Bargaining with the Billionaire. Robyn Donald

      His face hardened even further. ‘Your concern for her welfare does you credit, although I’d believe in it more if you weren’t jeopardising my sister’s marriage without any apparent qualm.’

      ‘I tell you, I didn’t realise—’

      He interrupted with a coldly determined, ‘I’m not interested in what you knew or realised, or even whether you set a honey trap for Ian. It’s not relevant. And neither is my relationship with Anna.’

      For some reason this blunt statement cut deeply. Peta flashed, ‘Or only in so far as it makes me look like a woman on the make, one who doesn’t care who she hurts.’

      ‘Exactly. Concentrate on convincing Ian that you took one look at me and decided to go for the big money.’ Curt’s smile was a masterpiece of cold cynicism. ‘No man likes to be played for a fool by a gold-digger.’

      Bewildered, she thought that he shouldn’t be able to wound her with such accurate, painful precision. Normally she gave as good as she got; after that insult she had to drag in a painful breath before persisting stubbornly, ‘It won’t work. I mean—’ she gestured at herself ‘—we don’t have anything in common. Ian won’t believe it.’

      He gave a short, surprised laugh. ‘You’re not my usual type,’ he agreed suavely, ‘but Ian’s a man, and what you’re offering is pretty obvious. He’ll be jealous, but he won’t be surprised if I take you up on it.’

      Enraged, Peta said, ‘You—you arrogant bastard!’

      ‘But rich,’ he returned with silky derision. ‘And for Ian, that’s all that’s going to matter. As for your clothes, I can fix that.’

      Instant suspicion darkened her eyes. ‘How?’ If he thought she was going into debt at Kowhai Bay’s boutique for clothes she’d never wear again, he had another think coming.

      ‘A quick trip to Auckland will provide you with a suitable wardrobe to enhance your not inconsiderable assets.’

      Although his deliberate tone chilled her and his hard blue-grey gaze remained fixed on her face, she knew that he’d catalogued every one of those assets. Shamed by a furtive tingle of arousal, she stiffened her shoulders. ‘I can’t afford a make over.’

      ‘I shall, of course, pay.’

      A niggle of pain throbbed in Peta’s temple, but she met his eyes without flinching. ‘You won’t, because I won’t do it. The whole idea is impossible—ridiculous.’ In her steadiest voice she added the clincher. ‘We don’t even like each other.’

      His brows rose. ‘Liking,’ he said indifferently, ‘has nothing to do with this sort of relationship.’

      Peta shook her head. Although she had her pick of scathing observations, spitting any of them out would reveal how much his high-handed attitude hurt her, so she took refuge in silence.

      Curt waited, then finished, ‘And after seeing us dance together at the marae no one will be surprised.’

      Humiliated pride slashed her composure to shreds. Some hidden part of her had been cherishing the memory of that dance with its reckless undercurrent of carnality. Had he been planning this then?

      Of course he had, she thought furiously. Nadine was right; he was as cold-blooded as a shark.

      Curt waited until it was obvious she wasn’t going to answer before finishing, ‘So I’ll pick you up tonight.’

      ‘Tonight—oh, the barbecue.’ Head held high, she met his eyes defiantly. ‘I’m not going.’

      Although not a muscle in the big, lithe body moved, Peta’s senses reacted instantly to an unspoken threat. Adrenalin poured through her and she took an involuntary step backwards. Every sense alert, she forced herself to stand her ground, to meet ice-cold eyes and drag in a deep breath.

      The world went still. Into a silence so intense she felt it on her skin like a hammer, he said lethally, ‘I don’t hurt women.’

      ‘I don’t know that.’ Her heart pounded as though she’d run a marathon, but beneath the fear burned a bewildering exhilaration. For the first time he was looking at her as a person, not as a woman to be manipulated. And he didn’t like her fear.

      ‘You know it now.’ His lips barely moved.

      Eyes huge in her face, she steeled herself to say, ‘I have only your word for it. Why should I believe you when you don’t believe me?’

      ‘Believe it.’

      She stared at him, then slowly nodded. ‘For some strange reason,’ she admitted, ‘I do. But just in case I’m wrong, you believe that I don’t like being threatened.’

      Curt shrugged, but colour along his warrior’s cheekbones belied his controlled tone. ‘You say you don’t want Ian to fall in love with you. A relationship between us will kill his affection faster than anything else. Yes, you’ll look like a woman on the make. That, surely, is a small price to pay.’

      It made cold, hard sense. After all, what did she have to lose? Only her pride. She bit her lip and said resentfully, ‘All right. Except that this is a fake relationship.’

      ‘Of course,’ he said contemptuously. ‘Think of this whole business as a sharp warning to keep your eyes off married men in the future.’

      The unfairness of the accusation stung. ‘I didn’t—’

      ‘I saw a photograph of the two of you together,’ he interrupted, his tone scathing. ‘Ian’s hand was touching your cheek in what was definitely a caress. And you weren’t saying no.’

      The memory of the pigeon, spooked by something in the plum tree, flashed across Peta’s mind. ‘Who took it?’ she demanded. Surely not Gillian?

      ‘A visiting kid with a new digital camera was trying to get a photograph of the bird. Instead, she got that photo, followed by one of the bird as it flew out of the tree. By then you were both looking at the camera.’

      Peta swallowed. ‘If she’d waited a second longer she’d have got a photograph of me leaving in haste. And I’ve made sure I haven’t seen him alone since then.’

      One black brow lifted in ironic disbelief. ‘Until this morning,’ he drawled.

      Clearly, he was never going to give her even the slightest benefit of the doubt—for him, there was no doubt. He was arrogantly convinced she’d decided to go after Ian and in pursuit of her own advantage, to hell with Gillian’s happiness or anything else.

      She said desperately, ‘Curt, this won’t work. It takes more than acting to fool people.’

      ‘Acting?’

      Intuition told her what was going to happen next. Run! a despairing inner voice commanded, but an even older instinct locked her muscles so that when he pulled her into his arms she made no attempt to escape the inevitable.

      ‘I don’t think we’ll need to act,’ he said smoothly, and bent his head and kissed her.

      It was a blatant act of mastery, possessive and angry, yet when Peta tried to resist, her body refused to accept the commands of her brain. Any other man who crowded her like this would have taken a fist in the solar plexus followed by a knee to his most sensitive region. Instead, treacherous desire and a fierce curiosity kept her prisoner until his kiss worked a barbaric enchantment.

      A low sound in her throat startled her; her mouth softened beneath the demanding insistence of his, and an overwhelming tide of passion hit her, so fiercely elemental that it shocked her into surrender.

      She had no idea how much later Curt lifted his head. Hugely reluctant, she opened her eyes, flinching when the glitter in his was replaced by a taunt.

      ‘I don’t think either of us will have to do much acting,’ he said with cool confidence as he let her go.

      Mortified,