Australian Millionaires. Maxine Sullivan

spoke first. “Here, let’s get you dressed,” he said brusquely and gently closed her legs.

      “Oh, but …” She could feel her cheeks growing red as he passed her bra. “I mean … urn … aren’t we going to …?”

      “Make love? Not yet.” He stood up and helped her off the desk as intense disappointment swept through her. She went to turn away, but he held her still. “My place. Seven o’clock.”

      She blinked. “To-tonight?”

      “Yes.” He ran a finger across her lips, his eyes a mixture of need and still-deep anger. “No more waiting. For either of us. And I can’t do everything I want to do to you in the office.”

      She swallowed, suddenly panicked by the magnitude of it all. He overwhelmed her. He made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. Made her do things she wanted to do.

      “No, I can’t. I—”

      “I’ve put my stamp on you now, Kia. You can’t deny that.”

      She sucked in a shaky breath, very much aware he was right. “Brant, this was just a … brief interlude.”

      “It was a prelude,” he insisted, putting his hand under her chin. “You were ready for me a minute ago,” he reminded her, and she almost dissolved again.

      “Yes, well …” She cleared her throat. “That was then. This is now.”

      His eyes darkened dangerously. “Kia, we should have been lovers weeks ago.”

      Her shoulders tensed. She could see his anger over Phillip still simmering beneath the surface. “Even if you hadn’t thought I was with Phillip, it doesn’t mean—”

      “Yes, it does,” he cut across her. “Have no doubts, Kia. We would have been lovers. You’re only fooling yourself if you think otherwise.”

      To prove it, his hands slid around her waist and brought her close. Her body immediately arched against him, her near-naked curves tucking in against his hard contours. Heat rippled under her skin and jolted her mind into the realization that once again he was right. She pushed herself away, and thankfully he let her go, but the smoldering look in his eyes said it all.

      Trying to maintain her composure, she hurried around the desk to get the rest of her clothes, feeling exposed in more ways than one. His gaze remained on her, watching her every move, and she silently shuddered as she dressed as fast as she could.

      “Kia.”

      She did up the last button, then looked up at him. The hunger in his eyes sent a tremor through her.

      “You owe this to yourself,” he growled, challenge in his voice.

      Kia made her way back to her office on shaky legs and collapsed onto her chair. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Had she really let herself be taken in such a way? No man had made love to her with his mouth before, though she knew it was an aspect of lovemaking that most couples enjoyed. Dear God, now she could see why.

      What she hadn’t expected was to come apart in Brant’s hands quite the way she had. Where was her control? Her self-respect? She’d known she was a challenge to him. That he only wanted her body. So what had she done? She’d handed herself to him on a platter, that’s what.

      Or a desk, she corrected, feeling a blush rising up from the tips of her toes. How could she hold her head high now? Suddenly she knew she had to get out of there. She’d earned the right to leave early … in more ways than one.

      Jumping to her feet, she grabbed her handbag and headed for the door. If she remained here alone with Brant, he might be tempted to take up where they’d left off and not wait for tonight.

      Tonight.

      You owe this to yourself, he’d said.

      He was right, yet how could she turn up at his place when he thought she was a gold digger? Had thought it from the start. A woman who was mercenary enough to use men for her own advantage. That hurt.

      So why did her heart turn over at the thought of not making love with Brant?

      Brant tossed the pencil on the desk. He needed to get these reports out, but his mind kept dropping back to Kia. Could he accept she wasn’t a gold digger? Her answers had made sense, but isn’t that what con artists did? They conned you into believing what they wanted you to believe.

      And all these weeks she’d been living a lie by pretending to be involved with Phillip. Had even let herself become engaged to him. Just as Julia had lived a lie. Until she’d run off with his own brother.

      Hell. He thought he’d been hearing things when Kia had told Lynette she didn’t love Phil the way a woman should love a man. She’d lied to him, dammit. He’d asked her straight out if she loved her fiancé and she’d said yes.

      Why? Because she knew he’d have her in bed in no time, that’s why. She wouldn’t be able to help herself. She’d wanted to make love with him, too.

      Yet how different she’d been to the experienced women he usually bedded. Women who proudly strutted their stuff. Women who took the initiative, the way he liked. Women who hadn’t shattered in his arms as Kia had. Her passion, her innocence in this way, convinced him she hadn’t been with a man or come alive under a man’s mouth in years. That was something in her favor. Surely a gold digger wouldn’t hesitate to use her body to get men to fall in love with her? Oh, hell. He just didn’t know what to think anymore.

      What he did know was that she’d been perfect. Had tasted better than perfect. It’s the reason he’d held himself in check and not taken her fully as he’d ached to do. He wanted to love her slowly, take his time, make up for all those weeks of aching. Tonight he’d brand her with his body and make her his.

      When he opened the door to his penthouse that evening, Brant almost forgot to breathe. The soft blue material of Kia’s dress bared her tanned shoulders and arms and fell lovingly over the length of her body to just above her knees, in a simple design that would have looked plain on another woman. Yet on her it looked stunning. She couldn’t look unattractive if her life depended on it.

      He stepped back to allow her to enter. “Relax. I’m not going to ravish you on the spot,” he said, even if the thought was more than tempting.

      She moved past him in a cloud of perfume that was endlessly alluring, then stopped in the middle of the room and faced him, the light of battle entering her eyes. “That’s a relief,” she quipped, a becoming flush staining her cheeks.

      He closed the door, knowing he could always count on her to be defiant even in the most difficult of circumstances. And this had to be the most difficult for her ever. But her uncertainty didn’t change a thing. They would make love tonight.

      “Take a seat while I pour you a drink.” He gestured to the black leather sofa. “Gin and tonic, right?”

      “Extra large.”

      “Oh, no, you don’t,” he drawled. “I don’t want you to forget a moment of tonight. I certainly don’t intend to.”

      She moistened her lips. “Brant, I think this is a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.”

      “It isn’t a mistake. It’s called being grown-up. It’s about being adults over a situation that we both clearly need to address.”

      Her chin rose in the air. “I thought it was more childlike when you give in and take what you want.”

      “Ah, so you admit you want me,” he said as he poured the drinks at the bar.

      She glared at him. “I think we should leave things as they are. My being here will only complicate matters.”

      He picked up the glasses of liquid and walked toward her. “A complication I’ll willingly embrace, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

      She ignored