was confident she could speak to him without tearing the lying rat’s eyes out, she glanced across at him.
‘And what exactly does that mean for Fairfax?’ she asked in a cool little voice.
‘An educated guess. The expansion will have to stop and they will be in deep financial trouble, and probably ripe for a hostile takeover.’ He gave her a humourless smile. ‘As I said before, the choice is yours, Emily.’
He didn’t need to add a takeover by him. Emily figured that out for herself. ‘You would do that …’ she prompted, and saw his proud head incline slightly, the glimmer of triumph in his dark eyes, and she knew the answer.
‘If I have to. I will do anything to keep you.’
A hysterical laugh rose in her throat and she choked it back. He would do anything to keep her. A few hours ago she would have been flattered by his words, now she was just sickened.
Suddenly her legs threatened to collapse beneath her, and abruptly she sat down on the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, and stared up at him in sheer disbelief …
She shook her head and looked down at her hands, her gaze lingering on the gold band on her finger. What a travesty …
Slowly she reran the scenario of the future of their marriage Anton had painted in her head. It did not take a genius to work out he must have planned this all along. She also realized there was one glaring flaw in the choice he had given her as far as she was concerned.
‘If what you say is true you can take the company any time, whether we are together or not,’ she said slowly. ‘And you freely admit you don’t love me, or anyone else for that matter. We both know you can have any woman you want without much effort, and frequently do by all accounts.’ Though picturing him in another woman’s arms doing what he had done to her was like a knife to her heart. She paused for a moment, drawing on every bit of will-power she could before lifting her head and asking, ‘So why on earth, Anton, would I stay with you?’
He stood towering over her, his expression unreadable. He was so close she imagined she felt the warmth of his body reaching out to her, and she trembled and despised herself for it.
Then he smiled—he actually smiled, all confident macho male, and she wanted to thump him. He sat down beside her, his great body angled towards her, and hastily she moved away, but banged against her damn suitcase and sent it tumbling to the floor.
‘Steady, Emily.’ He reached across her to put a restraining hand on her arm and she flinched at the contact. ‘And though I am flattered you think I can have any woman I want, I want only you.’
Anton knew he had her. He had noted her tremble. His original assessment was right—in a few days she would forget this nonsense about leaving him. But he had to tread warily. Naturally she was upset and angry because he had forced her to face reality and accept he was not quite the Prince Charming she had imagined … but as human as the next man.
He had not got where he was today without being ruthless when it came to what he wanted. He never took an insult to his integrity without seeking retribution. Anything less was a sign of weakness, and no one could accuse him of that.
But he could do charming …
She was as skittish as the newborn foals he bred on his ranch in Peru and needed gentle handling. She would stay with him anyway, of that he was determined. But he would prefer her to stay with him willingly and what he wanted he always got.
‘I regret arguing with you, but you have a knack of inflaming all my passions.’ He grimaced. ‘I never meant to tell you the truth about your father, but your rosy view of him spiked my temper and for that I apologize. So now can we put this argument behind us, and get on with our marriage? It is up to you, Emily, but I promise if you stay I will never harm your family firm in any way.’ He reached for her hand, and he found he was grasping air as she shot off the bed at the speed of light, and spun around to stare down at him.
Surprise didn’t cut it; he had been at his caring best, what more did she want? His mouth grim, Anton studied her. God, she was magnificent. Statuesque, her blue eyes blazing, her perfect breasts rising and falling in her agitation, her hands placed defiantly on her slender hips. He was aroused simply looking at her, and then she spoke, and his softly-softly approach flew out of the window.
‘Are you mad? After today I would not believe a word you said if you swore it on a stack of bibles,’ she yelled.
‘Then trust this,’ Anton snarled, his temper and frustration finally boiling over, and, catching her around the waist, he tumbled her onto the bed.
The breath left Emily’s body and before she knew it she was flat on her back with Anton’s long body pinning her to the bed.
For a moment she was too shocked to move, and then his mouth was crashing down on hers, and instantly her pulse rate surged and she was wildly, passionately angry. She fought like a woman possessed, she kicked out and he retaliated by pinning her legs between his heavy thighs. She bit his tongue, her hands tangled in his hair and pulled. He did the same.
‘Hell—Emily—’
His voice was ragged and then his mouth slammed back down on hers. Still she tried to resist, but his big body pressed against her, his hand in her hair holding her firm, his other hand cupping her breast, kneading, igniting a different kind of passion.
His hand left her hair, and he shoved her top and bra up over her breasts, his mouth covering her already-straining nipples. Wild excitement ripped through her and all thought of resistance was blown away in the storm of passion engulfing her.
‘You want me,’ he rasped.
‘Yes,’ she groaned, her arms involuntarily wrapping around him. She didn’t notice when he removed her trousers. She wanted him; he was right—she could not help herself.
His lips brushed her breast, her throat, her mouth, and her mouth twined with his in a desperate greedy kiss. Involuntarily her slender body arched up beneath him, and she gloried in the pressure of his surging masculine arousal. He moved sensually against her, and she moaned as his teeth and tongue found her aching nipples, teasing and tasting until she was wild with wanting. Anton’s hands curved around her buttocks and her body jerked violently as he plunged to the hilt into the sleek, tight centre of her, the sensation so intense, she could barely breathe.
Hard and fast, he thrust repeatedly, and her body convulsed in an explosion of pleasure so exquisite she could only gasp as he plunged on to his own shuddering release.
She lay there, her eyes closed, exhausted and fighting for breath, the shuddering aftermath still pulsing inside her. She felt Anton roll off her and say her name. But she kept her eyes closed. She could not face him, a deep sense of shame and humiliation consuming her.
Knowing he did not love her and had an ulterior motive for marrying her … Nothing had stopped her melting like ice in the sun as soon as he had kissed her. In one passionate encounter he had turned her lifelong belief in love on its head. She felt his hand smoothing back her hair from her face, his fingers trace the curve of her mouth.
‘Emily, look at me.’
Reluctantly she opened her eyes. He was leaning over her, determination in every angle of his brutally handsome face.
‘No more pretence, Emily. You want me and I want you. You may already be carrying my child, so no more arguments. We are married and that is the way it is going to stay.’
She almost told him then …
Emily was a practical woman and she had started taking the pill a week after their first date as a precaution for the affair she had hoped would follow, marriage not on her mind at the time. Now she kept her secret. Why feed his colossal ego by letting him know how ridiculously eager she had been to go to bed with him?
‘And I have no say in the matter.’
‘No.’ Anton’s dark eyes swept over her, his lips curving in a brief satisfied smile as he straightened