Reluctantly she reached out and picked up the slip of paper. Staring down at it, she felt her face drain of colour. ‘This is the wrong amount.’ She looked back down, then, blinking, lifted her head in confusion. ‘This is double what I was expecting.’
His eyes didn’t leave hers. ‘Think of it as an anniversary present.’
Carefully she put the paper down on the table. ‘That’s incredibly generous of you,’ she said hoarsely.
‘I’m glad you approve.’
His tone was pleasant, but something in his eyes made a shiver of apprehension run down her spine and she glanced nervously at the slip of paper again, half feaing she might have imagined it. But it was definitely real.
‘It really is very generous,’ she said stiffly. ‘I don’t k
now what I’d have done if I hadn’t got the money. It means so much to me. Thank you.’ She breathed out. ‘How long will it take to clear?’ She knew she sounded gauche but she didn’t care. If Malachi wanted to gloat—let him.
‘Around two hours.’ He paused and looked past her at the dark clouds and the grey swelling sea outside, and she felt that shiver of apprehension spike painfully through her skin. ‘But before you start spending it I need to make a few things clear.’
She nodded. ‘Of course. Do you want me to sign a contract? I can do that now.’
He turned and slowly, very slowly, smiled at her.
‘That won’t be necessary. You see, that money didn’t come from King Industries. It came from me. From my personal bank account. And my terms are personal too.’
She swallowed—or tried to swallow at least—past the lump in her throat.
‘What do you mean “personal”?’ she croaked. Around her the air felt hot and leaden and the room was growing darker. ‘What do you mean?’ she repeated, and the lump felt sharp and jagged now.
His voice was soft, just as it had been when he’d promised to love and honour and cherish her for ever. But the lines of his face were knife sharp and harder than stone.
‘I’ve been very patient, sweetheart, but you owe me a honeymoon.’
‘I—I don’t understand.’
His gaze swept over her slowly.
‘Then let me explain. I want you to come away with me for a month. To be my mistress.’
His eyes locked on to hers, pinning her against the leather upholstery.
‘Do that and you can keep the money. Who knows? There might even be a little bonus in it for you as well.’
CHAPTER THREE
THERE WAS A LONG, pulsing silence. Across the table, Addie stared at him in mute disbelief, unable to believe what she had just heard. Slowly she picked over his words inside her head, turning and twisting them like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, trying to make a different meaning. But each time the picture was the same.
His mistress!
The word sounded even harsher inside her head than when he’d spoken it out loud and her breath snarled in her throat. Maybe she had misunderstood him. Or maybe he was joking. But as she stole a glance at his cool, implacable face she realised with a jolt of fear that he was making a serious suggestion.
‘Are you out of your mind?’ she said shakily.
She stared down at the slip of paper, still lying on the table between them, clenching and unclenching her hands in her lap.
He shrugged, his cool gaze boring into her. ‘Everything in life has a price, sweetheart.’
‘A price! What are you talking about, Malachi? You just offered me money for sex!’
His gaze drifted lazily over her pale, stunned face. ‘How very unromantic of you. I thought I was offering you the honeymoon we never had.’
She was suddenly hot with rage. ‘Oh, please! You know exactly what you just said and it had nothing whatsoever to do with romance!’