Читать книгу A Virgin To Redeem The Billionaire - Dani Collins, Dani Collins - Страница 11

KAINE MICHAELS WASN’T surprised when he saw Gisella Drummond enter the private lounge where his staff was celebrating his latest app going public. He was furious, of course. She was deliberately misunderstanding him, but he had to admire her moxie.

You’re not the cousin I want to talk to, he had replied to someone named Rozalia when she had tried to set up a meeting a few days ago.

Gisella wasn’t either, but he found he wasn’t disappointed. Maybe he’d even left his wording open to interpretation, curious to see if she’d make another attempt to “persuade” him.

She really ought to be ashamed of herself, walking in here without an invitation, but he doubted she possessed such a thing. For starters, where would she keep it? There was absolutely no room for anything but sex appeal in that little black dress she was almost wearing.

He had thought her stunning when all he’d seen of her was loose waves of caramel hair, a slender back and an ass that could stop traffic atop legs that went for miles.

Tonight, she captivated him just as easily and completely. How? This was California. Beautiful women were low-hanging fruit here. He didn’t have a type, but found himself partial to everything about her. Her height, her buttermilk skin, her elegantly refined bone structure.

In a land where everything was fake from eyelashes to teeth to breasts, she stood out as a natural beauty. She wore makeup, but not a candy coating of it. Hers was applied in subtle shades that accentuated her high cheekbones and glossed her luscious mouth.

Coders in sweatshirts and khakis turned their heads to watch as she wove toward Kaine. The twenty-somethings adjusted their glasses and the forty-somethings sucked in their stomachs. The women in pencil skirts narrowed their eyes with envy.

Her aloof expression took no notice of anyone except him as she moved through mirror-ball sparkles that glittered off glowing white twigs against a bath of purple light cast by black bulbs.

“Gentlemen,” she said as she arrived into his circle. She barely raised her voice above the thump of the DJ’s playlist, neatly interrupting a movie producer trying to talk Kaine into investing in his latest blockbuster. “I need Mr. Michaels.”

Kaine had an idea where her audacity came from. Her father owned a well-respected advertising firm. She’d been raised in upper-class circles thanks to a private education. Even so, she was a goldfish, not a shark. One who still managed to blow a few bubbles and shoo the bigger fish away. They dispersed without hesitation, only looking over their shoulders to catch a glimpse of her slinky black dress and slinkier shoes.

Those tiny black patent belts enclosing her ankles would inspire a fetish in a priest.

Kaine dragged his attention back up her legs, fantasizing about the smoothness of those thighs against his palms and lips. Was she wearing matching midnight underwear beneath that short skirt? A wink of red? Something nude? Perhaps she was nude.

He bit back a groan of craving, dying to find out. And the top of that thing. He could ease it down with a fingertip and discover exactly how warm and round and heavy her perfectly formed breasts were. Lick at her nipples and watch a flush of pleasure stain her skin.

He arrived at cheeks hollow with dismay. Her eyes—green, he recalled, since the surreal lighting made the color indiscernible—shot sparks of indignation.

“You crashed this party, Ms. Barsi,” he pointed out, refusing to apologize for his ogling. “Don’t complain about the reception you receive.” He added a laconic, “Call security,” to the waiter who approached with a tray of champagne.

The server faltered.

“He’s joking,” Gisella said, stealing a flute of bubbly and smiling in a way that dazzled the confused server into smiling and ducking his head.

“I’m not,” Kaine assured her as the kid slipped away.

She only sipped and glanced over the crowd. “You call this a party?”

A deserved burn. The atmosphere was flatter than roadkill. Despite the pulse of music and the money made by everyone in the room, people stood in knots of downcast heads. Kids these days. They’d rather post a photo that they were there than be here.

“It’s Drummond, by the way. I told you that last week,” Gisella said. “When my grandmother married Benedek Barsi, she already had my mother.”

“Did she?” He scratched under his chin.

She sent him a sharp look. “What does that mean?”

“I do my homework.” Did she really not know?

He’d been intrigued by her from the first photo he’d seen, gaze drawn back to her image more than once as he’d learned all he could about Benny’s family. A few things had converged to make buying the Garrison estate a wise, last-minute move. He might not have been there, however, if his attention hadn’t already been snagged by her. His sources had revealed she’d been searching for a single earring for years and he’d seen an opportunity.

And, if he hadn’t known about her intense interest, he might have believed she’d been responding to his kiss in a very open, refreshing way. She hadn’t, of course. She had been trying to manipulate him. Even knowing that, he remained reluctantly fascinated.

“Have you been doing yours?” he asked her.

“My homework?”

“Yes. How is Benny? Never mind. I don’t care. Unless he’s dead. That’s the only excuse I’ll accept for his avoiding my calls.”

Pressing her lips flat, she seemed to gather her composure, standing taller and squaring her shoulders. “I haven’t been able to reach him.”

“Then why are you here?”

“You know why. The earring. You wouldn’t meet Rozi so here I am. I’m willing to be generous.”

“Not interested,” he lied. He was far too interested in watching how she played this despite knowing she was trying to play him.

“I haven’t even given you a number.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you offer, I can receive double from someone else.”

“Viktor Rohan?”

For some reason, the way she said the man’s name—pithy and familiar—provoked a sudden, inexplicable tension in him.

“You know him?” He kept his poker face on, pretending equal disinterest as he scanned the crowd.

“I know of him. We haven’t met. You’re planning to sell it to him, then?” She was affecting nonchalance, same as him, but she had tells. Her fingers tapped the stem of the glass she held, betraying her nervous interest in his answer.

“I haven’t decided.”

Viktor Rohan had become a bit of a thorn in Kaine’s side, prodding him to sell the earring to him with ever-increasing incentives. Kaine wasn’t playing him like a fish. From what he knew about the man, Rohan wasn’t a man to be trifled with. Under other circumstances, Kaine would have happily parted with the bauble for a modest profit.

But then, Gisella would have no reason to be here, frowning over his funeral of a party.

“What if I say I’ll double Viktor’s last offer?” she asked.

Kaine was again impressed by her bravado. He named the most recent figure Viktor had sent him, which made her lashes quiver.

He smirked. “Ready to fold?”

“I’m not bluffing,” she bluffed. “I just hadn’t realized how quickly the stakes were rising. I’m prepared to pay that. Do we have a deal?” She offered her free hand.

“Oh, hell no. I don’t need the money and it’s clearly appreciating daily.” The value of its leverage with her was priceless.

He sipped his bourbon and her arm fell to her side.

“You’re quite desperate for this thing, aren’t you? Why?” The earring was pretty, Kaine supposed, but he didn’t see what all the fuss was about. “To sell it to Rohan yourself at a profit?”

“No.” She acted offended. “I told you. I want to give it to my grandmother.”

“One earring.”

“It’s very special to her.”

Kaine had never understood attaching emotion to anything, least of all musty old objects. He didn’t even possess a favorite pair of jeans let alone a watch or a boat that he would grieve over sinking. Everything could be replaced, provided he kept his bank balance healthy enough to make the purchase.

As someone gambling in the tech industry, he didn’t even let the fluctuations in his cash flow bother him too greatly.

The only time he grew hot under the collar was when someone tried to take something from him. And someone had. A few weeks ago, her cousin Benny had blown a crater into Kaine’s net worth. The circle of investors whom Benny had assembled were all standing around the edge, throwing rocks to ensure he sank as quickly as possible.

That was a memory to hang on to, not the one where he had clasped that pointed chin and ravaged those pillowy lips with a hunger that sat in the pit of his gut right now, howling like a starving beast scenting more.

“I can’t be swayed by emotion,” he informed her, trying to burn away his ferocious thirst for her by finishing his neat bourbon in one fiery swallow. He cut his gaze down her front with dismissal, determined she wouldn’t know how thoroughly she was getting to him. “Not even by lust.”

* * *

Gisella had dressed to get past security without a lot of questions. There were always a few mistresses and trophy wives at events like this. All she’d had to say was, “I’m meeting my husband,” and she had sailed on in.

Now, however, as Kaine Michaels skimmed an appraising gaze over her while cynicism dug a curl into the corner of his mouth, she grew hot and wished she’d chosen a power suit.

At the same time, her brain picked apart his remark. Was he saying he felt lust toward her? That ought to offend her, not cause a seesaw of excitement and yearning. A flood of heat that was more pleasure than outrage began licking low in her belly.

She couldn’t help being deeply attracted to him, though. He’d been a force in a shirt with an open throat and suede jacket. Tonight, he wore a tuxedo with satin lapels over a shirt with hidden buttons. He ought to look like every other man in here, but from the cut of the shoulders to the break in his pant cuff over shiny handcrafted Italian shoes, he was a man above the rest. One who knew it, too.

Trying to hide how deeply he mesmerized her, she said, “If I was here to seduce you, you would know it.”

The white of his teeth flashed. It wasn’t so much a smile of amusement as satisfaction. “I like a sense of humor, especially in my enemies. It keeps me from growing bored.”

“How am I your enemy? You’re angry with Benny.” If she left with nothing else tonight, she would understand why he was taking out his anger on her. “Tell me what you think he did.”

“I know what he did,” he said, turning so cold it was as if a door had been thrown open to the Arctic. A subzero blizzard swirled around her with his words. “He falsified mining samples and disappeared, framing me to look like the culprit. I’ve made explanations to my investors, but they aren’t buying it.”

“Wait, what?” She found her hand on his arm of its own accord, needing to steady herself.

He was like iron under the fabric of his jacket sleeve. He looked at her hand with a raised brow, making her lift it away self-consciously. Her pulse continued to bounce like a pinball.

She fought to recover and find her voice. Benny was a geologist. His exploration company operated as an arm of Barsi on Fifth. It allowed Barsi on Fifth, her employer, to offer its richest clientele a means of investing in gems and precious metals literally at ground level.

“Benny would never salt samples. Our entire family relies on the Barsi reputation remaining impeccable. We all do our part to keep it that way.”

“Yes, it would seem all of New York believes your family is beyond reproach. That’s why the investment consortium is blaming me for the fraud, turning my name to mud all the way down the Eastern Seaboard.”

She shook her head, wanting to sit down, but the room was nothing but high-top tables, glittering ice sculptures and gaggles of hoodies. The music and noise were getting to her and she noticed that people were watching them. It made her uncomfortable, now that Kaine had completely thrown her out of her element. She had to fight letting the cracks in her composure show.

“What exactly has Benny said?”

“Nothing. That’s why I had to get his attention. You’ve disappointed me, Gisella. I don’t think you want that earring nearly as badly as you pretend. I think you’re more interested in keeping Benny’s crime from coming to light. You’re trying to placate me. But this sort of mollification—” he circled his finger to encompass her painted lips to her painted toes “—is very last century. And entirely too predictable.”

His accusation sent a few more fractures zigzagging across her veneer of confidence. She had wanted to kiss him, not that she would admit it now. Not when he was so disparaging about something that had caused such a flagrant reaction in her it still put a scorch of vulnerability in her throat.

“Benny is probably at the site, trying to sort it out,” she insisted.

“The site is in Indonesia. His office said he’s in South America. So does his social media.”

“I’ll make some calls. Right now.”

“Knock yourself out.”

Her heart hammered like a trapped bird in her chest, unsure which direction to fly. With a sniff of determination, she moved into a quiet corner and quickly realized it was well past business hours in New York, even later in South America. She tried her uncle’s cell, biting her nail because he might not even pick up. He was still in Florida checking on Grandmamma and they might be having an early night.

He answered and they exchanged brief greetings. He was her boss at Barsi on Fifth along with being her uncle. He presumed she was calling about work.

“No, it’s about Benny,” she said. “Have you spoken to him lately? I’ve just heard the most bizarre rumor from Kaine Michaels.” She glanced around, not wanting to repeat what Kaine had said in case she was overheard.

Her uncle’s silence was very ominous.

“Uncle?” she prompted.

“Why are you talking to him?” She couldn’t tell if his inflection was disdain or trepidation.

“Kaine has Grandmamma’s earring. I tried to buy it at an estate auction last week.” She hadn’t told anyone what she was planning, wanting to surprise everyone with her triumph. Instead, things had spiraled into a bigger mess than she could have anticipated. “I came here to make him an offer, but he’s making some awful accusations. Benny needs to call Kaine right away and straighten this out.”

“For God’s sake, Gisella. I wish you had talked to me first.”

“Why? What’s going on?” A chill invaded her chest.

“I don’t know,” he said in a clipped voice. “I’ve heard the few rumors myself. I’m doing my best to quash them while I try to get hold of Benny and hear his side of it.”

“You don’t think he would actually—”

“I do not,” he assured her, believing as she did that Benny was honest, reliable and professional. “But I don’t trust Michaels. You shouldn’t, either.”

She glanced up and saw Kaine staring at her from across the room.

“He wouldn’t be this angry if he didn’t feel it was justified.” She understood that instinctively.

“Well, don’t antagonize him further,” her uncle ordered. “He’s a dangerous man.”

In many ways. He held her from afar with nothing more than an unbroken stare.

“I’ll, um, do my best to smooth things over. Explain that we’ll have answers soon.” A dent in the Barsi name could spell disaster for all of them.

“I’ll try Benny right now,” her uncle promised. “Tell Michaels I’ll have him get in touch as soon as possible.”

She doubted that would be enough for Kaine, but Gisella thanked him and ended the call. As she did, she noticed a message from Rozi. Her cousin had touched down safely in Hungary and was headed to her hotel for a nap.

Viktor Rohan’s mother had agreed to meet with Gisella after Gisella had leaned heavily on their distant bloodline connection. Gisella had been completely prepared to go herself, but Kaine had rebuffed Rozi’s request for a meeting with his annoying, You’re not the cousin I want to talk to.

In a fit of pique, Gisella had insisted Rozi take her meeting with the Rohans. She would handle Kaine Michaels. This time he wouldn’t get the better of her.

She had believed it right up until Kaine’s accusation had left her bobbing through the ether, completely unmoored. Benny would not have committed fraud. That much she knew. It wasn’t in his nature and he wouldn’t put the family’s reputation and livelihood in jeopardy.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Gisella glanced up to see a handsome thirty-something in a nice suit eyeing her as if she was the dessert selection of the buffet. He might have been one of the men talking to Kaine when she arrived, but she hadn’t taken much notice of anyone but the man she’d come to see.

“Finished your call?” Kaine said, appearing at her side with ninja suddenness. “Darling,” he added, dry and late with the endearment, clearly using it to step on the other man’s advances.

The other man melted away.

Kaine lightly skimmed his hand to the small of her back, setting her senses alight, breaking her voice as she tried to answer his question.

“Y-yes. My uncle will have Benny call you as soon as possible.”

“Wonderful,” he said with open sarcasm. “Let’s dance, then.”

She didn’t want to antagonize him further, but, “No one is dancing.”

“Leaders lead. You strike me as one.”

She snapped him a look, but that hadn’t sounded like more sarcasm. It seemed to be a sincere compliment. How would he know what she was like?

“Why else would you be here representing your family?” he taunted lightly. “You’re not a sacrificial lamb, are you?”

“No.” But she felt inordinately vulnerable. She had been thinking of him day and night, trying to hate him even as she had wished things had gone differently. Wished their kiss had been the beginning of something more.

That longing was still lodged in her throat with a sob of disappointment. At least now she understood why he was treating her with such disparagement.

This had to be a misunderstanding. Had to be.

And she was an independent sort. One who struck out on her own to get things done. One who would happily play envoy for her family, even if she found it uncomfortable to face down so much suspicion.

“Why don’t we take this discussion somewhere more private,” she suggested.

His eyes became narrow slits with a gleam of enigmatic obsidian. His smile was empty of humor as he drew his lips back against his teeth.

“That would be my pleasure.”