The Millionaire's Revenge Page 4

  ‘You know what the position is. It’s a mess. Phillip must have explained all of that to your accountant or whoever the man was who made the phone call.’

  ‘How much of a mess?’

  ‘A lot of a mess,’ Laura confessed grudgingly and half­heartedly continued eating. Her stomach felt inclined to rebel at the food being shovelled into it, but she would not let him get to her again. ‘The racehorses have all gone. Sold. Four years ago. Most of the other horses were re­moved over time. I still have a few, but I doubt I shall be able to hang onto them for much longer. And the house ...well ...it’s still standing, but just.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Are you really interested?’ Her eyes flashed at him. She couldn’t help it. ‘Or do you want all the grisly details for your scrapbook on how much the Jackson family fell? So that you can chuckle over it in the years to come?’

  ‘Now who is guilty of dragging the past up?’ Gabriel taunted silkily. I am not asking questions any interested buyer would not ask.’

  ‘And are you really interested in buying, Gabriel?’

  Good question. He had toyed with the idea. Andy had been appalled at the thought of investing money in a de­crepit stables that would probably never show any return for the money ploughed in, arguing that such enterprises failed or succeeded by word of mouth and that, because Gabriel was not a part of the racing scene, it was doomed to failure. And Gabriel had been able to see his logic. He had also been unable to resist the opportunity to avenge himself for a rejection which he had carried inside him like a sickness for too long. But had he really been serious about buying the place?

  Now, he realised that he was deadly serious. A couple of hours in this woman’s company was not enough to sate his appetite. He looked at her, at the strong, vulnerable lines of her face and the supple strength of her body, and suddenly wondered what other men had touched her. He would touch that body again, he would feel it move under his hands, but this time unaccompanied by the emotions of a boy. He would touch her as the man he now was. He would take her and she would come to him on his terms and when he was finished with her, then he would be the one to reject her. If it took the purchase of the riding sta­bles, then so be it. It was hardly as though he could not easily afford it.

  ‘I am interested in buying,’ he agreed smoothly. ‘So explain what happened.’

  ‘Mum died. That’s what happened.’ Laura closed her knife and fork and wiped her mouth. ‘Her heart. We both knew that it was ...that she was weak, but I think Dad just never accepted the reality of it. He always thought that something would come along, some magical potion and everything would be all right. But nothing came along, and when she died he just couldn’t cope. He lost interest in the place. He said it all reminded him of Mum and he began going out of the house a lot. I thought it was to see horses, visit old friend. Since he died, I discovered it was to bet.’ She sighted and pressed her fingers against her eyes, then propped her face in her hands and stared past Gabriel with a resigned, thoughtful expression. ‘He gambled away everything. Amazing to think how quickly a thriving concern can go down the pan, but, of course, the world of horses doesn’t operate along the same lines as a normal company. The racehorses were sold.’

  ‘He gambled away all of the profits from those thoroughbreds?’

  ‘Not all.’ Laura’s eyes slid towards him and she shivered. Despite the stamp of ruthlessness on his face, he still possessed bucket-loads of that sexual magnetism that had held her in his power. He was her enemy now and making no bones about it and she would rather have died than have let him see that he could still have an effect on her. ‘He made two investments that were disastrous and plunged him even further into debt. I guess, that was when the spiral of gambling to win really began.’

  ‘And you were not aware that all of this was going on?’

  ‘I never imagined there was any reason to be suspi­cious!’ Laura returned defiantly. ‘I wasn’t at home doing the books. How was I supposed to know that the money was disappearing?’

  ‘Because you have eyes and a brain?’

  That stung because it was the refrain that played over and over in her own head. But did he have to say it? But then, why shouldn’t he? His past and present had now merged to give him the freedom to say whatever damn thing he wanted to and she could do nothing but accept it because she needed him. Her hand curled into a ball on her lap.

  ‘Obviously not enough of either,’ Laura said icily.

  ‘What happened to your plans for becoming a vet?’ Gabriel asked, abruptly changing the subject.

  ‘I had to ...to cut short university because of Mum and then ...well...’ She shrugged and lowered her eyes, not wanting to think about what might have been. ‘Dad needed me.’

  ‘You have been at home all these years? Helping out?’ He sounded amazed and Laura flushed, remembering all her grand plans.

  ‘Of course I haven’t just been at home!’ she snapped. ‘I ...I have a job in town.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Is this part of the normal line of questioning by any prospective buyer?’

  ‘Call it curiosity.’

  ‘I’m not here to satisfy your curiosity, Gabriel. I’m here to talk about the riding stables. There’s still a bit of land and of course the house, but that’s about it. It’s all heavily mortgaged. Now, do you still want to proceed or not?’

  ‘You’re here to satisfy whatever I want you to satisfy and make no mistake about that. I know everything there is to know about the financial state of your riding stables and, without my money, life will be very bleak indeed for you. So if I ask you a question, you answer it. Now what job do you do?’

  ‘I work in an estate agency, if you must know. I’m a secretary there. Since Dad died I’ve had to cut short my working hours so that I could spend more time at the sta­bles, but I still work three days a week.’

  And what a sight for sore eyes she must make in the place, Gabriel mused suddenly. Stalking around like one of those thoroughbreds she had spent her life looking after. Driving those poor, hapless men crazy. ‘A secretary,’ he said sardonically. ‘What a disappoint­ing end to all your ambitions.’ His voice was laced with irony and Laura bit down the response to fly at his throat.

  ‘I happen to like it there,’ she said tautly.

  ‘Satisfying, is it? As satisfying as it would have been to work with animals? Shifting bits of paper around a desk and fetching cups of coffee?’

  ‘Some things are not destined. That’s just the way life goes and I’ve accepted it.’ Laura met his gaze stubbornly. She would never have guessed that her stormy, passionate lover could have transformed into this cold stranger in front of her. I may not have risen to dizzy heights and made lots of money like you, but money isn’t everything,’ she threw at him, and in response he gave a short bark of dismissive laughter before sobering up.

  ‘At least not now,’ he amended coldly. ‘Not now that you have no choice but to fall back on that little homily, but somehow it doesn’t quite sit right on your shoulders, Laura. Perhaps my memory is a little too long.’ He leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table and closing the space between them until he was disconcertingly close to her. I remember another woman, to whom money was very important and maybe I have more in common with that woman now, because money is important, isn’t it, querida? Money drove us apart and now it brings us to­gether once again. The mysteries of life. But this time, I hold you in the palm of my hand.’ He opened one hand before squeezing it tightly shut whilst Laura looked on in mesmerised fascination. ‘Tell me, how does it feel for the shoe to be on the other foot?’

  CHAPTER THREE

  Phillip should have been handling this. Phillip should have been the one showing Gabriel around the stables and the house, gabbling optimistically about how much of a turnaround could be achieved with the right injection of cash. Wasn’t that supposed to be a part of his job?

  But Phillip was not going to be around. Away on busi�
�ness, he had apologised profusely. He had no idea why she was so intimidated at the thought of showing her prospec­tive buyer the premises. It wasn’t as if he were a complete stranger. And, after all, she did work in an estate agency, even if showing people around properties did not actually constitute one of her duties. She would be absolutely fine, he had murmured soothingly.

  But Laura didn’t feel fine. She had had precisely three days after that nerve-shredding meeting with Gabriel to realise that the last thing she felt about selling to him was fine.

  The fact was she had not been able to get him out of her mind. In under half an hour, he would be driving up that long avenue towards the house, and she still didn’t feel prepared. Either physically or mentally.

  She had carefully collated all the paperwork given to her by Phillip in connection with the accounts for the rid­ing stables and laid them out neatly on the kitchen table. She had tidied the house in an attempt to make it appear less shabby, although the sharp spring sunlight filtering through the long windows threw the faded furnishings into unflattering focus. She had taken her time dressing, forsaking the security of working clothes for the comfort of trousers and a loose checked shirt. She had still found her­self with one and a half hours to spare.

  Now, she waited with a cup of coffee, her stomach churning with tension and then twisting into knots when she finally spotted a sleek black Jaguar cruising slowly towards the house.

  Laura took a deep breath and reluctantly responded to the ring of the doorbell, pulling open the door once her face had been arranged into an expression of suitably de­tached politeness. She had spent so many hours reminding herself that, as far as Gabriel Greppi was concerned, she was an object of dislike that she had automatically assumed that her body would obediently follow the dictates of her head and not react when she saw him. She was wrong. Her eyes flickered over him as he stood in front of her, casually dressed in a pair of khaki trousers and a short-sleeved shirt that revealed the dark, muscular definition of his arms. A faint perspiration broke out over her body and she stood back, allowing him to brush past her and then stand in the hall so that he could slowly inspect it.

  ‘Did you ...find the house okay?’ Laura asked nervously, closing the front door.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I have?’ The black eyes finished their leisurely tour of the hall and he looked at her with a cool expression.

  ‘No reason. I collected most of the paperwork from Phillip. It’s all in the kitchen, if you want to go and have a read.’

  ‘In due course,’ Gabriel drawled lazily. ‘Right now, I’d appreciate something to drink and then you can show me around.’

  ‘Of course.’ She walked ahead of him and he followed her into the kitchen, appreciating the view of her long legs and well-toned body. He had had three days to savour his plans for seduction. Three days during which even the de­mands of his beloved work had paled into the background. The more he had contemplated it, the more beautifully just it had all seemed. One rejection deserved another and he had been given the opportunity to achieve it. The wheel had turned full circle and he would reap the benefits of sweet vengeance. Despite the massive control he applied in his working life, he was innately a man of passion, and his response to the situation did not disconcert him in the slightest. Laura was unfinished business and he would fin­ish it at last, once and for all.

  ‘What would you like to drink?’ she was asking him, watching as he skirted around the large central island in the middle of the kitchen and towards the French doors that led out onto the open fields at the back.

  ‘I assume there is some kind of structural report on the house amidst that stack of papers on the table,’ he said, turning around to look at her.

  ‘What kind of structural report?’ Laura stammered, frowning.

  ‘The kind that will tell me whether this house is in need of serious renovation, or whether its state of decay is con­fined to the superficial. You can appreciate that such in­formation will necessarily reflect any price I might be will­ing to pay.’

  ‘The house isn’t falling down, Gabriel.’

  ‘How do you know? These old properties need a lot of attention and, from the looks of it, it has had less than zero.’

  ‘You’re determined to rub it in my face, aren’t you?’ she asked tightly, moving over to the table so that she could begin sifting through the inches of paperwork to see whether she could locate anything about the material state of the house. She raised her eyes to his resentfully. ‘You just can’t resist reminding me that you could make or break me, can you?’

  ‘Is that what I’m doing? I thought I was merely asking for information about the property.’ He looked at the bruised, hurt eyes and felt a sharp twinge of something he did not want to feel. ‘Leave it,’ he said abruptly, ‘it can wait, for now. I would very much like something to drink, lea would be nice.’

  ‘You never used to like tea.’ The words were out of her mouth before she could think and colour slowly crawled into her face as she spun around and began fiddling with the kettle. God. Please. Don’t let the past sneak up and grab me by the throat. ‘How do you take it?’ ‘Very strong with one sugar.’ Gabriel sat down at the table. That little stack of paperwork would just have to wait. He wouldn’t he able to concentrate on any of it any­way. Not with her moving around in front of his roving eyes like that, reaching up to fetch mugs from the cupboard so that he could see a little pale slither of skin, as firm and as toned as if she were still the young girl of nineteen he had once completely possessed.

  When she sat at the kitchen table, she made sure to take the chair furthest away from his, and gazed down at her fingers cradling the mug. The silence was excruciating. She could feel his eyes on her and she wondered what he was seeing. Certainly not the uninhibited young girl she had once been. Could he sense her fear? And if he did, would he know where it stemmed from? Would he guess that he terrified her because she was realising how much she still responded to him? Physically? As though the intervening years had never existed?

  ‘When did your father ...leave to return to Argentina?’ she asked in a stilted voice, simply to break the silence.

  ‘A year after I completed my university course.’ Gabriel stood up and Laura jumpily followed his movements with her eyes as he prowled through the kitchen, like a restless tiger moving as a way of expending its immense energy. ‘He did not manage to find a satisfactory post to fill the one he had lost and he returned to be with the rest of his family. I went on to work at a trading house and discov­ered that I possessed a talent for working the stock market. A quite considerable talent. I was rewarded with the fi­nancial backup to start my own business.’ He sipped some of his tea and directed a cutting smile at her. ‘While your fortunes were falling, mine were on the rise. Is life not full of little ironies? But, I forgot, you would rather I did not mention my successes, which you can only view as a mea­sure of your own failures. Or rather, those of your family.’

  ‘That’s not true. I’m very pleased for you.’

  ‘Pleased because I am now in the position to rescue you from your financial mess?’

  ‘Stop it, Gabriel!’ She stood up and moved towards him, bristling with anger. ‘You talk about discussing things like two civilised adults but that’s the last thing you’re inter­ested in doing, isn’t it? You haven’t even glanced at all those papers on the table!’

  ‘I told you. I’ll look at them in due course. Not that it makes an appreciable difference. I know the state of your finances, Laura. You owe everyone money. I am stunned that the place continued to exist for as long as it has. But then, your father must have benefited from the fact that he was on personal terms with his bank manager, not to men­tion all his suppliers.’ He sipped his tea and looked at her flushed face over the rim of his mug. ‘What would you do if I decided not to buy?’ he asked.

  ‘I expect Phillip would find another buyer.’

  ‘Really? Has he had much interest so far?’

  ‘I don’t
know.’ Laura stared down at him with her arms protectively folded across her chest. He could see that she was braced for another attack and he resisted the urge to oblige. He would have her, but to have her he would have to gain her trust. She was right. He was not behaving like a civilised adult. Having prided himself over the years on his ability to remain aloof, to detach himself to a position from which he could dispassionately control his surroundings, he was now acting like an adolescent suffering from a severe bout of pique. He drained the remainder of his tea and stood up. ‘Shall we look around the rest of the house now?’ It was impossible not to be aware of him as they walked up the winding staircase that led to the lust floor. Instead of following her, which would have been bad enough, he walked alongside her and the flanks of his muscular thighs were only inches away from brushing against hers.

  Had he simply been a good-looking man, Laura was sure that she would have been immune to his predatorial charm. But she had once known and touched every inch of that powerful body, and the memory of it waged a silent and savage war inside her against the reality of the situation. He had come back into her life a hostile and aggres­sive stranger and she could not afford to allow nostalgia for the past destroy her sense of perspective.

  Although the land around the house was extensive, Oakridge House itself was relatively small. Five bedrooms, all with individual fireplaces, two bathrooms and a nest of smaller rooms on the ground floor, the largest of which was the formal drawing room, which had not now been used for years.

  Laura started with the guest rooms and she maintained a nervous silence as he slowly inspected each one in turn