But it had been so long since she’d felt attraction for a man. So long since she’d made love to a man she desired. Flynn had made her come alive again, had recognized her needs and taken her beyond the edge of satisfaction. She’d never had such an experience before. He made her feel like a woman again. And he’d given back what had slowly diminished in her marriage to Robert. Her sense of feminine self.
For that she owed Flynn Donovan a lot.
Of course, that didn’t make him any less arrogant, nor the right man for her, she reminded herself. She needed to keep that in mind and fend off her attraction for him.
Just then, there was a light knock on the door. “Are you coming out, Danielle? I want to give you your birthday present.”
Danielle let out a slow breath and counted to ten. Monica always did this, stalking her until she felt smothered. Robert had been the same. And that was a timely reminder that the battle for independence had been too hard fought and won.
“I’ll be there in a minute, Monica. Why don’t you put the coffee on?”
A moment’s silence, then she said, “Fine.”
Danielle waited a moment more, then pushed herself away from the door with trembling hands. She was never going to let herself be dictated to again.
Never.
And that applied to Flynn Donovan.
No matter how wonderful he made her feel.
Five
A fter the function, Flynn dropped his date off at her apartment, drove home to his mansion in Cullen Bay, then spent the early hours of the morning sitting on the balcony of his master bedroom. An electrical storm had raged during the evening while he’d been at the dinner, and now his lushly landscaped garden was beautifully moonlit.
He’d realized one thing tonight. He’d rather spend an evening being antagonized by Danielle than being sweet talked by a bevy of beautiful women.
God, what was it about Danielle Ford he couldn’t shake? As much as a part of him didn’t want to see this woman who was far from an angel, he knew his body still hungered after her. It was a hunger that he wasn’t about to appease, so why was he putting himself through this? He couldn’t have her…shouldn’t have her…but he’d tormented himself anyway.
Yet every time he looked into her blue eyes it weakened his determination to stay away from her. And tonight…no, yesterday…he couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d melted for him back there in her apartment.
And that baffled him. For a woman who would have used her body many times to get what she wanted, according to her former husband, she hadn’t been as experienced as he’d expected. Her slight hesitation and occasional lack of control…while thoroughly tantalizing…had told him otherwise.
Dammit, she just didn’t add up. She seemed to be a mixture of truth and lies. Of innocence and guilt. Independent yet reliant. Look at the way she’d left her door open for him…or not. The lock had been faulty, he admitted.
And she’d mentioned her job in the stress of the moment. So it was a real job, after all, not a volunteer one as he’d suspected. It was time he actually got that report done on her. A personal one this time, not just a financial one. He wanted to know everything about her. Everything and more from the day she’d been born.
And dammit, yesterday had been her birthday and he hadn’t known until too late. It turned out that the car he’d given her had been an inadvertently well-timed gift, but spending the evening with a cold, unfeeling mother-in-law who obviously didn’t have an unselfish bone in her body wasn’t exactly a great way to celebrate.
Danielle deserved better.
She also deserved an Oscar, he forced himself to remember as he hopped in his Mercedes just after breakfast, intending to drive to her apartment before she went to work. He was determined to make sure she had dinner with him tonight.
Him and no other man.
He was just leaving his driveway, about to turn out onto the main road when a figure stepped in front of the car. He swore as he slammed on the brakes, stopping just short of hitting the person.
Then he saw who it was.
Monica Ford.
His jaw clenched as he got out of his car and walked toward her. She’d obviously been waiting for him to leave his house, though how she’d known where he lived made him uneasy. He didn’t like this woman.
And that hated look in her eyes said she was still remembering meeting him yesterday at Danielle’s apartment.
“Monica,” he said, inclining his head in greeting.
“It’s Mrs. Ford to you, Mr. Donovan,” she spat.
He paused for effect. “I see.”
“Do you?”
She was obviously spoiling for a fight.
“Why are you here?”
She glared at him. “I want you to stay away from Danielle. Or you’ll be sorry.”
He felt his anger rise in response. “I don’t take kindly to threats.”
“Danielle and the baby belong to Robert. I won’t let you have either of them.”
Sudden apprehension rolled over in his chest. “Is this some kind of joke?”
She pulled herself up straighter. “My son is no joke. Danielle loves him and he loves her.”
He mentally took a step back. “Your son is dead,” he pointed out, trying to judge if this woman was as mad as she made out to be.
“How dare you say that!”
He scowled. Whether she was mad or not, she was definitely mentally unbalanced. “Listen, I think you need help.”
She wagged a finger at him and hissed, “You just stay out of the picture. That’s all the help we want.”
We?
Giving him a hateful look, she said, “Whatever you think you’re going to get from Danielle won’t happen. I won’t let it.” Then she spun on her heels and hurried toward a car parked down the road.
Flynn waited until she’d driven off, a horrible feeling in his gut. She was definitely sick in the head, exactly how sick was the question. But he knew one thing. He preferred her coldness yesterday over the hate today.
He still felt uneasy on the way over to Danielle’s place, but more for her sake than his own. He could handle the likes of Monica, but the woman was unstable and he wasn’t sure Danielle knew that. He vowed to keep an eye on things though he suspected Monica wouldn’t hurt Danielle and the baby. If anything, it was him Monica would want to hurt.
When Danielle opened her front door, he pushed all that to the back of his mind.