Millionaire Under The Mistletoe: The Playboy's Mistress / Christmas in the Billionaire's Bed / The Boss's Mistletoe Manoeuvres. Linda Thomas-Sundstrom. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474070935
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not she got it! ‘Sitting about whining isn’t going to help anyone!’

      There was an almost comical look of shock on Clare’s face as she recoiled from her sister’s anger—Darcy was a bit surprised herself, as she rarely raised her voice to her sister. Instantly she regretted her outburst, not to mention her ungenerous thoughts. Clare could be thoughtless and selfish, but her kid sister could also be generous and loving, and not nearly as hard-bitten as she liked to make out.

      There was a scraping sound as the younger girl rose gracefully to her feet. Darcy was happy being herself, but she wouldn’t have been human if she hadn’t felt the occasional touch of wistful envy when she looked at her spectacularly beautiful sister. Occasionally on bad days, when her hair was particularly unruly and the bathroom scales told her things she’d rather not know, she couldn’t help but think that it would be nice if—just once—someone took notice of her when she walked into a room beside her gorgeous sister.

      Seeing her sister stand there, tall, willowy and with a face and figure that would have stood out as exceptional on any catwalk, Darcy knew this was only going to happen in her wildest dreams.

      Clare had no qualms about using her looks when it suited her, but she’d never had any intention of making her living out of them. Thanks to a big injection of capital from her parents, her dreams of becoming a fashion designer were well on the way to becoming a reality. She’d started her own business straight from art college and she had ambitious plans for her fashion label.

      ‘We’re all missing her, Clare,’ Darcy said quietly. From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry reach across and hug his dad and the emotional lump in her throat ached.

      ‘I know,’ Clare admitted huskily. ‘Sorry. Is the other thing true, or is Nick winding me up…?’

      ‘Is what true…?’ Darcy responded cagily. What had Nick the wind-up artiste been saying this time? she wondered, shooting her brother a suspicious glance. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

      ‘Nick says that Reece Erskine…’ Clare murmured the name in a dreamy, reverential way that made Darcy stiffen in alarm ‘…is staying next door—which is very obviously impossible,’ she added quickly. ‘I suppose he is having me on…?’ Despite her conviction that this was a wind-up, there was a gleam of hope in her eyes as she appealed to her big sister.

      ‘Yes, he is staying next door,’ Darcy disclosed reluctantly. She watched her sister go pale with excitement.

      ‘Why would…?’ Clare began. ‘No, it doesn’t matter. Let me think… This is too marvellous…!’

      Darcy thought so, but she had mixed feelings—no, actually, they weren’t mixed at all; she didn’t like the idea of Clare thinking Reece’s proximity was marvellous one little bit.

      ‘It is?’

      ‘Of course it is, silly!’ Clare exclaimed. ‘Did you invite him for dinner, Darce…?’ Her lovely face creased with annoyance. ‘Of course you didn’t,’ she predicted critically. Her exasperation increased as the jerky little movement of Darcy’s head confirmed her suspicions. ‘Honestly, Darcy! What were you thinking of?’

      Reece’s tongue sliding smoothly skilful over her stomach…his burning eyes devouring her, the tiny quivering contractions that tightened her belly as she was overwhelmed by an almost paralysing desire to have him deep inside her.

      ‘Are you listening to me, Darcy?’

      The shrill, indignant sound of her sister’s voice broke through the sensual thrall of her recollections. Darcy was appalled and slightly scared by her lack of self-control.

      Sweat trickled damply down her stiff spine, and her cheeks felt as if they were on fire.

      ‘I haven’t got the time to have a dinner party, Clare,’ she told her sister gruffly.

      Her words fell on selectively deaf ears.

      ‘Better still!’ Clare, the bit firmly between her pearly teeth, enthused excitedly, ‘We could invite him to stay. Yes, why not…? According to Dad, the Hall is not fit for human habitation.’ She clapped her hands, her eyes glowing with enthusiasm. ‘Yes, that would be perfect! Is anyone going to answer that?’ she exclaimed, irritated by the persistent ring of the phone in the hallway.

      Jack rose from his chair and put his hand on Darcy’s shoulder. ‘I’ll go.’

      ‘Perfect for what?’ asked Charlie, who was growing bored with the subject, when his father had left the room. ‘I don’t see what’s so great about the guy next door. You haven’t even met him.’

      Clare turned to her young brother, her expression one of supreme scorn for his ignorance.

      ‘Don’t you know anything…? He’s one of the richest men in the country—he inherited a fortune from his grandfather and he’s doubled it, or trebled it, whatever.’ With a graceful flick of her wrist Clare dismissed the odd million or ten.

      ‘That would explain the Merc in the shed,’ Harry remarked thoughtfully to his brother.

      ‘Have you two been spying?’ Darcy exclaimed in a horrified tone.

      ‘No harm done, Darce,’ Harry soothed. ‘Nobody was around. We saw some guys delivering this bed, though—gigantic thing it was, so he must be thinking about staying.’

      Darcy, who knew all about the bed, tried to blend in with the furniture. If anyone looked at her now they would know—they’d just know…!

      ‘Is he as good-looking as he looks in the photos I’ve seen of him?’

      ‘I thought it was his money you were interested in.’ Harry received an annoyed glare for his insensitive comment. ‘I suppose you think he’s going to take one look at you and propose you share his bed and bank account,’ he sniggered.

      ‘It has been known,’ Clare confirmed calmly.

      The awful part was that her sister’s complacence was perfectly understandable—Darcy could see it all: Reece blinded by Clare’s beauty, wondering what he’d ever seen in the dowdy little sister with the funny nose. Why hadn’t she foreseen this? she wondered bitterly.

      If the loud, realistic gagging noises Harry made as he headed for the door dragging his twin with him were anything to go by, her comment made him feel sick too.

      Charlie seemed perfectly willing to follow his twin but he couldn’t resist a taunting parting shot. ‘What makes you think he’s not already got a girlfriend or a wife even…?’

      ‘Those boys get worse!’ Clare exclaimed angrily as the door slammed behind them. ‘He hasn’t, has he, Darce?’ she added worriedly.

      ‘How should I know?’ Helping her sister seduce her own lover was above and beyond the call of sisterly duty.

      ‘Well, you have seen more of him than everyone else.’

      ‘Something gone down the wrong way, Darce?’ Nick asked solicitously.

      ‘Do you want a drink of water?’ Clare asked

      Darcy wiped the moisture from the corner of her eye. ‘I’m fine,’ she protested hoarsely. The image in her mind of Reece’s powerful body slick with sweat, his powerful thighs quivering with need and power, made it difficult for her to formulate a suitable reply. ‘He didn’t discuss his personal life with me, Clare.’

      The indentation between her brows deepened as it struck her forcibly just how adept he’d been at distracting her when their conversation had begun to touch on personal areas, but then his methods of distraction were in a class of their own. Married men acted like that…what if he’d been lying all along…? Clammy perspiration broke out along her brow as her tummy tied itself in knots of apprehension.

      Darcy took a deep breath and firmly pushed aside her fears; this was her own insecurity at work. Reece wasn’t the type to resort to subterfuge—let’s face