Read Online Mistress By Blackmail: International Billionaires I: The Italians by Caro LaFever - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Caro LaFever
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her an amazed look over his shoulder. “I’ve done you a favor and disposed of it.”
“You had no right.”
“If that is the best you have, it is a good thing I came into your life.”
“The worst day of my life was when you came into it.” No truer words could she have spoken and she hoped like hell they cut his hide.
To her irritation, amusement crossed his face. His eyes twinkled as he sat down and waved her to the other chair. “Let’s at least eat before you continue to harangue me.”
One hairy leg appeared as the duplicate of her bathrobe slid off his body. Her gaze unwillingly gravitated to the strong, flexing muscles, ending at his feet. The man had gorgeous feet. They were long, the arch graceful, the toes elegant.
Elegant toes?
Had she lost her mind?
His chuckle yanked her attention to his face. The silver eyes sparkled at her. The sunshine shone on his dark hair, turning the strands into a mix of gold and mahogany.
“You appear hungry for something besides food,” he teased.
“Not at all.” She met his gaze with a fierce glare.
“Then come.” He waved her toward the table. “Have something to eat and you’ll have the energy to snarl at me once more.”
Her tummy rumbled. It had been more than twenty-four hours since she’d eaten on the plane. And she’d been too tense with him by her side to do much more than nibble. The smell of bacon and coffee swirled around her.
A woman had to have sustenance if she was going to win with this man.
Eggs Benedict with hollandaise sauce to die for. Chunks of potatoes with dill and pepper. Freshly squeezed orange juice. She appreciated good food when she had it. Which wasn’t that often. But when she had a few extra coins, she enjoyed going to farmer's markets. She’d buy the best she could afford and then experiment in the kitchen until she created a new and exciting dish to try with friends.
“You eat well.” His gaze never left her as he wolfed down his own portion. “I like that in a woman.”
She cut into the last part of her Benedict. His arrogance stirred the temper she’d managed to squelch as she ate. “I don’t care what you like in a woman.”
His lazy grin was her only response.
Laying her utensils on her plate, she fired the next shot in their ongoing war. “What? Not working? Why it must be nearly eight o’clock in the morning.”
“I have a meeting in an hour and then several after that.” He leaned back in his chair. “Don’t worry, carita . I’ll make plenty of money on this trip to keep you in style.”
“Well, gosh.” Her tone was all sweetness and light. “That will mean you’ll be busy throughout the day, won’t it? Keeping me in style will cost you a pretty penny. Keeping me happy will cost you more than you can give.”
The dimples flashed. “I believe I am up to the task in both areas.”
Fighting her blush down at his double entendre, she plowed on. “I guess that means I have quite a bit of time by myself. I have several sights I’d like to see.”
A frown replaced the dimples. “I’m afraid your day is already planned and it does not involve walking around New York City alone.”
His phone buzzed. He flicked it on. A line of tension made his forehead furrow as he read the text. If only the man had a clue about what was important about life.
Still, she wasn’t here to enlighten him, even if he paid her any attention. Which was doubtful. No, she couldn’t allow herself to soften towards him and give him some much-needed advice. She had a war to win. “I can plan my own day.”
His words were distracted, his gaze centered on his phone. “You’ll be spending the day at the hotel salon. The clothes are good, yet only the first step.”
“The first step to what?”
Her tone must have alerted him. There were problems. His focus swung back to her and his gaze grew icy. “I thought we had resolved this last night. I don’t appreciate this attitude you exhibit with me.”
“I don’t
“You had no right.”
“If that is the best you have, it is a good thing I came into your life.”
“The worst day of my life was when you came into it.” No truer words could she have spoken and she hoped like hell they cut his hide.
To her irritation, amusement crossed his face. His eyes twinkled as he sat down and waved her to the other chair. “Let’s at least eat before you continue to harangue me.”
One hairy leg appeared as the duplicate of her bathrobe slid off his body. Her gaze unwillingly gravitated to the strong, flexing muscles, ending at his feet. The man had gorgeous feet. They were long, the arch graceful, the toes elegant.
Elegant toes?
Had she lost her mind?
His chuckle yanked her attention to his face. The silver eyes sparkled at her. The sunshine shone on his dark hair, turning the strands into a mix of gold and mahogany.
“You appear hungry for something besides food,” he teased.
“Not at all.” She met his gaze with a fierce glare.
“Then come.” He waved her toward the table. “Have something to eat and you’ll have the energy to snarl at me once more.”
Her tummy rumbled. It had been more than twenty-four hours since she’d eaten on the plane. And she’d been too tense with him by her side to do much more than nibble. The smell of bacon and coffee swirled around her.
A woman had to have sustenance if she was going to win with this man.
Eggs Benedict with hollandaise sauce to die for. Chunks of potatoes with dill and pepper. Freshly squeezed orange juice. She appreciated good food when she had it. Which wasn’t that often. But when she had a few extra coins, she enjoyed going to farmer's markets. She’d buy the best she could afford and then experiment in the kitchen until she created a new and exciting dish to try with friends.
“You eat well.” His gaze never left her as he wolfed down his own portion. “I like that in a woman.”
She cut into the last part of her Benedict. His arrogance stirred the temper she’d managed to squelch as she ate. “I don’t care what you like in a woman.”
His lazy grin was her only response.
Laying her utensils on her plate, she fired the next shot in their ongoing war. “What? Not working? Why it must be nearly eight o’clock in the morning.”
“I have a meeting in an hour and then several after that.” He leaned back in his chair. “Don’t worry, carita . I’ll make plenty of money on this trip to keep you in style.”
“Well, gosh.” Her tone was all sweetness and light. “That will mean you’ll be busy throughout the day, won’t it? Keeping me in style will cost you a pretty penny. Keeping me happy will cost you more than you can give.”
The dimples flashed. “I believe I am up to the task in both areas.”
Fighting her blush down at his double entendre, she plowed on. “I guess that means I have quite a bit of time by myself. I have several sights I’d like to see.”
A frown replaced the dimples. “I’m afraid your day is already planned and it does not involve walking around New York City alone.”
His phone buzzed. He flicked it on. A line of tension made his forehead furrow as he read the text. If only the man had a clue about what was important about life.
Still, she wasn’t here to enlighten him, even if he paid her any attention. Which was doubtful. No, she couldn’t allow herself to soften towards him and give him some much-needed advice. She had a war to win. “I can plan my own day.”
His words were distracted, his gaze centered on his phone. “You’ll be spending the day at the hotel salon. The clothes are good, yet only the first step.”
“The first step to what?”
Her tone must have alerted him. There were problems. His focus swung back to her and his gaze grew icy. “I thought we had resolved this last night. I don’t appreciate this attitude you exhibit with me.”
“I don’t
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