The Tycoon's Blackmailed Mistress

The Tycoon’s Blackmailed Mistress
Maxine Sullivan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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For Serena Tatti

Terrific Writer and Caring Friend

“One of the Best”

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Coming Next Month

One

“We meet at last, Mrs. Ford,” Flynn Donovan drawled, looking into a pair of heart-stopping, exquisitely arresting blue eyes. In that instant, he wanted her. With a passion as absurd as it was unexpected.

For a moment the woman appeared startled, then whatever she saw made her delicate chin rise and her delicious mouth tighten. “I’m sorry to disturb you…” she said coolly.

Disturb him? Hell, despite her poise, Danielle Ford radiated a sex appeal that reached out and grabbed him by the…throat.

“Mr. Donovan, you sent a letter demanding repayment of a loan my husband and I—”

Suddenly he was angry with her for being so damn gorgeous on the outside and so damn dishonest within. He knew her type. Robert Ford had said his wife was superb at acting and that her “innocent” look could hook a man until she got all she could out of him. He wasn’t fool enough to believe everything Robert Ford had said, but any woman married to that liar and cheat must be tarred with the same brush.

“Don’t you mean your late husband?” he snapped, flicking his pen on the desk.

Her slim shoulders tensed, even as her eyes reflected surprise at his tone. “My late husband, then.” She took a breath. “About the letter. It says I owe you two hundred thousand dollars but I have no idea what this is about.”

“Come now, Mrs. Ford,” he mocked. “What you actually thought was that you’d try and con your way out of repaying back the loan you took out from my company.”

She gasped, her thick lashes blinking in confusion. “But I don’t know anything about a loan. And certainly not for such an amount. There must be some mistake.”

And he was supposed to believe that?

“Don’t play dumb.”

A blush stained her cheeks, making her appear oddly vulnerable.

Or guilty, but then, a person could only feel guilty if they had a conscience. He doubted this woman had one.

“I assure you I’m not playing dumb, Mr. Donovan.”

His jaw clenched. “Is this the same assurance your husband gave us when he borrowed the money from one of my loan officers?” He pushed some papers across his desk toward her. “Isn’t that your signature alongside your husband’s?”

Her eyes clouded with apprehension as she took a few steps closer, before looking down at the paperwork.

Then she paled and sank onto a chair. “It looks like my signature but…” Her voice trailed away to nothing.

Oh, so that’s how she was going to play it. Robert had been right about her. She wasn’t about to admit to anything, not even when the evidence of her guilt was right in front of her.

“It is your signature, Mrs. Ford,” he said, ignoring her “helpless female” act. “And now you owe me two hundred thousand dollars.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide and panicked. “But I don’t have that kind of money.”

He knew that already. After some investigating he’d learned she had exactly five thousand dollars in the bank here in Darwin. The rest she’d flittered all away, as evidenced by a variety of empty accounts around the rest of Australia. He was beginning to feel sorry for that poor guy who’d married her. She’d turn any man’s head.

God, she was beautiful.

And that body…

His gaze slid down her simple pink dress and matching jacket that made a soft statement of style, to the slender legs revealed by the hem of her dress.

Nice.

Very nice.

They’d look really sexy in a tub full of fluffy white bubbles, one shapely calf raised as she smoothed soap over its silky length, the water’s edge just stopping short of covering her breasts. The image aroused him without any effort at all, sending the blood pounding through his veins, telling him he needed a woman.

This woman.

“Then perhaps we can come to a compromise?” he said, leaning back in his leather executive chair to watch her more closely.

Her eyelids gave the slightest flutter, before she angled her chin, as if daring him to take another look. For a moment he was tempted.

She pulled herself up straighter. “Maybe I can pay you back a little each week. It’ll take a long time but—”

“Not good enough.” There was only one payment he wanted now.

Her lips parted in surprise, their perfect bow shape too damn appealing. “Wh-what?”

“You’ll have to do better than that, I’m afraid.”

She hesitated, as if trying to understand. “I’m not sure—”

“You’re a very beautiful woman, Mrs. Ford.”

Her eyes held his for a heartbeat, then a pulse began to leap crazily in a tiny vein in her neck. “I’ve been widowed for two months, Mr. Donovan. Have you no sensibility?”

“Apparently not.” He wanted to place his lips on that neck and feel her heart beating against him.

She let out a sigh. “Then you must tell me how I can repay you. I can certainly do with some money at the moment.”

Ah, yes. Money is what it came down to with this woman. His gut knotted at the reminder of how mercenary she was.

“Sorry, sweetheart. You don’t get another cent from me until you pay back the loan. In full.”

Her cheekbones instantly reddened. “Oh, but I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did.”

She looked taken aback for just a moment, then quickly recovered. “Oh, yes, of course I did,” she said with sarcasm. “I’ll take as much money as I can get out of you. I’m good at that, you know.”

As a bluff, it didn’t work. He knew what she was trying to do. “Yes, you’re very good at that.”

She threw him a glare. “I’m glad you can read my mind. I hope you can read what I’m thinking right now?”

He felt a ripple of amusement. “A lady shouldn’t know such words.”

“A lady shouldn’t have to sit here and listen to you blackmail her, either.”

“Blackmail is an ugly word, Danielle.” He rolled the name over in his mind the way he wanted to roll her over in bed. “I merely want what is mine.”

And she was one of them.

Her lips pressed together briefly before she answered, “No, you want revenge. I’m sorry, but I can’t be blamed for my husband’s mistakes.”

Flynn stared hard. “What about your mistakes, Danielle? You signed for the loan, didn’t you? Therefore you are just as liable to pay me back.”

“With my money or with my body?” she scoffed.

He arched a brow. “I wonder how many hot tropical nights two hundred thousand dollars is worth?” He thought for a moment, then answered his own question. “Hmm. About three months, I’d say.” Expensive, yes, but he knew he’d pay that for just one night with this woman.

Her blue eyes turned disbelieving, as if only now realizing he was serious. “Three months! You expect me to sleep with you for three months?”

His gaze lingered on her mouth. So perfect. “I didn’t say anything about sleeping with me, though I guarantee it wouldn’t be a hardship,” he said, as her surprisingly sensual fragrance wafted across the desk and slid into him, stirring his blood. “No, I have a lot of engagements coming up and I could do with a…mistress to accompany me.”

Awareness flickered in the back of her eyes, then was quickly blanked out.

She got to her feet. “Mr. Donovan, you’re dreaming if you think I’ll give my time…or my body…to a man like you. Let me suggest you wake yourself up and find a woman who would actually welcome your company.” With those words, she spun on her heels and left the office.

In cynical amusement, Flynn watched her go, then got to his feet and stood looking out the huge window of Donovan Towers to the sparkling expanse of harbor spread before him. He rather liked her response. It was a far cry from some of the females he’d been out with lately, who’d left him cold with their easy acquiescence to anything remotely connected to bedroom games.

And then he remembered.

Danielle Ford was more sinner than saint. Her token resistance was only a game, one she’d already played with her late husband. From what Robert Ford had said, she’d taken him on a wild ride during their marriage, though he doubted Robert had needed any encouragement. They had obviously deserved each other. No, he wouldn’t forget she had belonged to Robert Ford and that the two of them had reneged on a loan. A pair well-matched.

He muttered a swearword and turned back to his desk, knowing he had a morning of video conferences with personnel in Sydney and Tokyo ahead of him, yet for once the thought of work didn’t appeal. Not even the promise of a particularly satisfying takeover tomorrow.

He preferred instead another sort of takeover, with a woman who had gorgeous blue eyes and golden-blond hair and a willowy body.

Despite her protestations, he would make her his mistress. No doubt she would sell her soul for a chance to rub shoulders with him and his billions.

After catching a taxi home, Danielle still trembled from her encounter as she let herself into her air-conditioned apartment. She’d come to love living in this tropical paradise…this vibrant capital city at the top of Australia’s Northern Territory…but now there was a serpent in paradise by the name of Flynn Donovan. God, he had to be deranged if he thought she would pay off her debts with her body.

Her debts.

She swallowed hard and sank down on the gray leather sofa, her knees suddenly weak. What had Robert been thinking when he’d forged her signature on that document? Because it was a forgery, that was certain. She even remembered when he’d tried to get her to sign some paperwork. He’d said it was a business deal and he needed her signature as a witness. Only she’d felt uncomfortable and accidentally misplaced it. She heard nothing more about it from Robert. Pity she hadn’t read it before she’d thrown it away.

Two hundred thousand dollars! For what? It made her wonder what else he had done. Had she known her husband at all?

Not that Flynn Donovan would have believed her if she’d told him the truth. He clearly thought she was as guilty as her husband and any further attempt to refute that would have been met with suspicion.

She blinked back tears. This was supposed to be a new beginning for her. After three years of being smothered by Robert and his mother, she’d finally broken free after his death and moved into this luxury apartment. Living with her mother-in-law had been hard enough during her unhappy marriage, but since Robert’s death, Monica had been trying to manipulate her, just as she had her “Robbie.” And feeling sorry for the other woman’s loss, she had given in too many times to count.

But eventually she’d had enough. A Realtor who’d been an acquaintance of Robert’s had offered Danielle this penthouse at minimal rent. Signing the lease had lifted a lead weight from her shoulders. The place was beautiful and made her happy. She loved the spacious living room and open-plan kitchen, and the glass doors leading to the balcony looked over a wide expanse of ocean. Being surrounded by such beauty made her feel as if she could breathe again. It had been exactly what she’d needed, and better yet, it was all hers. For a year, anyway.

And now this.

Now she owed Donovan Enterprises a large sum of money and had no idea how she was going to pay it back. And pay it back she would. She just wouldn’t feel right about it if she didn’t. Robert had taken the money and she was Robert’s wife and, as much as she wanted to walk away from it all and say it wasn’t her problem, she couldn’t. It was her problem.

But the five thousand dollars she’d managed to save from her part-time job was woefully inadequate. Besides, she wouldn’t give that up. Couldn’t give it up. It was her security blanket, held in an account Robert had known nothing about. Thank God. He hadn’t wanted her to be independent, and she’d fought hard to hold on to her job during her marriage—against both Robert’s and Monica’s wishes. If she’d given it up to become a lady of leisure the way they’d wanted, then somehow she may as well have given up on herself.

No, she’d just have to find another way to pay the money back. And not through sleeping with Flynn, either, even though she couldn’t deny her heart had skipped a beat over him.

The tycoon had definitely been at the front of the line when they were handing out good looks, with the sort of handsome features that stole a woman’s breath and curled her toes.

Strong, silent and sexy. With broad shoulders more than enough for one woman to caress, not to mention the kind of thick dark hair that invited a woman’s hands. She could imagine feeling its shining silkiness beneath her fingertips.

Perhaps some would call her crazy for refusing to go to bed with a man with such remarkable dark eyes and a sensually molded mouth. She called it survival.

He was one of those men who expected everyone to do his bidding. She’d spent three years being smothered by a man who’d fought to control her and she wasn’t about to step back into another relationship like that—no matter how much money Flynn Donovan said she owed.

Two

The next day Danielle had just bent to pick up some broken glass when the doorbell rang, making her cut herself on one of the pieces. Sucking in a sharp breath, she quickly drew back her hand, relieved to see the cut was only small. She already had a lump on her head where the heavy gold picture frame had toppled onto her as she’d been adjusting it.

But all that was forgotten when she opened the door and found the stunningly virile Flynn Donovan standing there, dressed in a dark business suit that fit his body as if it were a labor of love.

“I heard breaking glass,” he said without preamble, his gaze taking in her orange-burst silk tunic over white pants, down to her white sandals, as if looking for injury. There was more in that look than necessary and she fought not to react. But her skin quivered anyway. That look was too seductive…too physical….

And then she remembered who this man was and what he wanted from her. At the very least he wanted money.

At the worst…

She forced aside her apprehension and shot him a cold look. “How did you get in the building? We have a security code, you know. It’s supposed to keep out unwanted guests.”

“I have my ways,” he said, dismissively, with all the arrogance of someone rich enough to get anything he wanted. “The broken glass?” he reminded her.

She raised one slim shoulder. “A picture frame fell off the wall.”

His eyes sharpened with a concern that was at odds with the forbidding set of his jaw. “Are you hurt?”

For a moment she was tempted to lie. “A small cut, that’s all.” Nonchalantly she lifted her finger to show him, but when she saw how much blood covered the tissue, she gasped.

He swore. “Danielle, that is no small cut,” he muttered, reaching for her hand, his touch scorching her. She tried to pull back…tried not to welcome the feel of his skin against hers…but he held firm.

To counteract the effect, she glared at him. “I wouldn’t have cut it at all if you hadn’t rang the doorbell just as I was picking up the glass.”

“Next time I’ll leave you to bleed to death,” he said brusquely, undoing the tissue to reveal the injured finger. He scowled as he examined it. “There’s a lot of blood, but I think you’ll get away without stitches.” He raised his head, his dark eyes stabbing her. “Any other injuries I should know about?”

Tell him no.

But the truth slipped out. “Only a bump on the head.”

“Show me.”

She winced where she felt the lump. “It’s nothing, really. It’s—”

“Bleeding,” he growled, moving in closer, touching her head.

She swallowed convulsively. “I’ll be fine.”

“Where’s your first-aid kit?”

“In the kitchen, but—”

“Right.” He cupped her elbow and started her forward with him. “Let’s take a proper look at it.”

Her skin continued to scorch where he touched. “Mr. Donovan, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than play doctor with me,” she said as they sidestepped the broken glass.

He shot her a masculine look that coiled tension inside her. His thoughts didn’t need to be said out loud to fill the silence between them.

As soon as she reached the kitchen, she quickly moved away from him and took the small box out of a cupboard to place on the bench. He followed her, then began searching through the contents. Taking advantage of the moment, she stepped back, grateful the kitchen was large and airy and far less intimate than two people standing in a doorway.

“Move that stool over there and sit under the light,” he ordered. “I’ll be able to see better.”

That was what she was afraid of. But, her heart thudding against her ribs, she did what he said anyway. Better to get it over and done with so he’d leave sooner rather than later.

He came toward her, the ball of cotton in his hand contrasting with the tan of his skin. And then he stood behind her, bringing a very male scent with him. She’d noticed it when he’d walked in but now the scent intensified like a potent wine, ready to lull her into blissful surrender.

She jumped when he brushed a lock of her blond hair aside and began dabbing at the cut. His touch was gentle yet probing, the way a man’s touch should be. Would he be the same in bed? Oh, yes, he’d know how to turn a woman on.

“Mr. Donovan—”

“Flynn,” he suddenly said in a rough voice.

She ignored that. “Mr. Donovan, I think—”

“How long will it take you to pack?”

That pulled her thoughts up short. “Pack?”

“For Tahiti. I have to go there for business. My jet’s on standby. We can leave within the hour.”

“Tahiti?” She spun to face him, barely wincing as his fingers brushed her scalp. Dear God, what was he saying?

His dark eyes watched her with a knowing look in them. “I have a house there. Our privacy will be assured.”

It fell into place then. He expected her to go away with him as payment for the loan. God, did he really think she would do such a thing?

“I don’t need any privacy,” she choked, strangely hurt. “I don’t intend to go away with you.” A burst of anger hit her. “Anyway, just who do you think you are? You snap your fingers and I’m to drop everything? Sorry. Your women friends may do that but I have a mind of my own.”

His eyes hardened. “Oh, come now, Danielle. Who are you trying to fool?”

She straightened her shoulders. “The only fool around here is you.”

His face tightened, making her aware of the firm thrust of his jaw and the broad plane of his forehead. “Don’t underestimate me.”

A frisson of fear slipped down her spine. This man had wealth, power and the right connections and he believed she’d done him an injustice. As much as she wanted to deny he could make life uncomfortable for her, she knew he would do it if pushed. She couldn’t afford that. There wasn’t only herself to think about now.

She moistened her mouth and tried to be conciliatory. “Mr. Donovan, please…I don’t sleep with men I barely know.”

“That isn’t what your late husband told me.”

She felt the blood drain from her face.

“I see you don’t like being caught out,” he mocked, seeming to watch her more closely.

Pain squeezed her heart. Robert…her husband…the man she’d been married to for three years…had told Flynn Donovan such lies about her? Why?

“Um…” She cleared her throat. “What exactly did Robert say?”

“That you married him for his money. And that you slept around and spent it all,” he said bluntly.

It was just as well she was sitting on the stool or she may well have fallen. How could Robert have said those things about her? She’d thought she’d loved Robert when she married him. And she never, ever slept around and she’d never wasted his money. Never.

Then she looked at Flynn Donovan. At that moment she hated Robert for his lies, but she hated Flynn more for his lack of compunction over her feelings. “I see. You obviously believed him.”

His lips twisted. “When he explained the reason for defaulting on the loan, I wasn’t actually concerned with character references.”

“Yet you lent the money to us based on character,” she said, her voice remarkably calm considering the turmoil inside her.

His eyes narrowed. “No, we based it on the fact that he was coming into money and would pay us back as soon as he received it. He seemed a good risk at the time. We didn’t take into account that you had the money spent before he could even get to it.”

Danielle remembered Robert mentioning something about coming into an inheritance from one of his aunts, but she hadn’t realized it was a large enough amount to serve as collateral for a loan. For him to have then spent that amount plus the two hundred thousand he’d borrowed from Flynn Donovan spoke of sheer irresponsibility.

And Monica? Had she known? Danielle didn’t think so. Her mother-in-law was well-off in her own right but had never discussed money and, in any case, she knew Monica had never suspected her son had a problem with money.

She certainly hadn’t suspected any problems, Danielle mused as she realized Flynn had walked over to the first-aid kit and was rummaging around in it. One thing was clear. No one would believe her if she chose to refute Robert’s claims.

“Why deny it?” Flynn said coldly over his shoulder, confirming her fears. “Your car alone cost fifty thousand dollars, not to mention your frequent European holidays and shopping sprees. Your credit cards were maxed to the limit, too.”

Credit cards? European holidays? Shopping sprees? She fought to take it all in. Had someone stolen her identity? It certainly hadn’t been her doing all those things. Robert had been the one to…

Oh, God. Is that what Robert had been doing on his frequent business trips? The ones where he’d wanted her to stay home as company for his mother?

As for the car, she’d had no idea of its cost. Robert had always seemed to have plenty of money and as far as she’d known, the car had been in his name only. He definitely hadn’t insured it. Or himself. If only he had, she could at least have paid back some of the money now.

And then something occurred to her. The holidays, the shopping, didn’t sound like something one did alone. Had Robert been unfaithful to her? Looking back, she knew he was selfish enough to want his cake and eat it, too. What sort of double life had he been living? And why didn’t that thought hurt as much as it should?

Suddenly she realized Flynn was in front of her, bringing her into the present with a rush. In that moment they were right back to one man, one woman.

Her heart gave a sudden lurch when he picked up her finger and covered it with the antiseptic cream before placing a plaster around it. The gentleness of his touch confused her. How could he be tender in one aspect and so hardhearted in another?

But she wasn’t about to show him her uncertainty. He would take advantage of it. “Mr. Donovan, you think I want you for your money, yet you’re willing to take me away with you? That doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” he murmured, his throaty tone faint but potent. “We were meant to spend time together.”

“Of all the…” She almost jumped to her feet but that would have brought her closer to him and at the last millisecond she stopped herself. His eyes darkened at how close she’d come to being in his arms.

She leveled him a look. “Don’t let me keep you,” she said, but cursed her husky voice and refused to allow the tip of her tongue to moisten her suddenly dry lips.

He cupped her chin with his warm fingers, holding her head still, as if he wanted to wet her lips for her. “You won’t,” he said huskily, his eyes intent on her mouth.

His head began to lower. She lifted her face up to him…ready…ready to become his.

And then he moved imperceptibly closer, and the movement broke through the fog of desire that seemed to swirl around them.

His? Dear God, what was she thinking? She never wanted to belong to another man again.

And definitely not Flynn Donovan.

She pulled her head back. “There is no way I’m going away with you,” she murmured, shaken at how close she’d come to kissing him.

Something flickered far back in those dark eyes before they flashed a now-familiar display of arrogance. “Is that so?” To prove his point, he lifted some strands of her hair from her cheek and tugged her toward him.

She held her head still, refusing to wince at the slight pain, unwilling to let him force her into submission. She wasn’t going to become his plaything. She couldn’t, despite the desire coursing through her.

“Do you think you could leave now?” she said coolly, determined not to let him see his effect on her. “I’m expecting a…” She paused deliberately. “Friend.”

He let her strands of hair drop back into place and drawled mockingly, “You have no…friend.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Perhaps I’ve been checking up on you?” He smiled in satisfaction when she jumped. “But that’s not how I know. A man just knows these things. You tremble when I touch you….” He touched her cheek. “See.”

She jerked her head away. “With revulsion.”

He gave a hard laugh. “That’s a new one. No woman has ever told me that before.”

“Then you’d better get used to it.”

“Why? Do you expect I’ll touch you a lot?” he mocked but his voice had a raw edge. His eyes raked over her. “No, you had better get used to the trembling. I intend to make you…tremble…often.”

She inwardly trembled now. “Stop playing games.”

“Oh, but the games have only just begun,” he said silkily. “You owe me money and I will collect.”

“Wh-what? Now?”

He seemed to take inventory of each feature on her face. “No. I’d rather wait and savor you in my own time, at my own pace.”

She felt as if her breath was cut off. “I’m not a delicacy to be enjoyed.”

“Really? I think you’d be very good in small bites.”

She snorted. “I would give you food poisoning.”

“Aah, but I’d enjoy myself first.” A sardonic gleam of amusement entered his eyes. “Just like you. Spend now, pay later. That’s your motto, isn’t it?” Without warning, one brow lifted with cynicism. “I wonder how many other people you’ve tried to cheat?”

She went rigid. She’d never tried to cheat anyone in her life. She’d always considered herself dependable and loyal. Even with Robert, she’d stayed with him because she’d believed in her marriage vows.

Of course, she hadn’t known Robert had taken his vows less than seriously in return.

“Nothing to say?”

These allegations had gone on long enough. She had to make him see sense. Yesterday she’d been shocked by his accusations and hadn’t really believed he intended to make her his lover.

But now…today…with him coming here…with his jet ready for Tahiti…she couldn’t let this sham go on.

Yet, dare she tell him? Would it make him even angrier with her when he knew he couldn’t have her? Why he couldn’t have her? Would he get spiteful, the way Robert used to when he didn’t get his own way?

She drew herself up without actually getting off the stool. “Mr. Donovan—”

“Flynn.”

“Flynn,” she said, conceding just this once. “I’m sorry, but there is no way I can share your bed.”

“You can’t, eh? And why would that be?” Thankfully he moved back to lean against the sink, but the sheer insolence in his stance made her heart dip. It was obvious he thought she was just being difficult for the sake of it.

Still, she had to try. She slipped off the stool, automatically arching her spine, her silky top a river of orange as it flowed into place over her white slacks. Her back was aching a little lower down but she hoped that was to be expected.

Then she heard him suck in a breath. “My God! Are you pregnant?”

Danielle straightened, shocked that he’d guessed the truth even though she wasn’t showing. And suddenly she was aware that her actions had spoken louder than words. Perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing. Hopefully for him to see that she was going to be a mother would be more effective than all the words in the world.

He raised his eyes to her face and there was a terrible pain in them that tugged at her heartstrings. She wasn’t sure why, but her hands went to her stomach, protectively. “Um…that’s what I wanted to tell you.”

He stood there for a long moment. Staring…And then he pushed himself upright and away from the sink, his body rigid, his mouth curling with contempt. “Now I see what this is all about,” he rasped. “No wonder you wouldn’t fall into bed with me. You wanted more, just like your husband said you did with him.”

She blinked. “More?”

“A marriage license to be exact.”

Shock ran through her. “You’re crazy,” she managed to say, if a little unsteadily. She wouldn’t be thinking about marriage again. Not for a long time.

“You’ve gone through one husband’s money—” the words hit her like bullets “—and now you’re trying to tie yourself to another. What better way to get sympathy than to play the grieving but pregnant widow without a penny to her name? Poor, beautiful Danielle,” he sniped at her in a harsh voice. “Most men would give up their freedom to possess you, and being pregnant makes you even more attractive to some. There’s something dignified about having a wife with child.” His angry gaze swept over her. “Is it even your husband’s baby?”