His After-Hours Mistress: The Rich Man's Reluctant Mistress. Trish Wylie
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The hell he was! How could he be when he didn’t know her or Simon? It was another excuse to get close. She should never have told him. She’d actually given him some ammunition. ‘I don’t need your pity,’ she declared, struggling to free herself. ‘I’m over it now.’
Zane released her but he didn’t move away. ‘No, you’re not,’ he declared. ‘You’ve erected a barrier.’
He was right; Simon was her defence. She had only to think about the way he’d treated her to put her off any man who tried to get close. And that included the gorgeous, extremely sexy Zane Alexander.
It didn’t count that his brief kiss of a few seconds ago had aroused feelings that she had thought long since dead. And, if she were honest with herself, they were sensations that went incredibly deeper than any she had ever felt with Simon. Simon had been her one and only lover so she’d had no one to compare him with. Until now!
At this point Lucinda angrily dashed her thoughts away. They were unwanted. It didn’t matter whether Zane was the most fantastic lover of all time; she had no intention of finding out.
‘I don’t want to discuss this any more,’ she declared tightly. ‘I’m going to rest in my room for a while.’ She might even stay there until morning. She’d had enough of Zane’s company for one day.
Zane’s smile told her that he knew exactly what she was thinking. ‘Have you ever sat outside on a tropical night and watched the stars?’ he asked quietly. ‘Have you ever listened to the chirruping of cicadas? Have you smelled the heady perfume of the flowers? Don’t miss out on it all because of a misguided sense of trust.’
Misguided? Lucinda didn’t think so. Zane was forgetting that she knew exactly the sort of uncaring person he was. He might try to romance her, to seduce her even, but once they returned to England and her job was finished she would be just as quickly forgotten. Maybe other girls were into affairs, especially with rich, handsome men, but not this one.
To her relief Zane didn’t insist on an answer. She fled to her room, showered and then flung herself down on the bed. To take her mind off Zane and his kiss, she began planning how she would decorate the room. She had brought several fabric swatches with her as well as paint samples and pages out of furniture catalogues, but it soon became clear that she would be far better going into Castries and seeing what they had to offer there. It needed something with a local flavour. The capital was sure to have a good selection of shops. She would suggest it to Zane tomorrow and hopefully he would put a car and driver at her disposal.
But all thoughts of decorating left her when a tap came on her door. Instantly she thought it was Zane and was prepared to tell him to go away, when the door was pushed tentatively open and the maid popped her head inside. ‘Excuse me, Miss Oliver. Mr Alexander has asked for you to join him,’ she announced with a wide smile.
It was easy to see that she thought the sun shone out of Zane’s eyes.
‘Tell him I’m tired and that I’m staying here,’ said Lucinda.
‘He said not to take no for an answer,’ the pretty dark-skinned girl answered, looking worried. ‘He is ready to eat.’
Lucinda groaned inwardly. ‘Very well,’ she agreed, not wishing to get the maid into trouble. ‘Tell him I’ll be along shortly.’
Her shortly amounted to half an hour and when she opened her bedroom door she was taken aback to see a thunderous Zane about to make an entrance. ‘I was just coming to fetch you,’ he growled. ‘What the hell have you been doing?’
‘Reluctantly getting myself ready,’ she answered, chin high. ‘I rather fancied an early night. You’re forgetting the time difference.’ Her tone was sharp, her eyes growing as angry as his. ‘I would have been in bed were I at home. You’re being unreasonable, Zane.’ But then wasn’t that Zane Alexander all over?
‘And you’re not?’ he grunted, his eyes roving over the coral silk blouse she had donned with a pair of matching trousers. It was loose enough to be cool and also not to show the way her nipples stood to attention under his scrutiny.
It was a long, hard look he gave her before he swung on his heel and she had no choice but to follow him through to the dining room. Someone had done their best to make it look cheerful with tastefully arranged urns of flowers but Lucinda’s professional eye was soon making changes. Like all the other rooms, it was spacious and light and it had the most wonderful views, but it was badly in need of a makeover. The furniture was old and jaded and the curtains at the windows had certainly seen better days.
Their table was placed so that they both sat looking out through the open window with its glorious view. By this time the sun had gone down and the sky was filled with stunning colours—gold and scarlet, the inkiest of blacks and the richest purples, all reflected with even more intensity in the calm waters of the Caribbean Sea. Her mood mellowed as she sat looking at it.
And when dishes of food were placed in front of them she discovered a hunger that she hadn’t suspected. Fish broth, Creole baked chicken, fresh fruit. She tasted them all. She enjoyed them all. They hardly spoke; such was the enchantment of the evening. Or was it because Zane was still angry with her that he didn’t say much? Lucinda couldn’t be sure.
Afterwards, as they sat outside on the terrace sipping wine, listening to the sounds of the night and gazing at the stars that were surely more brilliant than they ever were in England, she felt amazingly content. This was an experience that would stay with her for a long time.
Until suddenly she became aware that Zane was watching her and not the darkening sky, and although the night air was cool her skin grew moist with sudden heat. This was truly a place made for lovers—and he was looking at her as though that was his intention.
‘You’re very beautiful, Lucinda,’ he said roughly. ‘Far more beautiful than I remember.’
‘That’s because when I was babysitting Tim you were never there,’ she reminded him, unable to keep a note of censure from her voice. ‘You hardly had time to notice me.’
‘I guess I did have other things on my mind,’ he agreed. ‘But not so now. This is one of those rare occasions when I can relax. And I have you to keep me company. What more could a man ask for? A beautiful lady in a most beautiful part of the world.’
‘I’m here to work,’ she reminded him. She didn’t like the way he was talking—as though their time here was for his pleasure alone.
‘You know what they say about all work and no play,’ he reminded her, his eyes a dark blue in the light that spilled out from the dining room. It gilded his features with bronze. His face was beautifully sculpted with an almost Roman nose and chiselled cheek bones and a mouth that was fluent and kissable and…She stopped her thoughts right there.
What he looked like was of no interest to her whatsoever, and she’d do well to remember it. Except that he’d set light to a fire inside her and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be kissed by him again out here in the moonlight.
That earlier brief kiss, no matter how much she had resented it, had opened up her defences. She was susceptible to him now. And, judging by the look in his eyes, he knew it! They were narrowed and intent on hers, reading her dilemma, knowing exactly how she felt. It was time she left. But when she pushed back her chair and stood up a hand shot out and caught her wrist.
‘Don’t leave yet,’ said Zane. ‘The evening is still young and I have no wish to spend it alone.’ And all the time he was speaking he was pulling her inexorably towards him.
The air between them crackled with tension, warning her that if she didn’t escape now it would be too late. But did she want to escape? Wasn’t this devastatingly attractive man setting alight fires inside her that had never been lit before? Wasn’t he arousing passions that no one else but he could quench?
Yes, but…
But what? asked an inner voice.
But