One Night with His Virgin Mistress. Sara Craven

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One Night with His Virgin Mistress - Sara  Craven


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not?’ she challenged. ‘It’s a perfectly respectable occupation.’

      ‘Respectable—sure.’ He studied her curiously. ‘But as a career? I’d have thought you’d want better than that.’

      ‘Well,’ she said tautly, ‘as we’re total strangers, that’s hardly for you to judge.’ She paused, then added reluctantly, ‘Besides, I also had a day job working as a secretary for a temps agency. The bar was…extra.’

      ‘I notice you keep using the past tense,’ Mark Benedict commented. ‘Am I to take it that you’re no longer gainfully employed?’

      ‘I’m no longer wage-earning,’ she admitted. ‘But I am working.’

      ‘At what? Your questionable duties as flat-sitter won’t take up too many hours in the day.’

      She bit her lip, unwilling to expose her precious plan to his undoubted ridicule. She said primly, ‘I’m engaged on…on a private project.’

      ‘As you’ve gate-crashed my home, Miss Paget, I don’t think the usual privacy rules apply. How are you planning to earn a living?’

      She glared at him. ‘If you must know, I’m writing a novel.’

      ‘Dear God,’ he said blankly and paused. ‘Presumably it’s for children.’

      ‘Why should you presume any such thing?’ Tallie asked defiantly.

      ‘Because you’re hardly more than a child yourself.’

      ‘I’m nineteen,’ she informed him coldly.

      ‘I rest my case,’ he returned cynically. ‘So what kind of a book is it?’

      She lifted her chin. ‘It’s a love story.’

      There was a silence and Tallie saw a gleam of hateful amusement dawn in the green eyes. ‘I’m impressed, Miss Paget. It’s a subject you’ve researched in depth, of course?’

      ‘As much as I need,’ she said shortly, furious to discover that she was blushing again.

      ‘In other words—not very far at all.’ He was grinning openly now. ‘Unless I miss my guess—which I’m sure I don’t, judging by your terrified nymph act when I walked in on you just now.’

      Tallie’s blush deepened hectically.

      Oh, God, I might as well have ‘Virgin—untouched by human hand’ tattooed across my forehead, she thought, loathing him.

      He was speaking again. ‘And you’ve actually staked your economic future on this unlikely enterprise?’

      She was almost tempted to tell him about Alice Morgan. Make him see that it wasn’t all pie in the sky but a calculated and considered risk, except that it was none of his damned business. And, anyway, why should she explain a thing to someone who’d already mortified her beyond belief and was now going to ruin everything else for her?

      ‘Yes,’ she said, icily. ‘Yes, I have.’

      ‘Well,’ he said, ‘that pretty well explains why you snatched at the chance of living here when Kit dangled it in front of you.’ He paused. ‘Are you paying him rent?’

      She shook her head. ‘Just—my share of the utility bills.’

      ‘Which can be pretty steep for a place this size. So how can you possibly afford them?’

      ‘By working day and night for months and saving every possible penny,’ she said huskily. ‘In order to give myself some dedicated time—a window of opportunity.’

      ‘You seem to have mastered the jargon anyway,’ he commented dryly as he refilled his mug. ‘Where were you living before this?’

      ‘I was sharing a flat,’ she said, ‘with my…my cousin and a friend of hers.’

      ‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘Then you have a place to go back to.’

      Tallie stared into her mug. She said with difficulty, ‘No—no— I don’t. I—really can’t do that.’

      She was expecting him to demand another explanation, but instead he said with a kind of damning finality, ‘Then you’ll have to find somewhere else, and quickly. Because you certainly can’t remain here.’

      She’d known it would almost certainly come to that, but hearing it said aloud was still a blow. Not that she intended to meekly acquiesce, of course. This had been the perfect haven until he’d turned up, and she wasn’t giving up without a fight.

      She said, ‘But there is nowhere else. Besides, I was invited by your brother. I was relying on him. Does that make no difference to you?’

      ‘None at all,’ he said brusquely. ‘And if you’d known him better— or used a little common sense—you’d have saved yourself a lot of trouble. Because Kit had no right to make such an arrangement with you, or anyone else. And, in future, he certainly won’t be staying here either,’ he added grimly. ‘So Veronica can go hang herself.’

      He’d mentioned the name before. ‘Is that Kit’s mother?’

      ‘Unfortunately, yes.’ His tone was clipped.

      ‘Then perhaps I could speak to her about all this. Ask her to contact Kit and get it sorted out. After all, she must know that the flat doesn’t belong to him, and she might help.’

      His mouth curled. ‘I don’t recommend it. For one thing, Kit is the apple of her eye, and therefore can do no wrong. She would simply blame you for misunderstanding one of the dear boy’s misguided acts of kindness.’ His voice was cynical. ‘Besides, she’s always regarded anything with the name Benedict attached to it as communal property and encouraged Kit to do the same.’

      He paused. ‘And she would almost certainly regard you as some female predator in pursuit of him, and decide that he’d gone to Australia simply to get away from you.’

      Tallie stiffened. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

      He shrugged. ‘Undoubtedly, but that won’t stop her, and I can promise you that a penniless would-be writer isn’t at all what she has in mind for her only chick. So I’d steer well clear, if I were you.’

      ‘If you were me,’ she said, ‘you wouldn’t be in this mess.’

      His smile was reluctant. ‘No, I wouldn’t.’

      ‘So what happens now?’ She tried for nonchalance, and missed. ‘Do I get thrown—bag and baggage—into the street?’

      He was silent for a moment, his mouth compressed into grimness. ‘How long have you been living in London?’

      ‘A year,’ she returned defensively, guessing what was coming.

      ‘Long enough to make friends who might put you up on a temporary basis?’

      She didn’t look at him as she shook her head. She must seem absolutely pathetic, she thought. A genuine Natalie No-mates. Yet several of the girls she’d worked with had invited her for a drink after work, which might have been a first step to friendship. But she’d always been obliged to refuse because she’d been working and she needed to keep every penny of her earnings for the future.

      And, of course, there was Lorna, friend from her school days, who’d help if she could in spite of the inconvenience, especially if she discovered Tallie was in dire straits. Only it simply wasn’t fair to impose that kind of pressure on her, she told herself. No, she had to find her own solution.

      ‘And before London?’ He sighed abruptly. ‘No, don’t tell me. You lived at home with your parents, probably in some nice village full of nice people.’

      ‘And if I did?’ she demanded, stung by the weary note in his voice. He looked tired too, she realised


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