The Debt Page 13

  The emerald gown swirled around me as we walked towards the entrance, a reminder of my role: Ash Evans’s girlfriend.

  I didn’t know how to be a girlfriend—hell, I was barely used to being a lover, and we’d only been lovers for a single night. Was I even going to be convincing? I could talk about cars for ever, but anything else? Plans for the future and weddings and perhaps a family?

  I hadn’t thought about those things. I wasn’t really interested in those things. My life was all about Australis.

  What about after this is over? What are you going to do about him?

  That, at least, was easy. I would do nothing about him. He’d been a lovely and unexpected interlude while I’d been in Europe, but that was it.

  In the meantime, I’d have to play the part I’d promised and hopefully do it well enough that he’d get his precious islands.

  ‘Don’t look so nervous,’ he murmured in my ear as we turned towards the entrance of the hotel, curling one arm possessively around my waist and drawing me close. ‘Just stick to our story and you’ll be fine.’

  I leaned into the heat and hard muscle of his body. ‘I feel like an imposter,’ I murmured back. ‘I don’t know how to be anyone’s girlfriend, let alone yours.’

  People stared at us as we entered the hotel, flashes going off as the paparazzi swarmed. Not used to it, I tried to ignore the attention.

  ‘You don’t have to know.’ He reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a matte black card that he flashed at the doorman. ‘All you have to do is act like you can’t wait to rip my clothes off. That should do it.’

  My mouth went dry at the thought of ripping off his clothes. Or rather, of pulling open his white shirt and touching the warm skin of his chest, sliding my hands over all that hard muscle.

  God...

  ‘Yes,’ he rumbled softly and approvingly as the doorman pulled open the door and we went inside. ‘That’s exactly the look I mean.’

  I flushed. If that was all it took to look like a girlfriend then this was going to be a piece of cake.

  A poised and beautiful blonde woman—Imogen Carmichael, apparently—greeted us at the hotel entrance, an American from the sounds of her accent, explaining about the various facilities in the hotel and giving directions. She greeted me without a flicker, her handshake firm and cool, just like her smile.

  ‘Right,’ Ash said, steering me down one high-arched hallway floored in white marble. ‘Time to find Delaney.’

  A flutter of nervousness collected inside me, but I tried not to think about that or how out of my depth I felt in my dress.

  Imogen had given us directions to the bar area—a big open space intended to give the feeling of a Bedouin tent, with lanterns of coloured glass hanging over ornate tables in heavy dark wood, and low divans covered in brightly coloured silk cushions. A fountain played in the centre, the splashing water in counterpoint to the murmur of voices and the low pulse of music.

  Ash steered me in the direction of one of the tables, where an older man sat, his white hair expertly coiffed, his smile welcoming as he stood to greet us.

  ‘Evans,’ he said warmly, reaching out to take Ash’s hand. ‘Glad you could make it.’ His attention turned to me. ‘And this is...?’

  ‘Ellie Little,’ Ash said. ‘Ellie, this is John Delaney, a business associate of mine.’

  I swallowed my nervousness and tried for a smile, shaking his hand. ‘G’day, Mr Delaney.’

  Delaney smiled. ‘Oh, you’re Australian. How charming. Please, call me John.’

  ‘Good to meet you, John.’ I gave his hand a firm squeeze.

  Ash’s arm stole around my waist again, pulling me close, his hand splayed on my hip, the heat of it seeping through my gown as if there were nothing between his palm and my skin.

  It was a very possessive hold and obviously for Delaney’s benefit, though some part of me found it thrilling in a way I wasn’t expecting.

  Was it weird to like the thought of being his? To enjoy the way he held me? As if he wanted the entire bar to know who I belonged to?

  It’s fake, though.

  Yes, it was. Which, in a way, made it okay for me to like it. If it wasn’t real, I could let myself enjoy the sensation of being protected, of having someone at my back in a way I hadn’t had before.

  Delaney’s gaze lingered on the positioning of Ash’s hand on me. ‘Don’t worry, Evans. I’m not going to steal her from you, though...’ there was a sparkle in his eye ‘...maybe if I were twenty years younger I might.’

  Ash’s smile was little more than bared teeth, the pressure on my hip increasing. ‘Try it.’

  Delaney grinned. ‘Relax and have a seat. I want to know how you two met.’

  We sat down on the divan, Ash not allowing an inch of space between us, the heat of his powerful thigh pressing against mine. ‘It was at a charity event in July,’ he said gruffly. ‘We got to talking, one thing led to another and the rest is history.’ He sounded impatient. ‘What else do you want to know?’

  Delaney watched us from his seat opposite. ‘I must say, I was surprised to hear you had a serious girlfriend. I haven’t heard anything about it in the media.’

  ‘No, because I wanted Ellie to stay out of the spotlight.’

  ‘Which I prefer,’ I added, putting a casual hand on Ash’s hard thigh. He was hot there, too, powerful muscles tensing under my palm, making me want to squeeze them, test them.

  Delaney leaned back in his seat. ‘So what brought you to London, Ellie?’

  ‘Work,’ I said truthfully. ‘I design luxury cars for my family’s company.’

  Delaney’s eyes widened. ‘Do you indeed? Impressive.’

  ‘I thought so.’ Ash’s arm tightened around my waist, the muscles under my hand flexing yet again. ‘At least, she impressed the hell out of me.’

  There was an element of certainty in the words that made me blush like a fool. As if he was telling the truth.

  Delaney clearly saw my reaction because he smiled. ‘I can see that. So...forgive me for asking, but what are your plans together? I like to know these things,’ he added, clearly for my benefit, ‘because Evans here is wanting to buy some islands of mine that have sentimental value. I wanted them to go to someone who is family-minded. I hope you understand.’

  ‘Of course I understand.’ I gave Ash what I hoped was an adoring glance. ‘So, our plans? Well, at the moment I’m considering moving to London permanently.’

  Something I didn’t recognise glinted in Ash’s blue eyes. ‘Perhaps I want to move to Sydney, pretty thing. Did you ever think of that?’

  The use of his silly pet name in public jolted me, the teasing note in his deep voice making me blush harder, the blood flowing hotter in my veins. ‘No, I didn’t.’ I tried to pull myself together, flicking him a look from beneath my lashes. ‘But you know I don’t mind where we live as long as I’m with you.’

  His gaze flared in a way that I was becoming familiar with, his competitive instinct rousing. ‘As long as there’s a bed, right?’

  I could feel my cheeks get hot, but I wasn’t going to let him win so easily. ‘I wasn’t aware we needed a bed.’

  There were flames in his eyes now, one corner of his hard mouth curving in acknowledgement.

  Delaney cleared his throat. ‘Well, please don’t let me interrupt,’ he said, sounding amused. ‘But I think you might be pleased to hear this news, Evans.’

  ‘What news?’ Ash didn’t look at him, his gaze on mine.

  The rest of the bar was beginning to fall away, the only thing in it the man sitting in front of me, staring at me with open hunger.

  And I could feel myself beginning to respond, the ache between my thighs intensifying.

  ‘I’m going to sell you the islands,’ Delaney said.

  ‘Good.’ The curve of Ash’s mouth deepened.
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  ‘It wasn’t a hard decision in the end,’ Delaney went on. ‘Not after Dumont withdrew his offer.’

  Ash froze, the fire in his eyes dousing instantly. Then he turned his head sharply in Delaney’s direction. ‘Say that again,’ he ordered, his voice rough.

  If Delaney was surprised at the change in Ash’s mood he didn’t show it. ‘Your half-brother called me a couple of days ago to tell me he was withdrawing the offer. Mainly because he knew you were keen on the property and he wanted to clear the field for you.’ Delaney smiled. ‘He said he owed you, which is such a generous gesture given how much he wanted to purchase them as well. But I thought, well, if that’s not family-minded, what is? And given that, plus your lovely Ellie here—’ he gestured at me ‘—I don’t think I could sell the islands to a better person.’

  Ash had gone statue-still, tension gathering around him like a storm cloud. I could feel it crawling over me, too, tightening my muscles and making me catch my breath.

  And I understood. The whole reason he’d come to Dubai, with me, was to steal those islands out from under Dumont. And now Dumont had just denied him. He’d conceded the fight.

  The warrior in Ash would hate that.

  Sure enough his blue eyes blazed like gas flames in his face, his scars vivid white against his olive skin. He didn’t just look angry. He looked furious.

  But... I got the sense that something else was going on here.

  His thigh under mine was like iron so I squeezed it, wanting to give him some kind of reassurance. But he stood, a sharp, jerky motion, then without a word he turned and strode away, leaving me sitting there with Delaney, both of us staring after him in shock.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Delaney turned to me, frowning. ‘I thought he’d be pleased.’

  I shot to my feet, the urge to go after him, to find out what was wrong and whether he was okay, filling me. I should probably have stayed to smooth things over with Delaney, but I couldn’t. If Ash was a bear with a sore paw, then someone had just stomped on that paw, making him roar.

  And I didn’t like that. I didn’t like it at all.

  ‘Sorry,’ I muttered. ‘I’ll just...uh...go see what the problem is.’

  Before Delaney could speak, I picked up my emerald green skirts and rushed after Ash.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ash

  I STRODE THROUGH the ostentatious, overblown nonsense of the hotel, paying no attention to the people scattering in my path, fury pounding in my blood, feeling absolutely fucking feral.

  I’d thought I’d won this petty little fight with Dumont. I’d thought I’d got one over on him, stolen those fucking islands out from under him, made life a little bit harder for him.

  But no, apparently not.

  Apparently he was the one who’d got one over on me. Because by simply handing those islands over to me, he’d won.

  He owed me, so Delaney had said.

  Over the years, he’d tried to pay me back the money he’d lost, but I hadn’t accepted it. Because he’d thought it was just about the money and it wasn’t. It was about the years of working hard, the long hours of all the various jobs I’d had in order to save that money. And my mother, the long hours she’d put in to earn her nest egg.

  The nest egg she’d lost because of me.

  Dumont couldn’t give me those hours back. He couldn’t give me back my mother’s broken trust, either.

  It’s not just about Dumont, though, is it? You don’t deserve any of this and you never have.

  My jaw ached, the pounding fury propelling me down another gleaming white marble corridor and up some stairs.

  No, fuck that. Of course I deserved it. I’d worked for everything I had. Fucking everything. My whole business was literally based on the blood I’d shed. My blood.

  I’d fought for it and I’d been expecting to fight for this too. Except he’d denied me. It wasn’t the money he owed me, it was the fucking battle.

  I strode down yet another corridor, not knowing where I was going. I had to walk off this rage because I wasn’t fit for any kind of polite company right now.

  The corridor was full of doors and I opened one at random, entering a lavishly appointed suite that had a huge canopied bed pushed against one wall, French doors opposite leading out to a balcony with lots of white marble fretwork.

  The parquet floor was covered with silk rugs and cushions, curtains of brightly patterned fabric billowing in the breeze coming through the open French doors. Another door led off the bedroom, probably into a bathroom.

  Obviously I’d stumbled into some of the Billionaires Club intimate suites.

  I turned around, intending to stride out again, only to come face-to-face with a flushed Ellie.

  She was standing in the doorway, one fist holding a bunch of green fabric out of the way, breathing hard, as if she’d been running to catch up with me.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I snapped before she could speak, furious that she was here when I was angry and no doubt dangerous. ‘Have you been following me?’

  ‘Of course I’ve been following you,’ she said breathlessly. ‘You just upped and left without a word. I wanted to see if you were okay.’

  ‘As you can see, I’m fine.’ I took a couple of steps towards her, hoping she’d get out of my way, but she didn’t.

  ‘You’re not fine.’ She tilted her head back to look up at me. ‘You’re furious.’

  ‘Move, Ellie,’ I growled, in no mood for her to argue. ‘You don’t want to be around me right now.’

  She didn’t move. ‘What’s going on, Ash?’

  No, I did not want to have this conversation with her. Not in any way, shape or form. I didn’t want to explain the rage that sat inside me, not when I could barely explain it to myself. And I certainly didn’t want her floating around in her gown with its plunging neckline and tight-fitting bodice, outlining the lovely shapes of her breasts and hips. How the green made her skin look creamy and her eyes glitter like emeralds.

  How it made me want to get rid of this rage by ripping that dress from her body and taking her down on the silken rugs right here, right now; to unleash myself on her lovely body, hold her down while I fucked away the fury that I could never quite seem to escape.

  But I didn’t want to do that. Not after what she’d been through with one man who’d hurt her already.

  And besides, I wasn’t in any mood to hear the word ‘no’ from anyone.

  I took another step towards her, making myself seem as big and as intimidating as possible, hoping to scare her into getting out of the way.

  But she only frowned, coming into the room and shutting the door behind her.

  Silly, silly girl.

  ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ I demanded, trying to get a handle on myself. ‘Get away from me.’

  She sniffed. ‘I don’t think so. You’re really pissed off about Dumont and I want to know why.’

  ‘I’m not explaining myself to you.’

  ‘No, well, of course you don’t have to if you don’t want to.’ Her chin lifted. ‘But I’m not going anywhere until you do.’

  ‘You’re a fool. You don’t think I won’t just pick you up and move you out of my way?’

  ‘Come on, then.’ Challenge burned in her eyes. ‘I dare you.’

  If she expected me to hesitate, she was wrong.

  I strode up to her and put my hands on her hips, preparing to pick her up and move her out of my way physically.

  But she only lifted her arms and wound them around my neck, her body leaning into mine. ‘Ash,’ she said softly. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

  And I felt myself freeze in place as the warmth of her began to penetrate, making the fire inside me burn hotter, turning it from anger into something far hungrier and more volatile. A seething mass of desire that somehow was only
encouraged by the soft note in her voice.

  Her eyes were the most perfect blend of gold and green I’d ever seen and framed by long, thick, dark lashes. They were full of concern, and I wasn’t sure why. In fact, I wasn’t sure why I mattered to her at all.

  ‘You know what I want to do, don’t you?’ My voice had gone deep and guttural, my grip on her hips no doubt punishing.

  She didn’t look away from me, nor did she try to escape. Her body was hot and pliant against mine as if she were exactly where she wanted to be. ‘No. Why don’t you tell me?’

  ‘I want to fuck you. Hard. On the floor. And I don’t want to be told no and I don’t want you to even attempt to take the wheel.’

  There was no fear in her eyes, not even a flicker. ‘It’s the fight you want, isn’t it? You need it.’

  I don’t know how she understood, but she did. ‘I’m going to be rough, Ellie,’ I growled. ‘I’m not going to hold back. So if that’s a problem for you, you need to leave now.’ Before her musky scent and the heat of her body stole what remained of my control.

  Her arms around my neck tightened. ‘I’m fine with it.’

  Something inside me pulsed hard.

  ‘You should be afraid of me.’ My voice was raw and rough. ‘You should be fucking scared.’

  Her eyes widened in genuine surprise. ‘Why?’

  I reached up and buried one hand in her hair, curling my hand into a fist, pulling her head back, and not gently.

  She gave a gasp but I couldn’t see any fear in her eyes, only small sparks of green and gold. Her lips parted and she touched her tongue to the bottom one, her gaze drifting down to my mouth then back again. ‘Is that supposed to scare me? Because I have to tell you, it’s having the opposite effect.’

  She didn’t know what she was taking on. She had no idea. Me in this mood? I was the baddest bet there ever was, though not if you were betting on me to win a fight. In this mood, I always won.

  I held tight onto her hair, the strands silky and soft against my skin, and leaned in, my lips almost brushing hers. ‘I suggest you change your mind.’