The Gold Collection. Maggie Cox

not possibly still be in love with him now, she reassured herself. The feelings he stirred in her were purely sexual. Although she hated herself, she wanted him with the same urgency that had consumed her when she had been his mistress. But she no longer believed in fairy tales, she would not mistake her physical awareness of him for a deeper emotion, and she certainly would not give in to this feverish need to allow him to make love to her.

      Buoyed up by her newfound confidence that she could deal with Zac Deverell and his magnetic charm, Freya wandered through the lounge and out onto the wide balcony. Monaco was truly a billionaire’s paradise, she mused as she stared down at the rows of luxury yachts and motor cruisers moored in the harbour. Zac enjoyed a glamorous lifestyle exclusive to the super-rich, but she had never felt comfortable with his wealth or fitted in with his friends.

      In her heart she had always known that he was not the kind of man who would settle for a life of domestic bliss. Zac was an adventurer who lived life close to the edge with his love of extreme sports like sky-diving or power-boat racing. He got a buzz from pushing himself to the limits and playing happy families wasn’t part of his game plan, as his rejection of her and their baby had demonstrated. In a few days he would learn that Aimee was his daughter, but she doubted he would sacrifice any part of his life for a child he didn’t want.

      With a heavy sigh she lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes as the late-afternoon sunshine warmed her skin. After weeks of rain back in England, it felt wonderful, but her relaxed mood was shattered by a familiar voice from behind her.

      ‘There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you,’ Zac said, unable to disguise his impatience that she hadn’t been instantly at his beck and call. ‘I see you’re keeping busy.’

      Freya’s eyes flew open and she glared at him indignantly. ‘Aimee’s having a nap and I had nothing to do for five minutes. You insisted that I should stay here,’ she continued crossly when he said nothing. ‘It’s not my fault that there’s nothing for me to do.’ Her words were an eerie echo of the rows they used to have in the past, brought on by her loneliness and boredom and his refusal to cut down on his work schedule to spend time with her. Back then their arguments had ended with him sweeping her off to the bedroom to make love to her—and her capitulating at the first touch of his hands on her body, Freya thought grimly. But then she had given in too easily and now things were very different.

      ‘Laurent informs me that you seem better today,’ Zac murmured as his eyes skimmed over her in blatant appreciation of her tight-fitting jeans and tee shirt. ‘You certainly look good, chérie, although I can see that your injured wrist still prevents you from putting on your underwear,’ he added silkily.

      Blushing furiously, Freya followed his gaze to the firm line of her breasts revealed beneath her thin cotton shirt and felt a tingling sensation as her nipples peaked provocatively beneath his stare. Electricity zinged between them and, despite the warmth of the sun, she shivered as each of her nerve endings flared into urgent life. With an angry murmur she swung away from him and stared out at the endless expanse of cobalt-blue sea.

      ‘I am feeling better, and my wrist is already less painful—so much so that there’s really no reason for me to stay here any longer. I’ve decided to take Aimee back to England while we wait for the test results,’ she said.

      ‘I’m afraid I can’t allow that,’ Zac said pleasantly, but she caught the underlying note of steel in his voice and her temper flared.

      ‘Can’t allow it? Who do you think you are, Zac? I’m not your prisoner.’

      ‘Certainly not.’ He sounded insulted at the idea. ‘You are my guest, although I admit that I took the liberty of locking your and Aimee’s passports in my desk—in case you should lose them,’ he added when she looked as though she were going to explode.

      The breeze lifted her hair and blew the soft strands across his face, leaving behind the faint scent of lemons. Desire coiled low in his gut, but he resisted the urge to slide his fingers into her hair and carefully moved away from her. ‘It suits me to keep you here until I have the results of the test,’ he continued harshly, ‘and then I shall personally escort you out of Monaco and out of my life, chérie. Until then I have a job for you, which should keep you occupied for a few hours at least.’

      ‘You know what you can do with your damn job,’ Freya choked, desperate to hide her devastation that he still had the ability to hurt her. Angry tears stung her eyes and she dashed them away with the back of her hand before swinging round to face him. ‘You may have forced me to stay here, but you can’t make me spend my time with you, let alone work for you.’

      His mocking smile sent a frisson of alarm down her spine and she stepped back until she was jammed up against the balcony railings when he walked purposefully towards her. ‘You should know by now that I can do whatever I like,’ he said with breathtaking arrogance. ‘And I’m not setting you to work down a salt mine. I’m having dinner tonight with an American businessman, Chester Warren, and his wife, followed by an evening at the Opera House to watch a performance by the Monte Carlo Ballet Company. My PA was supposed to be accompanying me but she’s unwell. Francine is pregnant,’ he told her with a grimace, ‘and it seems that she suffers from morning sickness in the evenings.’

      ‘Poor thing.’ Freya nodded, forgetting her anger for a moment as she sympathised with Zac’s PA. ‘I was sick morning, noon and night for weeks when I was pregnant with Aimee.’ She tailed to a halt beneath Zac’s hard stare and a surge of bitterness flooded through her. Those first weeks after she had returned to England, pregnant, penniless and alone, had been the worst of her life as she had struggled with constant nausea and faced up to her future as a single mother. She had missed Zac desperately and begun every day hoping that he would realise he had made a mistake, and every night crying herself to sleep because he hadn’t come for her. How dared he look at her with that faintly bored expression that told her he was completely disinterested in reminiscences about her pregnancy, when she had been carrying his child! ‘I still don’t understand what your PA’s problems have to do with me,’ she muttered stiffly.

      ‘I need someone to take Francine’s place tonight—you,’ he confirmed, when she glared at him suspiciously. ‘It will actually work out very well. Chester’s wife Carolyn is English and I’m sure you’ll be able to keep her entertained while Chester and I discuss business.’

      ‘But…what do you expect me to talk to her about?’ Freya asked, unable to hide the faint panic in her voice. She had never been good at small talk and trying to make conversation with people she’d never met before had been one of the things she’d hated when she had lived with Zac.

      He shrugged his shoulders impatiently. ‘I don’t know. I’m sure you can swap stories about shopping in Bond Street or something.’

      ‘Oh, yes—because I do that all the time.’ She shook her head in exasperation. ‘Zac, I honestly think that you and I come from different planets. I struggle to pay my bills and buy basic necessities while you live here in your gilded tower and have no idea of the real world.’

      He didn’t appear to be listening and had already swung away from her. Bristling with anger, she followed him into the lounge and stopped just inside the doorway, blinking as she stepped out of the bright sunlight on the balcony. ‘I’m not coming with you. Find someone else to entertain your businessman and his wife.’ She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him belligerently, frowning when he handed her a large flat box with the name of a well-known couture house on the front. ‘What is this?’

      ‘Something for you to wear tonight,’ he replied blandly, seemingly unconcerned by her simmering temper or her refusal to accompany him to dinner.

      Freya stared down at the box, her heart suddenly beating at twice its normal rate. ‘You bought me a dress?’ she said slowly, hating herself for the little thrill of pleasure she gained from the idea that he had taken time out of his busy schedule to go shopping for her.

      ‘Actually, no, I gave Francine a rough idea of your size and she picked out a suitable outfit,’ Zac instantly burst her bubble and she fell back to