Australia: In Bed with the Playboy: Hidden Mistress, Public Wife / The Secret Mistress / Claiming His Mistress. Emma Darcy
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hand. ‘It’s irrelevant. It’s done.’
‘But I should pay half of what you paid,’ she argued, unable to shake a sense of guilty responsibility.
‘No!’ He shook his head emphatically. ‘I made the decision. I pay the price.’
‘We didn’t have to go,’ she protested, still uncomfortable with how it had been arranged.
‘I want to.’ He scooped her into his embrace, one hand lifting to stroke away her frown as his eyes bored into hers. ‘You want to. Let it be, Ivy.’
Looking at him, feeling him, wanting him, the temptation to let the issue slide pounded through Ivy’s mind. Let it be. Only a last little niggle made her mutter, ‘I wouldn’t have minded waiting.’
‘This is our time, Ivy,’ he murmured seductively, his lips grazing over hers as he added, ‘Let’s make the most of it.’
Our time…
Her heart sank a little at those words, carrying as they did the implication that he expected their time to be limited. By the end of the cruise their relationship would have lasted four months—long enough for Jordan?
But didn’t she have the same expectation?
Her body craved what he could give her.
Make the most of it…yes.
She couldn’t fault Jordan over anything else that weekend. He showed a keen interest in the operation of the rose farm—how it all worked, the standard orders from florists, hotels, big business houses, the more random number of private clients like himself, though he was never to be again, the greenhouses, the packaging room, the refrigerated store of fudges which were supplied by a local woman who’d made an at-home business out of cooking them, the computer system for sales. She enjoyed explaining it all to him.
Graham and Heather came to lunch on Saturday, and Jordan impressed both of them with his appreciation of their contribution to the success of the farm. He didn’t present himself as a playboy at all, talking of his own experience with employees, saying how much he valued those he trusted to get the job done. Graham was quickly at ease with him and Heather barely stopped short of drooling—Jordan was so gorgeous!
When the cruise was mentioned, both of them were enthusiastic about a break from the farm for Ivy and assured her they would look after everything.
Ivy let herself relax and enjoy every minute with Jordan. He made it easy, being the perfect lover in every sense.
Again he telephoned her every night during the week, keeping their connection strong. He arrived by helicopter on Saturday morning and flew her to Port Macquarie, a beach resort on the north coast of New South Wales where he was building a new retirement village and nursing home. He shared his vision for it with her, impressing her once again with his caring for the elderly. They ate in the best restaurants the town had to offer and slept in a luxurious apartment that overlooked Flynn’s Beach.
He never seemed bored by the weekends he spent on the farm with her, and on his alternate weekends he invariably took Ivy somewhere special—to the Blue Mountains and the amazing Jenolan Caves, to Port Douglas and the Great Barrier Reef, to the Red Centre and Uluru, to the Hunter Valley vineyards. Cost, of course, was no object to Jordan and Ivy decided not to quibble about it. He was taking her on a fantastic ride—the ride of a lifetime—and even if it only lasted six months, which was his uppermost limit for an affair, she was certainly living brilliantly for a while.
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