Their Seductress [The Hot Millionaires #1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (3 page)

“We were the mainstay of her life,” Nick reminded her.

“Not me,” Paige insisted. “We’d only become close recently.”

“Yeah, but she liked you,” Nick said. “I ran her home and her boat and was the guardian of some of her most intimate secrets, Isaac was her heir apparent in the company, and you, sweetheart, were her pet protégée.”

Paige stood up and stretched her arms above her head. Her tank top rode up and gave Isaac a flash of toned, tanned abdomen. He suppressed a groan, hating that she could entice him, tempt him, when he actively disliked and mistrusted her. Didn’t he?

“I’m beat,” she said. “The jet lag’s catching up with me. It’s three o’clock in the morning as far as my body’s concerned.”

“Get some rest, darling,” Nick said, standing as well and kissing her on the lips. “Shout if you need me.”

“Night,” she said, waving a hand in the general direction of them both but not even sparing Isaac a second glance.

He watched her go, furious when his gut churned with jealousy at the thought of her taking Nick up on his very obvious offer to share her bed. He made a few calls, had another drink, and then turned in himself. Except he couldn’t pass the door to Paige’s room. Without thinking about the consequences, he turned the handle and barged in without knocking. She was just emerging from her bathroom, wearing an oversized T-shirt that only just covered her ass. She glanced up and did a double take. Presumably she was expecting Nick.

“Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”

“Just to say you won’t get away with it.”

“With what? What the hell are you talking about?”

“You might have fooled Nick and Ellie, but I can see through all that pretty packaging to the conniving female beneath it,” he said scathingly. “You wormed your way into Ellie’s affections, but I’ve got your number.”

“Fine.” She moved toward him and stood mere inches away, her face blazing with anger. “You’ve said what you came to say. Now get out of my room.”

“I’m not done yet.”

“Oh yes you are! I might have to stay in the same house as you for one night, but I don’t have to listen to this crap.” She pushed his chest. “Get out of my room!”

“Aren’t you going to invite me to stay?” he asked sarcastically. “Isn’t that what you do with all the men in your life? You reel them into your little net, bleed them dry, and chuck them out when you’re done. Just like you did with Doug.”

“You bastard!”

Isaac’s laugh was cruel, even to his own ears, as he moved toward the door. “I ain’t a pushover, not like my brother was.”

“I hate you! You think you know it all, but you don’t have a fucking clue.”

Paige picked up a perfume bottle from the dresser and hurled it at him. He ducked at the last minute, and it shattered against the wall behind him. Ah, so his words had struck a chord.
Good!

“Hate me, do you?”

Isaac quirked a brow. Never one to resist a challenge, he crossed the room in two strides and pulled her roughly into his arms. She lost her balance and toppled toward him, her body slamming against his as he bent his head and kissed her liked she’d probably never been kissed before. Hard, demanding, possessive, his tongue forced its way between her lips and took greedy possession of her mouth. She fought him for all of ten seconds and then collapsed against him, moaning softly as she rubbed her hips against his erection and twined her fingers round his neck.

The moment she started to kiss him back, he released her, leaving her panting with desire as he headed for the door. He flashed her a knowing smile as he opened it.

“Hate me, do you?” he said.

“Bastard!” Paige yelled at the door as it closed behind Isaac.

She burned with humiliation, furious with herself for falling for his cheap trick. She hated him for his prejudice, for being such a smart arse, for goading her… Hell, she resented him like crazy simply for being there. An explosive amalgamation of anger, grief, and jet lag churned within her, making sleep next to impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, images of Isaac’s blistering resentment burned through her like acid. He so closely resembled Doug that she died a little inside each time she looked at him. The sensible thing would be not to look, but she simply couldn’t help herself. Her eyes were constantly drawn to his face, looking for similarities that would be obvious to a blind man. She wondered if they shared the same character defects, the same strengths, the same wicked sense of humor that had caused her to forgive Doug’s transgressions time and again.

She also wondered what he’d be like in bed.

Well, she knew one thing now. He could kiss like he meant it—even when he didn’t. He’d only kissed her to prove some sort of infantile point. She thumped her pillows, disgusted with herself for being shallow enough to care. She was here to mourn the death of her mentor and friend and do anything she could to bring her killer to justice. Only then would she find some sort of closure, whatever the hell that was. What she emphatically should
not
be doing was wasting energy even thinking about a man who clearly held her in contempt and, worse, seemed to think she was responsible for his brother’s death.

Sleeping in this house was next to impossible. She could sense Ellie’s presence as keenly as though she was in the room with her, giving her orders, giving her the courage to be herself, to forget the inhibitions a strict childhood left deeply ingrained on her psyche, and dare to live out her fantasies. She rubbed her thighs together, dampness seeping between her legs. Just thinking about the games she’d played in this house did that to her. She kicked aside the thin cover and touched her cunt, her fingers sinking deep between the moist folds as she paid homage to her dead friend in the manner she would most approve of.

“Tell me who did this to you, Ellie,” she said aloud as her hips bucked against her fingers. “Tell me who took you away from me, and I’ll kill the bastard with my bare hands.”

She added another finger to the two already inside her as her thumb rubbed back and forth against her clit. Her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps as she increased the pace of her thrusts. God help her, but she needed this! She needed to release the pressure that had been building inside her ever since she’d learned of the murder.

She was close. Here it came. The familiar tingle, the dribble of moisture between her breasts, the sensitivity in her nipples.

Let rip, Paige!

She bit her lip to prevent herself from screaming as an explosive climax ripped through her, panting as she rode the wave that she’d created for herself until it crested and abruptly faded,

Paige felt calmer but still not completely satisfied. She fell into a restless sleep, wondering if Nick had the recorder running, capturing her in the act of masturbation. Suspecting that he very likely had, she squeezed her tits together and bowed in the direction of the cupboard where it was likely housed. She had half expected him to join her. It was a measure of his sensitivity that he’d left her alone, but she doubted whether that situation would continue for long. She hoped it wouldn’t.

Still on European time, Paige rose early, showered, pulled on a pair of denim shorts and a strappy top, and ventured barefoot into the yard, appreciating the stillness of the early morning, feeling the calming influence of Ellie’s vibrant personality all around her. She had expected to be alone but turned at the sound of noise from the swimming pool. Isaac was swimming lengths, doing a strong crawl, head down, not seeing her.

“Why him?” she muttered beneath her breath.

Paige took the opportunity to study his body, which was no hardship. Nick was a hunk, but Isaac had him beat in most departments. A strong, muscular chest tapered to a narrow waist and, if he was even half as well built as Doug, a cock that could make a girl’s heart sing. She watched the muscles in his arms at work as he swam, easily able to imagine them bearing her weight as he held her against a wall, sucked her tits, and fucked her senseless.

Paige shook her head.

“Get a grip, girl,” she muttered. “He doesn’t even like you.”

“Morning.”

Paige had turned away and didn’t realize he’d climbed out of the pool. He stood where he was, observing her through dark, critical eyes, his expression telling her nothing about his thoughts. Not that she needed much help in that respect. If he expected her to show any reaction to that stupid kiss then he was in for a disappointment. She regretted throwing things and shouting at him in such an infantile manner. In future she would avoid him. When that wasn’t possible she’d treat him with icy politeness and never let him get beneath her defenses ever again.

“Morning,” she responded curtly.

He picked up a towel, draped it round his neck, and disappeared into the house without another word. Damn him, how was she supposed to treat him with disdain when
he
walked out on
her
?

Nick appeared soon after that. By then Paige had coffee on the go but refused eggs and whatever else it was the two men sat down to devour. Before Lawson arrived she changed into a formal dress, nervous and jittery, anxious to get the confrontation over with so that pain-in-the-ass Isaac Drake could go back to work, holding Carter Promotions together until a new CEO was appointed.

Lawson arrived on time. Paige pegged him to be in his forties. Slicked-back hair, a slight paunch, a well-cut suit sans
tie, and an appropriately somber demeanor. It gave a little when he looked at Paige. She shook his hand but didn’t like him much, wondering at Ellie’s lack of judgement in employing such a man. Admittedly she was still jet-lagged and had only just met her lawyer, so what did she know about his abilities? Perhaps he’d been one of Ellie’s subs. The idea amused Paige. She could just imagine him cringing beneath Ellie’s whip whilst simultaneously begging her to whip him harder whilst he jerked off.

“I know how shocked you all must be,” he said when they were seated round the table in the formal sitting room. “I still can’t believe it myself.”

“Perhaps you could tell us why we’re all here?” Isaac said brusquely.

“Of course.” The lawyer extracted a sheaf of papers from his document case and laid them on the table in front of him. “Ellie was very specific in her instructions. She knew precisely where she wanted everyone that mattered to her to be in the event of her death. She updated those instructions just a few months ago.”

The three of them shared a loaded glance. Like Paige, her temporary housemates were probably wondering if she’d anticipated being bumped off.

“She asked me to ensure that you three of you spent the night under this roof together before the reading of her will.”

“Her will!” they all said together.

“Absolutely. You’re probably aware that in his own will her husband left her a controlling interest in Carter Consortium for her lifetime only. In the event of her death her shares go to his children. That doesn’t apply to Carter Promotions, of course. That was Ms. Carter’s baby, and the appointment of a new CEO is down to the directors.” Three heads nodded. “Greg also left his children well provided for financially, and I believe they had a congenial relationship with Ellie.”

“They did,” Nick said. “They had no reason to be jealous of her because their father did the right thing by them. Besides, they liked her. Everyone did.”

“Absolutely. The only items of value that Ellie owned in her own right were this house, her boat, a house in Richmond Park, England, and a modest amount of money.” Lawson paused to clear his throat and take a sip of water. “Under the terms of her will, you, Mr. Fuller, inherit the boat and sufficient funds to run it, Mr. Drake gets this house, and Ms. Fairfax the residence in England.”

Paige gasped. “But why? That house in Richmond is worth a lot of money.” She shook her head. “I didn’t know Ellie that well. Why would she do such a thing?” She glanced at Nick, but he shook his head as well, clearly as clueless as she was. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“You took over the management of the English office of Carter Promotions upon the death of…er, Mr. Drake’s brother, am I right?”

Isaac made a choking sound at the back of his throat but said nothing.

“Yes, Ellie and I became close after that, but it was only a few months ago and—”

“I can’t explain Ellie’s reasons for doing what she did. All I can tell you is that she knew her own mind.”

Paige nodded, managing a feeble smile. “That’s certainly true.”

“Ellie’s only stipulation was that the three of you remain living in this house until after her funeral.”

“Impossible,” Isaac said, shooting Paige a nasty look. “I have to run the company.”

“That’s what she told me you’d say but knew you could do that from anywhere that has an Internet connection. Anyway,” he said, not waiting for a response, “Ellie reckoned you spent half your life flitting between the LA office and Tampa, so you’re used to thinking on your feet.”

“When will the funeral be?” Paige asked, not looking forward to being stuck here with Isaac any more than he wanted to be with her.

“The police haven’t released the body yet,” Lawson said, tidying his papers and standing up. “There will be things for you to sign, obviously. I’ll arrange it.”