Read His Poor Little Rich Girl Online
Authors: Melanie Milburne
He gave a grunt of derision. ‘I didn’t love you, Rachel,’ he said. ‘I was in lust with you, just like every other man who came within a bull’s roar of you. Didn’t your father tell you that about men? There are woman you love and there are women you lust after. You are the latter. You will always be the latter.’
Rachel knew her eyes, not to mention her expression, were probably showing much more than she would have liked. Had anyone ever truly loved her? Was it really true that Alessandro had only lusted after her and never seen her for the person she really was? It felt as if a wound inside her had been roughly opened up, exposed and seeping and bleeding all over again.
Her father’s words about not loving her mother had haunted her for years. How could men be so cold and calculated about relationships?
‘Then why did you want to marry me?’ she asked after a short tense silence.
He gave her a look that more or less said it all. ‘You were my ticket to success,’ he said. ‘Marriage to you would have instantly elevated me to the higher echelons of society that had previously been denied me because of my less than desirable background.’
She fought hard to cover her hurt, her devastation, her disappointment that yet again some ruthless, unprincipled man had decided she was to be used as a means to an end. ‘But you made it without me,’ she said, thinking out loud. ‘You didn’t need me to achieve what you’ve achieved.’
He gave her a grim smile of satisfaction. ‘I did indeed make it without you, Rachel. I did indeed.’
She moistened her lips again, the cotton wool dryness making her feel slightly ill. ‘So why am I here now?’
‘Why do you think you are here now?’
She took an unsteady breath, not sure how to respond. She felt as if her world had tipped upside down and she had no way of righting it. ‘This is all about revenge, isn’t it?’ she said.
He gave her a veiled smile. ‘What possible way could I have revenge on you?’ he asked. ‘You are beautiful, you are talented, and you are on the pathway to the pinnacle of brilliant success.’
‘As long as I do what you say,’ she put in resentfully.
‘That is entirely up to you,’ he said, and turned back to the equipment. ‘I am not forcing you to do anything. I am
prepared to back you but only as long as you play the role of my current mistress.’
‘What do you want me to do?’ she said.
‘Just be yourself,’ he said, and, clutching the rails, began forcing his legs into action.
She frowned as he moved along the short distance, each leg looking as if it were dragging a road train behind it. The beads of sweat broke out above his top lip and across his brow, and the muscles of his arms bulged with the effort of keeping himself upright. His legs moved inch by inch but it looked as if it took an enormous effort. He gritted his teeth and soldiered on, his eyes narrowed in determination.
‘Are you sure you should be trying so hard so soon?’ Rachel said. ‘Shouldn’t you be taking smaller steps or something?’
He looked up at her at that point, his expression caustic. ‘I don’t need your advice, Rachel. I have a team of physical therapists who help me with this. I have a programme I work through each day. Please leave me to get on with this. I don’t want you here.’
She took a step backwards and somehow lost her footing, tumbling over the bench press behind her, landing in a crumpled heap, arms and legs akimbo.
Alessandro swore again, in English this time, and limped over to help her, using the cable skier nearby for support. ‘Are you all right?’ he said, hauling her to her feet with one of his strongly muscled arms.
It was a precarious rescue. Rachel was not quite upright and nor was Alessandro. His arms were strong but his legs were not. Her arms and legs were rendered useless as soon as he touched her. She turned to jelly, none of her ligaments and muscles seemed to be responding to the messages firing
from her brain. She brought him back down with her, the hard weight of his body pinning her to the floor, from thigh to thigh, from pelvis to pelvis.
There was an infinitesimal moment when his eyes locked on hers, their bodies still in an erotic embrace that should have felt awkward and compromising but somehow didn’t …
R
ACHEL
looked at Alessandro’s mouth, the mouth that five years ago had pressed down on hers and evoked a lightning strike of reaction through her being. Her heart raced with a galloping beat, its hammer blows so hard she wondered how he couldn’t feel them against his chest where it was pressed against hers. His lips were slightly dry, she could see the indentations of each and every contour, the way the top lip was marginally thinner but the lower one full and sensual—so different from hers, which were evenly full. Hers were soft from years of lip balm and gloss. She had no rough contours, but she knew her smoothness would snare his roughness like hand-spun silk against rough sandpaper. She remembered how it had felt way back then, the difference between their lips startling her, rocking her off course. She felt it again as soon as he touched down, his lips covering hers in a kiss that sent swift sharp shooting arrows of sensation through her. His crushing mouth ensnared hers, capturing her, tethering her in a kiss that was hot and erotic and charged with red-hot passion. She felt it in the way his body was lying over hers. His chest was pressing her down, his pectoral muscles branding her breasts, his taut abdomen imprinting her belly with his unmistakable arousal. She felt the proud swell of his erection,
the thundering pulse of his blood, the surge of his hormones awakening every feminine pore of her body.
She felt a pulse of longing start up deep inside her, a throbbing need that escalated with every movement of his mouth on hers until it totally consumed her. When his tongue demanded entry through the tender shield of her lips her pulse skyrocketed. She felt the hot spikes of longing jabbing at her, making her shift beneath him, her body aching for the intimate closeness of his full possession. A fiery pit of need roared inside her core, making her spine arch to feel him right where she needed him most. It was shameful the way she was almost begging, but she couldn’t seem to help it. He had awakened a torrent of need inside her that, now unleashed, was racing away with a will of its own. She clawed at him with her greedy hands, holding him to her, her fingers digging into the tautness of his buttocks, pressing him to her aching point of need. His kiss intensified, hot and hard and urgent, even more demanding, his tongue duelling with hers in a passionate showdown that left her breathless and desperate for more. She felt the nip of his teeth as they snagged the fullness of her bottom lip, a shockingly primitive caress that made her spine loosen and her toes curl. She used her teeth the same way on him, spurred on by an instinct as old as time itself, taking his lip, sucking on it, pulling on it, and biting it in little kitten-like bites that evoked a deep throaty groan from him.
He raised his mouth from hers and looked down at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read, but at least she could hear his breathing was just about as unsteady as hers. ‘Same old Rachel,’ he said.
Rachel felt an earthquake of resentment rattle her. ‘What do you mean by that exactly?’ she asked.
His eyes flicked to her kiss-swollen mouth before coming back to her fiery gaze. ‘You are never happy until you have a man under your control, are you?’ he said. ‘It amuses you to see how readily they succumb to the temptation of your body.’
She gritted her teeth. ‘Get off me.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘That’s not what you were communicating a couple of minutes ago—the very opposite, in fact.’
‘Well, it’s what I’m communicating now,’ she said and wriggled out from under him to get to her feet.
He propped himself up on one elbow to look at her trying to restore some order to her hair and rumpled clothing. She turned her back on him, furious at how he had made her feel like a cheap strumpet when he had been the one to kiss her first … or had he? She didn’t like to think about it too closely. Their mouths had been so close, just a breath apart, and then someone had closed the distance. Had it been him or her or both of them at exactly the same time? His kiss should not have affected her so much. His body should not have left hers aching and crawling with need. She crossed her arms over her body, hoping the action would quell the storm that was still raging inside her. Her skin felt tingling and too sensitive, her breasts tight and full, her inner core moist and hungry for the urgent glide of his flesh in hers. How had he reduced her to this? She turned into a wanton every time he came near her. In spite of the years that had passed nothing had changed.
‘This is your bargaining tool, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘You want more money and this is the only way you know how to get it.’
Rachel refused to look at him. ‘You think you have this all
sewn up but I could still walk away. There are other people I could approach to help me.’ There was a beat of silence.
‘I have been doing a little research into your company,’ he said.
Rachel turned around to face him. ‘Don’t play games with me, Alessandro.’
‘The thing is, Rachel, I am very much afraid you will not be able to find anyone else to help you,’ he said.
She threw him a cutting glare. ‘Because you made sure of it by telling everyone I was a risk.’
‘I am not responsible for that, Rachel,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to take my word for it. I am in the process of trying to find out who is, however.’
Rachel didn’t believe him for a second. Of course he had blackened her name and reputation. It served his ends to do so.
‘The reason I want you to be my counterfeit mistress is because I think you are perfect for the role,’ he said. ‘You are unlikely to get emotionally involved during the short time of our arrangement. I don’t want any complications.’
‘Well, that is certainly one thing you’ve got right,’ Rachel said tightly. ‘I can assure you there is absolutely no danger of me developing any feelings for you.’
His lips curved upwards in a sardonic smile. ‘Still a little too rough for your tastes, little rich girl?’
She glared at him venomously. ‘You are a cold, calculating bastard.’
‘And you are a stuck-up tease who thinks your body can buy you anything you want,’ he shot back with a flash of anger in his eyes.
Rachel stood her ground. She felt strangely invigorated by
their verbal battle of wills. He had always been so amenable in the past. The clash of his will against hers was a new experience, an exhilarating experience. ‘You don’t have any idea of who I am any more, Alessandro,’ she said.
‘Some leopards never change their spots,’ he said. ‘I have met your type time and time again since I left Australia. Women like you are always out for what you can get. People are nothing but instruments to get your own way.’
‘But I am not doing this just for myself!’ she protested. ‘I’m doing it for my friend.’
He gave her a cynical look. ‘You are trying to save your company, not your friend. You want to prove to your father that you can make it on your own. You want his approval. You crave it. Your company falling over terrifies you because success is your only means to show him you are not just a beautiful face.’
Rachel swallowed back her retort. She felt stung by his assessment of her motives, not because he was wrong but more because there was an element of truth about what he had observed. All her life she had tried to please her father, to be the sort of daughter he would be proud of, but she had never quite achieved it. She had worked hard at school but she had never gained the results he had in his day. He had constantly reminded her of it. He had been a scholarship student; she had not even been appointed a prefect, let alone Head Prefect or School Captain as he had been. But she resented Alessandro for thinking her support of Caitlyn wasn’t genuine. It was. Caitlyn had helped her through her nasty break up with Craig, providing a safe haven when things had got ugly. She had never forgotten the support and friendship her friend had provided.
‘What you have to realise, Rachel,’ Alessandro continued,
‘is you will never please your father. It wouldn’t matter if your label became the most successful in the world, it would not make him proud of you. He is a narcissist. He is only interested in what makes him look good. Any success or achievement of yours or anyone else makes him feel resentful, that in some way you or they are deliberately stealing the limelight from him.’
‘I don’t need my father’s approval,’ Rachel said. ‘I just want to make my own way in the world. I have talent, I know I have. I just need to get things off the ground in Europe.’
‘With my help you can take on the world,’ he said. ‘Is it a deal?’
Rachel looked at him narrowly. ‘You said a counterfeit mistress.’
‘That is correct.’
‘So I really don’t have to sleep with you?’
‘Not unless you wish to,’ he said with a glinting look.
Rachel felt a blush rise in her cheeks. ‘What exactly do you get out of this deal?’
‘I will make sure I am adequately compensated,’ he said. ‘I will take a share of the profits on a percentage that is acceptable to us both.’
‘It sounds too good to be true, which usually means it is,’ she said.
‘You’re not going to get another offer, Rachel,’ he said. ‘You’d be wise to take this and make the best of it.’
‘You must know I can’t possibly say no,’ she said.
‘You would be a fool indeed to say no,’ he said. ‘I will still need to analyse your company structure. If I want to instigate changes then you will have to agree to them.’
‘I guess I don’t have much choice.’
‘I have already set up a meeting for you with one of the
top fabric suppliers in the industry,’ he said. ‘He will be here later tomorrow.’
‘Shouldn’t I be going to him?’ Rachel asked, frowning.
‘I am conducting all business from here at the moment,’ he said. ‘Now, please leave me while I finish my exercises.’
Rachel moved towards the door, but then she stopped and turned around to look at him again. ‘Doesn’t anyone other than your staff know you have been ill?’ she asked.
His sapphire-blue eyes hardened. ‘No, and that is the way I want to keep it.’