Page 35 of Mistress And Mother

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‘You’re just trying to justify playing on my ignorance!’ Molly slung at him painfully.

‘Molly…that vase was delivered to you by a specialist courier in reams of protective packaging. Nine out of ten people would have worked out for themselves that it was an extremely valuable piece.’

‘I had too much else on my mind at the time! And how could I ever have dreamt that it was valuable when Freddy lived as he did? Even his house belonged to your family!’

‘Freddy had a very comfortable trust fund but his tastes were simple. He took that vase from my father because he was tired of being treated like a stupid, middle-aged old codger by a domineering, arrogant man who bragged constantly about his possessions.’ Sholto studied her flushed and furious face and his mouth tightened. ‘The vase is yours, Molly. If you wish I will buy it from you—’

‘I’d rather break it!’ she swore.

In coolly contemptuous challenge, Sholto tossed a key down on the top of the nearest display case. ‘Go ahead…but in ten minutes I will still expect you downstairs. We have to leave for the airport.’

‘The airport?’ Molly echoed blankly.

‘We’re flying out to the Caribbean for our honeymoon.’

Molly went rigid, throwing him a look of scornful disbelief. ‘After this? You’ve just got to be kidding!’

Implacable dark eyes struck sparks off her

defiant stare. ‘No, cara, I am not kidding. And if you’re still here staging a sit-in ten minutes from now I have every intention of turning you over my knee. You won’t sit down on that luscious demère for the best part of a week!’

Face burning with outrage, teeth clenched, Molly arrived in the hall exactly nine and a half minutes later. In explosive silence, she climbed into the car still wearing her flamboyant red dress because she hadn’t given herself time to change.

As Sholto landed the helicopter on the purpose-built pad to the north of the villa, the little island of Carvalho Cay tilted in a dizzy blue of lush green vegetation silhouetted against a jewelled sea of blue. Not in the mood to be impressed, Molly climbed out into the balmy warmth of early evening, feeling cross and crumpled.

She had slept or pretended to sleep for most of the flight on Sholto’s private jet and had then enjoyed a shower and a meal, if not a change of clothes. She was so sick of her red dress she was ready to ceremonially burn it. Smoothly assuring her that he liked her just as she was, Sholto had flatly refused to have her luggage brought out of the cargo hold.

The long, low villa had been designed to merge with the surrounding trees and the setting had all the unspoilt natural beauty of a forest glade. It was breathtaking. For hours on end Molly had only spoken to Sholto when she was forced to do so but curiosity finally overpowered her. ‘You never mentioned this place before.’

‘Four years ago, I planned to surprise you. We were to have flown out here the morning after the wedding.’ Sholto stood back for her to precede him into a spacious tiled hall decorated with earthenware urns of fresh white flowers. ‘My father bought Carvalho Cay and built this house but my mother never knew of its existence. This was his hideaway.’

‘You mean he brought his women here.’

‘You do have a special way with words, cara. You manage to make it sound quite disgusting.’

‘He was a married man,’ Molly said uncomfortably.

‘My mother gave him me and then opted for a separate bedroom. She considered her duty done.’ Sholto’s tone was dry. ‘He loved her but she only married him because he could afford to restore and maintain Templebrooke. She was a cold woman and he was a very warm-blooded man. I don’t blame him for seeking consolation elsewhere. He did try to be discreet.’

Was that an enlightening glimpse of Sholto’s morality? An affair was fine as long as it was discreet? Was that why Pandora was now based in New York? Irritably suppressing those frantic inner questions, Molly looked at Sholto. His dark eyes lingered on her with disturbing intensity, a faint half-smile beginning to curve his lips.

Her breath shortened in her throat and she sucked in a deep, steadying lungful of air. ‘I want to get changed.’

‘Are you hungry?’

‘Not at all.’

In what she took for silent acquiescence, he led her upstairs and pressed open a carved door on a bedroom that was the last word in luxury. Molly crossed the floor to get a better look at the view through the sliding glass doors. She was utterly enchanted by the waterfall and the spacious natural pool she saw beyond. No wonder his father had chosen this particular site on which to build. As she stood there, she unzipped her dress and stepped out of it with a sigh of relief.

‘Dio…I wondered what you were wearing underneath,’ Sholto murmured thickly. ‘Turn round.’

Molly jerked round, not in obedience but in shock. Having heard the door close, she had assumed she was alone and that he was safely on the other side of it. But, lounging back against that same door, Sholto was absorbing the full effect of the scarlet satin and lace corselette lovingly cupping the voluptuous swell of her breasts and shaping her still tiny waist.

‘Per I’amor di Dio…’ he groaned as his gaze moved down to survey the diminutive cobweb grey silk panties that toned with the sleek lace-topped stockings that encased her slim, shapely legs. ‘If I’d known what you were concealing, I would’ve ravished you while we were still airborne.’

Her cheeks a hot rose-pink, Molly fought a craven prompting to haul on the dress again while fiercely regretting her impulsive urge to splash out on fancy lingerie and surprise him. ‘I’m still very angry about that vase business!’ she warned him in a furiously defensive rush. ‘And I’m not spending the night with you! Do you hear me?’

‘I hear you but I’m not listening.’ Sholto reached behind him and depressed the lock on the door. ‘I’m looking at an erotic fantasy in the flesh. It would take physical force to remove me from this bedroom. In any case, even if I wasn’t burning up with sheer unadulterated lust and the effects of nearly two weeks of cold showers, you’ve forgotten one little thing.’


Tags: Lynne Graham Billionaire Romance