Blackmailed by the Rich Man: In the Millionaire's Possession / Blackmailed Into Marriage / Bedded by Blackmail

Suddenly she wanted to wind herself around him, her arms twined about his neck, her slim legs gripping his lean hips. And realised, swiftly and starkly, the danger she was in.

As Marc’s mouth sought hers she turned her head swiftly, so that his lips grazed only her cheek.

‘Marc.’ She tried to free herself, forcing a laugh. ‘People are watching.’

He looked down into her face, his mouth hardening. ‘Then that is easily remedied,’ he told her softly. He lifted her effortlessly into his arms and began to carry her towards the house.

Colour stormed her face as she heard faint whistles and laughing applause from the workmen, but common sense warned her that to struggle would only make her look even more ridiculous.

Once inside, she expected to be put on her feet, but Marc carried her straight up the main staircase and along to the State Bedroom.

She said breathlessly, ‘What the hell are you doing? Let me down at once.’

À votre service, mademoiselle.’ His voice was cold, almost grim, as he strode across the room to the bed. Gasping, Helen found herself carelessly dropped in the middle of the wide bare mattress.

She fought herself into a sitting position, glaring at him as he stood over her, hands on hips. ‘How dare you treat me like this? If you imagine I’m impressed by these—caveman tactics—then think again.’

‘I should not say too much,’ he told her with ominous quietness. ‘It is nothing to what I would like to do to you. And will,’ he added harshly, ‘if you refuse my kisses again, in public or in private, no matter what grudge you may be harbouring.’

She bit her lip, avoiding the starkness of his dark gaze. ‘You—you took me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you.’

‘Évidemment,’ he said caustically. ‘Is that why you are not wearing my ring?’

Of course he would have to notice that!

‘I’m living on a building site,’ Helen returned a touch defensively. ‘I didn’t want it to get lost or damaged.’

He gave her a sceptical glance. ‘Or did it remind you too much of how soon you will be my wife?’

She bit her lip. ‘What do you expect—eager anticipation?’

‘No,’ he said softly. ‘But if not a welcome—a little cooperation, perhaps?’

Before she could move she felt his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back on to the mattress again. Then, lifting himself lithely on to the bed beside her, he pulled her close, and his lips began to explore her mouth with cool, almost languorous pleasure.

Taking, she realised, all the time in the world.

Her hands came up against his chest, trying to maintain at least some distance between them, but that was all the resistance she dared attempt. His warning still rang in her mind, and she knew she could not afford to provoke him again. She would have been wiser to offer him her lips in front of everyone just now rather than risk this.

She was too vulnerable, she thought, shut away with him here in this room they’d soon be sharing. And, because they were known to be together, no one would be tactless enough to come looking for them. No one…

The midday sun was pouring in through the high windows, lapping them in heated gold.

She seemed to be sinking helplessly, endlessly, down into the softness of the bed, her lips parting in spite of herself to answer the sensuous pressure of his mouth, to yield to the silken invasion of his tongue.

Inside her thin shirt, her breasts were suddenly blossoming in greedy delight as his kiss deepened in intensity. Her hardening nipples seemed tormented by the graze of the lacy fabric that enclosed them, aching to be free of its constriction.

As if she’d moaned her yearning aloud, she felt his hand begin gently to unfasten the buttons on her shirt.

She lay still, scarcely breathing, the sunlight beating on her closed eyelids, her pulses frantic, waiting—waiting…

Marc was kissing her forehead, brushing the soft hair away from her temples with his lips, discovering the delicate cavity of her ear with his tongue, then feathering caresses down her arched throat to the scented hollow at its base, where he lingered.

His fingers slid inside the open neck of her shirt, pushing it and the thin strap beneath away from her shoulder.

Then he bent his head, and she experienced for the first time the delicious shock of a man’s lips brushing the naked swell of her breast above the concealing lace of her bra, and knew that she wanted more—so much more that it scared her.

She made a small sound, half-gasp, half-sob. For a moment he was very still, then suddenly, unbelievably, she felt him lift himself away from her.

When she had the power to open her dazed eyes she saw that he was standing beside the bed, almost briskly tucking his own shirt back into the waistband of his pants.

‘Je suis désolé,’ he said. ‘But I have arranged to see Alain for his progress report, and I am already late.’

Helen felt as if she’d been hit by a jet of freezing water. She scrambled up on to her knees, feverishly cramming her shirt buttons back into their loops. Restoring herself to decency with a belated attempt at dignity.

Her voice shook a little. ‘I apologise if I’ve caused you any inconvenience.’

‘Au contraire,’ he said, his smile glinting at her. ‘Tu es touteravissante.’

Anger began to mingle with shock inside her as she met his gaze. The victor, she thought stormily, with his spoils. And she’d nearly—nearly—let him…

She should have been the one to draw back, not him, she realised with shame. Oh, God, how could she have been such a fool?

He paused, glancing at his watch. ‘But the report should not take long,’ he went on softly, outrageously. ‘Perhaps you would like to wait here for my return?’

‘No,’ Helen said between her teeth. ‘I would not.’

One of her shoes had fallen off, and she began to search for it with her bare foot.

‘Quel dommage,’ he commented. ‘I hoped you would show me round the rest of the house. Let me know what you think of the work that has been done so far and of any changes you would like to make.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Helen said icily, ‘but we no longer provide guided tours. And the only change I want is never to see you again.’

He had the gall to grin at her. ‘How fickle you are, cherie. When only a moment ago…’ He shrugged and gave an exaggerated sigh.

‘But your mention of tours has reminded me,’ he added more slowly. ‘As I drove here I met Madame Lowell in the village. She asked if you had told me of her husband’s offer to bless our marriage. I said you had not been able to contact me, but that it was a great kindness of Révérend Lowell, which we would be delighted to accept.’