Mistress On Demand. Maggie Cox
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for Sophie was a vocation—but she wished not for the first time that it paid better and allowed her to maintain a slightly better standard of living.
‘I want to buy her a wedding present…something special. I thought perhaps you could advise me.’
Taken aback, Sophie really didn’t know what to say.
‘Well?’ Dominic prompted into the heavy silence that ensued.
‘Aren’t you supposed to buy a present in time for the actual event?’
‘I was away in Singapore on a business trip the week leading up to her wedding, so I did not get a chance to arrange a suitable gift for her.’
But he’d paid for her wedding breakfast just the same, Sophie reluctantly recalled. Diana had said he was generous. She immediately discarded the thought with irritation.
‘I’m sure you don’t need me to advise you what to buy Diana.’ She shrugged, wondering why he should suggest such a surprising thing when she had already professed herself insulted by his gift of the coat. She would have thought he’d be glad not to get himself further entangled with Diana’s ‘unsuitable’ friend.
‘You are her close friend. You know her tastes, her preferences. That information could help me a lot in choosing a gift she would really like.’ His voice was almost hypnotically persuasive, and Sophie couldn’t believe she was actually hesitating over her natural instinct to refuse.
She’d told herself that Friday night had probably meant nothing very much to a man like Dominic, other than sexual gratification with an available, attractive woman. She’d told herself she could handle it, despite feeling somehow ‘used’ when she received that beautiful coat as a gift. Now her feelings were all mixed up, and even more confused.
‘Isn’t there anyone else you could ask?’ Even as she uttered the question Sophie knew she was clutching at straws. Dammit! She was nervous about going to Dominic’s house. Who wouldn’t be? It wasn’t every day that an ordinary girl like her got invited to a billionaire’s home! Especially one she’d had a hot one-night stand with! She’d be nervous even if they hadn’t slept together.
‘Is it too much to ask that you might do this for your friend?’ Deftly and without remorse, Dominic slid home his advantage.
‘No. No, of course not. I’ll come, then. What time?’
‘I will send Louis to collect you at about eight o’clock. I will see you then, Sophie.’
CHAPTER THREE
DETERMINEDLY clutching the large box containing the coat she was returning, Sophie glanced nervously through the stained glass panels on the swish and elegant Regency front door, and willed the butterflies in her stomach to cease their incessant fluttering just for a moment.
She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Dominic Van Straten again one little bit. Right now she felt as if she’d voluntarily agreed to step up to the guillotine and have her head separated from her body. That was how much she hated the idea of even being here—no matter how beautiful or imposing the house in front of her, or how exclusive the address, or the fact that she’d just been transported there in a chauffeur-driven car.
Sophie could find no pleasure in any of it. She just wanted to return the damn coat and get out of there as fast as her legs could carry her. But when the door opened graciously before her eyes, and an elderly man dressed in a dark suit with neatly combed grey hair stood before her with a smile that was inordinately polite, she forced herself to speak and go forward.
‘Hello. I’m Sophie Dalton. I have—I have an appointment with Mr Van Straten.’
‘Of course. Please come in, Miss Dalton. Mr Van Straten is waiting for you in the drawing room. Shall I take your coat?’
Quickly unbuttoning it, while the man briefly held her package for her, Sophie wished she could have refused. But it seemed churlish and ignorant to be deliberately difficult with a man she’d never even met before, so she handed it to him and gratefully took back the package. Trying not to goggle at the magnificent entrance hall, with its elegant air of grace and opulence and its fine, grey-veined white marble floor, Sophie obediently allowed him to lead her to Dominic. After announcing her arrival at the entrance to the room, the manservant discreetly withdrew, and closed the doors behind her.
It didn’t take her long to locate the man she’d come to see. He was standing by the white marble fireplace, a drink in his hand, his lips slightly curving in a smile that appeared without question to be self-satisfied and slightly smug. What was he thinking? Was he gloating that he’d been able to persuade her to do as he’d asked?
Sophie almost retreated back the way she’d come. Although the room was gracious and elegant in the extreme, the most intimidating, magnetic element in it was Dominic himself. He was the pivot around which all that exceptionally good taste revolved. Even at the not inconsiderable distance between them she couldn’t fail to see that it was his very presence that marked their surroundings more than anything else.
As his emerald eyes examined her with cool detachment and, yes…perhaps arrogance, Sophie told herself she must have lost her mind to have come here. Wasn’t it enough that she’d shamed herself by sleeping with him the first day they had met? Was she really so eager to entertain even more embarrassment?
Feeling her lip quiver slightly with nerves, Sophie clamped down her teeth to quell it. ‘I brought the coat…like I—like I said I would,’ she announced, desperately trying to rescue her rapidly dwindling confidence.
‘So I see,’ he said.
An awkward silence descended. Sophie had just about decided to make her excuses and leave when Dominic put his glass down on the mantelpiece, moved away from the fireplace, and gestured towards the long white couch behind her. ‘Why don’t you sit down? We can discuss the coat later.’
‘There’s nothing to discuss. I don’t want it, so I’m returning it.’
Defiant, and determined not to let him get the better of her in any way, Sophie placed the box down on the glass table in front of her, and did not shy away from the definite irritation in his gaze that he directed back.
‘Nevertheless…I still think you should sit down. What can I get you to drink?’
She didn’t want a drink, and she didn’t want to sit down. All Sophie really wanted to do was leave. But, quelling her almost overwhelming desire to escape, she forced herself to sit down on the couch, and folded her hands neatly in front of her on her lap. Glancing around the beautiful room, with its exquisite antique furniture and imposing art on the walls, she was suddenly seized with uncharacteristic self-consciousness.
She hadn’t dressed up in any way, shape or form for this little interview with Dominic. She’d kept on what she’d worn to school that morning: a red V-necked wool sweater, and a black calf-length skirt with matching low-heeled boots. And she’d deliberately not fussed with her usual minimal make-up either. She hadn’t even reapplied her lipstick. There was no way that she was going to make Dominic imagine for one moment that she’d make any sort of effort with her appearance for his benefit. Sophie wasn’t interested in what the man thought about what she looked like, or even if he thought about it at all. The sooner they discussed what they had to discuss the sooner she could be out of there, and heading home again.
‘I’m fine,’ she replied coolly. ‘I had a cup of coffee before your chauffeur arrived to pick me up.’
‘I didn’t mean coffee. Will you have a Scotch or a brandy? It’s cold outside. It will help warm you up.’
Even as he said the words, Dominic doubted very much whether any amount of alcohol could effect a thaw in Little Miss Frigid sitting over there on his couch. He hadn’t expected this coldness after what had transpired between them on Friday night, and the fact that she clearly took no pleasure in either his company or his beautiful house seriously bothered him. Whatever people said about him, when he invited them into his home he