Snow, Satin and Seduction Bundle: The Millionaire's Christmas Wife\The Christmas Love-Child\Royal Baby, Forbidden Marriage\Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience by Helen Brooks

Author:Helen Brooks
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THREE

‘WHAT…?’ The single word came out involuntarily, a gasp of shock and fear as the sight of Leo standing there so calm and assured brought the memories flooding back. Phoebe threw her shoulders back and lifted her chin. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked in a calmer voice.

Leo arched an eyebrow as he strolled into the room, closing the door softly behind him. ‘Is this not the Amarnesian Consulate?’ he asked, and Phoebe was conscious of how effortlessly he made her feel like an interloper. An ignorant one.

‘Then I suppose the question to ask,’ she replied coldly, ‘is why I am here.’

‘Indeed, that is an interesting question,’ Leo murmured, his voice as soft and dangerous as it had been six years ago. Phoebe felt it wrap around her with its seductive chill and tried not to shiver.

He was the same, she thought numbly, the same as he’d always been. The same sleepy, bedroom eyes, the same aura of confident sensuality even dressed as he was in a dark suit, undoubtedly coming as he did from Anders’s funeral, although there was no sign of grief in his saturnine features.

‘How did you get here?’ Phoebe blurted. ‘You were in Paris, at the funeral—’

‘I was this morning,’ Leo agreed blandly. ‘Then I flew here.’

She tried for a laugh. ‘Am I that important?’

‘No,’ Leo replied, and turned from her to move to a small table equipped with a few crystal decanters and glasses. ‘May I offer you a drink? Sherry, brandy?’

‘I don’t want a drink,’ Phoebe replied through gritted teeth. ‘I want to know why I’m here and then go home.’

‘Home,’ Leo repeated musingly. He poured a snifter of brandy, the liquid glinting gold in the lamplight. ‘And where is that, precisely?’

‘My apartment—’

‘A one-bedroom in a rather run-down tenement—’

Phoebe stiffened, thinking of the rather astronomical rent she paid for an apartment most people would think more than adequate. ‘Obviously your opinion of what constitutes run-down differs from mine.’ She met his gaze directly, refusing to flinch. ‘I’m not sure what the point of this is,’ she continued. ‘I assume I was summoned here for a purpose, to sign some paper—’

‘A paper?’ Leo asked. He sounded politely curious. ‘What kind of paper?’ He smiled slightly, and that faint little gesture chilled her all the more. Leo’s smiles were worse than his scowls or sneers; there was something cold and feral about them, and it made her think—remember—that he was capable of anything. She’d read it in the tabloids’ smear stories; she’d felt it the last time she’d stood across from him and listened to him try to bribe her, and she’d seen it in the cold, cold look he’d given Anders.

‘Some kind of paper,’ she repeated with a defensive shrug. ‘Signing away any rights to Anders’s money—’

‘Anders’s money?’ Leo sounded almost amused now. ‘Had he any money?’

‘He certainly seemed to spend it.’ Phoebe heard the ring of bitterness in her voice and flinched at what it revealed.

‘Ah. Yes. He spent money, but it wasn’t his.

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