Nothing Changes Love - Page 17

‘Not any more.’ And striding across the room he picked up the telephone receiver and dialled a number. ‘Lorraine, get over to the Piccolo Paradiso first thing in the morning. I want you to take charge until a permanent manager can be found. OK...Goodnight.’ Jake replaced the receiver and turned, a smile of triumph curving his hard mouth. ‘Your replacement arrives in the morning.’

Lexi stood as though turned to stone at the mention of the other woman’s name, her violet eyes blank as her thoughts turned inwards; Jake had it all arranged, must have been planning it for weeks. The fact she had started divorce proceedings had little or nothing to do with it.

‘The divorce didn’t matter?’ she said to herself.

‘No, not really. I had every intention of reclaiming you. The fax from my lawyer simply made me speed up the proceedings.’

‘Lorraine.’ She almost choked on the name. ‘Why didn’t you divorce me and marry her years ago?’ she demanded. After all, it was what he had intended—she had heard them discussing it. She raised angry eyes to Jake’s. ‘She’s still with you. Let her give you the heir you say you want,’ she prompted sarcastically.

‘Lorraine is much more valuable to my business than she could ever be as a wife and mother,’ he offered casually.

‘And that’s it?’ Lexi stared into his harsh face, unable to believe what she was hearing. ‘You expect me to crawl back into your bed and provide you with a child.’ She could not keep the shock and horror out of her voice. ‘And at the same time, your mistress—’

‘Why so surprised?’ Jake cut in cynically. ‘You’ve lived in Italy for years, you were planning on marrying an Italian. It’s quite common in this part of the world for the wife and mother to be revered, while the mistress provides the fun.’

He meant it, he actually meant what he said. ‘There is no way on this earth I will put up with an unfaithful husband. You should know that better than most, Jake,’ she said scathingly. Hadn’t she left him because of his infidelity?

‘Should I?’ he queried with a puzzled frown.

Lexi answered with a snort of disgust. Who was he kidding, pretending innocence? Certainly not her...

‘Well, I suppose I can live with that. No Lorraine in my bed, and no Dante anywhere near you.’ He smiled, a bleak twist of his hard mouth. ‘Agreed.’ And he held out his hand. ‘Shake on it.’

Hardly knowing what she was doing, she put her hand in his. Lorraine, his mistress, or ex if Jake was to be believed, was near by, ready to take her job, the same way as she had taken Lexi’s husband years ago. It was so evil her mind could not absorb it. He didn’t even like her, and yet...

‘You called me mercenary before, Jake; surely you don’t want a gold-digger as the mother of your child?’ she scorned in a last-ditch attempt to save herself.

‘Let me wor

ry about that, Lexi, you look tired. Get to bed, I have one or two more calls to make.’ Jake’s voice sounded almost gentle, but it could not mask the ruthless satisfaction she saw in his eyes.

‘Yes, I’ll go to bed,’ Lexi agreed coldly. ‘But first I want you to know I think you are utterly despicable, a man without conscience or morals, completely evil. I hate you and always will.’ And the very softness of her tone was more convincing than any angry outburst could ever be.

CHAPTER FIVE

HEAD high, and stiff-backed Lexi marched into the bedroom. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing he had frightened her into running away again. Anyway, hadn’t he said himself that to touch her tonight would disgust him, she reassured herself as she undressed for bed. Hours later she plumped the pillow for the umpteenth time and, emotionally and mentally exhausted from trying to think of a way out of the disastrous situation she was in, she finally fell asleep, refusing to listen to the devilish imp inside her that traitorously wished Jake had joined her.

* * *

Lexi half opened her eyes, a distant ringing echoing in her head. Oh, God, the alarm—was it seven already? she thought sleepily and, automatically stretching out her hand, she silenced the offending clock on the bedside table. She groaned and suddenly froze, aware of a hard weight around her waist and the pressure of strong fingers curved around the underside of her breast. The full horror of the previous evening swamped her sleep-hazed mind. Jake was back and, worse, in her bed...

Slowly, she turned her head; Jake was lying flat on his stomach, one long arm flung across her waist, the other dangling over the side of the bed. She couldn’t see his face, only the back of his head, the dark hair rumpled, and his heavy breathing loud on the still air. Tense, she held her breath, the warmth of his fingers through the fabric of her nightshirt arousing an achingly familiar response. She bit her lip, fighting down the swift stab of desire, and, making sure he was sound asleep, with the utmost caution she carefully slid out from under his arm, her feet finding the floor. She stopped as he grunted and turned over on to his back. It was OK, his eyes were still closed, and she was standing on his pyjamas!

She stood up, pulling her plain cotton nightshirt down over her thighs, and glanced down at the sleeping man. Completely relaxed, he looked years younger, his hair fell casually over his broad forehead, his firm mouth gentle in sleep. She had to restrain the urge to reach out and smooth his hair from his brow. His muscular chest with its dark covering of body hair rose and fell in an even rhythm, the single cotton cover was wrapped around his thighs, barely covering the core of his masculinity. His long arms and legs were spreadeagled across the bed; he looked devastatingly male, open and somehow vulnerable, waiting to be touched.

God! What was she thinking of? She shook her head in self-disgust and stealthily moved across the room, her nose wrinkled in irritation; there was a strong smell of alcohol in the air. She cast one last glance at the sleeping man before slipping into the bathroom. Surely Jake hadn’t turned into a drinker! That was all she needed, a drunken husband.

Ten minutes later, bathed and dressed in her usual uniform of dark skirt and crisp white blouse, she cast one last glance at the still sleeping figure, her lips quirked in the semblance of a smile; he was going to have a hell of a hangover when he finally surfaced. Serve the swine right, she told herself, as she strode into the living-room. An empty whisky bottle and glass on an occasional table beside the sofa caught her gaze. Jake had certainly made a night of it, and she couldn’t help wondering why.

She had stormed off to bed last night, knowing Jake had won but refusing to give up entirely. She had lain for hours unable to sleep, trying to find an escape, until finally she had virtually passed out, still wondering and fearing what the outcome of the evening’s events would be. One option she had never considered was Jake getting plastered! It was hardly flattering to her; he was a powerful, dynamic male, and the years had not affected his masculine virility one bit. There was something about him, the way he moved, an earthy maleness that attracted the female of the species like bees around a honey-pot. She doubted if any woman had ever left his bed unsatisfied, until now...

Dear God! She was doing it again, fantasising about the man. Annoyed with herself, she caught her rambling thoughts before they sank into eroticism. She was trapped and supposed to be finding a way out of the mess, not dreaming about the man.

Closing the door of the suite quietly behind her she slung her shoulder bag over her arm and headed for the lift. Moments later, she walked into the hotel reception and stopped, her eyes widening at the sight that met her eyes. Franco was standing, his mouth hanging open like a goldfish, while a tall, elegant woman was telling him in a cold, clipped voice exactly what to do. It was Lorraine...

‘Excuse me,’ Lexi said firmly, striding across to the desk. ‘Have we some problem here?’

Lorraine spun around to face her. The older woman was as stunning as ever, perhaps a few more lines around her perfectly made-up eyes, and a hint of more hardness in the glossy mouth, but the smart cream suit she wore screamed designer original, as did the matching hide bag and shoes.

Tags: Jacqueline Baird Billionaire Romance
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