Tycoon's Blackmailed Mistress

by Maxine Sullivan

  “Is this better?” Flynn asked as he tucked her arm through his and they began to stroll along the pavement.

  “Yes, thank you. It was so hot in there.” She glanced away when he sent her another knowing look.

  As they walked, she forced herself to concentrate on her surroundings. The world had grown a little quieter at this hour. Older couples passed by, others headed home for the night. Younger people were just beginning to gather for the bar scene. Out on the ocean, lights from a distant boat bobbed in the water. Just behind them, the city’s low skyline silhouetted itself against a black velvet sky.

  And none of it could make Danielle forget that this virile man was beside her, the touch of his arm beneath her own shooting ripples of delight through her every step of the way.

  Suddenly she noticed a commotion a few yards ahead and she automatically stopped dead. An old man was sitting on the pavement, crying. A younger man was trying to get him to stand up.

  “Come on, Dad. Let’s go home,” the younger man said. “My car’s just over there.”

  The father gave a sob. “I don’t wanna go home, boyo. I wanna stay here.”

  “Dad, listen. You’ve got to come home. Mum’s had enough. She can’t take much more.”

  Danielle’s heart went out to the son. The man obviously had a drinking problem. She went to hurry over to them, wanting to help if she could.

  Flynn put a hand on her arm, stopping her. “Leave them.”

  Her eyes widened and her heart dipped with disappointment in him. She’d never been one to ignore a cry for help and she wasn’t going to start now. “But they may need my—”

  His face tightened. “They don’t.”

  “Flynn, don’t be silly.”

  “The man’s an alcoholic, Danielle,” he said harshly. “There’s nothing you can do for him.”

  “But—”

  “Let’s leave his son with some dignity,” he said, his face hardening as a crowd began to gather around the other couple.

  The younger man looked up and she saw the despair and shame in his eyes. Flynn was right. He didn’t need an audience.

  “You don’t belong in that world, Danielle,” he said, taking her arm and leading her back toward his Mercedes.

  She went without a murmur, the closed look in his eyes touching her deep inside, making her heart clench with a compassion she wouldn’t have said he deserved a week ago. Instinctively, she knew he had done this before himself, probably as a boy with his own father. It explained a lot about Flynn. He must have been so hurt and humiliated all those years ago. No child should have to grow up like that.

  They rode back to her apartment in silence, not even talking as they came out of the elevator and walked along the hallway. Danielle surprised herself by wanting to slip her arms around his waist and hold him tight, ease his heartache, but she knew it wouldn’t be appreciated. He was a man who stood alone, no matter what the circumstances.

  Their steps slowed as they reached her door. She swallowed as she turned to face him. “Flynn, about that man back there…”

  “Forget him. I have.”

  No, this was important. “I want you to know…that I understand.”

  “Good.” But he was suddenly looking at her lips.

  She moistened them, not deliberately, but it didn’t matter. She saw his eyes darken. “Thank you for dinner. It was a lovely evening.”

  He moved closer. “Nowhere near as lovely as you.”

  The breath hitched in her throat. She knew what he wanted. Knew the whole evening had been inching toward this in a silent, sensual way that had been sneaking up on both of them. “Flynn, no.”

  “No?” he said huskily.

  She tilted her chin, trying to fight his attraction, trying not to reach out and touch him. “I can’t let you make love to me.”

  He stilled. “Because of your pregnancy?”

  “No. It’s just that—”

  He lifted his hand, ran a finger along her lower lip. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman, Danielle. Being with you tonight, having you in my arms, is driving me crazy.”

  She gasped as his finger left her mouth and slid down the column of her throat. “There’s some things…you can’t have,” she murmured, loving the feel of his touch against her skin. “I’m one of them.”

  He picked up the gold chain at her neck that had been her mother’s and held it loosely between his fingers. “Tell me you don’t want me,” he challenged. “Give me a reason to walk away from you right now.”

  Her legs began to tremble as her stomach curled with need. “I…can’t.”

  He dropped the chain against her skin, his finger sliding back up her neck, along her jawline. “I want you in my arms tonight, Danielle. I want the scent of you on me. But I want no regrets.” His finger stilled under her chin, waiting.

  She shuddered but she knew what she would do. She couldn’t refuse him, not when every pore in her body was calling out to be embraced by him. Dear God, the only thing she’d regret right now was not making love to him.

  “No regrets, Flynn,” she whispered, and his eyes flared with white-hot heat. “Not tonight.”

  Tomorrow could take care of itself.

  Six

  D anielle’s knees shook as she stepped inside her bedroom, with Flynn right behind her. She had no doubt this was meant to be, no doubt at all this was where she wanted to be, yet she was afraid.

  Of herself.

  Of Flynn.

  Of the sheer breadth of sexual attraction between them.

  “Look at me,” he murmured and put his hand on her arm, slowly turning her around to face him, making sure she could see the very masculine look in his eyes that said he was all male, all possessive. That he wanted her. That he would have her. She could not deny him. Or herself.

  “Flynn, I think…” She paused, suddenly not sure what she wanted to say.

  “Don’t think. Just feel, Danielle. Feel me touch you.” His fingers began to stroke her arm through the thin material, the light touch so powerful it made her feel him, all right. She felt boneless as those dark, smoldering eyes held her in place while his hand slid up and cupped the curve of her shoulder, savored it before sliding his palm around to the back of her neck.

  “Now come to me.” He gently pulled her to him.

  She went willingly, more than ready for his kiss, yet unprepared for the sensual onslaught he made on her mouth. For long moments his tongue brushed hers like a paintbrush to canvas, each touch adding more layers of sensation, intensifying with each caress, bringing her to life. She moaned at the taste of him, a combination of fine whiskey and a flavor that could only be Flynn.

  He broke off the kiss and leaned back. “You are so beautiful,” he said huskily, his eyes appraising her features, making her skin quiver, making her heart race, making her wonder how she’d existed before she knew of his touch.

  His gaze traveled down to the creamy swell of her breasts. “I want to see all of you,” he murmured, pushing her thin silky jacket from her shoulders, stripping away the layers of consciousness between them as the material slithered to the floor. Her dress followed and her stockings, leaving her in a black lacy bra and panties.

  Suddenly she felt a little self-conscious. “This is embarrassing,” she managed to say, quickly putting her hands across the front of herself, knowing it was useless to try and cover herself, but doing it all the same.

  He moved her hands aside. “There’s no need to hide from me, Danielle.” Then he stilled, his piercing eyes riveting on her face. “Now it’s just you and me. No one else.”

  She knew what he was saying. That the rest of the world, including her baby, had to take a backseat for the moment.

  “I understand,” she murmured.

  Tiny flames leaped in his eyes and he began to make love to her in earnest. He undid her bra, letting it drop on top of the other clothes, then enlaced her breasts with warm hands that made her throat close off. His head lowered and his mou
th suckled first one nipple then the next, drawing a moan from deep within her, making her burn with need. She curled her fingers through his hair and held him to her.

  “It’s not enough,” she murmured, wanting to touch more of him. No, she needed to touch more of him. All of him. Her hands slid beneath his jacket, her palms smoothing over the hot skin under the material of his white shirt, spreading even more heat from his body to hers.

  But before she could touch him further, he groaned and stepped back to pull his jacket off, rapidly followed by his shirt. Then he reached for the zipper of his trousers. She gave a small gasp as he stripped down to nothing before her very eyes.

  Yet “nothing” could be further from the truth. He was magnificent, with a dark smattering of hair arrowing down his chest, over the rigid muscles of his stomach, to the irrefutable proof that he wanted her.

  Heart beating wildly, she hesitated for a split second. “You’re gorgeous,” she said, reaching for him, her hand sliding around his tight, hard erection to hold him as a lover. She watched with satisfaction as his jaw clenched and unclenched while she got to know him, heard the harsh uneven sound of his breathing when her thumb traced the smooth head of his arousal.

  A shudder rumbled through him. “Enough! I want to pleasure you,” he growled, taking her hands away and placing them on his chest, pulling her into his rip-cord arms. His eyes darkened with something primitive as he nudged her intimately, her thin panties the last barrier between them.

  His mouth covered hers hungrily, and she kissed him in return until she felt the room twirl around her, until she could feel herself being guided, until the bed touched the back of her knees and she was suddenly helped down onto the mattress.

  And then his lips began to trek a downward journey to where she melted for him. He whispered words of passion as he slid her panties down her legs, then kissed his way up them, teasing nerve endings along the inside of her calves, up along her inner thighs, before settling in to kiss her intimately. She gasped in sweet delight as Flynn marked her with his mouth.

  Then his tongue stroked her, and her stirring pulse jumped to attention and rushed through her veins. He quickened his pace, and so did her pulse. She’d never felt more alive.

  She wanted more.

  More of this.

  More of him.

  More of everything.

  But before she could burst with pleasure, he came up over her and nestled full length between her thighs, his arms supporting himself so he wouldn’t lean on her too heavily.

  He looked down at her, his eyes glittering with desire. “Are you sure?” he rasped, waiting, watching.

  Her heart turned over as she looked up at the forceful planes of his face, knowing he wasn’t the type of man to hesitate taking what he wanted, yet he hesitated with her.

  “Come into me, Flynn,” she said, her voice catching with the intensity of the moment.

  He gave a low groan and parted her legs farther with his thighs. He entered her slowly, carefully, his eyes locked on hers. Those eyes devoured her as he set a slow sensuous rhythm, moving inside her with leisurely thrusts that were far from casual and built the tension inside her.

  As if he felt it, too, he suddenly lowered his head and took her mouth by storm, and she gave her lips up to him as she had offered her body. He took it all, kissing her erotically, his tongue dipping in and out, around her lips, making a flush spread throughout her as his thrusts increased momentum, each movement sucking her more and more into a vortex of sensation.

  And then sheer magic took over as she was sucked down and down, drowning in a shock wave of the most exquisite pleasure. She’d never felt this way before. Never suspected.

  Then all thought left her as she fell into the deepest climax she’d ever had, every fiber in her body quivering around this man, quivering for him, with him.

  Dear God, she never wanted it to end.

  For a few seconds more, Flynn remained inside Danielle, leaning on his arms, looking down at the radiant picture she made beneath him. She was so soft to touch, so beautiful to look at, he didn’t want to move away.

  And he certainly didn’t want other men knowing her like this, came an unbidden thought, as an intense streak of possessiveness filled him. She was his, for as long as he wanted her, and right now that was going to be quite a while. A man couldn’t make love to a woman like Danielle and not want to keep her as his own.

  Except she was pregnant.

  Pregnant with another man’s child.

  And she hadn’t hesitated to use that to her advantage.

  Just then she moved slightly and he pushed his thoughts aside, determined to ignore them. There were other things to think about when he had a sexy woman in his arms. “Are you okay?”

  “Wonderful,” she murmured, her eyes sensuously drowsy.

  He was tempted to arouse her again, but he could see she was tired and needed a rest. Giving her a hard kiss, he rolled onto his back, pulling her close to his side, her head resting in the curve of his arm. She fit snugly against him.

  “Flynn, I’m so…” her eyelids fluttered shut “…tired.”

  “Sleep,” he said, and kissed the top of her head, then heard her breathing soften and deepen as she fell into a deep slumber.

  He lay there for a long time, thinking about this woman in his arms and what it meant that she had given herself to him. If he hadn’t known she was a con artist, he would have said she wasn’t a woman who would give herself lightly. He would have said she’d have to care about him in some small way to be lying here like this with him. And he definitely would have said that for her it wouldn’t just be about sexual attraction.

  Not the way it was for him.

  He swallowed hard and knew he was lying to himself. He found Danielle deeply attractive, but he had also begun to care about her in spite of himself. Yet it was a feeling he didn’t appreciate or want, and with the same determination that had taken him from a pauper to a very rich man, he put his emotions aside to concentrate on what was important. And that was right here, right now.

  During the night he reached for her and they made love again, and this time he was the one who fell heavily asleep as soon as it was over.

  But he still knew when she slipped out of bed in the early hours of the morning. In the moonlight he watched her pad naked to the bathroom across the hall, his body stirring even before she’d closed the door behind her.

  He waited for her return, the bed feeling big and empty.

  Right at that moment the bathroom door opened and he caught a glimpse of her dressed in her bathrobe before she flicked the light off. Good heavens. Did she think a bit of material would stop him from wanting her? Stop him needing her in his arms?

  But instead of coming back to bed, she quietly went and opened a drawer and took out some clothes. He knew then what she was up to. His mouth thinned. She was about to sneak out without waking him and go into another room to spend the rest of the night. Perhaps on the sofa.

  And the next time he saw her she would have put up that wall of reserve again. He wouldn’t allow it.

  “Come back to bed, Danielle.”

  Startled, her gaze flew across to him. “Flynn! I thought you were asleep.”

  He leaned up on his elbow, letting her know he was wide-awake and not about to let her run away. “You thought wrong.”

  “I was just going to—”

  “Take that robe off and come back to bed,” he murmured, lifting the sheet, aching to make love to her, but prepared to let her sleep if need be.

  She hesitated.

  “Danielle,” he said firmly, not prepared to wait any longer.

  She placed her bundle of clothes on the dresser and quickly undid the robe, dropping it from her shoulders, exposing her glorious naked body to him, making him catch his breath.

  Then she slid in next to him and he pulled her up close. His heart thumped when she curled her fingers through his chest hair in silent invitation, and soon she had him making l
ove to her, until she begged him to take her again and he could no more deny her than deny himself. Afterward, they fell into a deep sleep in each other’s arms.

  He awoke to find her still in his arms, the side of her face pressed against his chest. He decided he liked waking up next to a beautiful woman like Danielle. In fact, he rather liked the idea of having her in his bed all the time.

  She began to stir. The sheet covered her shoulders but didn’t quite hide her bare breasts, a sight he enjoyed as she stretched, her leg sliding along his own, thigh rubbing against thigh, her fingers flexing out over his stomach, fanning lower.

  She froze and her eyes flew open. For a moment he saw the confusion, then a flush began to rise up her throat and into her cheeks. Her reaction was just a simple thing, but it told him she was no longer used to being in a man’s arms like this. The thought warmed him.

  And then she pushed against him and tried to sit up. “Um…I think you’d better leave.”

  He scowled and held her still, making her look at him. “We said no regrets, Danielle.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s Monica. If she comes by…If she sees you here…like this…” She winced.

  All at once he realized Danielle was frightened of her mother-in-law. She may not admit it to herself, but it was there.

  And after the little episode he’d had with Monica himself yesterday morning, he shouldn’t have been surprised. The older woman definitely had a way of disturbing people.

  Hell, the woman was disturbed, herself. And if she thought Danielle had gotten involved with him—worse, was sleeping with him—she’d be more than disturbed. Seeing Danielle’s reaction now, it suddenly didn’t seem so far-fetched for Monica to hurt her and the baby. And he knew he could only protect them so much. He swallowed hard. God, if Monica hurt either one of them, he’d never forgive himself.

  A though crystallized inside him.

  “Marry me.”

  Her head had gone back, her eyes wide in astonishment. “Wh-what!”