Married for the Tycoon's Empire

‘No reason,’ came the swift response, and then the other man said, ‘Later, Carter,’ and hung up.

Ben shook his head and put his phone down, glancing at the shut door again and scowling. He had no idea what was going on between Xander Trakas and the Leviathan Solutions director, but if it was anything close to what he was currently engaged in, then he wished the man luck. From what he’d seen of Elizabeth Young, and her quiet but steely self-possession, he’d need it.

* * *

‘Let me show you around.’

Lia looked suspiciously at Benjamin Carter, who had no right to look so fresh and gorgeous after sleeping in his seat on the plane. He’d changed out of his tuxedo into dark trousers and a black short-sleeved polo shirt, and she was acutely aware of the bunching of his biceps where his arms were folded. He was even more powerful than she’d thought.

Stalling for time, to let her disorientated brain catch up with events, she said, ‘Where exactly are we?’

They’d landed at Salvador International Airport in Bahia, Brazil, about an hour before, and to find out how far they’d come had blown her mind. Then Carter had collected an open-top Jeep and driven them out of the city and along the coast for about thirty minutes. Lia didn’t like to admit that she’d been captivated by the Atlantic sea frothing against miles and miles of pristine beaches.

‘We’re at my private villa, north of Salvador.’

His blue gaze dropped momentarily down her body and Lia regretted not changing when she’d had the chance on the plane. But after pacing in the spacious bedroom for long minutes she’d given in to fatigue and had lain down on the bed, still in the dress. Then, when a peremptory knock on the door had woken her, and a too-familiar deep voice had told her they’d be landing soon, something petty in her had refused to make him feel more comfortable about what he’d done, so she’d emerged still wearing the dress.

But now she felt silly. And self-conscious. It made her say defiantly, ‘What’s to stop me from taking that Jeep and driving back down to Salvador to take the next flight home?’

Her host didn’t look remotely perturbed. ‘Well, I’d have to report it as stolen, and the policia here are very efficient. So there’s really no point.’

The same sense of futility she’d felt in New York sank into Lia’s bones as she had to come to terms with the truth smacking her in the face—she was here for the weekend.

As if reading her mind, her host unfolded his arms and held a hand out, gesturing eloquently for her to take his invitation to look around.

Capitulation wasn’t easy, but after a few seconds of inner struggle she bent down to slip off her shoes—which were now officially killing her. When she straightened, holding the shoes in her hand, she said tightly, ‘As it appears that I have no choice, lead the way.’

Ignoring the fact that she felt a lot more fragile without the added height of her shoes, she followed him deeper into the villa and tried to avert her gaze from that broad back, tapering down to lean hips and tight buttocks.

It was almost

a relief to focus on the furnishings, and with some surprise she took in polished wooden floors and open white shutters allowing the warm breeze to circulate. The rooms flowed into each other, the spaces generous and open.

It was casual, yet elegant without being ostentatious. She noted valuable works of art dotted around the rooms and on the walls. Everything complemented each other. The décor was very much to her own pared-down tastes, which was something she had not expected.

A spacious den was comfortable and inviting, with low coffee tables and a media centre. Huge art and photography books looked well-thumbed, and one wall was shelved and full of books. Her hands itched to explore what was there.

‘Your interior designer is very talented,’ Lia remarked.

A dry-sounding, ‘Thank you,’ made her look at Carter, who had a small smile playing around his mouth. She saw the glint in his eye and then said disbelievingly, ‘No... You designed this?’

‘It’s amazing the amount of taste money can buy.’

His tone was even drier now, and there was something else—an edge she’d noticed before, when she’d accused him of being crass. Now she felt uncomfortable. It was disconcerting to feel for the first time as if she was on the back foot.

‘It’s lovely.’

Wide open French doors led out to the beach. Lia explored a little and her feet sank into deliciously warm and soft sand. The waves of the Atlantic lapped gently and rhythmically against the shore. In spite of herself, something inside her loosened. It had been so long since she’d just...relaxed. Her father’s weak health was such a worry, and he depended on her so much...

‘Careful,’ drawled Benjamin Carter, from too close, ‘or I might think you like it here.’

Immediately any sense of relaxation went out of the window and Lia glared at his back as he led her inside again, through a central open courtyard with a pool that was shaded by palm trees.

He showed her a large kitchen, gleamingly pristine with sparkling utensils and a marble worktop. Placing his hands on the counter, where they looked very large and tanned, he said, ‘This is Esmé’s domain. She’s my local housekeeper and chef. She takes care of the place when I’m not here and opens it up for me. She’ll be in later to cook dinner.’

Lia dragged her gaze up from those hands and ignored the illicit flutter in her abdomen at the sudden image of a romantic candlelit dinner on the beach. She was silent as she followed him through the villa again and upstairs. Several bedrooms lay off a wide corridor there, with a luxurious runner carpet, and then he walked across a balconied atrium. He opened a door and said, ‘This is your room.’

She looked at him suspiciously, and he said with a wide-eyed innocence that she didn’t trust for a second, ‘What? Did you not think I would be civilised enough to give you your own room? I’ve told you already—whatever happens will be mutual.’