The Gold Collection. Maggie Cox

for your convenience. I do have a life of my own, you know,’ she said sharply, her temper rising when he ignored her. Breathing hard, she glared at him, her brain barely registering the fact that he was unbuttoning his shirt. ‘Why are you doing this?’ she demanded angrily. ‘You don’t want me living here as some sort of permanent house guest any more than you want the responsibilities of a child.

      ‘Let me take Aimee home and I swear I’ll never contact you again. I don’t need you, Zac,’ she said thickly, knowing that the words were a lie. She needed him in the same way that she needed oxygen to breathe, but she wouldn’t allow her daughter to grow up feeling that she was an encumbrance in her father’s life. Aimee was already forming an emotional attachment to Zac and Freya couldn’t bear to see him hurt her with his indifference.

      ‘Perhaps you don’t, but what about Aimee’s needs?’ Zac asked quietly. He deciphered the jumble of emotions on her face and felt a curious pain in his gut. After the way he had misjudged her, he supposed she had every right to mistrust his motives, but he didn’t like it. ‘My mother was shocked to discover that she has a granddaughter,’ he said, attempting to explain Yvette Deverell’s reaction to Aimee, ‘understandably so when she believed I would never have a child.’

      ‘You didn’t want a child,’ Freya pointed out sharply.

      ‘Non, but there were reasons…’

      ‘You mean the idea of fatherhood didn’t mix with your life as a jet-setting playboy,’ she agreed scathingly. ‘Aimee isn’t an accessory that you can pick up or set down when it suits you. She deserves to be loved.’

      ‘And I will love her—I already do,’ he vowed, his voice suddenly fierce. ‘I can provide her with everything she needs. I regret missing the first eighteen months of her life more than you will ever know and I will not miss another day. I don’t want to fight you, Freya—you’re her mother and she needs you, but she needs me too and I’ll fight through the courts if necessary to keep her here.’

      The floor swayed beneath Freya’s feet and all colour leached from her face. ‘You can’t be serious.’

      ‘I’ve never been more serious in my life,’ Zac assured her grimly.

      Freya shook her head, feeling as though it were going to explode. She had assumed that Zac would want as little contact as possible with his daughter and she could barely comprehend that he was prepared to fight a custody battle over her. And it was a battle he would surely win, she thought sickly. He could afford the best legal representation, who would argue that Aimee would want for nothing in his care.

      What could she offer in comparison? she brooded miserably, thinking of the life they led in England and her daily struggle to hold down a job and look after Aimee properly. Aimee would undoubtedly have a better life here in Monaco, but Zac couldn’t seriously expect her to put her life on hold and move in with him, could he?

      ‘I can understand that you want to build a relationship with Aimee and it would be in her best interest if you decide to be a proper father to her. But what role are you expecting me to play in your life?’ Freya’s voice faltered as she finally registered that he had removed his shirt and was in the process of unzipping his trousers.

      ‘I would have thought that was obvious,’ he drawled, trailing his eyes over her flushed face. ‘You will resume your role as my mistress. We’ve already proved that, on a physical level, we’re made for each other,’ he continued, overriding her gasp of outraged denial. ‘The sexual attraction between us is as explosive now as it was two years ago. I know now that you didn’t have an affair with Brooks and I can see no reason why I shouldn’t take you back in my bed.’ His trousers slid to the floor and he stepped out of them before strolling across the room towards her. ‘Obviously providing Aimee with a secure and stable upbringing is our main concern and the fact that we can enjoy a fantastic sex life is a bonus, wouldn’t you say, chérie?’

      Despite her fury at his arrogant assumption that she would gratefully accept his offer to grace his bed once more, Freya could not prevent her eyes from straying down to his boxers and her stomach tightened at the burgeoning proof of his arousal jutting unashamedly beneath the black silk. ‘You’ve got a nerve, Zac,’ she muttered, licking her suddenly dry lips. ‘Clearly, in your belief that you’re God’s gift, it hasn’t occurred to you that I don’t want to be your mistress. The idea is ridiculous. We’re totally incompatible. Zac! What are you doing?’ The last came out as a breathless gasp as he deftly shrugged out of his underwear.

      ‘Taking a shower—I didn’t have time earlier after my swim. Come and join me while we finish this fascinating conversation,’ he invited with a wolfish smile. His eyes gleamed from beneath heavy lids and the room suddenly throbbed with sexual tension that sent Freya scooting towards the door.

      ‘You must be joking,’ she choked, but her words were muffled against his shoulder as he swept her up into his arms as if she were a rag doll and strode purposefully into the en suite. ‘Zac, we’ll talk later…What is the point in this?’ she demanded when he activated the shower and stepped beneath the spray with her, still fully clothed and wriggling like an eel to escape him.

      ‘The point, my little vixen,’ he said as he trapped her flailing hands in one of his to prevent her raining blows on his chest, ‘is to prove that in certain areas, at least, we are completely compatible.’ His head descended and he claimed her mouth, silencing her furious words by kissing her into submission. He knew just how to please her, and he felt a jolt of satisfaction when the tight line of her lips suddenly parted and he was able to dip his tongue between them to explore the moist warmth of her mouth.

      Freya gave a helpless groan of protest that was lost beneath the pressure of his lips. Her body was still agonisingly aroused from earlier, when he had laid her across his desk. It had taken all her will-power to stop him from taking her and her senses were greedily snatching this second chance for fulfilment. The powerful spray had already soaked through her clothes and, without lifting his mouth from hers, Zac stripped her of her blouse and skirt. Only then did he trail his lips down her throat to her breasts, where he paused and flicked his tongue back and forth across one tight nipple and then the other until she cried out and felt a sharp tug of desire deep in her pelvis. She clung to his shoulders when he knelt before her and drew her knickers down. Water ran down his face and made his skin glisten and the sight of his dark head moving inexorably down to the triangle of blonde curls between her thighs filled her with a frantic sense of urgency that destroyed any thoughts she’d had of denying him.

      ‘Lift your leg,’ he growled, his voice thick and slurred with sexual promise as he pushed her gently up against the tiled shower wall and hooked her ankle over his shoulder. Now she was spread before him and he tenderly parted her with his long, clever fingers before dipping his tongue between the velvet folds of her femininity.

      Freya gave a muffled sob and dug her fingers into his hair as he explored her with a wicked intimacy that sent quivers of pleasure through her, building higher and higher until she was trembling with need. ‘Please, Zac…’ she implored him, but he ignored her and flicked his tongue over her clitoris in fierce, fast little movements that tipped her over the edge of ecstasy. She shuddered as her muscles clenched in wave after wave of exquisite sensation and in the throes of her climax he stood, lifted her into his arms and ordered her to wrap her thighs around him. Freya complied instantly, aware of nothing but the dictates of her body that still wanted more, and she closed her eyes on a shocked gasp when he penetrated her with one hard thrust.

      Last night he had been so blown away by her eager response to him that he had almost lost control, but this time Zac was determined to prove that he was her master. He cupped her bottom and drove into her with slow, steady strokes that filled her and made her arch her back as her pleasure built again. It was deeper this time, even more intense, and she clung to him, totally enslaved by his domination as he finally gave in to her desperate pleas and increased his pace, taking her hard and fast until she threw back her head and convulsed around him in an orgasm that shattered all her preconceived notions of sexual ecstasy.

      Freya sobbed his name and locked her ankles tightly around his back, but, instead