I?’ he said, doing his best to sound very casual. ‘Gail’s ankle wouldn’t have recovered yet and my study’s crying out for a thorough cleaning.’

When she didn’t answer, he glanced over at her.

‘At the risk of being accused of trying to buy you, I’ll pay you double,’ he said. And a million dollars if you’ll sleep with me, came the added Hal-like thought.

Her head turned, her eyes betraying the most intriguing dilemma. She wanted to do as he asked. He could see it. But she was hesitant. Which meant what? She did like him, but was afraid of him for some reason? Clearly, she was still worried that he was going to pounce, sexually.

‘I…I can’t, Jack. I have other work to do on Monday.’

‘Tuesday, then.’ He had no intention of letting her off the hook that easily.

‘I’ll send someone else.’

‘No,’ he snapped. ‘I don’t want anyone else. I want you.’

Jack could have bitten his tongue out. He’d done it now. Showed his hand. He could feel her eyes on him. Feel her tension welling up again.

‘You’re the best cleaner I’ve ever had,’ he went on, hoping it wasn’t too late to salvage the situation. ‘You leave Gail for dead. It’s difficult to go back to second rate when you’ve experienced perfection.’

‘You’re being persuasive again,’ she said.

‘Is it my fault if you’re perfect?’

‘Don’t flatter me, Jack.’

‘The truth is not flattery.’

‘You have a way with words.’

‘You have a way with floors.’

Her laugh delighted him. And made him want to roar in relief.

‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll clean your study. Once. On Tuesday. But after that, you’re back to Gail.’

‘Oh, cruel woman.’

‘Stop it, Jack,’ she said, but smilingly.

After that she seemed much more relaxed, and they chatted away about all sorts of things. Music. Movies. Their families. Or lack of them. Lisa’s parents were divorced, and, like himself, she had no siblings. All their grandparents had passed away, too.

In a way, they were both loners. Both self-sufficient.

Occasionally, she brought the topic of conversation back to his writing. But Jack managed to steer her away from further discussion of his books, or his so-called hero.

Jack didn’t want to think about Hal too much tonight. Hal could sometimes be bad for him. He appealed to his dark side. It was difficult enough ignoring the sexual thoughts and feelings Lisa could so easily evoke without Hal getting into his head, tempting him with truly wicked ideas.

Would two million tempt her to sleep with him? Five? Ten?

Jack clenched his jaw-line, then concentrated on keeping their casual conversation going, forcing himself not to fall broodingly silent as he could do on occasion when his thoughts turned dark. Which they were on the verge of doing every time he glanced over at Lisa.

Damn, but he wanted her!

His body was rock-hard with desire, his resolve to have her threatening to turn more ruthless with each passing minute.

‘Not far to go now,’ he said with some relief as they approached the harbour bridge. Best get out of this confining car and into somewhere public.

The traffic was a bit heavy across the bridge, but moving along steadily. Jack knew where he was going, taking the correct lanes and exit to whiz them down to the harbourside restaurant where the awards dinner was being held. Thankfully the restaurant had a private car park, reserved for patrons, an attendant swiftly directing them to a spot just metres from the entrance.

‘I’d better warn you about Helene before you meet her,’ he said as he extracted his car keys.

‘Helene? Who’s Helene?’ Lisa asked.

‘My agent. She’s a darling woman underneath her tough-bird exterior. But she does have a big mouth. Puts her foot into it occasionally. She’s also going through a gypsy-cum-gothic stage in her wardrobe, which can be a bit startling. If she’d dressed me tonight I’d have been wearing black leather trousers, with a full-sleeved white silk shirt, topped off with a scarlet cummerbund. I’d have looked like a camp pirate from the Caribbean.’

Lisa laughed, her lovely blue eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘If there’s one thing you could never look, Jack, it’s camp. But I’m glad this Helene didn’t dress you tonight. What you’re wearing is superb. That suit must have cost a small fortune.’

‘It did. And I would think that little number you have on didn’t come cheap. I wish you’d let me pay for it, Lisa. You shouldn’t be out of pocket because you did me the favour of being my pretend girlfriend for the night.’

Chapter Nine

LISA found herself piqued by that word, pretend.

Yet she should have been reassured.

So why wasn’t she?

Female vanity, she supposed. Or was it something else, that faint hope she’d been harbouring that at last she was becoming a normal woman, sexually?

During the drive down, that startling incident with her nipples had stayed at the back of her mind, as had the heat which Jack had generated in her when he’d taken her arm. Despite finally relaxing in his company and enjoying their conversation very much, she’d begun secretly hoping that he would make a pass when he brought her home, just to see how she would react.

The word ‘pretend’ indicated that Jack wasn’t about to try anything. His insistence that she come and clean his study had not been a sign of personal interest. He just wanted his study cleaned. He didn’t fancy her one bit.

Lisa wished now she’d accepted his offer to pay her double.

Paying for her dress, however, was still out of the question.

‘Don’t start that again, Jack,’ she said with a cool glance his way.

The trouble with practised womanisers, she decided, was that women fell easily for their superficial charms.

When Jack came round to open the passenger door and reach his hand down towards her, Lisa smothered a groan of dismay.

There really was no option but to accept his help. Still, Lisa delayed as long as possible, swinging her feet out of the car first, her bag clutched tightly in her left hand. Finally, she put her clammy right hand into his outstretched palm, plastering a plastic smile on her face as she glanced up into his.

‘Thank you,’ she said with stiff politeness whilst her heart hammered away behind her ribs.

‘My pleasure,’ he returned, his fingers closing tightly around hers as he pulled her up onto her feet.

Lisa had a few seconds of respite when he dropped her hand and attended to locking up the car. But no sooner had she managed to calm her pulse rate a little than he slid his arm around her waist.

Naturally, she froze.

‘Don’t panic,’ he murmured. ‘Just window-dressing.’

Just window-dressing, Lisa thought almost bitterly as he propelled her towards the restaurant door. What an apt phrase to describe her! For years she’d acted like a mannequin, designed and dressed to look attractive, but not a flesh and blood woman.

No wonder Jack didn’t fancy her.

‘Jack! Jack!’

The owner of the voice came rushing over to them, a tall, skinny, black-haired woman dressed in the weirdest black clothes. There were lots of layers and beads, and her make-up was extremely pale and heavy, except for her bright red lipstick. Once closer, Lisa could see she was at least in her fifties.

‘Helene,’ Jack muttered under his breath. ‘Have patience.’

‘So!’ The agent’s beady black eyes glittered as she looked Lisa up and down. ‘I knew you wouldn’t come alone. Not Jack Cassidy.’

‘I decided it wasn’t wise to go into the lion’s den without a shield by my side,’ he said drily.

Helene cackled. ‘It’s a bit like that with you at these dos, isn’t it? You’re a brave woman, love,’ she directed at Lisa. ‘Our Jack here gets swamped by fans wanting his autograph. And a lot more of him if they can get it,’ she added with a wicked wink.

‘I can imagine,’ Lisa replied somewhat ruefully.

Helene laughed. ‘Jack, do introduce me to this delightful creature.’

‘This delightful creature is Lisa, Helene. Lisa, this is Helene, my brilliant agent.’

‘Heavens to Betsy! A compliment as well as a classy girlfriend! My cup runneth over! Hello, my love,’ she directed at Lisa. ‘You’re going to wow them in the States. You are taking her with you next year, Jack. Don’t tell me you’re not or I’ll have a pink fit right here and now.’

‘I’d love to take her with me,’ Jack said, pulling Lisa even closer to his side. ‘But Lisa has a company to run and a son to raise. I don’t think she can get away for a trip to the States, can you, darling?’

Lisa knew it was just pretend. Just window-dressing. Especially the darling bit.

But from the moment Jack’s side pressed hard against hers, everything inside her began to go to mush.

‘I’ll have to see,’ she heard herself say whilst she struggled to stop the amazing meltdown which was currently threatening her entire body.

‘Make her go with you, Jack,’ Helene insisted.

‘I’m afraid I can’t make Lisa do anything she doesn’t want to do,’ he said with a wry laugh. ‘She’s very strong-willed.’

Lisa almost laughed as well. Rather hysterically.

‘Do what Hal did in your second book, Jack,’ Helene advised. ‘Kidnap the girl and keep her your prisoner till she says yes to everything you want.’

‘I just might do that. But first, shall we go inside? Helene, look after Lisa for me for a couple of minutes, will you?’

‘Will do,’ the agent replied. ‘Come along, lovely Lisa. We’ll go in and find our table. I did ask for one of the smaller ones, knowing Jack’s distaste for making idle conversation with people he cares nothing for. Hopefully, we’re not stuck in some ghastly corner.’

They weren’t stuck in some ghastly corner. There were no real corners, the main body of the restaurant being semicircular, with huge windows overlooking the harbour. They had, probably, the best table in the house, very close to a window, with a great view of the bridge and the opera house. The table itself was round, covered in a crisp white tablecloth with matching serviettes, extremely expensive crystal glasses and a most spectacular, candlelit centre-piece. The carpet under-foot was a deep blue, and the overhead lighting very subdued.

‘Golly,’ Lisa said in impressed tones after the maître d’ had departed. ‘This is a fabulous place.’

‘It’s OK. At least they took notice of what I asked for. Jack’s going to be pleased that it’s only us.’

‘But the table is set for four,’ Lisa pointed out.

Helene grinned. ‘I told them I had a partner.’

‘And you don’t?’

‘Lord, no! Who’d have me? I’m a selfish, opinionated, ambitious bitch. On top of that, I’m skinny and downright ugly. Always have been.’

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