The Rich Man's Blackmailed Mistress Read online

  Her skin crawled. At least he’d never find out what had really happened. Everyone involved in that sordid business was, as far as she knew, dead, except for Derek—and she hadn’t seen Derek since she’d realised how he’d used and betrayed her.

  She remained stubbornly silent, eyes black in her white face, her cheekbones suddenly prominent above a mouth held under tight control.

  Kain tamped down a sudden, wild urge to shake the truth from her. He goaded, ‘You were lucky to get away with a spot of forgery—if that’s all it was—but I’m afraid I’ll feel obliged to tell Brent about your somewhat chequered past. Of course I can’t guarantee that he won’t tell others.’

  ‘Or that you won’t,’ she flashed, eyes glittering. ‘I don’t give a damn who you tell. You can’t prove anything.’

  ‘Mud sticks.’ He’d deliberately used the word forgery to see if she reacted. He’d seen her lashes flicker, but she hadn’t corrected him.

  Why would she? Forgery was almost honourable compared to blackmail—and the subsequent suicide of one of her victims.

  Coldly, ruthlessly, he went on, ‘If this becomes common knowledge it would make the Russell Foundation rethink your position with them. After all, they deal with huge amounts of money and in the charity business image is everything. To protect themselves I imagine you could be asked to resign.’

  That got to her. Her mouth trembled until she firmed it, only her eyes proclaiming her defiance. ‘I did not commit forgery.’

  ‘Then what did you do?’

  Great dark eyes glared at him. ‘Nothing but be in the wrong place at the wrong time,’ she said harshly.

  She almost convinced him. Get a grip, Kain told himself with harsh determination. She’d only been seventeen then, but she was older and tougher now and she had Brent and his millions in her sights. Accepting that diamond ring meant she was serious about taking him for what she could.

  Yet in spite of everything, dammit, he wanted her!

  His broad shoulders lifted. ‘Of course, if they’ve got any sense they’ll point out that part of their brief is to help those who are in strife. They could hold you up as an example of someone they’ve helped to turn her life around.’

  The last vestiges of colour drained from her face. ‘I loathe you,’ she said, every word sharp and clear and fierce.

  ‘Yes, I thought you’d hate that,’ he returned coolly. ‘In spite of everything, you’ve got pride.’

  ‘Because of everything I’ve got pride,’ she returned.

  It had taken her a lot of work to achieve it; she’d started out with none. Humiliation corroded her, but she had to convince him that she was innocent. Desperate, she hurried on, ‘I took nothing, forged nothing. Trust me, if I’d done anything illegal I’d have been prosecuted. I wasn’t. Doesn’t that tell you something?’

  Eyes coldly dispassionate, he examined her as though she was something slimy and despicable, and when he spoke it was with ruthless precision. ‘Only that it would hurt too many people to have to give evidence in open court.’ She stared mutely at him as he pressed his advantage. ‘If I’m forced—by your intransigence—to reveal your dirty little secret, I don’t need to tell you how difficult it will be for you to get any decent job in New Zealand.’

  He had the power to make good on his threat. New Zealand was small, its business communities closely linked, and it would take a unique HR department to overlook his accusation.

  All her hard-won savings had gone; she literally had no money to go anywhere else, not even to Australia. Without a job she’d have no way of saving more.

  Ruthlessly he went on, ‘And of course it will mean the end of your sideline as an events planner.’

  ‘No! There’s no reason—’ Her shocked voice dwindled into silence as she gazed at his impervious face. Of course it would be the end—an end to all her hopes and plans.

  ‘Surely you don’t expect anyone to trust a woman with a past like yours?’ he enquired silkily.

  Sable fought back a corrosive, futile sense of betrayal. It hurt in a previously invulnerable part of her that it should be Kain who was doing this to her. Somehow in the short time since they’d met he’d penetrated her defences and reached her on another, deeper level than the purely physical.

  She said stonily, ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I think you know.’

  Sable met his implacable gaze—steady, merciless—and realised sickly that she had no option. Her head came up. Flatly, tasting the bitterness of defeat, she said, ‘So what are your terms?’

  His lashes drooped, hiding any emotion. ‘You move in with me. You pretend to be in love with me.’

  The pretty little gazebo suddenly seemed like a prison, narrowing around Sable.

  ‘That’s impossible,’ she said thinly.

  ‘Nothing is impossible.’ His voice was deliberate and relentless. ‘If you’re honest about not wanting Brent, this will be the simplest and least painful way for him to give up on you.’

  Emotions rioting through her, Sable realised she was wringing her hands, their movements revealing her tumultuous, panicky thoughts. Stilling them she said urgently, ‘You run the risk of having him hate you. Family feuds lasting for generations have been founded on incidents less painful than that.’

  ‘He doesn’t hold grudges.’ He watched her with a clinical lack of compromise as he finished cynically, ‘And who can fight true love?’

  ‘No.’ Frantically Sable tried to control her rioting thoughts. She needed to get away somewhere—anywhere she could think without his presence scrambling her brain. ‘It’s a crazy idea, absolutely crazy. And even if it works, it can only make things harder for Brent.’

  ‘In the short term, possibly,’ Kain conceded, but then with a calm authority she found infuriating he went on, ‘I always consider the long-term situation.’

  She fought the unnerving feeling of being mercilessly backed into a corner, herded into a situation she could never control. ‘I can’t believe you’ve even considered it.’

  ‘It won’t be so bad.’ He spoke without emphasis, eyes never leaving her face. ‘It will involve some play-acting—but I’m sure you’ll cope. And as my lover you’ll be living in luxury. You’ll need clothes, of course, and money—’

  ‘I don’t want anything from you,’ she said between her teeth.

  ‘The labourer is worthy of her hire,’ he returned sardonically. ‘Think of it as an all-expenses paid holiday.’

  How could he be so cruel when he was toying with her life, her future? Sable got to her feet. In a thick, angry tone, she said, ‘No. No, I won’t do it.’

  He leaned back in his chair and examined her with narrowed eyes. ‘Sit down.’ When she stayed stubbornly upright he repeated in a steely voice, ‘Sit down.’

  ‘I feel better standing,’ she said brusquely, forcing her chin upwards, and then fell silent, unable to find words to express her outrage.

  Nevertheless, she was glad of the emotion because it banished—temporarily—the darkness of betrayal.

  And that was stupid, because she’d known right from the start that his kisses meant nothing…

  ‘Forget the past.’ His cool insolence grated unbearably on her overstretched nerves. ‘It’s the future I’m concerned with.’

  But when she took an involuntary step backwards he said in the same level voice, ‘Think carefully before you make your final decision.’

  Fighting a debilitating indecision, she scanned the hard, handsome face while her mind hesitated over equally painful choices. She could see no way out. In a low, fierce voice, she stated, ‘I won’t sleep with you.’ It was surrender, but at least she could salvage some pride.

  ‘Your decision,’ he returned with an indifferent shrug. ‘Of course, in return for your co-operation I’ll keep silent about your past.’

  ‘So you’re offering me a few weeks of luxury—just until your cousin comes back and gives up on any chance of marrying me—for my future?’ She didn’t even try to hid
e her scorn and frustration.

  ‘That seems an overdramatic way of looking at it,’ he drawled. ‘People like you always fall on their feet.’ He stood up, towering over her, his gaze as arrogant as the formidable contours of his face. ‘So what’s your decision?’

  Sable sent him a bitter look, wishing she had the courage to throw his obscene deal in his face and walk out of there with some shred of honour left. ‘I don’t have any option, do I?’

  ‘There are always options,’ he said ironically. ‘Do I take that as an agreement?’

  He was going to force her to say it.

  Bleakly, angrily, she muttered, ‘Yes.’

  Again she was subjected to a dispassionate, calculating survey. ‘Be aware I don’t take kindly to broken agreements,’ he told her. ‘Now sit down and finish your tea.’

  After a few seconds of staring mutely at his implacable face she sat down, but of course she couldn’t manage to drink anything. Her throat had closed, and she sat without speaking as she stared out across the estuary, clinging to her composure by a grim effort of will.

  She had no way of proving her innocence. Even when he’d apologised for misjudging her, old Mr Frensham had never revealed how he’d discovered that it had been his grandson who’d tried to blackmail some of his clients. Only her knowledge of her own innocence, and Derek’s abrupt departure from the village had convinced her of the identity of the perpetrator.

  Where Derek was now she had no idea; the thought of seeing him again filled her with disgust. No doubt Kain could find him, she thought with a touch of hysteria that frightened her. But no doubt he’d looked no further than the daughter of the town drunk.

  Mr Frensham had known her all her life, but he hadn’t believed her when she’d denied using his files to blackmail his clients.

  Kain’s kisses still burnt through her body, yet they’d been nothing more than a cynical exercise in power and control on his part.

  Breaking the silence, he said calmly, ‘I’ll take you back to Brent’s apartment to pack.’

  She got to her feet, refusing to ask whether he planned to imprison her here or in his penthouse.

  The trip back to Auckland was without conversation; she wished he’d turn the radio on so that she wouldn’t feel quite so threatened by the silence.

  He didn’t leave her in the apartment. Once inside he said, ‘I have a call to make.’

  At least he wasn’t planning to monitor her while she packed, she thought bitterly, heading for the room she’d been using.

  But once there she stood indecisively, her mind racing without result.

  Kain thought she was a fraudster and a cheat…

  He knew she went weak at the knees when he touched her, and he’d had no hesitation using that weakness against her. Her stomach hollowed. She faced a future that seemed unimaginably bleak, held to a decision she had been blackmailed into, because of something she’d never done.

  The door opened and he came into the room.

  Sable’s gaze flicked across his unreadable face. After taking a deep breath she asked unemotionally, ‘Why?’

  When he lifted one black brow she expanded, ‘Why is it necessary that I move in with you? We’ve only just met—are you such a fast mover in all your relationships?’

  ‘No, but this one is different.’ His smile was mocking. ‘This is true love, remember.’

  A sinuous little chill scudded the length of her spine. ‘And what’s going to happen when it all falls through? All the lies will be obvious.’

  ‘It won’t matter much once Brent is well and truly over you, because he won’t care then. Until that happens you’ll be my recognised live-in lover.’ He looked around, frowning, then fixed her with a diamond-sharp gaze. ‘I don’t share, and neither does Brent. Although we’re good mates he’s always been slightly envious of me. He’s not going to like the fact that you’ve moved in with me, but he’ll probably blame you for that, not me.’

  ‘Thanks a lot,’ she said unevenly.

  He said, ‘I could just tell him about your larcenous habits. He happens to be honest.’

  She turned away, her hands clenched at her side.

  Kain’s voice hardened even further. ‘Get moving. I’ll help you pack.’

  ‘You will not!’

  But when she still didn’t stir he strode towards the wardrobe and opened it.

  ‘Hey,’ she began, racing after him. When he ignored her she said between her teeth, ‘Touch anything and I’ll—I’ll—’

  His smile was pure male challenge, tight and cold and fierce. ‘You’ll what? Hit me? Try it, Sable.’

  Backed into a corner, she forced herself to surrender to a will even stronger than hers. ‘All right, I’ll pack. Just get out!’

  ‘I’ll wait in the hall,’ he said laconically and walked out.

  While she stuffed clothes into her old backpack and grabbed her sponge bag and cosmetics, Sable thought vengefully how she’d so enjoy shattering that domineering, arrogant male stance he used to impose his will on someone else!

  Her hands faltered while she zipped up the bag.

  Except that he was in the position of power so she’d never have the chance. Setting her jaw, she picked up her pack and marched out into the hall.

  Kain swung around the moment she came through the door. Without saying anything he held out his hand, and Sable gave him the backpack. Clearly carrying something for a woman was an automatic reaction.

  She said curtly, ‘I’m not giving up my job.’

  ‘I don’t believe I’ve suggested you do so,’ he returned. ‘Is this all?’

  ‘Yes.’ Not a lot for five years of earning, but she’d shopped carefully and saved every cent she could. Just as well…

  ‘You travel light,’ he observed.

  She stopped. ‘I need to clean out the fridge.’

  ‘Leave a note for the service people telling them you’ve left, and asking them to take away what you’ve left. You’ll want to drop the key off at the concierge’s desk as well.’

  Ten minutes later, feeling as though she were being marched towards an isolation cell, Sable reluctantly got into the front seat and kept her gaze fixed ahead when Kain eased his lean form in beside her and set the engine going.

  When they drove out she realised the sky had clouded over, a heavy pall of grey pressing down on the city, barely skimming the volcanic hills that gave New Zealand’s biggest city such a distinctive silhouette. In spite of the oppressive heat she shivered.

  ‘Are you cold?’

  He noticed too much. She could have sworn he hadn’t taken his eyes off the road. ‘No. This looks like cyclone weather.’ Her voice sounded thin against the hum of the traffic.

  ‘It’s not a storm, just a tropical low. Rain’s on the way with some wind, but it doesn’t look as though it will be a problem.’

  He drove well, guiding the big car through the central city traffic with fingers relaxed on the wheel.

  After several minutes she realised they weren’t heading for his apartment. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she demanded.

  ‘I have a bach on the west coast. We need some time together alone.’ Again his tone gave her no choice.

  Cooped up in a bach with him… Baches, by definition, were small. She shivered again. The homestead, which had seemed so like a prison, suddenly appeared the much better option. At least there she’d have had some privacy.

  ‘When are we coming back?’ When he didn’t answer straight away she said urgently, ‘I have an event to organise, remember? Things need to be changed, and there’s no way I can organise that from a bach on the west coast!’

  Kain said, ‘I’ll give you a cell phone for emergencies, and we’ll come back tomorrow night.’

  Only one night there; her weight of apprehension lifted fractionally.

  ‘And you will be, of course, perfectly safe.’ He paused, then added smoothly, ‘Or as safe as you want to be.’

  ‘I hope I can trust you.’ Her voice sounded raw
instead of scathing, and too vulnerable.

  ‘More—much more—than I can trust you.’

  That hurt, but one glance at his iron-bound profile told her that further protestations of innocence would be futile. He had her tarred as a cheat on the make, and unless by some miracle she could prove her innocence he’d always believe it.

  Hiding the debilitating hurt with tartness, she retorted, ‘That remains to be seen.’

  To her surprise he smiled, a movement of the beautiful mouth that sent a shivery little pleasure through her.

  ‘How did you manage to work your way into a position of responsibility after the debacle of your first job?’

  When she didn’t answer he sent a probing glance sideways. ‘Well?’ An underlying note made the word a command.

  Sable said curtly, ‘With a lot of effort.’

  Noting the purity of her profile and the reserved voice, Kain waited.

  When the silence had stretched too long she added with palpable reluctance, ‘I took a business degree at a polytech in western Auckland. But you probably already know that.’

  He did, of course. More interesting was that she didn’t tell him she’d worked an almost full-time job while she’d been taking that degree. Or that her course had been paid for by her father’s insurance money.

  Kain wondered what other schemes lay hidden in her past. At seventeen she’d been clever enough to get away with blackmail, aided by an employer who hadn’t gone to the police presumably because of her link to his grandson.

  Who’d been summarily dumped once she was off the hook.

  And that could well have been Brent’s fate if he hadn’t stepped in.

  Kain’s mouth compressed. Rumour had it that she’d seduced the man as insurance against prosecution. Rumour could well be wrong, but it could also be right. Whatever, Derek Frensham seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth.

  He noted the remoteness gathered around her like an icy cloak, and he was startled by a memory—of her mouth beneath his, soft and eager and infinitely seductive. His body tightened in an instinctive hunger. Despising himself for it, he banished the image to concentrate on driving.