Bedded by Blackmail / Millionaire's Secret Seduction: Bedded by Blackmail / Millionaire's Secret Seduction. Robyn Grady

up. “Sounds as if he was an expert at befriending vulnerable women. A real predator.”

      “The doctors had given her a few months more to live but she died sooner than expected.”

      “And Romeo didn’t get a slice of the pie.”

      Her throat constricted. She wouldn’t tell Tristan the whole story. He didn’t need to hear how she’d been accused of murdering her own mother. It was just too ugly. “After a lot of soul-searching, I decided to gift him ten thousand dollars from the estate.”

      Tristan looked disappointed. “Ella, you’re not even sure you share the same father. Even if you do, he shouldn’t have expected anything from your mother’s estate.”

      “My lawyer said the same. But right now I don’t have any desire to go through the ordeal of finding out if we are related, and the money was something I felt compelled to give.” She half shrugged. “I guess to settle my conscience and be done with it.”

      There was no right answer, just the memory of her father and what he might have done.

      “I’m surprised he hasn’t hassled you,” Tristan said.

      “Those types usually don’t know when to back down.”

      A chill crawled up her spine. She had the urge to check over her shoulder, but she shucked it off and instead announced, “It’s all in the past now.”

      The waiter took dessert orders and the rest of the evening they spoke about Tristan’s work—the same important project he needed to discuss with the mayor. Ella was sorry when the evening ended and they arrived back home.

      As they moved through the garage door into the kitchen, she put her bag on the counter and turned around. Tristan stood close behind her, his expression unreadable, his presence overpowering…his kissable mouth almost too close to resist.

      Pressing her palms against her jumping stomach, Ella manufactured an easy smile. “Can I get you anything before we go to bed?”

      She withered down to her shoes.

      Bad choice of words.

      “Thanks, no.” His brow pinched. “But there’s some-thing I want to ask you, Ella. I have a function to attend next weekend. A black-tie affair. I wondered if you’d like to come.”

      The flock of butterflies she’d been holding released in her stomach. Was he asking her on a real date? Her? Little Miss Ordinary?

      “There’s a bigwig in property analysis going,” he went on. “I’d like the chance to speak with him in a more relaxed setting, but it’s a couples only night. Would you mind helping me out? After tonight, I realize you’d make the perfect companion for that kind of thing.” He laughed softly. “I’ll try not to make it too boring for you.”

      She closed her parted lips and willed the silly stinging from behind her nose.

      So this was a business proposition?

      Well, of course it was. Ridiculous for her to think anything else. Next weekend he wanted a date who was polite, presentable and knew her place. A platonic someone who wouldn’t interfere with the business he wanted to discuss.

      The housekeeper in her glad rags.

      But she was being overly sensitive, she thought. Tristan was only being honest and it wasn’t as if she had anything better to do.

      Her lips curved. “Sure. I don’t mind helping out.”

      “Excellent.” He smiled but she glimpsed something else swimming in the depths of his eyes.

      No, that was pure fantasy. The only stars in this room were in her eyes and she needed to see clearly or she was in danger of being hurt—and it wouldn’t be Tristan’s fault, but hers for being so silly.

      And yet Tristan continued to hold her eyes with his, then his head slanted and he came a step closer. When he reached for her, Ella stiffened and her surroundings seemed to recede and dim. But he didn’t kiss her. Rather he touched her left earring, his hand near her neck warming the skin.

      His voice was husky, deep. “I’ve wanted to say all night…these are very becoming.”

      Could he hear her heart thumping? “They’re not real,” she managed to say.

      “Pity. Diamonds would suit you.” His gaze lingered, over her ear, down her jaw, along her trembling lips, causing a fire to flicker up her neck and light her cheeks. For a moment she thought he might lean forward and touch his lips to hers, that he might take her in his arms and kiss her as she’d dreamed so often that he would.

      The possibility seemed to hang between them, real and weighted with temptation, but then he merely smiled and moved away.

      “Good night, Ella,” he said over his shoulder.

      She let out her breath on a quiet sigh. “Good night.”

      She was about to float off to her bedroom when the kitchen extension rang. Tristan had gone, perhaps already on the stairs that led to his bedroom. She’d take a message. Nothing could be that important this late on a Saturday night.

      “Tristan Barkley’s residence.” She waited but no reply. “Hello.” Ella frowned. “Anyone there?”

      As the clock on the wall ticked out the seconds, in a dark recess of her mind she imagined the hand clutch-ing the other receiver. Had a flash of the face smirking at her irritation.

      Slamming the phone down, she tried to catch her sudden shortness of breath. She touched her brow and felt the damp sheen of panic.

      But she was overreacting. It was the talk of Scarpini over dinner and the fact the inheritance had come through that had her jumping to conclusions. That call had merely been a wrong number.

      Still, before going to bed, she checked the back door—not once but twice.

      Chapter Three

      The following Thursday morning, Tristan swung out from behind his desk to greet his brother, who was striding into the city penthouse suite. Tristan clapped his arms around Josh and they gave each other a hearty hug.

      When they broke apart, Josh jokingly tried to spin Tristan around. “Do you ever leave this office? I think you might be growing roots.”

      Tristan laughed, always happy to see his younger, wisecracking brother, who many people mistook for his twin. “Just because you’re in love, doesn’t mean the rest of the world grinds to a stop.”

      Josh’s dimples deepened. “You sure about that?”

      Tristan pretended to cringe. “Ooh, you have it bad.”

      “Bad enough to propose.”

      Tristan’s jaw dropped. “Marriage?”

      “Even got down on one knee.”

      Tristan took Josh’s hand and shook with gusto. “Congratulations. That’s wonderful, just…unexpected. How long have you and Grace been dating?”

      Looking every bit the high-powered executive in his tailored business suit, Josh crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. “Three months and I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. Grace and I are meant to be. I can’t wait to make her my wife.”

      Just yesterday it seemed Josh had been captain of the under-nines football team and had scrunched his nose up at girls’ cause they smelled funny. Now he was tying the knot? Tristan ushered Josh over to the wet bar. This news deserved a toast.

      He found two glasses. “If you can’t wait to exchange rings, I can’t wait to welcome her into the family.”

      For some reason, an image of Ella came to mind—the sound of her soft laughter the other night, the subtle yet alluring scent of her skin. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been more relaxed with a woman over dinner. Guess