Читать книгу Manhattan Millionaire’s Cinderella - Sun Chara - Страница 6

“Tomorrow?” Nina plunked her hands on the computer keys, short-circuiting the flow of power and filling the screen with gibberish.

“Yep.” Cade grunted, holding her hostage with his gaze.

Nina tapped the delete button and cleared the monitor, thankful that he didn’t get a visual of the screen. She sighed, relieved, before a sliver of fear pierced her. She didn’t like that look in his eye. She should have known it by now; that cunning, ‘take no prisoners’ mentality that had launched him into the mega millions bracket virtually over night crossed over into his personal life. And now he had ensnared her.

He could get any woman he wanted, why choose her?

And why had she consented?

Couldn’t she just delete the foolish agreement she made with her boss? Surely he wouldn’t hold her to it. All she had to do was rescind—

“Not having second thoughts already?” he asked, his tone a challenge.

She jutted her chin and shook her head, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “You?”

Cade chuckled. “Not a chance.”

He had to concede to his uncle’s terms, even if it felt like a crowbar in his chest. If he didn’t play along, the international bankers would hammer locks onto his businesses. With barely enough to cut expenses next month, he’d be shoveling gravel himself at the luxury condo development in Westchester.

The idea soured in his stomach.

The sudden clanging of an alarm clock yanked him from his dark thoughts, and he scowled at his intended.

“Oops, sorry.” Nina slapped the clock quiet, and didn’t even bother looking his way. “I use the timer to pace my page count.”

“Carry on.” He circled her desk.

Cade had built his company into the billion dollar global economic force it was today virtually with his bare hands and a knack of hitting the bull’s-eye on a construction deal. To have his life’s work on the edge of destruction scoured his insides and pumped him into battle.

A distressing noise invaded his thoughts, and he refocused on Nina, slamming her coffee mug on the desk and muffling a cough with her hand.

“We-ent down the wrong way,” she wheezed, reaching for a Kleenex.

“You want some water?” He patted her back and when a crackle of electricity singed his fingers, he pulled away. Static from her dress, he concluded, but the sensation shot into his arm and spread through him.

Hot. Arousing.

He frowned. Unusual.

“No-o.” She shook her head, and a curl fell over her brow. “I’m fine, thanks.” A flick of her fingers, and she smoothed it back in place.

“Are you always so efficient?”

“Excuse me?” she murmured, her attention on the computer screen.

“Nothing,” he muttered, stepping away from her.

All this week until dawn today, he’d racked his brains for another solution to his dilemma. But this morning, he’d rolled out of bed, his pajama bottoms riding low on his hips and, scrubbing his unshaven jaw raw, trudging barefoot to the kitchen of his Park Avenue penthouse, while his lack of options mocked him. Seizing the percolator from the counter, he had splashed stale coffee in a mug and taken a swig in hope of reviving his senses. Scratching his chest, he slogged to the living room, and sank on the sofa, the mug warming his palms.

A flutter in Monte Carlo or Las Vegas might dig him out if lady luck was on his side. A dim memory of his father turning a card at the gaming tables and online casinos surfaced. Cade had taken a gulp of the brew and the bitter taste grated his tongue. On a winning streak, William Sloan had strutted; but on a losing spiral—

Cade then hauled himself up and walked to the wall of window, squinting at the sun rising over the Manhattan skyline, his eyes stinging from his sleepless night. Out in New York Harbor, shrouded by early morning mist he could just about see Lady Liberty standing strong and sure. A wry twist cracked his mouth. A toss of the dice was too risky…a fool’s folly. He needed a sure hit.

A rumble erupted from deep in his chest, and he dumped half the coffee down his throat. In the distance a foghorn sounded, signaling it was time to get his butt to the office and face his creditors…and his secretary. Still he hesitated. He could sell out and liquidate his assets or refinance and cash out. But with real estate shifting from a sellers’ to a buyers’ market, he’d still be short by three million.

How had his uncle known the exact amount?

“Oh darn.” The muffled exclamation and the scraping of a chair across the floor zoomed him back to the frontlines…and to her. Ms. McLowsky had already yanked out the mangled document from the printer, inserted new paper and resumed her stiff pose at the computer.

He skimmed her head, barely noticing the highlights glinting on her hair from the sunbeam filtering through the windowpane. His gaze bounced off the graceful line of her neck to her mouth, now pursed in concentration, her fingers tapping the keys. He had to buy himself some time, even if it meant being forced to the altar with her.

The growl in his throat sounded, and Nina snapped her head up, her huge eyes mirrored through the lenses.

A pinprick to his heart, but he set his jaw and steeled every muscle in his body.

Collateral damage.

He was engaging in a battle on the global economic field to recoup his losses—little Nina McLowsky was simply collateral damage. He grunted.

“Is that part of the memo, sir?”

Snooty Ms. McLowsky? Well, well… he curved his mouth in a bemused smile. Might turn out to be the best fun he’d had in a long time.

“Very funny, Ms. McLows…er…Nina.” Her name skimmed across his tongue like Southern Comfort, smooth, hot, sensuous. “Let’s dispense with formality, shall we?” He loosened his tie. “Since we’re about to tie the knot.” He clicked his tongue. “For better or worse.”

“Worse is what I’m thinking,” she mumbled beneath her breath.

“What was that, Ms.…er…Nina?”

******

Nina sat strapped in the seat of Century Corp’s private Lear plane beside her husband and stared out the window at rain battering the runway. The summer storm had turned the day dismal, reflecting her thoughts. She twisted the gold band around her finger. Three hours. She’d been married to Cade Sloan all of three hours, and she was now about to jet across the globe for their honeymoon. She curled her fingers so tightly, her pink tipped nails bit into her palm. Moisture beaded her upper lip.

She glanced at him, slouched in his seat and snoozing like he hadn’t a care in the world.

Her temples throbbed.

When the plane taxied down the runway of John F Kennedy International Airport, she clutched the seat arms and held her breath.

The aircraft picked up speed and then they were airborne.

A sigh of relief forced its way from her tight throat, and she unclenched her hands. She lifted a stray curl off her moist brow, patted the dampness with a tissue from her purse, and crumpled it between her fingers.

Her stomach rolled.

Gulping down nausea, she leaned her head to the side and shut her eyes, but that made it worse. She opened her eyes wide and collided with the intensity of his gaze. It socked her breast, shot into her heart and scrambled her vitals. She sucked in oxygen, desperately, and he bolted upright.

“You okay?”

She nodded, and then shook her head, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Here, lie back.” He reclined the chair, placed his hand on her shoulder and eased her down. When he stretched across to adjust the light blanket over her, he accidentally bumped her breasts, sending an electrical sizzle into her body.

She held her breath. He expelled his.

The subtle mint of his breath brushed her hot cheek, alerting her senses. He stayed near for another second. It seemed endless. Her pulse skyrocketed.

Thankfully, that took her mind off the tornado in her stomach.

Then he pulled away.

Pent up air in her lungs shot forth through her lips as she sighed in relief.

“Want something to eat?”

“Ummm,” she mouthed, glaring at him.

“Bad choice of words, huh?” He curved his mouth in a half grin, a gesture that had her breath looping around her ribs. “Some water?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Guess not.”

Heck, Cade didn’t know what to do with a tipsy woman in the confines of the aircraft cabin. He squinted at Nina, and her pallor had him wanting to gather her into his arms and stroke her, to smell her subtle scent that seemed to wrap around his heart and not let go. He chuckled at his foolish musing. Get a handle, Sloan.

She’d do for a bit of wedding night bliss to seal the deal with the backer…then he’d keep his distance, avoid complications until such time as he could reasonably unload her.

“Shouldn’t imbibe on booze on an empty stomach,” he bit out. She must have overdone it with the pre-flight cocktails while he dozed; something he rarely did, but on his own cruiser, he felt he could steal a few moments of shut-eye.

She opened her mouth to give him some sass but quickly shut it tight.

“You’ll feel better by the time we get to Larnaca.” He set his jaw, knowing full well he had to go through the farce and show up there with his bride before collecting the cash.

Someone had set him up to take the fall. The sharks that he put on the case had worked out that the tip-offs came from an undisclosed location in Europe. In the meantime, he had to stack his arsenal to ensure a victory.

Cade glanced her way, and then retreated.

It’d work for him…a combo deal; business and pleasure.

He’d make sure of it.

He tossed her another look, and got booted somewhere in the vicinity of his heart for his trouble. Odd. Definitely odd. He waggled his shoulders and dismissed the feeling.

The one night with her should zip by without a hitch, and then he’d be off with Century Corp intact, pockets full and little Nina would be history.

“So, lie back and enjoy the ride Mrs…uh…Sloan,” he muttered, doing just that.

******

Nina had endured the remainder of the flight, and had actually snoozed for a couple of hours while they flew over the Atlantic Ocean.

Then before she realized it, they were descending over the Mediterranean and toward the seaside Larnaca International Airport on the island of Cyprus. The jolt of the jet’s wheels on the landing strip jostled her awake, and by the time she reoriented herself, they were disembarking.

A blast of heat had smacked her face, and she stepped back, bumping into her husband’s iron-hard chest. He took her elbow to guide her down the stairs, and shivers shot up her arm. She faltered in her step, and the strap of her sandal snapped loose.

“Steady there.” He spanned her waist, his touch an electric charge to her nervous system, and lifted her over the last three steps of the aircraft’s ladder. Just before he set her on her feet, his temple brushed hers and she glanced up, so close, she could see the brown tint of his lashes, smell. He glanced down, and she tumbled into his golden-brown gaze.

She held her breath, her heart pounding.

He shuttered his eyes, and let her go. “Okay now?”

“Mmm.” She stepped onto the tarmac and mindless of the heat penetrating the soles of her shoes, gazed at the priceless view of ocean and sky. Salt tang in the air tickled her nose. A lone seagull squawked, and she lifted her head, the evening sun still bright enough to make her squint. She heard Cade’s intake of breath as he filled his lungs with sea air, then grew quiet. Just for a moment, she allowed herself to imagine this was real, that she and Cade—

The surf crashed upon the rocks, shattering her fantasy and the fragile connection between them.

“Come on.” He grabbed her wrist, dragging her through Customs, luggage claim and then to the limousine waiting outside the airport.

She’d managed the limo ride to Century Blue, one of his oceanfront properties in Ayia Napa, the playground of Western Europe, and the elevator ascent to the penthouse bridal suite. But by the time the bellman deposited their luggage in the foyer, accepted the generous tip from Cade and made his exit, she was a frazzled heap of nerves.

She felt it, and for sure must look it, what with her cotton shift wrinkled, her sandal flopping and her mussed hair sticking to her temples.

She flung an arm across her eyes, trying to forget her lackluster appearance—hardly the look of a glowing bride. Digging her toes beneath the cushions, she gulped down the whimper vibrating in her throat.

When Cade had shut the door behind the bellman, she started to panic.

Would he pounce? Would she let him? After all, she made a bargain…a high-end deal with the mogul of Manhattan. A hysterical sound bubbled in her chest and burst from her mouth in a muffled sound.

The sun had turned the horizon into a blaze of color, and the Mediterranean Sea into liquid gold.

“Hungry?” Cade asked, just as his cell beeped.

Relief flooded through her when the cell call had cornered his attention.

Nina gave him a wan smile and a wave of her hand, but by then, he had stepped onto the balcony. That suited her fine, giving her some breathing space to rest up and regroup. She wobbled on her feet and eyed the bed before her gaze skittered to him now in earnest conversation. She opted for the couch. Tossing her purse on one end, she kicked off her sandals and collapsed on the cushions.

A sea breeze sailed towards her from the half open balcony doors.

It was balmy, sensual and soothing.

“You can use the bathroom first,” Cade mouthed over the cell’s mouthpiece.

She shook her head. A big mistake. The vibrations shot to her toes and back up to her belly, making her stomach heave. She closed her eyes.

She heard him pacing, his words floating to her on the evening breeze and disintegrating her thoughts.

“I got her.”A muted chuckle. “By nightfall, she’ll be docked, tied and ready to ride—”

A pause.

“She’s not for sale yet.”

In the background, waves pounded the beach, a crescendo of sound in a second of stillness.

“I’ve got dibs on her maiden voyage—”

From the courtyard down below, the Bouzouki musicians tuned up for the evening entertainment, and mouthwatering aromas of souvlaki cooked over an open grill wafted to her. She grabbed her middle; she for one would not be dining under the stars tonight.

The distraction eclipsed his words and she crinkled her brow, trying to make sense of what she heard.

“A costly investment, I’ll be paying—”

Her eyes flew open wide. Me?

The fluttering of curtain allowed her glimpses of the million-dollar ocean view, but her attention was glued on her husband.

“After I break her in, you can have her—”

“How dare you—” Nina made to jump up, jostled her insides, and fell back, closing her eyes, and pressing her mouth tight. She would not be sick. Would not be sick. Not now. Not in front of him.

“—if the price is right.”

Sweat poured from her pores, soaking her wrinkled cotton dress…her wedding dress. What had she gotten herself entangled in?

“I’ll sell—”

Sell her?

“—to the highest bidder.”

She began to pant, then a whiz of sound fizzed between her teeth, and she lifted her lashes a fraction, snaring him in her focus.

Tall, dark and gorgeous…deceptive—dangerous.

Worse than she imagined. Yet, he looked so calm and cool, fresh in his white open necked shirt and denims he wore for their ‘I do’s’ compared to her—a ragged mass of guilt ridden nerves. He whisked her off so quickly after the ceremony at New York City Hall, she’d had no time to change, her one travel bag already in the trunk of the Bentley.

“By midnight she’ll be purring beneath my hands.”

His words iced her skin.

Something was wrong; something was very uncool, but she was too zoned out from the intercontinental flight, the emotional see-saw of the wedding—not what a girl dreamed of—the heat, and her queasy stomach, to figure it out.

“Yeah, I can handle her.” A guffaw. “Should be an easy ride.”

Nina seethed, a flush on her skin making her temperature rise and her ire about to explode.

“Naa.”

An ominous silence.

“If you’re willing to pay, she’ll play—”

A chuckle.

It sent shivers crawling up her spine.

“I’ll guarantee she’ll be a real fine piece of a—”

Nina’s hand flew to her throat, the other to her abdomen, her heart hammering. Dear God, what had she done? This was a snow job on her by none other than the king of con. She’d fallen for his duplicity and been fool enough to marry him. She cringed, gulping down bile rising in her throat. The acid taste curdled her stomach, and she tottered to her feet, weaving her way to the bathroom.

“Hey, you alright?”

The sounds from within must have alerted him, for he was there, knocking on the half open door. And her, with her head half in the toilet.

If the floor caved in and carried her out to sea, she’d be ever so grateful.

No such luck.

He loomed over her, a slight shift of his sneakers visible from her peripheral vision. Could it be that Mr. High and Mighty Sloan was uneasy about something? That gave her a lift, but it was short lived as another wave of nausea assaulted. She waved him back with her outstretched hand. He deserved a tongue-lashing, which she couldn’t give in her present position. She heard the sink faucet running then—

“Here.” He handed her a damp washcloth.

She mumbled her thanks and waved him out. “Go.”

Cade squinted at her bent-over figure, zeroing in on her shapely tush outlined beneath the cotton material of her dress stretched taut and riding high on her slender thighs. A beauty mark teased. He paused, and then made his exit. “Be right here if you want—”

She extended a leg and booted the door shut in his face.

The toilet flushed.

Ten minutes later, Nina stepped from the bath and shrieked, trying to cover her naked body with her hands. “What ’re you doing here?”

“Come ‘ere.” Cade held open a towel for her, his voice sounding gruffer than he intended. “Don’t want you catching cold.”

“Concern for me?” She snatched the towel from his hand and wrapped it around herself.

She must be feeling better, he mused, plunking down on the toilet lid.

“You’re an expensive investment.” There, that’d get the ball back in his court pronto. Couldn’t afford to be going soft. Better she thought him the s.o.b. the media pegged him. He curled his mouth in distaste…in the end he’d appear to be exactly that, maybe even worse, in her eyes. He shrugged, reminding himself; collateral damage.

She laughed, a dry sound that annoyed the heck outta him. He couldn’t figure out why, and Cade Sloan always had answers.

She squinted up at him. “Which you haven’t paid for yet.” She swept her glasses from the sink ledge and propped them on her nose.

“After I’ve sampled the goods—” He paused, allowing his words to tell their own story. “We’ll cash out in the morning.” He wiggled his brows. “Divvy up the loot.” He inclined his head toward a manila envelope on the coffee table, barely visible from her vantage point. “Wedding gift.” His words crackled with cynicism. “Delivered when you were in the shower. The other half will arrive tomorrow.”

“Your half or mine?”

“Very funny.”

She fluttered her eyelashes and, about to smack him with a smart retort, she keeled over. He leaped up and caught her in his arms. For a heartbeat, she struggled against him, and then eased in his embrace. She smelled fresh…of soap, shampoo and woman. Different than most women whose heavy perfumes nearly knocked him out. A chuckle threatened, and he locked it in his throat. He scooped her up and took her to bed.

As soon as her head hit the pillow, she conked out. He allowed his gaze to travel from the damp hair framing her face to her smooth shoulders, pausing at her cleavage barely visible above the towel still wrapped around her body. Skimming her thighs, he noted the slight bend to her legs on the bedding, the curve of her calf, her slim ankles, the arch of her foot, her hot pink polished toenails. She had one arm sprawled over her head and the other bent, her hand cushioning her cheek. Her golden tipped lashes brushed her cheeks and the sprinkle of freckles on her nose made his lips twitch a smile. It vanished when he focused on her mouth. Palest pink. He could imagine it tasting sweet.

He shook his head. A sex kitten if he ever saw one. And he’d seen plenty. Logistically, with his work schedule it’d been impossible to do more than enjoy the view. A heavy sigh shoved its way from his belly, and he scratched his chin with his knuckles. He had his morals…and his instincts.

He could smell a bad rap a mile off. Made it a rule to stay clear of women who showed their claws, became too possessive and made demands—who would want to change him, complicating his life.

And for that, the newshounds coined him a callous ‘love ’em ’n leave’em, s.o.b.’

A hollow sound burst from deep inside him.

Nina stirred, a moan which was almost a purr feathered from her lips.

He snapped out of his turbulent thoughts and focused on her. She’d catch a cold if she stayed in that damp towel. Gently, he removed her glasses and set them on the bedside table. Unfurling the towel from around her body, he got the breath knocked out of him before he gathered himself and pulled the covers over her body. He touched her cheek in a fleeting caress and stepped away.

He wouldn’t be sampling his high priced ‘investment’ tonight.

A series of chills grazed his nape, but he dismissed them as the effect of the night breeze drifting in from the balcony. He rubbed the back of his neck, and chuckled at his foolishness, his gaze fixed on the ugly duckling turned swan in his bed.

His jaw tightened, and he felt himself harden.

He drew in a deep breath, then another, before heading for the shower.

Tomorrow night. He’d bring this deal to a close.