Home > The Millionaire's Seductive Revenge (Australian Millionaires(15)

The Millionaire's Seductive Revenge (Australian Millionaires(15)
Author: Maxine Sullivan

“How’s my beautiful girl then?” a booming male voice came down the line.

The animation died on her face. Dear God, why did her father have to call now?

She forced herself to relax. “Hello, Dad.”

“You sound disappointed. Not expecting anyone else to call, were you? One of your many boyfriends, no doubt.”

“I’ve never been one for many boyfriends,” she said as calmly as she could. She wasn’t like him. She didn’t need adoration every minute of the day.

“A man friend then. Is it serious?”

“How are things, Dad?” Her feelings for Brant were private.

He chuckled. “That’s my darling girl. Don’t tie yourself down until you’re at least thirty. Until then, have a good time. A really good time, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I will.” Kia’s heart ached. Her father had really sunk to a new low.

“Anyway,” he continued. “I’m in Darwin for a couple of days on business and I thought we might have brunch together today.”

“Brunch?”

“Yeah. I want to see if you’re still as charming as ever.”

“And if I’m not?” she quipped to hide her hurt.

“Then I’ll trade you in,” he joked and laughed out loud as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

Moisture filmed her eyes and she squeezed her eyelids shut. Thank heavens he couldn’t see her.

“What do you say then, darling girl? Coming to see your old man for an early lunch?”

She blinked rapidly and took a deep breath. He didn’t really care if he saw her or not, so she should tell him flat out no. Then it occurred to her—if she went, she could dispel any lingering doubts that Brant was like him. He really wasn’t, she knew that, but why not take this opportunity to put it behind her once and for all?

“Will Amber be there?” she asked. It wouldn’t be a pleasant lunch if the other woman attended. Not when her father’s third wife was childishly jealous of her. Of course, Amber was half her father’s age.

“No. I told her to stay in Sydney.”

Kia’s heart sank. So their marriage was on the rocks already. How sad. “Where and when?”

He named a restaurant in the heart of the city. She would have preferred to lunch at his hotel, but there was no chance of that. Her father liked to be seen when he was in town.

She laid the receiver on the cradle, then picked it up again, intending to call Brant and tell him why she wouldn’t be in until later. Hearing his voice would be reassuring.

Then she remembered the invisible barrier he’d put up between them in bed last night and she stirred with sudden uneasiness. Perhaps it was best they both kept some distance.

Brant was just about to reach for the telephone for the tenth time when he heard the soft ping of the elevator door opening onto the executive floor.

Intense relief washed over him. It had to be Kia. Thank God nothing had happened to her. He’d already driven over to her place once this morning, to find out why she hadn’t turned up at work after leaving his place earlier, and found no one at home. Her Porsche hadn’t been in the driveway either. It had scared him silly, and that’s something he didn’t like to feel.

Bloody hell, he was going to demand an explanation, he decided, striding to the door, growing angry because she’d put him through this. He couldn’t even think of an explanation that would satisfy him right now. Not unless…

His heart stopped, then began to thud like the deafening sound of tropical rain. Could she be seeing someone else? Was it possible so soon? Even Julia hadn’t been quite that quick to run off with his brother.

With his gut tied up in knots, he reached the door…only it wasn’t Kia coming toward him. It was Flynn Donovan.

Brant swore.

“That’s a nice way to greet an old friend,” Flynn mocked as he approached.

Brant grimaced. “Sorry, mate. I wasn’t swearing at you.”

Flynn’s dark brows lifted. “Then who?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He planted a wry smile on his face, trying to appear nonchalant. “This is an honor,” he said, turning back into his office and going to stand in front of the window. He glanced down at the street below, hoping to see…

“Is it?”

Realizing his friend knew him too well and had astutely picked up on some of his anxiety, Brant spun around. “What are you doing here, Flynn?” he said, gesturing for him to sit on the leather couch.

But the other man remained standing, his finely tailored suit reflecting the successful businessman that he was, the watchful look in his eyes one that no doubt his competitors in the boardroom had seen many times. “I’ve come to ask why you haven’t been returning my calls. I thought we were supposed to get together over Christmas.”

Brant gave a short laugh. “That’s a bit hard to do when you were in Japan and Damien was in the States.”

“I was back for Christmas, and Damien will be here tomorrow. But that’s not the point. The fact is you’ve been avoiding us.”

Brant walked to his desk and dropped down on the chair. “I’ve been busy.”

“Haven’t we all?”

Brant silently swore to himself, not liking being under the microscope. It was okay when he got together with his friends and they ribbed each other mercilessly about other things, but this was about Kia, and she was no joke.

“Well, I’ve been extra busy.” He decided to throw Flynn a crumb to satisfy him for now. “You remember how Phil had his accident?” Flynn gave a nod. “He almost lost us a major account. I’ve been working double time just to set things right.”

A sharpening look from Flynn said he’d taken the bait. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Thanks, no. I’ve got it all under control now,” he said, relaxing a little, then darted a look at the door when he thought he heard the sound of the elevator.

“You seem kind of jumpy,” Flynn said, and Brant realized his friend hadn’t been fooled at all.

He shrugged. “I’m just waiting for Phillip’s PA to arrive.”

“Kia Benton?”

Brant sucked in a lungful of air. “You know Kia?”

“No, but I saw her at a couple of functions with Phil. She’s a stunner. I wouldn’t mind dating her for a bit. No wonder Phil—”

“Shut it, Flynn!”

For a moment there was silence.

Then Flynn spoke. “What’s she mean to you, Brant?”

“Nothing.”

Flynn’s lips twisted. “Come on, mate. I know when you’re lying through your teeth.”

“We’re lovers.”

Another moment’s silence. Then Flynn said, “Does Phil know?”

“No, but he wouldn’t be too concerned if he did.” Brant briefly explained the part about Kia pretending to be Phillip’s fiancée. He left out the bit about him thinking she was a gold digger, which was just as well. If she was playing him for a fool, she’d regret it, he vowed, swallowing a hard lump in his throat.

“So this is about you bedding a beautiful woman because you thought she was out of reach and then she wasn’t?”

“Yes.”

Flynn gave a sardonic laugh. “Pull the other one, mate. I’ve known you all your life. There’s more to you and Kia Benton than you’re letting on. Am I right?”

Brant swore, hating being so obvious. “You’re a son of a bitch,” he said through half-gritted teeth.

“And how does she feel about you?” Flynn said, ignoring the tension coming out of his friend.

“How the hell do I know?”

“Perhaps you’d better do some fast talking or you might just find the lady will be snatched out from under you.”

“Is that a threat?” Brant growled.

“Don’t be stupid. All I’m saying is that she’s a beautiful woman. She’d be a nice trophy for some men.”

The thought of Kia being any man’s trophy made him feel ill. “She wouldn’t be interested.”

“Really?” Flynn said in disbelief. “Let’s see, a man could offer a woman like her riches beyond her imagination, travel across the globe, luxury like she’s never seen before—and you’re saying she wouldn’t be interested? Get a grip, mate. Most women wouldn’t be able to help themselves.”

Brant stabbed his friend with his eyes, not appreciating having it spelled out like this. “When did you get to be so cynical?”

Flynn Donovan’s eyes took on an odd glitter. “When I made my first million.”

A couple of hours later Kia wondered how she’d ever thought Brant was like this man. The only thing the two men had in common was their gender. Brant may have a thing about commitment, but if he ever did fully commit to a woman, she knew it would be forever. And Brant’s children would know they were loved for who they were, not for what they looked like. Brant was nothing like Lloyd Benton. Thank God.

It was a relief to get away from her father. Now, more than ever, she appreciated loving Brant. It was a privilege to love him, even if he would soon break her heart.

So she was surprised and delighted to see the gray Mercedes parked out front of her house when she got home just after midday, needing to collect some papers before going into the office. She parked in the driveway, almost falling over herself getting out of the car and into his arms.

Only, after a couple of steps toward him, she realized something was wrong. Her steps faltered. A sick feeling rolled inside her stomach. “Brant?”

“Where have you been?” he said in an ominously low voice.

“Wh-what?”

“I came around two hours ago to look for you.”

“You did?” Oh, how she would have preferred being with him.

His eyes hardened. “Where have you been all this time?”

She stiffened, her own anger beginning to mount. If he’d asked nicely, she would have answered nicely.

As it was, she didn’t like his possessive tone. Or the implication that she belonged to him. She wasn’t even sure where this was coming from.

She sent him a glare even as she squashed a queasiness rising inside her. “I didn’t realize I had to get your approval to go out.”

His eyes impaled her. “If I’m being faithful to you, then you can bloody well be faithful to me.”

She gasped. “Faithful? Who said anything about being unfaithful?”

“If you’ve got nothing to hide, then why not just say where you’ve been?”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Brant. You don’t own me. I’m not your puppet to say and do what you please. You wouldn’t like me if I was.” Her lips twisted. “I’m a challenge, remember? Or I was.”

His mouth tautened. “You still haven’t told me where you’ve been.”

“None of your damn bus—” All at once, nausea swelled in her throat. She felt clammy. Her head began to swirl. She grabbed hold of him to balance herself.

“Kia?” he said as if from a long way off. “What’s the matter?”

“I feel…sick.”

“Damn,” he muttered, swinging her up in his arms. “Let’s get you inside.”

She wanted to tell him not to move too fast, but he seemed to sense that. He was surprisingly gentle as he carried her to the door and logged in the security code she managed to tell him before carrying her into the bedroom.

He went to lay her on the bed, but she motioned for him to take her into the bathroom instead. Somehow she found the strength to push him out of the room in case she lost her lunch. Luckily she didn’t, and after a short while she began to feel a bit better.

After splashing water on her face, she looked up and jumped when she saw him standing there with a towel in his hand. Gratefully she accepted the cloth and began dabbing it against her cheeks.

His gaze went over her in concern. “Feeling better?”

“A little.”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

She began to shiver. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” He gave her a hand into the bedroom.

“You shouldn’t have stayed,” she mumbled as he helped her lay down on the bed.

“Why not?”

“I can take care of myself.”

He covered her with a light blanket, but his look told her what he thought of that comment. “Rest. I’ll be back in a minute.” He left the room before she could ask where he was going.

A short time later she was back in the bathroom. And this time she did disgrace herself but was too sick to feel mortified with Brant’s hands on her head, holding back her hair. When she’d finished, she rinsed her mouth, then he carried her back to bed, where she lay against the pillows.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and the next thing she knew was Brant gently shaking her awake.

“Kia, wake up. The doctor’s here.”

She groaned and opened her eyes to find Brant and a strange middle-aged man standing beside her bed.

“How do you feel now, Ms. Benton?” the doctor asked.

She tried to sit up but fell back against the pillows. “Like my stomach’s seasick.”

“I’d better examine you.” He glanced at Brant. “Perhaps you’d like to wait outside?”

“Perhaps not,” Brant said, an inflexible look on his face that said he wasn’t budging.

The doctor arched a brow at Kia. “Do you mind?”

Her eyes darted to Brant. It wouldn’t matter if she did. “No.”

“Right. Then let’s take a look at you.”

He examined her for a few minutes, then put his stethoscope away. “There’s a stomach bug going around. I’d like to rule out food poisoning, though. Have you eaten anything today?”

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