From Mistresses To Wives?: Mistress to a Bachelor / His Mistress by Marriage / Accidental Mistress. Susan Napier
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the willpower to stop myself from carrying on regardless though. Whoever you took me for is a lucky man. You’re a very responsive lady.’
Jessica felt her colour come up. ‘Nothing new for you, I’m sure!’
‘Depends on the kind of response we’re talking about. You…’ He broke off with a smile as she made a vehement gesture in the direction of the door. ‘I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t want to outstay my welcome.’
Jessica moved aside to allow him free passage across to the door. She was taken totally by surprise when he pulled her to him to press another pulse-racing kiss to her lips.
‘A mouth impossible to resist,’ he declared, releasing her again. ‘Sweet dreams, green eyes!’
He was gone before she could come up with any kind of reply. As the door closed in his wake, her hand crept up involuntarily to touch her lips where the tingle still lingered. She could still smell the faint, emotive scent of his aftershave, still feel the pressure of his body. His departure had left an aching space inside her.
Lust, nothing more, she told herself in self-disgust. His physical attraction was undeniable. She supposed she should be grateful he hadn’t seen fit to take further advantage of the weakness he must have sensed in her. The experience might have been earth-shaking, but the shame would have haunted her for ever more.
With a return to sleep unlikely until her jangling nerves settled a little, she made herself a cup of coffee and took it out onto the balcony. The sea sparkled silver in the moonlight, the only sign of life a cluster of lights on the horizon. A cruise ship on its way to Palma harbour perhaps.
In a month or so the temperatures would be soaring, but right now the night air felt balmy on her skin. She was to stay as long as she wanted, Leonie had said when offering her use of the apartment. She wouldn’t be getting the chance herself this month.
Jessica had seized the opportunity gratefully. A little time on her own was just what she needed in order to get herself back into gear. Looking back, she wondered how she could ever have believed Paul capable of commitment. Men didn’t change their inborn habits.
Past and done with, she told herself firmly, stifling any pangs. When she left here she would be starting afresh. She had enough put by to see her through until she found a job and somewhere of her own to live. With only her personal possessions to bother about, a bedsit would do for a start. What she wouldn’t be doing was taking any more advantage of Leonie’s generosity than she absolutely had to.
Back in bed, she still found sleep hard to come by. The masculine scent lingering on the sheets evoked memories she would prefer to forget. There was very little of her that those long supple fingers hadn’t explored in those searing moments before realisation had come crashing in.
Zac Prescott. Leonie had certainly never mentioned him. She wondered how long the affair had been going on. It seemed such a casual arrangement. Not that Leonie had ever been what might be called conventional in her way of looking at life. Men, she had often said, were there to be enjoyed for what they were, not castigated for what they were incapable of being.
An attitude, Jessica thought wryly, she might do best to formulate for herself.
Thankfully, she was unlikely to be seeing this particular man again. The very thought of facing those taunting grey eyes was enough to make her squirm.
She slept eventually, waking at seven to the sunlight she was beginning to take for granted. Breakfast out on the balcony was a treat she couldn’t have enough of. In daylight the views up and down the rugged western coastline were spectacular, the detail so clear and sharp at this hour, the air itself like fine wine.
Apart from a couple of trips into Palma, she had taken little advantage of the hire car these past few days. With her return flight booked for the day after tomorrow, it was time she stopped mooning around the apartment and saw something of the rest of the island while she still had the chance. It would be some time before she was able to take another holiday for certain.
She left the small, exclusive apartment block at nine to head up the coast. From her study of the map she had found in the writing desk drawer, she planned on driving as far as Valldemosa, then taking the marked scenic route inland and cutting back across country to hit the main highway again. The heat was rising already, making her glad she had hired one of the canvas-covered jeeps instead of a sedate little saloon.
This early in the season there were relatively few tourists on the road. Jessica took her time, stopping at every viewpoint to photograph the stunning coastal and mountain scenery. It was coming up to twelve thirty by the time she reached Valldemosa. A good place to have lunch, she decided, her appetite sharpened by the fresh air.
The guidebook she had brought with her gave the Mirador hotel top billing in every sphere. Expensive, of course, but what the hell, Jessica thought recklessly. She was due a little luxury.
Set high up above the lovely mountain village amidst a grove of orange and lemon trees, its white walls clothed in climbing roses and bougainvillaea, the hotel looked to be everything the book said. The jeep safely parked in a corner of the sloping car park, she made her way via a marble-floored, plant-strewn reception area out to a dining terrace overlooking the magnificent panorama.
Even this early in the season, only three of the dozen or so tables were unoccupied. Jessica chose one close by the low parapet wall in order to have an unrestricted view of the scenery, donning her sunglasses against the midday glare. This, she thought luxuriantly, sipping iced orange juice while she perused the extensive menu, was the life! One she could live quite happily given half a chance.
Without lifting her eyes from the menu, she was aware of being studied by the man who was about to take a seat at a nearby table. His scrutiny made her feel uncomfortable. She looked up with what she hoped was a suitably chilling expression when he came over, feeling the bottom drop right out of her stomach as she registered the face she had thought never to see again.
Zac Prescott returned her stunned gaze with an equanimity she only wished she could emulate. ‘You turn up in the most unexpected places,’ he said.
‘I didn’t know you were staying here!’ Jessica denied, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut as humour sprang in the grey eyes.
‘I daresay you’d have steered well clear if you had. But as you are here—’ he indicated one of the spare chairs ‘—perhaps I might join you?’
Jessica vacillated for a lengthy moment, torn between the dictates of common courtesy and the urge to tell him to get lost. Courtesy won by a short head, and only then because of Leonie. ‘All right,’ she agreed with reluctance.
He pulled out the chair and sat down. His appraisal was too intrusive for comfort. ‘You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name but I still have to learn yours.’
‘Jessica Saunders,’ she acknowledged, unable to come up with any good reason for keeping it a secret.
‘Jess for short?’
‘Not if you value your health!’
Zac laughed. ‘I’ll make a note of it.’ He studied her again, taking in every detail of her face with its wide-spaced green eyes, small straight nose and soft full mouth. ‘I’d say you’re a good three or four years younger than Leonie. That would make you around…twenty-five?’
‘Almost.’ She lifted an eyebrow in faithful imitation of his own interrogative style. ‘And you are?’
He laughed again. ‘Thirty-three. What’s the relationship?’ he added. ‘You and Leonie, I mean.’
‘Why?’ she asked.
‘Call it plain curiosity. Obviously you don’t have to answer.’
What reason was there to keep that a secret either? Jessica asked herself. ‘We’re cousins,’ she said.
‘You’re in the same line of business?’
It was Jessica’s turn to