Australian Millionaires: The Millionaire's Seductive Revenge. Maxine Sullivan

her hand went to the diamonds circling her neck. Then she saw Brant’s jaw clench and the way his eyes burned her and she couldn’t help but think he was somehow angry over Phillip giving her the necklace.

      The policeman interrupted her thoughts by going on to suggest ways of tightening her security, including putting a bolt on the door and getting a dog.

      “Oh, but we do have a dog. I mean, the lady in the apartment next door has a dog.” Something occurred to her. “Oh, no. I wonder if he broke into June’s place, as well? The house has been divided in two, you see.” She swallowed. “Do you think you could check? She’s not home this weekend, thank goodness. She went to visit her sister and took Ralphie with her.”

      “I’ll go take a look around,” the younger policeman said after getting a nod from his boss, then nervously looked at Brant before leaving the room, as if glad to get out from under such a strong presence.

      The older policeman glanced at Kia. “Have you got someone to stay with you tonight, Miss Benton? Something like this can shake people up pretty bad.”

      “I’ll be staying with her,” Brant said before she could open her mouth.

      She shot to her feet. She couldn’t have Brant stay here. She just couldn’t. “I can look after myself. I don’t need anyone. I—”

      “What if he comes back?” Brant cut across her.

      The spew of words froze on her lips. Somehow she managed a short laugh. “He won’t. He got what he wanted.”

      “Did he?”

      She shivered and hugged her bare arms. “Stop it. You’re scaring me.”

      “Well, you should be bloody scared,” he said, straightening away from the sink. “You’ve got a door with a broken lock and no one close enough to hear you scream.” His jaw tautened, making him look dark and dangerous. “I’m staying.”

      How silly to feel relief. She should be more scared of Brant and her own attraction for him than of being robbed again. Only if the robber came back he might not only want to rob her. He might want more than that….

      “I really think that’s a good idea, Miss Benton,” the older policeman coaxed, looking at her in a fatherly fashion, reminding her that they weren’t alone.

      She swallowed deeply. “Yes, of course.”

      Right then the younger policeman stepped back into the kitchen, interrupting them. “Everything’s fine next door.” He shot a look at his boss. “Sarge, that call we were expecting just came through.”

      “Right.” The older man straightened and immediately put his notebook in his pocket. “We’ll be in touch,” he told them quickly, then was gone.

      A moment’s tense silence stretched between her and Brant, then she cleared her throat, determined to be as businesslike as possible. “I’ll get the couch ready for you.”

      Brant’s mouth twisted. “I doubt I’ll get much sleep on that two-seater in your loungeroom.”

      She felt as if her breath cut out. Was he asking to share her bed? Over her dead body.

      Well, maybe not her dead body, she mused, hurrying to the refrigerator to get a cool drink. “Isn’t that the point? To stay awake and protect me?” She lifted out the jug of cold water, almost tempted to hold it up to her forehead to cool herself down. “Anyway, it opens out to a sofa bed. You’ll have plenty of room.”

      He began loosening his tie. “Fine. I like being able to spread out.”

      “That must be a novelty for you,” she said before she could stop herself.

      The look in his eyes held a spark of eroticism. “You make it sound like there’s a woman in my bed every day.”

      She feigned ignorance. “You mean there isn’t?”

      “Sweetheart, I’m not married. I only let a woman in my bed when I’m looking for some affection.”

      “That’s what I said. Every day.” She placed the jug on the bench and walked toward the hallway door. “I’ll get you a blanket,” she said before he could respond. She had to get out of that room or she’d strangle him with her bare hands. Either that or smother him with one of the pillows she was about to get him.

      The ringing of the telephone next to him woke Brant with a start the next morning. It seemed as if he’d only just fallen asleep, having tossed and turned for most of the night, blaming the sofa but knowing it was because the sexiest woman alive lay in a bed not meters away from him, with only a thin wall between them.

      So he didn’t appreciate being woken now. “Yes?” he barked into the mouthpiece.

      A moment’s silence, then a man’s shocked voice came down the line. “Brant!”

      Brant’s eyes flew open. “Phil?”

      The other man sucked in a sharp breath. “What the hell? Where’s Kia?”

      “Look, it’s not what you think,” Brant growled, shooting to a sitting position and regaining his composure. “Someone broke into her place last night. I slept on the sofa so I could keep an eye on her, that’s all.”

      “Is she okay?” Phil asked, anxious now.

      “She was a bit shook up last night, but I’m sure she’ll be fine in the light of day.”

      He looked up and saw Kia standing in the doorway. Her blue eyes were sleepy, her blond hair sexily tousled, not a bit of makeup on her beautiful face as she wrapped the sash of a silky blue creation around her waist. She looked so bloody gorgeous he had to stop himself from throwing the phone down and ravishing her on the spot.

      “I’m glad you were there for her,” Phil said slowly, dragging Brant’s thoughts away from the woman in front of him. Phil still sounded depressed.

      “Phil, I’m sure she would rather have had you here,” he said, watching her eyes come fully awake at the mention of the other man’s name.

      “Is that Phillip?” she said, stepping into the room and hurrying toward him. In an instant Brant could feel her female heat coiling around him. Could hear the silky swish of her thighs. The soft gasps of her breath that came closer and closer. If he reached out, he might just be able to caress her.

      Instead he held out the phone. “Yeah, it’s Phil.”

      She snatched it to her and immediately turned her back on him. “Phillip? Did Brant explain what happened?” She gave a delicate shudder. “It was awful. I can’t believe someone would do this.” She listened for a moment, then said, “He broke the glass door. The police think …”

      She continued to talk, but Brant had stopped listening. And he’d almost stopped breathing. She didn’t know it, but with the morning sun streaming in the room he could see straight through her gossamer robe to the line of her buttocks. God, how he’d love to run his hands over them. They’d be so smooth to his touch.

      Giving a silent groan, he leaned his head back against the pillows and closed his eyes. Dammit, he had to stop this. She wasn’t worth the looking … the wanting….

      “Brant?”

      Did she have to say his name in such a husky voice? As if she was his lover, waiting for him to stir. The next thing she’d be reaching out to touch him….

      “Yes?” His voice sounded rough, like the night he’d just had.

      “Are you awake?”

      “No. I always talk in my sleep,” he mocked and opened his eyes. Disappointment rippled through him when he saw she’d moved out of the sunlight.

      Her mouth tightened. “That’s one thing I’ll never find out.”

      “No, you won’t, will you?” And suddenly it was the