Lynne Graham's Brides of L'Amour Bundle

Hilary bridled. ‘It’s a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound overdraft run up on air fares…all right, it’s money I owe, but stop talking like it’s—’

‘I’m a banker. An unauthorised overdraft is a debt—’

‘You can’t do this to me, Roel.’ In her desperation, Hilary followed him out onto the landing. ‘If I leave London, who’s going to take my place while I’m away?’

‘You hire a manager. I’ll cover the expense—’

In furious frustration and lingering disbelief, Hilary watched Roel start down the stairs. ‘If you use my relationship with my sister as a threat, I will never forgive you,’ she warned him.

Lean, intelligent face cold and impassive in cast, Roel cast her a darkling glance. ‘You think I’d care about that?’

Chilled, she slumped back against the wall and slowly breathed in deep in an effort to calm herself. He might even be glad of the excuse to punish her by revealing all to Emma. It was not a risk she could afford to run. She thought her sister might understand why she had signed up for such a marriage almost four years back when their lives had been so bleak, but she would be very hurt that Hilary had allowed her to believe that their marriage was a genuine one. To that injury would be added the facts of Hilary’s more recent behaviour and how would Emma view that? Dear heaven, would Roel let Emma realise that Hilary had actually slept with him this time around? Hilary literally writhed with horror at the idea of having her own failings paraded for her kid sister’s benefit. She was supposed to set standards for her younger sibling, not break them.

Roel had, with merciless precision, chosen the one threat capable of making Hilary dance to his tune…

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘I’M JUST so happy for you!’ Emma hugged Hilary with bubbling enthusiasm between the first and second courses of their meal. ‘When I start university after the summer, you’ll see even less of me and I was worried you’d get lonely. Does that sound selfish?’

‘Of course it doesn’t,’ Hilary reassured her with as bright a smile as she could manage. Living away from home had made her sister independent and, although it hurt a little sometimes that Emma relied more on her own judgement, Hilary was very proud of her.

‘Hilary needs to have some fun,’ Emma informed Roel earnestly. ‘She’s given up so much for me. My scholarship only ever covered part of my school fees and Hilary’s been paying the rest. That’s why she’s always so broke. When I realised how much my education was costing, I tried to persuade her to move me—’

‘You were doing really well where you were and that was the most important thing,’ Hilary slotted into that embarrassing flood of personal information being freely proffered to Roel. ‘Emma wants to be an international lawyer. She’s really good at languages.’

Roel spoke to her sister in French and Emma responded with impeccable cool. They both had that confident sharp edge that Hilary had always rather envied in others. After the meal, Roel took a call on his mobile and Hilary and her sister had a few minutes alone. Emma was returning to school to revise for her A-level exams. Once they were over, she was flying straight out to Spain to stay with a friend at her family’s holiday villa. Having waved off her sister, Hilary climbed into the limo with Roel.

‘I haven’t finished sorting things out yet, so I’ll have to go back to my flat.’

Roel sent her a hard glance. ‘We don’t have time.’

Hilary lifted her chin. ‘You don’t but I do. Fly me out economy tomorrow.’

‘I’ll reschedule our flight for later this evening—’

‘That’s not necessary,’ Hilary said woodenly. ‘I need more time to organise things. I’d prefer to travel tomorrow.’

Roel surveyed her mutinous profile. ‘I’m not leaving London without you.’

‘I don’t want to go to Switzerland—’

‘Liar,’ Roel murmured huskily.

Hilary bristled. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Roel ran a taunting forefinger along the generous curve of her lower lip. Her sensitive skin tingled and her breath caught in her throat.

‘Show me how much you hate what I do to you, bella mia,’ Roel suggested in a silken invitation.

Even though she was trying to fight the impulse, she found herself leaning forward. He drew her like a fire when she was freezing cold. Her nostrils flared on the achingly familiar scent of him: masculine overlaid with a trace of some expensive lotion, incredibly sexy. Her breasts stirred inside her bra cups, tender crests straining into stiff points.

‘You’re not trying hard enough,’ Roel censured.

‘Trying what?’ Her mind was a total blank, her voice hoarse with the effort required to speak.

He raised a lean brown hand and stroked a provocative fingertip over the taut prominence of an engorged nipple outlined by the thin fabric of her top.

When he touched that sensitive peak a soft whimper of sound broke from her. Her heart was pounding like a drum. Her head felt too heavy for her neck and she let it tip back. Between her slender thighs the heat of wanting rose to a bitter-sweet peak of craving that burned.