Claiming His Secret Son. Оливия Гейтс

look different for security reasons, but ended up not needing to do anything. Time and what it brought did it all.”

      “You talk as if you’re over the hill.”

      “I feel it. And that’s my real hair color. No longer bleaching my hair was the second best thing I ever did, after getting rid of Burton himself, who insisted I looked better as a blonde.”

      His lips compressed. “Burton wasn’t only a depraved wanker, but a gaudy maggot, too. The feast of caramels and chocolates of your hair pays tribute to your creamy complexion and jeweled eyes far better than any blond shade would, framing them to the best effect possible.”

      She blinked again. Richard Graves paying her a compliment? And such a flowery one, too?

      And he wasn’t finished. “Before I approached you, I had photos, knew of your unusual beauty. But when I saw you in the flesh, the total effect punched me in the gut and not just on account of your looks. Time had only scraped away whatever prettiness youth inflicted and brought you profound beauty in its place. I believe it will only keep bestowing more on you. You were stunning, but you’ve become exquisite. With age, you’ll become divine.”

      She gaped at him. Once, when she’d believed him to be a human being, not a machine that made money and devised plans of annihilation, she’d believed him when he’d praised her beauty. But even then, when he’d been doing everything to keep her under his spell, he’d never done it with such fervor and poetry. That he did so now...offended her beyond words.

      Fury tumbled in her blood. “Spare me the nausea. We both know what you really think of me. Is this one of the ‘other things’ you had in mind? To ply me with preposterous flattery and have some more sick fun at my expense?”

      “I was actually trying my hand at sincerity.” He turned fully to her. “As for the ‘other things’ I had in mind, it’s...this.”

      And she found herself flat on her back with Richard on top of her, his chest crushing her breasts, his hips between her splayed thighs.

      Before her heart could fire the next fractured beat, he rose over her and stopped it.

      This was how a devil must look before he took one’s soul.

      Inescapable. Ravenous. Dreadfully beautiful.

      “Eight years, Isabella. Eight years without this. Now I’ll have it all again. I’ll consume every last inch and drop of you. That’s why I brought you here. And that’s why you really came.”