Breaking The Playboy's Rules (Wanted: A Billionaire, Book 2)

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  He stepped close enough to touch her. Close enough to set her heart rate stampeding again. Close enough for her to see the tiny dark-chocolate flecks in his mid-brown eyes and the impossibly thick and long lashes that fringed them. Close enough for her to smell the light citrusy tang of his aftershave, redolent of sun-warmed lemons with a woodsy understory. He had shaved that morning, but tiny pinpricks of regrowth were already evident, suggesting he hadn’t been standing back and holding the door for everyone else when the testosterone had been handed out.

  Millie hadn’t been this close to such a virile man in years. Possibly ever. His sensual energy brushed against her in soundless waves, sending shivers, darts and flickers of awareness across her skin.

  Hunter picked up a section of her long silver-blonde hair and lightly trailed it across his fingers like someone inspecting a skein of priceless silk. His expression was inscrutable, all except for the dark intensity of his eyes. ‘Why are you frightened of me?’ His voice was low and deep with an edge of huskiness that made her skin lift in a delicate shiver.

  ‘I—I’m not.’ It would have sounded a whole lot more convincing if her voice hadn’t come out as a scratchy whisper. And if her heart wasn’t beating as if it was going to work its way out of her chest and her legs threatening to fold underneath her.

  ‘Liar.’ He gave a lazy smile and tucked her hair behind her ear, then lowered his hand back by his side. But he stayed close to her, so close all she had to do was move forward half a step and her breasts would be in contact with his chest and her pelvis in contact with his. Her breasts began to tingle behind the lace cage of her bra, hot little tingles that made her aware of her female form in a way she had never been before. A pulse beat between her legs—a delicate contraction of intimate muscles waking from a long hibernation.

  Millie licked her carpet-dry lips. ‘You’re too close to me. I can barely breathe.’

  ‘So, step back. I’m not stopping you.’

  She lifted her chin, her eyes warring with his in a battle of wills. He liked a bit of push-back, did he? She could give as good as she got. ‘Why don’t you step back?’

  His eyes smouldered. ‘I like seeing the effect I have on you.’

  Millie steeled her spine, iced her gaze and stood her ground. ‘You have zero effect on me.’

  The air beat with tension—sexual tension that disturbed the atmosphere like a galaxy of hyperactive dust motes.

  His gaze snared hers and there was nothing she could do to break the deadlock. ‘I look forward to making you eat those words one day in the not-too-distant future.’ The deep rumble of his tone sent a runaway firework fizzing and whizzing down every knob of her spine.

  Millie gave a tight-lipped smile when what she really wanted to do was slap his face for his arrogance. ‘Don’t hold your breath.’

  He gave a soft chuckle of laughter and stepped away from her and strode idly over to the door of his office, effectively bringing their private meeting to a close. ‘I’ll see you tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven.’

  Millie wanted to tell him where to stick his dinner date, but she needed him on side for the best result for her mother’s divorce. She needed him as an ally, not an enemy.

  And most of all she needed her head examined for looking forward to seeing him again.

  * * *

  Hunter closed the door once Millie left and walked back to his desk with a smile. Hot damn, but he was excited about their dinner tonight. Excited in a way he hadn’t been in years. He had never had to talk someone into having dinner with him before. Usually, he asked, and they said yes. But he’d had to convince Millie.

  Who knew how attractive a woman playing hard to get could be? He liked her spirit, the light of stubbornness in her grey-blue eyes. His office still carried a trace of her perfume, teasing his nostrils with the beguiling scent of sweet peas and sultry summer nights.

  It had been all he could do to keep his hands off her. Drawn to her with such fierce attraction, he had been tempted to kiss her to see what happened. But he wasn’t the type of man to force himself on a woman. He would only kiss her when he was certain it was what she wanted—or, even better, if she made the first move. Unless he had read her completely wrong, she was fighting her attraction to him. Stubbornly resisting the sexual energy that erupted between them.

  Was it because of her late fiancé? Beth and Dan had told him it had been three years since Millie’s fiancé’s death. At twenty-six, she was way too young to give up on dating. Not that he would be offering her anything but a temporary fling. He wasn’t interested in tying himself down to one person. He wasn’t interested in falling in love, the way his mother had fallen in love with his father and then had that love rejected, destroyed, poisoned by a brutally cold abandonment.

  Not that Hunter could ever see himself sink to the lows of his father. It took a special type of lowlife to walk out on a child with a disability and never see her again. A child who loved her father devotedly and who, to this day, still couldn’t understand what she had done wrong for him to abandon her.

  Hunter sat back at his desk and looked back over the documents Millie’s mother had provided. Alarm bells had rung as soon as Eleanora had walked into his office. He could definitely see where Millie got her stunning looks from but, unlike Millie, Eleanora had a submissive and compliant nature, like so many of his clients who got done over in a divorce—his own mother being a case in point. Financial abuse was a scourge—all forms of domestic abuse were—but he was not going to rest until he brought to light the dark dealings of yet another partner who thought they could get away with it.

  But he had a gut feeling there was more to Eleanora’s situation than either she or Millie were letting on. He had been a lawyer long enough to be able to read between the lines of what people said or didn’t say, the inner emotions they desperately tried to conceal. It was his job to make sense of the grey areas, the black spots, the shadows, the secrets and lies.

  He picked up the gold pen his sister Emma had bought for him for his last birthday, when she’d been out with one of her carers, and flicked it back and forth between his fingers, his mind replaying every moment of his meeting with Millie and her mother. Millie had answered for her mother as though she’d been the adult and Eleanora the child. He did it himself with his sister, because Emma had limited understanding of how the world worked and in many ways would always remain a child in an adult’s body. He clicked the pen on and off, his mind still ticking over like the cogs of a machine. He dropped the pen back on his desk and pushed a hand through his hair.

  This was exactly the sort of case he liked working on—bringing justice to those who needed it most. But, in order to do his job to the best of his ability, he needed to know the truth about his clients. The whole truth and nothing but the truth. And it was his job, his responsibility, to get it out of them, no matter what.

  CHAPTER THREE

  MILLIE RUSHED HOME from work later that day to get ready for her dinner with Hunter. Ivy Kennedy—one of her two flatmates—was in the process of moving out in preparation for her wedding in a few weeks’ time. She looked up from where she was kneeling on the floor, packing a box of her kitchen utensils, when Millie came in.

  ‘How did your meeting with Hunter Addison go? Is he going to act for your mum?’

  Millie slipped her tote bag off her shoulder and hung it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. ‘Yep. It went well. He’s organising a forensic accountant to go over all of mum’s accounts to see if there are any irregularities. She was so relieved, I thought she was going to hug him.’

  Ivy got up from the floor and pushed her auburn hair out of her face. ‘I’m so glad you were able to put your prejudices aside and contact him again.’ She smiled and added playfully, ‘You obviously didn’t completely burn your boats with him. He wouldn’t have offered to do it if he couldn’t stand a bar of you. Ha-ha, no pun intended.’


  Millie was conscious of her cheeks heating and turned away on the pretence of taking her phone out of her tote bag. ‘It’s just another case for him. Nothing else.’

  Ivy frowned and came a little closer. ‘Is something wrong? You seem a little distracted. I thought you said the meeting went well?’

  ‘It did, but this fourth divorce has made me realise how truly vulnerable Mum is, and how I can’t really protect her the way I want to. I feel like I’ve let her down yet again. But I have my own business to run and I don’t want to fail at it. I don’t know how I can continue to be a good daughter and a good businesswoman at the same time.’

  ‘Why do you always feel so responsible for your mum?’ Ivy asked. ‘She’s an adult—and, yes, like my mum she’s been terribly unlucky in her relationships—but that’s not your fault. Anyway, you have your own life to live. You gave so much of it up for Jules, helping him through his treatment and so on. You can’t keep putting your own needs on hold indefinitely.’

  Millie wished she could share the burden of her mother’s problems but for years she had kept silent out of respect for her mother’s feelings. She trusted her friends, Ivy and Zoey, would be nothing but supportive and understanding if she told them, but she had kept it a secret for so long, she didn’t know how to put it into words. Would they feel hurt she hadn’t told them earlier? And, if she revealed that secret, how soon before she revealed her own more shameful one?

  She hadn’t been, and wasn’t still, in love with Julian.

  Millie looked at her friend and grimaced ruefully. ‘I only hope she doesn’t fall for another guy who only wants her for her beauty and her money, or at least what’s left of her money.’

  Ivy gave her a warm hug. ‘You’re a wonderful daughter and a wonderful support to everyone who knows and loves you.’ She leaned back, smiled and added, ‘And you’ll make a wonderful bridesmaid. Will you do it? I want you and Zoey to be my bridesmaids. Zoey has already said yes, and it would be just divine if you did too.’

  Millie smiled back, thrilled to be asked. ‘Oh, wow, yes, of course! I’ve never been a bridesmaid before.’

  Ivy glanced at the ring on Millie’s left hand, a small frown of concern etched on her features. ‘You won’t find it...triggering, given you didn’t get to have your own wedding?’

  Millie shook her head, painting a smile on her mouth. ‘I’ll be fine. I’m just so happy you and Louis found each other.’

  ‘I hope you find someone as special as Louis,’ Ivy said, glowing with happiness at her upcoming wedding to the man of her dreams. ‘Hey, maybe you and Hunter Addison will hit it off. Opposites attract and all that!’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Millie screwed up her nose, as if being with Hunter was the worst thing she could ever imagine.

  Ivy’s eyes began to twinkle. ‘Never say never, my girl. Look what happened to me.’

  Millie gave her a quelling look. ‘You actually liked Louis and were already friends with him before you fell in love with each other. Hunter Addison and I can’t spend an evening together without getting into a fight. Which is a problem because, in about an hour, I’m going to be spending the evening with him.’

  Ivy gasped. ‘On another date, you mean? Seriously?’

  Millie shifted her lips from side to side. ‘It’s just dinner. I think he’s only asked me because he’s arrogant enough to assume I won’t give him the brush-off a second time.’

  ‘And will you?’ Ivy asked, eyebrows raised. ‘Give him the brush-off?’

  Millie affected a laugh. ‘But of course. He’s not my type.’

  And he damn well better stay that way, otherwise she was going to be in seriously big trouble.

  * * *

  Hunter arrived right on the dot of seven and Millie answered the door to his brisk knock with a cool smile on her face. ‘Hi.’ She tried not to notice how gorgeous he looked in a butter-soft black leather jacket and dark trousers teamed with a white open-necked shirt. Tried but failed. Her pulse kicked up its pace and her senses swooned at the crisp citrus notes of his aftershave and the dark glitter in his gaze.

  ‘Hello there.’ His deep voice did strange things to her heart rate, so too did the way his eyes ran over her baby-blue knee-length dress and cream pashmina wrap. ‘You look very beautiful. That colour brings out the blue in your eyes.’

  ‘Thank you.’ A flutter of nerves erupted in her belly and she took a steadying breath, releasing it in a stuttered stream.

  Hunter quirked a dark brow at her. ‘Nervous?’

  Millie lifted her chin and speared his gaze. ‘Should I be?’

  He lifted a hand to her face and trailed his fingertip from the top of her cheekbone to the base of her chin, his touch so light it barely grazed her, and yet her skin tingled as if touched by fire. ‘Not with me.’ His voice had gone down another semitone—deep, gravelly, sensual.

  Millie rolled her lips together and looked at the open neck of his shirt where she could see a sprinkling of his dark chest hair—a heady reminder of the male hormones powering through his body. ‘It’s been a while since I went out to dinner with a guy.’ She gave him a rueful smile and added, ‘Well, apart from with you that last time, I mean.’

  He gave a lopsided smile in return. ‘Let’s not talk about that night, hmm?’ He placed his hand on her elbow. ‘Shall we go? My car is just down the street a bit.’

  Millie was conscious of the gentle warmth of his hand at her elbow, guiding her to where his car was parked a few doors down from her flat. His touch sent little aftershocks through her body. At six foot four, he towered over her, even though she was wearing heels. She had rarely worn heels going out with Julian, as he had only been a couple of inches taller, and somehow she had got into the habit of wearing flats so as not to make him feel inadequate.

  Hunter helped her into the car, and she thought of all the times the role had been reversed in her relationship with Julian. Not that Julian had been able to help it, of course, but Millie had been the one to help him into the car, pulling down his seatbelt and making sure he was comfortable at all times and in all places. She had morphed into his carer rather than his partner and she’d had to suppress her resentment at how the tables had turned. Julian hadn’t been to blame—it was his illness. If anyone had been to blame, it was her for not being honest with him from the get-go.

  They spoke about inconsequential things on the way to the restaurant—the weather, the news, the state of the economy—and all the while Millie was aware of him sitting close enough for her to reach out and touch him. He drove with competence and care, no risks or tricky manoeuvres, but with patience and consideration for the other road users. Her gaze kept going to his left thigh, and she wondered what it would feel like to run her hand up and down those powerful muscles. To feel them bunch under the gentle pressure of her fingers, to explore his body in intimate detail.

  Millie turned her gaze to the front of the car and sat up straighter in her seat, annoyed with the way her mind kept wandering into such dangerous territory. Why was she so darn attracted to him? She hadn’t thought herself the shallow looks-are-everything type. She hadn’t thought herself all that impressed by a man’s wealth or status. She hadn’t thought she could ever be tempted to sleep with a man again.

  That part of her life was over...wasn’t it?

  A few minutes later, Hunter led her into a fine-dining restaurant in Mayfair. They were taken to their table by a courteous waiter who addressed Hunter by name. Within a short time, they were seated with drinks in front of them. Hunter had declined alcohol, and she was secretly impressed he had made that choice, given he was driving. She had opted for mineral water again, keen to keep her head in his disturbingly attractive company.

  Hunter raised his glass of Indian tonic water, his mouth tilted in a crooked smile. ‘So, here’s to second chances.’

  With just a moment’s hesitation, Mi
llie lifted her glass to his. ‘To second chances.’

  The chink of their glasses sounded loud in the silence, their eyes locking over the table. A second chance at what—seduction? A one-night stand? A fling? The possibilities seemed to hover in the space between them. Sensual possibilities she hadn’t allowed herself to think about until now. What would it be like sleeping with a man like Hunter? A man who had sexual experience on a scale she hadn’t encountered before. She and Julian had been each other’s one and only lover. Childhood sweethearts who had drifted into an intimate relationship that hadn’t had a chance to grow and mature as it should, due to the impact of his illness. Over time, Julian hadn’t had stamina or patience for her needs, and she had settled for a peaceful rather than passionate life.

  But now her frozen passions were thawing, creating molten heat in her body she could no longer ignore, especially in the presence of Hunter. He triggered a fiery response in her with every glance, every touch. Who knew what would happen if he kissed her?

  Could she risk such a conflagration of the senses?

  Millie finally managed to drag her eyes away from his mesmerising gaze and took a tentative sip of her mineral water, wishing now she had asked for something stronger.

  ‘Tell me about your fiancé.’ The request was bluntly delivered, a command rather than a question, and it jolted her as if he had slammed his hand down on the table.

  She drew in a quick breath and put her glass down, not quite meeting Hunter’s gaze. ‘I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.’ She wasn’t going to spill all to him of all people. She hadn’t even told her best friends the truth about her relationship with her late fiancé. Even her own mother knew nothing of Millie’s tortured emotions over Julian.