AMANDA BROWNING

The Billionaire's Defiant Wife


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place!’

      Everyone laughed at that, and Aimi was relieved the focus of attention had passed on to someone else.

      ‘Come along, everyone. Let’s sit down again before our dinners get cold,’ Simone Berkeley chivvied them back to the table. ‘Jonas, you sit next to Paula. I want to hear all about what you’ve been doing lately.’

      Moments later a place had been laid and a full plate set before him. Back in her own seat, Aimi discovered, much to her chagrin, that Jonas was now sitting directly opposite her. It meant it was impossible not to see him whenever she raised her head. Even looking down, she was vitally aware of him. His presence in the room was an energy her errant senses registered in minute detail. Ignoring him was simply out of the question and her eyes had a will of their own, watching him from under her lashes whilst she ate. Thankfully, he chatted away with his mother so she was able to study him with a certain amount of freedom.

      The first thing she noted was how black his hair was, then the strong set of his jaw. Yet his lips spoke of sensuality. She wondered how they would feel, and immediately wished she hadn’t as a delicious shiver swept over her. Aimi closed her eyes and took some more steadying breaths. She had to get a grip, and as quickly as possible. She prided herself on her cool demeanour and needed it to be working perfectly. It would never do to let Jonas see he could affect her in any way.

      From what she had just heard and seen, she knew the man didn’t need any extra encouragement when it came to attracting moths to his flame. However, he was going to find this particular moth had an impermeable heat shield. He might have a reputation for going through women like a hot knife through butter, but not this one. She was simply not available.

      Opening her eyes, Aimi felt her confidence strengthening. She was not a weak woman, at the mercy of her senses—she was stronger than that. Bolstered, she was about to eat more of the delicious food on her plate when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention. Her nerves skittered and, unable to ignore it, she glanced up to find Jonas watching her, the look in his eyes highly provocative.

      Their gazes locked for a fleeting moment before Jonas smiled knowingly and looked away. It was long enough, however, to set her heart pounding. She chose to believe it was from annoyance, ignoring the small voice that wanted to say differently. Nor did she have to ask herself why he had looked at her like that, for she knew the answer. The man was no fool, and had sensed her initial response to him. But that moment was gone. She would not let anything slip again.

      With her mind settled on that point, she raised her head again and began taking an interest in the general conversation, just as she had before Jonas had arrived. Once or twice she caught his eye, seeing mocking amusement there, but she was alerted now and didn’t react to it. Finally, after the strangest hour Aimi could ever recall spending at a dinner table, the meal was over.

      ‘Let’s have coffee on the terrace,’ Simone suggested, dabbing her napkin against her throat. ‘Maybe there will be a breath of air out there. It’s so hot, it’s positively stifling!’

      The country had been in the grip of a heatwave for some days now, and it didn’t look like ending any time soon. Naturally, the whole family were only too happy to go outside, where looking down the garden towards the ornamental lake made them feel cooler immediately.

      ‘You must be glad to get out of the city this weekend, Aimi,’ Michael Berkeley remarked as he handed round the coffee his wife was dispensing.

      Aimi took her cup with a wry smile. ‘Oh, yes! Though my apartment is air-conditioned, on nights like these it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Working in your study will be much better than in some musty old archives.’

      ‘I thought you were my brother’s assistant. Are you moonlighting as an archivist?’

      The question came from Jonas, and Aimi steadied herself before turning to him. It was just as well she did, for she discovered he had made changes to his appearance since eating dinner. He had removed his jacket and tie, loosened the top buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, which gave him a totally different look. In his suit he had been suave and very much the international businessman; like this he looked ruggedly male and quite stunningly sexy.

      It all registered on her senses and, after what had happened just a short time ago, it didn’t really surprise her that her mouth went dry. Fortunately she had the foresight to take a sip of her coffee to moisten her lips before answering him. ‘I’m not moonlighting. I’m helping with the research for Nick’s book.’

      ‘Nick? That doesn’t sound very professional to me,’ Jonas goaded, and Aimi smiled faintly.

      ‘You might be the type of employer who insists on formality, Mr Berkeley, but your brother prefers a friendlier atmosphere,’ she replied coolly, and he grinned appreciatively.

      ‘Call me Jonas. I never insist on formality here,’ he declared, and Aimi realised she had not helped herself. Now she would have to call him by name, or look a fool. ‘So you’re a researcher as well.’

      ‘She’s good at it, too,’ Nick immediately piped up in her praise. ‘Not surprising when she’s got an honours degree in history.’

      Jonas inclined his head towards Aimi in a gesture that showed he was duly impressed. ‘A multi-talented woman. No wonder Nick snapped you up. If history is your first love, why aren’t you working at one of the museums or institutes?’

      ‘Unfortunately, those kinds of jobs don’t come along often and, as I’ve become used to eating three meals a day, I had to do something else,’ she informed him smoothly.

      ‘So, history’s loss is my brother’s good fortune,’ Jonas returned, equally smoothly. ‘And ours, too, of course. Otherwise we would not have had the pleasure of your company this weekend.’

      ‘You’ll see very little of me, I’m afraid. I’m here to work,’ Aimi pointed out, mighty glad to be able to do so.

      Jonas looked surprised. ‘Surely Nick doesn’t intend to keep your nose to the grindstone whilst the rest of us party?’ he challenged, giving his brother a disapproving stare.

      ‘Of course not. Aimi knows perfectly well I expect her to relax, too,’ Nick came back promptly, and she smothered a sigh of exasperation.

      Jonas smiled, and his eyes were dancing. ‘I shall make it my business to see that she does, then.’

      Aimi could feel her spine tense at the suggestion, and it took all her effort to keep her expression calm. ‘Don’t bother,’ she refused politely, to which his smile broadened.

      ‘Oh, it’s no bother. It will be a pleasure.’

      The only sign of her annoyance was a brief flaring of her nostrils. She knew she could not make any further protest, but would make sure to avoid him wherever possible. Meanwhile, she caught sight of the amusement in his eyes and felt compelled to respond.

      ‘What line of work are you in, Jonas?’ she enquired, finding it curiously hard to make his name emerge naturally. ‘Or have you made so much money you don’t need to work?’ she added, referring to what Nick had said when introducing them earlier.

      He seemed to find that amusing. ‘I buy up ailing companies and try to improve their health,’ he answered simply, and she frowned at the caveat.

      ‘What if you can’t?’

      Jonas smiled and, because it was totally natural and free of mockery, it lit up his face, causing Aimi to catch her breath yet again at the twinkle in his eye. ‘Then I break them up into saleable parts.’

      ‘Making a tidy profit on the way,’ Nick added. ‘Remember me telling you he was disgustingly rich?’

      It sounded good, but Aimi could see a flaw. ‘Making money is one thing, but what about the people? The workers? What happens to them if your cure fails?’

      Jonas didn’t appear in the least annoyed by being asked to justify his actions. ‘They stay with the company wherever possible. This