The Gold Collection. Maggie Cox

strap of her nightdress had slipped off her shoulder and he recalled with stark clarity the way he had pushed it even lower last night, to leave her pale breast exposed. The sight of her dusky pink nipple had filled him with an uncontrollable longing to bend his head and take the hard peak in his mouth, suckle her until she whimpered with pleasure, and it had taken every vestige of his will-power to stop himself from pushing her back onto the sofa and covering her body with his own. The memory was enough to make him harden until he was sure she must see the embarrassing proof of his arousal, and, inhaling sharply, he took a jerky step back from the bed.

      ‘Talk about what?’ Freya asked him in genuine confusion. Her brain seemed to be made of cotton wool this morning and her thought process wasn’t aided by the sight of Zac in a superbly tailored grey suit that emphasised the width of his broad shoulders. He looked urbane and sophisticated, every inch the billionaire businessman, and she was horribly aware of her dishevelled appearance. She adjusted the strap of her nightdress, her cheeks flaming when she caught the amused gleam in his eyes. She’d hoped that last night had all been part of her nightmare, but the tenderness of her swollen lips was proof that he had kissed her and she had responded with an enthusiasm that now made her shudder.

      ‘The accident,’ he snapped, forcing her to concentrate on him. ‘You were crying in your sleep and it was obviously a terrifying experience. I’ve heard that it helps to talk,’ he added stiffly, shrugging his shoulders in a gesture that indicated he had never been afraid in his life, let alone felt the need to confide his private emotions. Zac didn’t suffer from the same human frailties as normal people, Freya thought bleakly. He spent most of his waking hours at work and regarded sex as a recreational activity that occupied his nights until he could return to his office the following day.

      ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ she murmured as she dragged her gaze from him and stared down at the bedcovers. She wondered what he would say if she revealed that she had been dreaming about him, not the accident, and that he had been the cause of her tears. He would be out of her room like a rabbit out of a trap, she thought grimly. Two years ago he had made it plain that he only wanted a physical relationship with her and, if she was ever insane enough to respond to the unspoken invitation in his eyes, she would have to remember that the rules hadn’t changed.

      But she would not respond to him ever again, she told herself firmly, tensing when he moved closer to the bed. His eyes glittered with the flames of desire and for one terrifying moment she thought he was going to reach out and touch her, but instead he dropped a piece of paper into her lap.

      ‘The nurse is here to perform the mouth swabs, but I require your signature before she can take a sample from Aimee,’ he said bluntly. He moved away from the bed and stood with his back to her, staring out of the window while she quickly scanned the document. It seemed straightforward, but her heart was pounding as she added her signature. Now there was no going back. In ten days’ time Zac would learn the truth, but how would he react when he was forced to accept that Aimee was his child?

      She glanced at Zac’s stern profile and bit her lip as she felt herself softening a little. He was a proud man and he was going to hate learning that he had been wrong about her.

      He must have felt her silent scrutiny and swung round to face her, his eyes narrowing. ‘Having second thoughts, Freya? I thought you might when you were faced with the reality of the paternity test,’ he said coolly. ‘But I want this test and if you refuse to give your permission, I’ll go through the courts to get it. At the moment you’re a loose cannon from my past, but once I have incontrovertible proof that you are a liar I’ll take out a legal injunction if necessary to prevent you from ever approaching me or repeating your fantastic claims.’

      Freya waved her signature at him furiously as the soft feeling vanished and was instantly replaced by a strong desire to commit murder—his. ‘Far from having second thoughts, I was wishing I’d demanded a test as soon as Aimee was born,’ she retorted. ‘You’ve vilified and insulted me once too often, Zac, and the only thing that prevents me from slapping that smug expression from your face is the knowledge that the day will soon come when you’ll fall from your lofty pedestal and have to acknowledge that you’re a mere mortal like the rest of us—not the superior being you think you are.’

      The glinting fury in his eyes warned her that she had pushed him too far, and she shrank back against the pillows when he snatched the consent form from her fingers and leaned over her, his hands on either side of her head. ‘It appears that my meek little English mouse has developed a sharp tongue. Be careful it doesn’t get you into trouble, chérie,’ he warned dangerously as he lowered his head and captured her mouth in a stinging kiss that forced her head back. He took without mercy, dominating her with insulting ease and demanding that she part her lips for him so that he could slide his tongue deep into her mouth to continue his sensual punishment.

      Freya’s muscles locked and her mind screamed at her to reject him, but her body had a will of its own and she could feel its traitorous response as molten heat surged through her veins. Torn between hunger and humiliation, she groaned and he captured her despairing cry, grinding his lips on hers to prevent its escape. When he finally lifted his head she was beyond words and closed her eyes against the contempt she was sure she would see in his. She heard him swear savagely beneath his breath and tensed, waiting for the taunts that would surely follow, but there was nothing and at the slam of the bedroom door she lifted her lashes to find that he had gone.

      Zac’s visit had left Freya physically and emotionally drained and she lay back on the pillows, telling herself that she would get up in five minutes and go and check on Aimee. When she next woke up, sunshine was streaming into her room and she stared at the clock, horrified to see that it was midmorning. How could she have slept for so long and not paid a single thought to her daughter? she berated herself angrily, but as she was about to get up she heard the sound of Aimee’s high-pitched laughter and a moment later the nanny Zac had employed put her head round the door.

      ‘Oh, you’re awake. I’ve someone here who wants to see you,’ Jean Lewis announced cheerfully as she opened the door wider and Aimee trotted into the room.

      ‘Mrs Lewis, I’m so sorry, I never meant to sleep for so long,’ Freya said quickly. She couldn’t imagine what the nanny must think of her, but the older woman smiled reassuringly.

      ‘It’s Jean,’ she said firmly, ‘and of course you must sleep. Mr Deverell explained about your accident—it must have been a dreadful experience and, apart from your injuries, you’re probably still in shock. Aimee’s such a happy little girl and luckily she took to me straight away. I promise you, I’ll take care of her as if she were my own,’ she assured Freya with a friendly smile. ‘If I were you, I’d spend the rest of the day in bed and I’ll arrange for your meals to be brought to you.’

      Freya didn’t have the strength to argue. It felt strange to be mothered after the years of indifference from her grandmother, she mused after she had played with Aimee for a while before Jean Lewis had taken the little girl off to explore the roof-garden. She had warmed to Jean’s kindness instantly and for the first time since Aimee’s birth she felt she could relax and trust that her baby would be well cared for.

      Over the next two days she began to appreciate Jean’s advice. The accident had taken its toll and she was shocked at how tired and emotional she felt. The sound of laughter from the nursery indicated that Aimee was perfectly happy with the nanny, and it made a welcome change to have a temporary reprieve from her responsibilities.

      To her relief she saw little of Zac. He had left for his office before she woke in the mornings and did not return until late in the evening. Some things hadn’t changed, she mused wryly as she recalled the long, lonely days she had spent when she had lived with him, waiting for him to return from his office or one of his frequent business trips.

      A few times he had taken her abroad with him. Deverell’s owned stores in several European cities as well as New York, Rio de Janeiro and Dubai, but although the scenery was different her life had followed a similar pattern that had revolved around Zac and his hectic schedule.

      She had been nothing more than a sex slave, she thought dismally, but innate honesty forced