The Ruthless Billionaire’s Redemption. Sandra Marton

broke off in confusion. His eyes darkened and a little smile tilted at the corners of his mouth.

      ‘Was I?’ he said softly. ‘How could you tell?’

      So much for playing it cool. What was she going to say now? She couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t make things worse—which was ridiculous. There was no reason to be so damned tongue-tied. If he just—if he just wouldn’t look at her that way, if he’d just back off so she could catch her breath…

      Stop it, she told herself firmly, and she tilted her head back and gave him a dazzling smile. ‘It’s been lovely,’ she said, ‘being charmed by you twice in one day. But you’ll have to forgive me—I’m in a rush. So if you’d just step aside…’

      He grinned. ‘At least you’re doing better now than you were a few hours ago.’

      Danielle stared at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

      ‘It means,’ he said, ‘that you seem to have decided I’m not the big bad wolf in disguise.’ He sighed and reached for her suitcase. ‘The trouble is, it’s too late for me to appreciate it. I’m tired as hell—I spent damned near the last twenty-four hours in the air, and I just made a call and found out it was all for nothing.’

      ‘Will you please put down my suitcase?’

      ‘Don’t give me a hard time, lady. I told you, I’m wiped out.’

      Danielle’s eyebrows rose. ‘That’s hardly my problem. Just because you—’

      ‘Your problem,’ he said, ‘is reaching Ste Agathe, which happens to be exactly where I’m headed.’

      His answer stopped her dead. ‘Ste Agathe?’ She looked at him. His expression was unreadable, and after a moment, she shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you.’

      He muttered something sharp and succinct under his breath, and then he dropped her suitcase to the floor.

      ‘Look,’ he said, putting his hands on his hips, ‘I’m flattered. Really. I like playing cat and mouse. Hell, any other time I’d be delighted to go on for hours.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘But not now. I told you, I’m tired. And I’m irritable. All I want to do is get to my rooms and take a shower.’

      Danielle stared at him. ‘Cat and mouse? I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re—’

      ‘Come on, don’t give me that. I make a move and you parry with a cold shoulder. It’s a sexy little game—hell, I didn’t think you knew it, at first. But you do—and you’re damned good at it.’ He moved closer to her, and the slow smile she remembered all too well angled across his mouth. ‘Of course,’ he said in a husky whisper, ‘we could kill two birds with one stone. You must be as tired as I am. Why don’t we go someplace quiet and climb into a shower together?’

      Colour flared in Danielle’s cheeks and she reached for her suitcase, snatching it up despite its weight. ‘Not if you were the last man on earth.’

      Laughter lit his eyes again. ‘Your choice, sweetheart. Too bad. You would have been great company.’

      ‘The taxi driver who’s going to take me to Ste Agathe is the only company I want.’

      The man grinned. ‘No problem,’ he said, jamming a pair of dark glasses on his nose. ‘Enjoy your ride. Do yourself a favour and tell the driver to take the road to Mont Abat. That should cut off a few kilometres. And tell him you know the law, that you don’t have to pay his gas or share the ride with anyone else. Of course, you’ll have to pay his fare both ways.’

      Danielle swallowed. ‘Both ways? But—’

      ‘It’s a long trip, Miss Nichols. You don’t think these guys work for nothing, do you?’

      She hesitated. ‘I—I don’t suppose you know what the fare will be?’

      ‘Not to the centime, no. But eight hundred francs ought to do it.’

      ‘Eight hundred…’ She turned pale. ‘But that’s more than a hundred and thirty dollars.’

      ‘Unless he refuses to go via Mont Abat, in which case you’ll add on another fifty or sixty francs. Oh, and you’ll have to add on a tip, of course.’

      ‘Of course,’ she said weakly. Slowly, she set her suitcase down beside her. Eight hundred francs. That was almost as much as the cost of renting a car for two weeks. It was an enormous amount of money; it would put a dent in her careful budget, and this was only her first day.

      She drew a breath and looked up at the man again. She had the feeling he was watching her closely but it was impossible to be sure, now that his eyes were hidden behind the dark glasses.

      ‘Are you—are you really going to Ste Agathe?’ she asked.

      His lips drew back from his teeth. ‘That’s what I said.’

      ‘But—but I don’t know you. I mean…’

      ‘Would a formal introduction make you feel better, Miss Nichols?’

      ‘I know this must seem very funny to you,’ Danielle said coldly, ‘but I’m not in the habit of going off with strangers.’

      ‘We’re not strangers, though. We’ve had two absolutely delightful conversations, we shared a plane ride…’ He held up his hands in surrender when he saw the look on Danielle’s face. ‘You’re quite right,’ he said solemnly. ‘Two people who are about to set off on a journey together should at least know each other’s names. Anyway, I already know yours. I suppose you’re entitled to the same courtesy.’ He made a sweeping bow. ‘Lee Bradford, at your service, mam’selle.’

      Something in the way he offered his name gave her pause. ‘Should I—am I supposed to know your name, or something?’

      ‘Or something,’ he said with a quick smile.

      Was he an actor? Was that why he was going to Ste Agathe? He was certainly handsome enough.

      She drew in her breath. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but I’m afraid—’

      ‘I’m a racer.’

      Danielle looked blank. ‘You can’t be. Jockeys are short, aren’t they?’

      He reached up slowly and pulled off his glasses. There was laughter in his eyes again. ‘Cars,’ he said softly. ‘Race cars. I’m a driver, Miss Nichols.’

      Race cars, she thought. Of course. It was easy to imagine him behind the wheel of a powerful car, the wind whipping into his face and the engine growling.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’m not very…’

      The look of amusement left his face. It was, she thought, like glimpsing the real features behind a mask, but before she could quite grasp what it was she’d thought she’d seen, the arrogant expression was back.

      ‘No,’ he said, picking up her suitcase, ‘you’re not.’ He started towards the doors as Danielle stared after him, and then he turned and looked at her. ‘Well? Are you coming or not?’

      She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘I—I don’t know. Maybe I can get a car at another counter. Maybe I should telephone…’

      Lee Bradford sighed and dropped her luggage to the floor. ‘All right,’ he said, walking towards her, ‘let’s get it over with.’

      Danielle stared at him. ‘I don’t understand.’

      He smiled as his hands clasped her shoulders. ‘Yes, you do,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve been wondering about this from the minute I walked into that lounge in New York.’ His eyes swept over her face and settled on her mouth. ‘Maybe if we get the suspense out of the way, we can get to Ste Agathe before next week.’

      She knew what he was going to do a second before it