The Frenchman's Marriage Demand. Chantelle Shaw. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Chantelle Shaw
Издательство: HarperCollins
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The subtle tang of his cologne was tantalisingly familiar, causing her nerve endings to prickle.

      She did not want to feel like this, she thought angrily as she edged away from him. It was humiliating to realise that he could still affect her so strongly, despite everything he had done to her. But it had always been the same; she had never been able to resist him and unfortunately just about every other woman on the planet shared her fascination.

      The months she had spent with him had been the happiest but also the most nerve-racking of her life and her ever-present fear that he would tire of her had added to her deep insecurity.

      Zac was one of Monaco’s most eligible bachelors and at the many parties they had attended he had always been the centre of attention. Women had flocked around him and made their interest clear with a bold smile or knowing glance loaded with sensual invitation. He had responded to their blatant flirting with one of his cool, faintly sardonic smiles, and she’d felt reassured. But Annalise Dubois had been different.

      The stunning glamour model had pursued Zac with relentless determination and had shamelessly flaunted her spectacular figure in clingy silks and satins that made the most of her eye-catching cleavage.

      Beside her, Freya had felt pale and insipid and she hadn’t been able to help but notice the way Zac’s eyes had lingered appreciatively on the Frenchwoman’s curves. Jealousy had been a green-eyed monster that festered in her soul, making her edgy and paranoid. She’d hated to be apart from him and had questioned his every move—every late night at the office or business trip that had taken him away for days at a time.

      She’d known that her behaviour had angered him, but as he’d grown increasingly distant from her, so her terror had increased that he had been tiring of her. The only time she had felt secure was when they had been in bed. There at least his passion for her had shown no sign of diminishing, but he had shut her out of every other aspect of his life and she’d felt as though her only role had been to provide convenient sex on demand.

      Choking back a cry, she dragged her mind from the past. She had spent the past two years determinedly trying to forget the life she’d shared with Zac and she must be mad to have agreed to return to Monaco with him.

      ‘Do you still live at the penthouse?’ she asked stiffly, seizing on the faint hope that he had moved from the elegant, marble-floored apartment where she had once kidded herself that he might fall in love with her.

      ‘Oui. The location suits me and I enjoy the view over the harbour,’ he replied coolly.

      Freya recalled the spectacular view from the penthouse over Monaco’s busy port and the vast stretch of the Mediterranean beyond. ‘Do you still keep The Isis moored there?’

      Zac nodded. ‘Unfortunately I don’t get to spend as much time on her as I’d like. Deverell’s is expanding and we’re opening several outlets around the world, including the new store in Mayfair. If your grandmother had picked any other day, I would not have been in London,’ he added tersely.

      His frown told her that he was cursing his bad luck to have been in London on the same day that Joyce Addison had arrived with Aimee, but Freya shuddered to think what would have happened if he hadn’t been there.

      ‘I’m glad Nana Joyce found you,’ she admitted quietly, forgetting for a moment that they were enemies. ‘I don’t know what would have happened to Aimee otherwise.’

      ‘Your grandmother would have cared for her, surely?’

      Freya’s face twisted. ‘I don’t know. When she found out that I was going to be an unmarried mother, she was adamant that she would have nothing to do with me or my baby. She bitterly resented having to bring me up and when I was a child I lived with foster parents for a while,’ she confided dully. ‘My mother had married and was moving to South Africa and my grandmother assumed she would take me with her. They had a furious argument when it turned out that I wasn’t included in Sadie’s new life.’

      Zac’s mouth tightened and he was aware of a faint tug of compassion. No wonder Freya’s self-esteem was nonexistent when she had been so cruelly rejected by her own mother. ‘Is that when you were put into care?’

      Freya nodded. ‘I think my grandmother believed that once social services were involved, Sadie would finally take responsibility for me—but instead she flew out to Durban without even saying goodbye.’ Now that she was a mother herself she found it impossible to understand how her own mother had been able to abandon her so easily. It was obvious that Sadie had never loved her, she acknowledged bleakly, but even after all this time, it still hurt.

      ‘After about six months I went back to live with my grandmother…but I was always afraid that she would send me away again and I tried my hardest not to annoy her.’ She thought of the years she’d spent skirting around her grandmother like a timid mouse, desperate not to bring attention to herself and pathetically grateful that Nana Joyce allowed her to live with her. It had been a dismal childhood and she was determined that her daughter would never feel so worthless or unloved.

      She jerked her head round and stared at Zac. ‘I love Aimee more than anything and I won’t allow anyone to hurt her. I agree we should do a paternity test—it’s time to set the record straight. I just hope you’re prepared for the result.’

      The fierceness of her tone shook Zac more than he cared to admit, but he immediately dismissed his doubts. She was bluffing, he reassured himself; or else her desperate financial situation had deluded her into believing he was Aimee’s father. Either way, he was not going to be drawn into believing her lies.

      ‘I’m prepared for the test results to confirm that you’re a common tramp,’ he said aggressively. ‘Finally you’ll have to accept the truth and move on with your life, as I intend to move on with mine.’ And ignoring her furious gasp, he turned his head and stared into the dark for the remainder of the flight.

      CHAPTER THREE

      TEN minutes later the helicopter landed on the roof of the penthouse and Zac lifted Aimee into his arms and preceded Jean Lewis down the steps. ‘Laurent, were you able to carry out my instructions?’ he greeted his butler.

      ‘Everything is as you asked, sir,’ the butler replied in his usual unflappable manner. ‘The nursery suppliers delivered a cot and other necessary furnishings and equipment, and the dressing room adjoining the fourth bedroom has been prepared for the child’s nanny.’ If Laurent was surprised by the request to prepare a room for a baby, his tone gave nothing away and his facial expression remained as bland as ever.

      ‘Bon,’ Zac murmured as he transferred the sleeping child back into the nanny’s arms. ‘Please escort Madame Lewis to the nursery and ensure she has everything she requires.’

      He swung round and walked back to the helicopter just as Freya reached the bottom step. She looked pale and tired and was clearly in pain but she glared at him when he reached her side.

      ‘There was no need for you to hire a nanny. I can look after Aimee perfectly well.’

      ‘How exactly when you only have the use of one arm?’ he asked impatiently. ‘Jean Lewis has excellent references and she’ll take good care of Aimee.’

      ‘Where has she taken her?’ Freya demanded. Her whole arm was throbbing and she felt light-headed with pain but she refused to admit it to Zac—any more than she would admit to feeling jealous that Aimee had settled so happily with Jean Lewis. Her steps slowed and a feeling of panic swept over her as she followed him into the penthouse. She didn’t want to be here and she didn’t want to remember the past, but memories were bombarding her.

      Zac travelled by helicopter as routinely as most people used a car and had regularly swept her off to parties and other glittering social functions outside Monaco, often flying along the coast to Cannes or St Tropez. The parties had always been wonderful, glamorous affairs, but Freya had only had eyes for him and even in a crowded room his slumberous stare had tormented her with the unspoken promise of sensual nirvana to follow. The hours until they could make their excuses and leave