The Debt / Cross My Hart

CHAPTER SIX

Ash

‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN, you’re rethinking the deal?’ I demanded, staring sightlessly at the view of the Eiffel Tower from the hotel suite.

Delaney sighed down the other end of the phone. ‘I told you yesterday that the islands have a certain…sentimental value. And I was very much hoping they would go to someone who has the same family values as I do.’

I scowled at the street outside, trying to get a handle on my already touchy temper. I didn’t much care about other people’s feelings in the normal scheme of things, but alienating Delaney would be stupid. ‘If you’re expecting Dumont to have the values you’re looking for, you’re sadly mistaken.’

‘Actually, Mr Dumont told me that he’s thinking of settling down and is looking for a place to raise a family.’

Like hell he was. My half-brother was a playboy extraordinaire and settling down was the very last thing he’d ever do.

The bastard.

If I wasn’t careful, my little plan to buy his precious islands out from under him was going to go tits up. Not that it was just my petty-yet-satisfying revenge that was at stake. There was also the success of Evans International, my luxury hotel business, to consider.

It was my first foray into the market and I wanted it to work, especially since all profits were to go into the charitable foundation I’d set up especially for the purpose.

A foundation for business scholarships, leadership programmes and mentorships for kids from poor areas who didn’t have access to the kinds of education and contacts that rich kids did.

All the things that I could have had if my own father hadn’t washed his hands of my mother and me, relegating us both to a hand-to-mouth existence on a council estate.

I’d made it my mission to succeed despite him. To be better than him in every way. To help people who needed it and never deny them.

And if I got a bit of private satisfaction out of privileged arseholes paying an arm and a leg to stay on some island so that the money could go to helping the very people those privileged arseholes looked down on, then that was just icing on the cake.

Another one in the eye for the old man.

‘I’ll be settling down too,’ I said. ‘Eventually.’

There was a pause down the other end of the phone. ‘You mentioned a girlfriend…?’

‘Yes.’ My gaze dropped from the famous view to the street below, tracking a long black car moving down it and drawing up outside the hotel. ‘What about her?’

‘You said yesterday that you were serious about her.’

The door of the car opened and someone got out. Small and curvy and female in black trousers and a white shirt, a chauffeur’s cap on her head. She moved to the front of the limo and pulled something out of the back pocket of her trousers: a piece of cloth. Then she leaned down and buffed the shiny black metal with it.

Everything in me drew tight.

Ellie.

My heartbeat began to accelerate, my jeans to feel a little snug, reminding me of why I’d had such a bloody terrible sleep the night before.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

How she’d come apart so beautifully in my arms. How she’d screamed as I’d made her come. How soft and silky her skin had felt, and how tight and hot her little pussy had been.

How she’d tried to take control, only to give it up to me in the end without hesitation. Trusting me despite my reputation for being the biggest bastard in England. Even though she’d only just met me.

Even though I’d not done a thing to deserve it.

Which either made her a fool or very calculated and I couldn’t decide which.

What I did know was that I’d wanted to scoop her up in my arms and carry her upstairs to my room. Peel her completely out of her clothes and lay her across the bed, do lots of dirty, dirty things to her just so I could hear her scream my name again.

Except she’d very firmly refused.

I hated being denied anything and I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t been royally pissed off by it. But maybe I wouldn’t have been quite so annoyed if I’d suspected that something had upset her. She’d determinedly avoided my gaze as she’d pulled on her clothing, giving me that incredibly fake smile again.

I should have pushed the issue, but had decided that, since I’d be seeing her the next day, I’d broach the topic then, meanwhile giving her the space she so clearly wanted.

‘Evans?’ Delaney’s voice was sharp. ‘Are you still there?’

‘Yes.’ I followed every one of Ellie’s movements as she inspected the limo, giving the black metal small polishes here and there.

Something had been wrong after we’d had sex. Something had upset her. Had it been me? Something I’d done? I’d been rough, but she’d seemed to enjoy it and I’d given her plenty of opportunities to call a halt to the proceedings if she’d wanted to.

Then again, I was, after all, still me. And plenty of women couldn’t handle my particular brand of rough dirtiness.

‘Well, how about it, then?’

Shit. I’d missed something, hadn’t I? I’d been too busy staring at my chauffeur. ‘Sorry, had a call on another line,’ I lied, still watching Ellie from the window. ‘What did you say?’

‘I said, why don’t you bring your girlfriend to the club event in Dubai in a couple of weeks? I’d like to meet her. Then perhaps we can talk more about the islands.’

Oh, fuck.

I gritted my teeth, annoyed that I’d let myself get so distracted.

‘Of course,’ I said, left with no other option but to agree. ‘That sounds like a great idea. I’ll bring her along.’

‘Excellent. I’ll look forward to it.’

I disconnected the call and shoved the phone into my back pocket, my already foul mood turning even fouler.

Wonderful. What the fuck was I going to do now? I didn’t have a girlfriend, let alone a serious one, and I didn’t want one, either. Wives and kids were for other men. I was too busy and too damn selfish for either, and people had to take me as I came or not at all.

Except Delaney wasn’t taking me as I came. He wanted me to bring my non-existent serious girlfriend to meet him and I’d agreed purely so I could buy his fucking islands.

My plan to sabotage Dumont was getting more and more complicated by the second.

Down in the street outside, Ellie had shoved the cloth into her pocket and was now moving to the driver’s door. She glanced up at the hotel briefly but I couldn’t see her face. She must not have seen me, either, because she looked away, getting into the car once more.

I had a day full of meetings before I flew back to London that evening, and no time to talk to a temporary staff member about the sexual encounter we’d had the day before. Certainly no time to obsess about it the way I was doing now.

Christ, it was ridiculous. I’d double-check she was fine when I went downstairs, but then I’d ignore her the way I should have done the day before.

She’d be gone by tomorrow anyway.

I turned away, grabbed my jacket, laptop and the duffel bag that was the only item of luggage I’d brought with me, then went downstairs to check out.

Ten minutes later I strode out of the hotel and, sure enough, Ellie was already out of the car, hurrying around to open my door for me.

I’d planned to simply walk past her and get in, but for some reason I paused, looking down into her pretty face, searching for I didn’t know what.

‘Good morning, Mr Evans,’ she said chirpily, giving me the same jaunty smile as the day before.

And it irritated me just as much.

Because there was no trace of the husk in her voice that I’d heard when I’d touched her. No sign of the blush in her cheeks and the gold flames in her eyes that I’d seen as I’d slid my hands between her thighs, the wet heat of her pussy against my fingers.

‘Good morning, Miss Little.’ I narrowed my gaze, scanning her for any signs of the upset I was sure I’d sensed the day before. For any sign of acknowledgement of what had happened between us at all. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Box of birds, thanks.’ Her expression was resolutely cheerful.

I tried not to scowl. ‘You slept well?’

‘Fantastically.’

Damn woman.

It was ridiculous to be annoyed at her cheeriness, though. Because it was good she wasn’t upset. I didn’t want her to be, after all.

But you don’t want her to act as if nothing happened between you, either, right?

Bullshit. What did I care? The sex between us had been good, yet nothing more was going to come of it. I was flying back to London tonight and she would be driving for someone else and that would be that.

I’d have Bill back at the wheel by tomorrow.

‘And you?’ A small crease appeared between her brows as she studied me. ‘Did you sleep well?’

I lost the battle against irritation and scowled. ‘I don’t appreciate small talk, Miss Little. Keep it to a minimum, please.’

Her mouth opened, but I’d already turned away, getting into the car before she could speak.

It was churlish of me to take my temper out on her, but too bad. I was churlish, and petty, too. Selfish to boot. I embraced my faults honestly at least, unlike others who pretended they were better, all the while being just as deeply flawed as I was.

Whatever. She’d be glad she only had one more day of putting up with me.

After she’d shut the door, I got out my laptop and fired it up, hoping to distract myself by dealing with the mountain of emails I got every day.

It turned out to be pretty effective and I’d been working a good five minutes before I realised that the car wasn’t moving.

I looked up from the screen and, sure enough, we were still sitting right outside my hotel, while Ellie stared at me in the rear-view mirror.

‘You do know I have a meeting in twenty minutes I have to get to, don’t you?’ I snapped.

Her small, pointed chin lifted, green gleaming in her eyes. ‘You do know that you don’t have to be an arsehole, don’t you?’

People didn’t call me on my behaviour normally; I was too rich, too powerful. Certainly they never called me on it the way Ellie was doing right now.

I didn’t like it.

Perhaps because you know already that you’re acting like a prick?

My temper pulled on the leash I kept it on, growling and snapping like a beast. Of course I was acting like a prick. I always acted like a prick. Did she really expect anything different from me just because we’d had sex?

She probably expects you to act like a human being and not a petty bastard.

I gritted my teeth, glowering at her. ‘What? You don’t like me snapping at you? Too bad. I snap at everyone. Don’t take it personally.’

Her jaunty smile had vanished and I was bastard enough to be happy about it. ‘Would it kill you to be nice? Even for a second?’

‘Yes,’ I growled.

There was a very disapproving silence.

‘What?’ I grumbled bad-temperedly, not sure why I was conceding this to her. ‘You want an apology?’

The expression on her face was uncompromising; of course she wanted a fucking apology.

I let out a breath. I never apologised, not to anyone, not after spending most of my childhood feeling as if I had to apologise for my very existence. And certainly not after I’d discovered how much power anger and not giving a shit gave me.

But for some reason, I gave a shit now.

‘I’m sorry for snapping at you,’ I said, graceless and brusque. ‘There. Happy?’

She frowned at me. ‘Are you angry because I didn’t come up to your room last night?’

The question was unexpected and abrupt, making something hot flash through me. I definitely wasn’t angry about that. Was I?

‘No,’ I lied, very conscious of the tension gathering in my shoulders and the sullen burn of my temper.

She ignored my denial as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘Look, I’m sorry about yesterday, but I—’

‘Couldn’t get away from me fast enough?’ The words came out before I could stop them and as soon as I’d spoken I wished I hadn’t. Christ, I sounded pathetic. Like a hurt child.

But to my surprise, Ellie glanced away, colour creeping into her cheeks. ‘I thought it would be easier if I didn’t.’

‘Easier for whom? Certainly easier for you.’

The long, dark lashes veiling her gaze were streaked with gold in the sunlight coming through the windscreen. ‘I didn’t think you’d care. It was only sex. No big deal, right?’

Good point. It was only sex and very much not a big deal. And yet, here I was, turning it into one. Great sex, sure, but ultimately sex I could get from someone else.

She wasn’t special. I could get hunger and fire and desperation from any woman, it didn’t have to be her.

But the kind of instinctive trust she gave you?

I shoved that thought away before it could take root.

‘No big deal,’ I echoed flatly.

An expression I couldn’t decipher flickered across her face. ‘Well, I guess you’re ready to go, then?’

‘I am.’

She turned the key and we pulled away from the kerb at last.

And I directed my attention back to my laptop, curiously unsatisfied and not sure why.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ellie

THE DAY PROVED to be long and not only due to the driving I had to do in the interminable Parisian traffic.

It was also due to the presence of the man sitting in the limo behind me.

I tried very hard to pretend he didn’t exist, but it was difficult when every time I looked in my rear-view mirror, I caught a glimpse of him.

Sometimes he had his attention on his laptop and sometimes he was looking out of the window as he talked on his phone. And then there were also times I found his gaze on mine, a burning look in it, as if he were waiting impatiently for some kind of response from me.

Except I didn’t know what response he wanted.

I’d lied when I’d told him I’d slept perfectly well. I hadn’t. I’d spent all night going over what had happened in the limo and why I’d stupidly burst into emotional tears afterwards like a silly virgin.

Had it been the way he’d stroked me at the end? Or had it been due to the sheer power of the physical release? Either way, I’d hated it and I definitely didn’t want it to happen again.

Pleasure I could handle, but a big no to all that emotional bullshit. It only reminded me of how I’d felt after the Mark incident and how pissed off Dad had been at me at the way I’d handled it. Sure, kneeing Mark in the balls had been an instinctive reaction, but that had caused a whole lot of extra drama that had ended up with him making all sorts of extortionate demands.

No fuss, that was key, and yet here I was, making a fuss about the sex by crying, not to mention giving Mr Evans a piece of my mind for being rude to me.

I didn’t know what was happening, especially considering I still needed to ask him about Australis and our debt.

Finding the right moment to broach the topic proved difficult, however.

When he wasn’t in a meeting, he was on his phone, and it wasn’t until I’d picked him up from his last appointment and was taking him to the airport that he finally put the phone away, directing his attention to the laptop.

Ideally I would have liked to pull the car over, but he was pressed for time since the meeting had dragged on, and the traffic to Charles de Gaulle was a nightmare, so there was no time to stop.

I was just going to have to ask flat out.

Trying to ignore the fact that I’d complicated matters first by having sex with him and then letting my anger get the better of me and calling him out for being rude, I swallowed my nerves and checked him in the rear-view mirror.

He had his attention on his laptop, his face set in lines of fierce concentration.

Bloody hell, this wasn’t a good time, either. But what else could I do? He’d be flying out in a couple of hours and then my opportunity would be gone completely.

It was now or never.

‘Can I ask you something, Mr Evans?’ I asked, straight out.

He didn’t look up. ‘What did I say about small talk?’

‘It’s not small talk.’

‘Bill doesn’t talk at all.’

Well, this was off to a great start. Go me.

I gripped the wheel tightly, trying to hang on to my determination to keep this low-key and not a big deal. ‘I’m not Bill.’

‘No,’ he said flatly, his attention still on the screen. ‘You’re not.’

Okay, well, I was just going to have to go for it. I didn’t want to let Dad down, not again.

‘I need a favour,’ I said, throwing caution to the winds. ‘I need to talk to you about an investment.’

That caught his attention.

His head lifted, electric gaze coming straight to mine. ‘What?’

Time for my spiel.

‘So, my family makes supercars, all built by hand in our workshop in Sydney, and we were lucky enough to get a cash injection from your venture capital firm a few years ago. But, business hasn’t been great and we’re not able to make the returns that were expected.’ Shit, I was talking too fast; I needed to slow down. ‘So, we tried contacting Evans Investment to give us some more time before the investment was withdrawn, but they weren’t very receptive. I thought that if I spoke to you directly—’

‘That I would automatically be fine with potentially losing my investment?’ he interrupted, his voice sharp, hard, the look in his eyes cutting me to shreds. ‘Is that why you had sex with me?’

A cold shock pulsed down my spine.

Did he really think that?

But there was no mistaking the icy blue light glittering in his eyes. Not just annoyance or irritation, but genuine anger.

Yes, he really did think that.

We’d come to a red light so I was able to give him my full attention. ‘No,’ I said fiercely, forgetting all about the need to keep things light and no drama. ‘I had sex with you because I wanted to. Not for any other reason.’

But there were storms in his eyes, electric tension gathering in the air inside the car. ‘Are you sure? It’s been done before.’

Anger gnawed at me. How dare he think that? I would never use sex to get what I wanted and certainly not after Mark. ‘No,’ I repeated, with more force this time. ‘That’s…oh, my God, that’s the last thing I would ever do.’

He ignored that. ‘Do you know how many people have tried to use me to get what they want over the years?’ His voice was cold and gritty as sleet, his accent even more cut-glass than normal. ‘Many, many people, Miss Little. Believe me, you’re not the first.’

Heat surged through my cheeks. ‘I wasn’t intending to have sex with you. I just wanted to talk to you.’

‘But you didn’t, did you? You liked the idea of my cock instead.’

I struggled to get a handle on my anger. ‘So? It’s just sex, mate. Like you said, no big deal. So, could we talk about the investment that Dad—?’

‘No,’ he cut me off, the word cold as an arctic frost. ‘We will not talk about the investment. We will not talk about anything at all. This conversation, Miss Little, is done.’

Behind me someone honked their horn and I realised the light had turned green, leaving me no choice but to begin driving again.

I slammed my foot on the gas, trying to get a grip on my boiling emotions, very conscious that if I let rip the way I wanted to, I was in danger of screwing this up completely.

I couldn’t do what I’d done with Mark and let my anger get the better of me. Certainly kneeing Mr Evans in the balls wouldn’t help, which meant I needed to try something else, think of another angle that might interest him.

There is something else.

No, I couldn’t tell him about my personal project, not after Dad had poured scorn on it. It wouldn’t work and was going to end up being a huge waste of money, that was what Dad had said.

Still, I didn’t have that many options. And besides, I had to fix this. Especially since it was my fault that this was a problem in the first place.

‘I have my own project,’ I said into the silence, ignoring the nervous tension in my gut. ‘I’m designing an electric supercar. I think it could be a game changer, but Dad won’t fund it because he doesn’t approve. Not that he has the money, anyway, but if I could just get some backing for a prototype, it could turn Australis around, I’m sure of it.’

Silence from the back seat.

I didn’t want to look in the rear-view mirror. I didn’t want to meet his fascinating blue eyes, not again. ‘I know you’ve got every right to withdraw your money,’ I went on doggedly, ‘but I’m asking you personally at least to put it on hold. If I get funding for my project, it has the potential to do really well and then I could pay you back with a ton of interest.’

Again, silence.

Dammit. I’d bloody well screwed this up, hadn’t I? Sex had ruined it and then mentioning my stupid project probably hadn’t helped.

There was pressure at the back of my throat, a heaviness in my chest. Shit, that was pathetic. Dad would be appalled. He’d tell me to pull myself together, that it was my mess and crying about it wasn’t going to help anyone. I just had to suck it up and deal with it. That was the Little way.

The airport was coming up and soon I’d have to stop and let Mr Evans out. He’d walk away from me and that would be my opportunity gone.

‘I can show you pictures,’ I said uselessly. ‘My design is pretty unique, so if you want to see an example of—’

‘No.’ The word was flat, unequivocal.

‘Mr Evans—’

‘I said no.’ The was no mistaking the note of absolute authority in his cold, gritty voice.

The discussion was over.

Hot, angry words filled my mouth, but I kept it closed, my jaw aching with the strain.

Don’t make a fuss.

‘Hey, no worries.’ I forced my mouth into a smile. ‘Can’t blame a girl for trying though, eh?’

He said nothing, the silence in the car becoming thick and suffocating. Full of his anger and something else I didn’t understand.

I pulled the limo up in the drop-off area outside the airport and only then, gathering my courage, did I glance into the mirror.

But he was putting his laptop away and not looking at me.

I stared at him, unable to help myself. His face was guarded, the white seams of his scars stark against his olive skin. A muscle flickered in his hard, strong jaw. And I couldn’t help noticing that he had the longest, darkest lashes I’d ever seen on a man.

My fingers itched to touch him, a throb between my thighs reminding me of what he’d felt like inside me, surging into me, taking me hard and fast, the wild thrill of having a man like that under my hands…

Abruptly he looked and the vivid colour of his eyes caught me, held me.

‘Goodbye, Miss Little,’ he said expressionlessly.

And then he was gone.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ash

I STARED OUT from the empty floor of the tower building my company was in the process of constructing in Southwark, the Thames looking black and sluggish in the early afternoon light. Wind blew through the big empty space where the windows were going to go, while the site manager went through a list of excuses as to why the project had been delayed by several months.

I was only half listening. Despite the delays, the construction was going according to plan and I didn’t care about the man’s excuses. What I was concerned about was the upcoming trip to Dubai that I’d promised Delaney, and how I still hadn’t sorted out the issue of the ‘serious girlfriend.’

The solution, of course, was to bring someone with me and have her act the part. I had no shortage of women who’d be only too happy to pretend to be my ‘serious girlfriend’, but my real problem was that I couldn’t act to save my life.