The Tycoon's Scandalous Proposition

by Miranda Lee

  She prayed fervently that by the time they exchanged their vows in exactly seven days her feelings for her fiancé would have thawed enough for her to be receptive to his touch. Javier had yet to make a physical move on her but she knew that would change soon.

  They both knew what they were getting into, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. Theirs would be a loveless marriage, the only kind of marriage either of them could accept. She would continue to dance and enjoy her flourishing career for as long as she wanted and then, when she felt the time was right, give him babies.

  She would be Javier’s trophy, she accepted that too, but was hopeful that once they got to know each other properly, friendship would blossom.

  And even if friendship didn’t blossom, marriage to Javier would be worth it. Anything had to be better than the pain of watching helplessly while her mother withered away. Marrying Javier gave her the chance to extend her mother’s life and ensure it was a life worth living.

  Benjamin inclined his head, those eyes never losing their hold on hers. ‘Unfortunate but necessary. We had business that could not wait.’

  ‘Javier said the same.’ That was all he’d said when she had tentatively probed him on it when he’d returned to her an hour later. The tone in his voice had implicitly told her to ask no more.

  Her fiancé was a book that wasn’t merely closed but thickly bound too, impossible to open never mind read.

  His disappearance with his brother and friend had only piqued her interest because of the friend. This friend. Benjamin. She’d had to hold herself back from peppering Javier with questions about him, something she’d found disturbing in itself.

  It occurred to her that she was lucky she felt nothing for Javier. If her heart beat as rapidly for him as it did for this Frenchman she would have thought twice about accepting his proposal. She knew Javier would have thought twice about proposing if she’d displayed any sort of feelings for him too.

  The Frenchman showed no sign of filling her in on their meeting either, raising a shoulder in what she assumed to be an apology.

  ‘I’m sorry if you’re looking for Javier but I’m afraid he hasn’t arrived yet,’ she said when the silence that fell between them stretched like charged elastic. She had to remind herself that people were watching her. ‘I don’t think Luis is here yet either.’

  Benjamin studied her closely, looking for signs that Freya knew about the enmity between him and the Casillas brothers but there were no vibes of suspicion. He hadn’t expected Javier to take her into his confidence. Javier did not do confidences.

  But there were vibes emanating from her, as if her skin were alive with an electricity that sparked onto him, an intensity in her dark eyes he had to stop himself from being pulled into.

  He had a job to do and could not afford the distraction of her striking sultriness to delay him at a moment when time was of the essence. He’d planned everything down to the minute.

  Tonight, her dark hair had been pulled back into a tight bun circled with tiny round diamonds, her lithe figure draped in a sleeveless deep red crushed velvet dress that flared at the hip to fall mid-calf. Her pale bare shoulders glimmered under the ballroom lights just as they had done under the hot Madrid sun and there was an itch in the pads of his fingers to touch that silky looking skin.

  He leaned in a little closer so only she could hear the words that would next spill from his tongue. The motion sent a little whirl of a sultry yet delicate fragrance darting into his senses. He resisted the urge to breathe it in greedily.

  ‘I already know Javier isn’t here. Forgive me, Mademoiselle Clements, but I have news that is only for your ears.’

  A groove appeared in her forehead, the black eyes widening.

  He turned his head pointedly to the huge swing doors that led out of the ballroom and held his elbow out. ‘May I?’

  Her throat moved before she nodded, then slipped her hand through the crook of his arm.

  Benjamin guided her through the guests socialising magnificently as they waited for their hosts, the Casillas brothers, to arrive and for the fundraising gala to begin in earnest. They would have a long wait. The wheels he’d set in motion should, if all went as planned, delay them both for another hour each. He felt numerous eyes fall upon them and bit back a smile.

  When Javier did finally get there, he would learn his fiancée had disappeared with his newly sworn enemy.

  He had never wanted it to come to this but Javier and Luis had forced his hand. He’d warned them. After their last acrimonious meeting, he had given them a deadline and warned them failure to pay what was owed would lead to consequences.

  Freya was collateral damage in the ugly mess they had created, the deceitful, treacherous bastards.

  When they were in the hotel’s lobby, Benjamin stopped beside a marble pillar to say, ‘I am sorry for the subterfuge but Javier has encountered a problem. He does not wish to alarm the other guests but has asked me to bring you to him.’

  ‘Is he hurt?’ She had a husky voice that perfectly matched the sultriness of her appearance.

  ‘No, it is not that. He is well. I only know that he has asked me to take you to him.’

  He saw the hesitation in her eyes but gave her no chance to act on it, taking the hand still held in the crook of his arm and lacing his fingers through hers.

  ‘Come,’ he said, then began moving again, this time towards the exit doors.

  Her much shorter, graceful legs kept pace easily.

  A sharp pang of guilt punched his gut at her misplaced trust, a pang he dismissed.

  This was Javier’s fiancée.

  Benjamin’s sister, Chloe, worked as a seamstress at the ballet company and knew Freya. She had described her as nice if a little aloof. Intelligent. Too intelligent not to know exactly the kind of man she had chosen to marry.

  Money and power in the world you inhabited were mighty aphrodisiacs, he thought scathingly.

  What he found harder to dismiss were the evocative tingles seeping into his bloodstream from the feel of her hand in his and the movement of her lithe body sweeping along beside him.

  His driver was waiting for them as arranged at the front of the hotel.

  Benjamin waited until she was sitting in the car before following her in, staring straight into the security camera above the hotel’s door as he did so.

  ‘Do you really not know what kind of trouble Javier is in?’ she asked with steady composure as the driver pulled away from the hotel.

  ‘Mademoiselle Clements, I am merely your courier for this trip. All will be revealed when we reach our destination.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘In Florence.’

  ‘Still?’

  ‘I understand there was some delay.’ An understanding brought about by his own sabotage. Benjamin had paid an aviation official to conduct a spot-check of Javier’s private plane with the promise of an extra ten thousand euros if he could delay him by two hours. He’d also paid a contact who worked for a mobile phone network to jam Freya’s phone.

  As they drove into the remote airfield less than ten minutes later she suddenly straightened. ‘I haven’t got my passport on me.’

  ‘You don’t need it.’

  Benjamin’s own private plane was ready to board, his crew in place, all ready to get the craft into the air the moment he and Freya were strapped in.

  He ignored another wave of guilt as she climbed the metal steps onto his jet, as trusting as a spring lamb.

  Within half an hour of leaving the hotel they were airborne.

  He inhaled properly for what felt the first time in half an hour.

  His plan had worked effortlessly.

  Sitting on the reclining leather seat facing her, Benjamin watched Freya. Her features were calm, the only indication anything was worrying her the slight tapping of her fingers on
her lap. He would put her out of her misery soon enough.

  ‘Drink?’ he asked.

  Her eyes found his and held them for the longest time before blinking. ‘Do you have tea?’

  ‘I think something stronger.’

  ‘Do I need something stronger?’

  Not yet she didn’t.

  ‘No, but a drink will help you relax, ma douce.’

  Her throat moved, the generous lips pulling together. Then she loosened her tight shoulders and nodded.

  Benjamin summoned a member of his cabin crew. ‘Get Mademoiselle Clements a drink, whatever she wants. I will have a glass of port.’

  Soon their drinks had been served and Freya sipped at her gin and tonic. Her forehead was pressed to the window, her gaze fixed on the dark night sky. She covered her mouth and stifled a yawn.

  ‘You are tired?’ he asked politely.

  A quick, soft shake of her head that turned into a nod that morphed into another yawn. When she met his gaze there was sheepish amusement in her eyes. ‘Flying makes me sleepy. I’m the same in cars. Are you sure Javier is okay?’

  ‘Very sure. Your seat reclines into a bed. Sleep if you need to.’

  ‘I’ll be fine, thank you.’ Another yawn. Another sip of her drink.

  He observed her fight to keep her eyes open, the lids becoming heavier followed by a round of rapid blinking, then heavying again.

  A few minutes later her eyes stayed closed, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm.

  He leaned forward and carefully removed the glass from her slackening fingers.

  Her eyes opened and stared straight into his.

  A shot of something plunged into his heart and twisted.

  Her lips curved in the tiniest of smiles before her eyes fluttered back shut.

  Benjamin closed his eyes and took a long breath.

  There was something about this woman he reacted to in a way he could not comprehend. It unnerved him.

  Through all the legal battles he’d been going through these past two months and as the full extent of the Casillas brothers’ treachery had become sickeningly clearer, Freya’s face had kept hovering into his thoughts.

  He stared at it now, watching her sleep through the dimmed cabin lights, absorbing the features that had played in his mind like a picture implanted into his brain.

  It was fortuitous that she should sleep. It would make the difficult conversation they must have easier if they weren’t thirty-five thousand feet in the air.

  Let her have a little longer of oblivion before she learned she had been effectively kidnapped.

  Copyright © 2018 by Michelle Smart

  ISBN-13: 9781488083327

  The Tycoon’s Scandalous Proposition

  First North American publication 2018

  Copyright © 2018 by Miranda Lee

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