Untouched Until Her Ultra-Rich Husband

“I want to move to one of the modeling capitals. New York, preferably.”

“You want to be a model?” He said it with such disparagement, she let her weight shift onto her back foot.

“You don’t think I’m pretty enough?” Panic edged in from all sides. This was all she had!

“Why haven’t you done it already? Singapore has a thriving fashion district.”

“Of Asian models. My look doesn’t fit this market. It’s not a profession where you walk in a door and get a job anyway. You have to build up to it, provide headshots and find an agent.”

He waved at the laptop. “You have options. Why haven’t you made inroads?” He sounded incredulous.

“Your grandmother couldn’t run her business without me. Not the way she liked to run it.” Her conscience grew heavy with the familial obligation she had alluded to a few minutes ago. “And she would never have forgiven me. She was furious with your mother for leaving without her permission.”

The sudden flash in his eyes told her that particular topic was off-limits.

She resisted the urge to tangle her hands together and wring them.

“I’ve been struggling these last few years, aware that she needed me, but also aware that the two advantages I possess—youth and looks—won’t be available to me forever. If I’m going to exploit them, it has to be now.”

“Don’t overlook that cunning brain of yours.”

“Much as I would prefer to be valued for my intellect, who will hire someone without accreditation or even a home and a computer of her own? The work I do for your grandmother isn’t transferable to anyone except you. And my use to you has a very short shelf life. I know that.”

She sighed, trying to keep hold of her composure as she continued.

“Her passing has forced me to secure my future as quickly and expediently as possible. Models with the right look can work anywhere. They’re paid well and agencies help with the travel and residency paperwork.”

“You just pointed out that no one walks into that career.”

“It depends who escorts me, doesn’t it?” She was way out on her wobbly limb now, grip slipping and the whole tree swaying in hurricane-force wind.

His brows went up. She’d watched those raptor wings lift like that several times, expressing his astonishment at the audacious mouse in his sharp-taloned foot, chittering no matter how hard he squeezed her.

He smiled faintly. “I wondered when we were going to get to an offer like that.”

The tip of his finger grazed her temple in a caress that tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

Any further words she might have found became tangled in her throat because his fingertip continued that nascent caress into the hollow beneath her ear, then stroked the soft flesh beneath her jawbone, tilting up her chin before she had realized she was obeying his silent command.

“Pleasant as that inducement promises to be...” His voice grated sensually across her nerve endings. “I won’t be persuaded to let you handle my grandmother’s money. Or me.”

He dropped his touch, sending a chill through her whole body.

* * *

Dragging his gaze off the temptation of her plump, shiny, parted lips took every ounce of Gabriel’s well-honed discipline. He controlled all that he did because he controlled himself. Giving in to impulse, especially the sexual kind, was juvenile.

But the flare of yearning and disappointment in his eyes was almost his undoing.

“I wasn’t...um...trying to offer s-sex for—”

“The stutter is a nice touch. Most men go crazy for the helpless damsel act. Good on you for trying it.” It was her first show of vulnerability amid a nerves-of-steel performance. He wasn’t buying it, though. “I’m impervious.”

Mostly. His hands itched to drag her against his chest, not only because he wanted to do things to her—carnal, wicked things—but because the tremble in her lashes tugged at something in him. Against his better judgment, he felt an urge to shelter her. Reassure her.

She didn’t argue or stammer out more protestations. There might have been a glimmer of injury behind her eyes, but it was gone so quickly, he knew it was only a strategy that was briefly considered before she discarded it. Within seconds, she returned to her true, iron-butterfly persona.

“Sex is firmly off the table?” Her tone gave him the sense he was missing something.

“I never force sex and I never pay for it. I am, however, open to enjoying it anywhere, including on tables.”

“I’m willing to offer other acts that might be of value to you, then. Marriage, for instance.”

“You want me to marry you? I honestly didn’t think you could astound me further. Not my first offer. Thank you, but no.” He rejected her firmly even as a voice in the back of his brain reminded that he would have to begin thinking of marriage. Was he going to leave his fortune to those idiot cousins of his father’s?

He brushed that aside, needing all his concentration to deal with this surprisingly daring and skillful con woman. Especially when she seemed genuinely taken aback by his words.

“I don’t want to marry you. You’re far too young,” she said, as if the idea was ridiculous.

“I stand corrected,” he drawled. “I am further astounded.”

“I would make an excellent trophy wife. I’m open to considering marriage to a man of advanced years at your direction, provided I’m granted residency in a major center like New York or London.”

“You want to marry someone twice your age?”

“Three at least.” She frowned. “I’m only twenty-two.”

“Now you’re trying too hard.” He couldn’t help it. He laughed openly.

“Marrying an older man worked out well for your grandmother. She was widowed at thirty.”

“They say emulation is the sincerest form of flattery.” He folded his arms. “But I am not a pimp. Old men may find their trophy wives without my assistance.” The idea of lecherous, gnarled hands claiming those curves revolted him to the point of violent rage.

She looked to the window. There might have been a sheen on her eyes and a pout in her lips as she ran out of gambits, but he felt no triumph. He was captivated by the sheer perfection in her exquisite profile, graceful as a cameo carved into ivory.

She was so remote and untouchable in that moment, his abdomen clenched with craving for something he couldn’t articulate.

“Very well.” She moved to the laptop and glanced at him. “I’ll undo everything I’ve done if I have your word it will square my debt with your grandmother and I’ll be free to go. No police.”

He heard the defeat in her tone and experienced loss, even though he had won. He wasn’t ready for this game to end, but he made himself nod agreement.

She touched the tip of her finger to the sensor.

“Just to be clear...” She slanted a glance at him.

Foreboding filled him—and thrill. He had thought she was giving up, but this delightfully tricky wench didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word quit.

“Yes?” he asked with deliberate lack of concern that bordered on tedium.

“When I say everything...”

“That doesn’t exactly clean up your mess, does it?” He let fury lick at him because it was better than allowing her magnificence to blind him.

“If Luli isn’t needed, everything under that profile must also be unnecessary,” she said with simple logic.

“Come here.”

She stayed where she was, but had the good sense to take her hands off the laptop and close the screen.

“Do you realize how dangerous I am?”

“Do you realize,” she asked in an even quieter voice, lips white, “how little I have to lose? How much I’ve already lost?”

Eight years, if she was to be believed.

Her hands were curled into angry fists, but stayed at her sides. “You’re welcome, by the way, for all the times I’ve asked your grandmother, Is this an opportunity you would like me to bring to your grandson’s attention? You could have stepped in at any time to help her manage her affairs. You didn’t. I did. For nothing but a roof over my head and three meals a day.”

“And you think you can strike back at me for that? By deleting a few paper trails? Any database or personnel records you compromise can be rebuilt from backups. It won’t take long and the price tag won’t be that high.”

“I estimate the cost at ten million US dollars, based on penalties for failing to finalize certain contracts on time. Or you could keep me on and not lose a penny.”

“Is that what you think you’re worth?” he scoffed. “Ten million dollars?”

His words pushed a pin in her back, forcing her to take a step toward him. Anger smoldered around her in a cloud, making her entirely too sexy and distracting when her voice was so sharp and profound.

“I’ve spent years thinking my value is less than zero. I thought I had to stay here because Mae was the only person who wanted me, and only if I was useful to her. From the moment I emailed you that she had collapsed, my only thought has been that I have to prove my worth to you, but how do I do that when I’m a walking, unpaid debt?” Her hand moved to press into her middle, as though clutching at a knife stuck in her navel. “The debt is my mother’s. I am worth exactly what I decide I’m worth. If I’m to be exploited, I will choose the terms. And if you’re going to put me on the street like a stray dog, you will feel the bite of it.”

A discreet knock on the door had him snapping out, “Busy!”

An older brown-faced woman was already peeking in. “I’m sorry, Mr. Dean. I was told you left instructions I report to you the minute I returned.”

“Mrs. Chen’s nurse,” Luli said, stepping back and letting her hair fall forward to shield how color had risen in her face during their confrontation.

He swore under his breath and nodded at the woman. “Come in.”

He swung back to Luli and pointed at her laptop. “Put that on hold for a few hours. Then tell the butler to prepare us dinner.” He needed a damned minute to think.

The nurse bounced her gaze between the two of them as Luli moved to the desk and tapped a few keys. Seconds later, Luli closed the door behind her.

The nurse didn’t give him any information he didn’t already have. She offered condolences; he promised a severance package so she could take her time finding another position. She bowed slightly when he dismissed her.

“Wait,” he said. “How long have you been with my grandmother?”

She turned back, expression brightening the way most of his employees did when he gave them the opportunity to prove their value to him.

“Almost twenty years, sir.”

“You’ve known Luli since she came here? How long has she been working here in my grandmother’s office?”

“From the beginning, sir.”

“That was my grandmother’s idea? Was she competent? My grandmother, I mean. Mentally.”

“Oh, completely, sir! But Mrs. Chen never cared for telephones or computers.” Her hand washed such things from the air. “She thought them unhealthy and brought Luli in as a convenience. Luli spoke Spanish and your grandmother had recently acquired properties in South America.”

“Luli was quite young when she arrived? What was she like?” Scared? Angry?

“Quiet.” The nurse’s expression faltered as she delved into her memory.

“Because she only spoke Spanish?” He seldom thought about his teen years, but recalled adolescent girls traveling in colorful flocks and relentlessly twittering at each other. No matter what the truth was today, Luli must have felt isolated at the time.

“She spoke a little English, but it was the patch that was the problem. I had to remove it from her tongue. I had completely forgotten about that,” the nurse said with a distant frown.

“What kind of patch?” he asked sharply.

“For weight loss. It makes it painful to eat solids. She was already stick thin, but young women will do the stupidest things to themselves in the name of fashion. Mrs. Chen saved her from herself, if you want my opinion.”

CHAPTER THREE

A CRISP RAP on her door snapped her awake.

Luli glanced at her alarm clock, but it wouldn’t go off for another hour. She had set it so she wouldn’t oversleep resetting the timer on the laptop.

“Luli,” he said. “Open the door or I’m coming in.”

She quickly rose and brushed her hands down her wrinkled dress, then opened the door to Gabriel’s glower.

He glanced past her to the dented pillow on the single bed, the plain walls and utilitarian night table with only a clock and hairbrush upon it.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Sleeping.”

“You’re supposed to be eating dinner with me. Why did you tell the butler I wanted to eat with him?”

“You said, Tell the butler to prepare us dinner. I presumed us meant him.”

“No, you didn’t,” he said flatly.

It had been open for interpretation and she’d been dead on her feet. Also, there was no way the butler would believe the new master of the house wanted to eat with her unless he heard it directly from Gabriel himself. He and all the rest of the staff had given her apprehensive looks, everyone asking, What did you tell him?

And, exactly as she did when it came to her closed-door conversations with Mrs. Chen, she had given up nothing—earning zero friends in the process.

Now she’d made Gabriel angry. She’d fallen asleep thinking about his nearly kissing her, imagining things she barely understood. What would it feel like to have his lips on hers, his hand moving to her bottom? Her breasts. Between her legs.

Fresh heat pressed there, disconcerting her. How was it that all she had to do was think about him, stand before him, and quivers shook her abdomen and her mouth watered? It was mortifying.

“I’m not hungry,” she tried in a voice that scraped.

“I’m not requesting.”

His hard tone told her that all the work she’d put into giving herself leverage had left her with virtually none.

“Garden,” he said, stepping back to indicate she should lead the way.

She did, self-conscious the entire time that he was right behind her. She arrived to find a table had been set with Mae’s best china on a silk cloth. One of the maids brought the first course, a small bowl of curry laksa made with shrimp and cockles. Gabriel handled the vermicelli with his golden chopsticks as adeptly as she did.

And noticed the curious look she sent after the maid.

“I gave the butler the night off,” he said. “After clarifying he wasn’t my date.”

“I’m sure he appreciates a free evening.” He was going to kill her when he saw her next.

“He didn’t offer many compliments when I asked him about you.”

It didn’t really surprise her that he’d made those inquiries, but it made her squirm inwardly, knowing that no one would have anything very nice to say. She never dwelt on her ache of loneliness, but it was humiliating to have the staff’s contempt of her become the centerpiece of this already painful dinner.

“I sat in on his meetings with Mae when they reviewed household expenses and raises. It was my task to prepare the performance reviews and suggest appropriate wage increases.”

His laugh was a single cut of disbelief. “Have you made any friends here?”

“Perhaps you’ll be my first,” she said with a smile of false hope.

She watched for a twitch of humor in his mouth, but it held its tense line while she only wound up thinking about his rejection of her perceived advances.

She lost her appetite and set aside her chopsticks.

“I read your note,” he announced.

“Which—? Oh.” She realized as she brought her gaze back up to his antagonized one.

He must have tried to hack his way into the network while she’d been sleeping. Of course he had. And he’d found her warning against proceeding further.

“I thought this whole thing a bluff, but those are an elegant few lines capable of doing so much damage. I have an idea how to get around it. I’ve cloned the entire thing to a testing file. I’ll crack it before I go to bed,” he said with confidence, nipping off the tail of a shrimp and setting it aside as he chewed the meat.

“You realize there’s more?” she asked cautiously.

“I’d be disappointed if there wasn’t.” His smile was as false as hers had been. “Where did you learn to code?”

“We had to design our own website at school. There were a handful of standard templates to choose from. We were supposed to load basic details and a few photos, that kind of thing. I didn’t like the colors it offered and wanted a different layout. I looked up how to hack into the back end and customize it.”

“For extra credit?”

“To stand out from the rest. We were also required to have a hobby and volunteer hours. I chose programming and contributed to open-source projects. Since I’ve been here, I’ve had time and opportunity to become proficient in several languages. Mae liked that I could manipulate things to the way she wanted them.”

“Coding is a skill that’s very marketable,” he pointed out.

“That’s why I’m demonstrating my skills to you.” She pushed her bowl away. “But who will take me seriously, without a track record or credentials? Which door do I knock on when I land after being deported and have nothing in my pockets but lint? At best, I’d be recruited for click farms or phishing scams, maybe have to resort to criminal activity for my own survival. As I said before, if I wanted to break laws, I would have already.”

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