Millionaire Under The Mistletoe: The Playboy's Mistress / Christmas in the Billionaire's Bed / The Boss's Mistletoe Manoeuvres

Reece didn’t prevaricate. ‘Yes.’

Deep down she’d always known he didn’t live in the same world as she did. Darcy tried not to let her disappointment show; she’d been secretly hoping that Nick might have got it wrong. Now there was no point even dreaming this thing might be anything other than a one-night stand.

‘I suppose you’re famous too?’ she accused bitterly.

She made it sound as though he’d been concealing the fact he was wanted by Interpol. Reece had never met a female who had reacted in quite this way to his social position and wealth before.

‘Obviously not,’ he drawled, amusement in his voice.

‘Don’t be offended,’ she soothed absently. ‘I don’t read the financial pages.’

‘But Nick does?’

‘Hardly; he’s a sports journalist.’

Reece laughed. ‘I think you’re being a bit severe; I knew a sports writer once who had read a book.’

Darcy couldn’t summon the necessary smile to respond to his raillery. ‘Are you involved in property development? Is that why you came to the Hall?’

‘My company is involved in property development,’ Reece agreed, not mentioning that this property development didn’t include small country houses being renovated on a shoestring.

It did involve a string of brand-new hotels in various capitals of the world which the leisure arm of his empire now ran. A good many office complexes and several sports stadiums which had popped up all over Europe had also begun their existence on a drawing board in the Erskine Building—he didn’t mention this either.

‘Then you’re some sort of property developer…?’ she prodded.

‘That was one of the areas we’ve diversified into during the last few years.’

‘We?’

‘Well, it’s not a one-man show; my sister Kate is heavily involved in the running of the hotel chain, and my cousin Declan has just joined us. My kid brother has just finished his stint at Harvard, so hopefully he’ll—’

‘You told me you didn’t have a family!’ Darcy twitched her rear-view mirror and saw an almost comical grimace of dismay register on his drop-dead gorgeous features.

‘I did…?’ he echoed evasively.

‘Yes, you did.’

‘They’re a lovely bunch but a bit…overwhelming en masse—like at Christmas time. Don’t you ever wish you were an only child…?’

The encounter with Nick still fresh in her mind, Darcy found herself nodding. ‘When I’m around Nick, yes, I do.’

‘The guy’s only trying to protect you.’ Reece had a sister of his own, and a real headache she was too.

Darcy could hardly believe her ears—Reece, defending Nick of all people! ‘This male bonding is all very sweet but have you forgotten it’s you he wants to protect me from?’ she reminded him.

‘I’d not forgotten. I have this nasty feeling when he gets me alone he’s going to ask me what my intentions are.’

Did he really expect her to appreciate the humour of this remark? ‘He already knows. That’s the problem.’

She sensed his looking at her, and couldn’t stop herself taking her eyes off the road for a split-second…he was pushing an unruly hank of glossy almost black hair from his eyes. Did he always have to look so damned pleased with himself? she wondered, resenting the way just looking at him sent her temperature rocketing.

Reece would have been astonished if he’d been privy to her thoughts. He had rarely felt less complacent in his life; things were happening to him that he didn’t want or need—his eyes were drawn to the shell-like shape of her ear—cancel ‘didn’t need’. Every time he looked at this woman he needed with a capital N.

‘Perhaps he could tell me,’ he muttered under his breath.

‘Pardon?’

She wanted to know; well, he’d tell her! ‘I can’t look at your ear without wanting to whisper in it. I can’t look at your mouth—’

‘Stop!’ Darcy yelled, her stressed heart pumping out adrenalin like a pneumatic drill. ‘If you say things like that I’m likely to crash the car.’

‘In that case, wouldn’t it be far safer if you parked somewhere? Somewhere quiet and secluded would be good.’ From what he’d seen, that shouldn’t be too difficult—they’d barely passed another car.

Darcy broke out in a cold sweat. ‘You can’t say things like that to me!’ She could hardly hear herself speak above the frantic clamour of her heart.

Reece sighed. ‘I can’t not say things like that to you. Do you think it’s possible they’ve put something in the water…?’

‘I think it’s possible you’ve got nothing better to do than harass me,’ she responded weakly in a strangulated version of her own deep, husky voice.

‘Actually, I brought a heap of paperwork with me.’

‘I’m flattered no end.’

‘Do your boyfriends always have to work so hard?’

She could have said What boyfriends? but she didn’t want to reveal the disgraceful lack of sexual encounters in her work-orientated life. ‘You’re not a boy or my friend.’

‘I’m your lover.’

This man was the master of the one-liners; there was no doubt about it. Darcy dabbed the beads of sweat from the full outline of her upper lip with the tip of her tongue and tried to coax her respirations into a more manageable rate.

‘You’re my one-night stand,’ she bit back coldly. He would never know that this admission hurt her more than it did him. ‘Listen, I can see why you might think I’m up for…that I might want you to…’ Darcy’s voice dropped to an agonised whisper. ‘You know what I mean.’ Still he didn’t respond. ‘Last night wasn’t me…’

Even though her eyes remained rigidly fixed on the road, she could feel his eyes travelling over her body, her skin prickling in response to the unseen scrutiny.

‘I have to dispute that.’

The low rasp of his voice was like a caress, and she could picture his slow, sensual smile in her head. She ground her teeth in frustration.

‘I don’t normally act like that,’ she insisted.

‘Then last night was special…?’

‘Last night was mad, a mistake!’ she yelled. ‘I’m not passing judgement on people that do act like that, but it’s just not me.’

‘I think it is you.’

‘Haven’t you heard a thing I’ve said?’ she asked shrilly.