From Mistresses To Wives?: Mistress to a Bachelor / His Mistress by Marriage / Accidental Mistress. Susan Napier
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you’d call a hands-on man. He hates sitting around in offices. Orbis is one of Prescott Incorporated’s subsidiary interests. Caters for the upper end of the travel market. Even more successfully since Zac took it on board.’
Jessica hesitated. ‘He’s offered me a job.’
‘He has?’ Leonie sounded taken aback. ‘Doing what exactly?’
‘I’m not sure yet. I’m having dinner with him tonight to discuss it.’
The response was a moment or two coming. ‘I hate to prick any bubbles, but it all sounds a bit pie in the sky.’
‘I know.’ Jessica kept her tone light. ‘No reason why I shouldn’t take advantage of an evening out though, is there?’
‘Don’t go losing your head, that’s all. Zac’s seduction technique is second to none.’
‘I’ve no intention of losing my head,’ Jessica assured her. ‘Especially,’ she added with purpose, ‘over a man you’ve been having an affair with yourself for two years.’
‘No woman lays a claim on Zac Prescott,’ came the dry reply. ‘He’s a totally free spirit. Just take care. You’ve been through enough over Paul.’
Jessica replaced the receiver, allowing herself no backsliding in her determination to oust Paul from both heart and mind. Zac’s offer of a job might be spurious, but then again it might not. There was only one way she was going to find out.
He arrived at eight on the dot. Wearing off-white trousers and dark tan shirt, he set her pulses hammering the moment he walked through the door. She had a sudden premonition that she was getting into something she would come to regret.
They drove down into Palma for drinks at one of the seafront bars near the cathedral, moving on afterwards to a restaurant overlooking a tree-shaded plaza.
The clientele were clearly of the monied variety, with a fair scattering of English among them judging from snatches of conversation drifting Jessica’s way. Good quality though the natural linen suit she was wearing might be, in her estimation it stood out like a sore thumb among the designer outfits sported by others in the place.
If Zac held the same view, he certainly didn’t show it. He’d made no secret of his attraction earlier in the day, and was making no attempt to do so now. As the evening progressed, with no mention of the job he was supposed to be assessing her for, she began to share Leonie’s opinion that it might simply have been a means to an end.
There was a part of her, Jessica had to admit, that yearned to just go with the flow and enjoy what her every sense told her would be an experience to remember. Most people her age regarded sexual freedom as a way of life. Why fight the trend?
Because she wasn’t most people, came the answer. If Zac really did have designs in that direction, he was going to be very disappointed.
Even more so if she played him along a little, she thought vengefully. He deserved a kick in the teeth.
‘I rang Leonie this afternoon,’ she said over dessert. ‘She tells me you’re a company VIP.’
Zac gave her a quizzical look. ‘Does it make a difference?’
Her smile was slow. ‘Who was it called power an aphrodisiac?’
‘Kissinger, I believe.’ The grey eyes had acquired a definite glint. ‘You reckon he was right?’
‘It depends, I suppose, on the way it’s handled,’ she said. ‘Some men are born to it.’
‘While others have it thrust upon them. Or is that greatness?’ The glint had crystallised into amusement. ‘Are you aiming to seduce me?’
‘Am I hell!’ she exclaimed, abandoning the act. ‘You got me here under false pretences!’
Amusement gave way to some other, less discernible expression. ‘If you mean the job, you’re partially right,’ he admitted. ‘What I want from you is—’
‘Whatever it is, I’ve no interest,’ Jessica cut in. ‘Leonie’s welcome to you!’
‘Leonie isn’t here,’ he returned. ‘Neither would she be right for the part if she were.’
Jessica’s brows drew together. ‘The part?’
‘That’s right.’ The pause was brief, the grey eyes steady. ‘I need a fiancée.’
Chapter Two
JESSICA gave a derisive laugh. ‘If that’s meant to be a joke of some kind, it’s a pretty poor effort!’
‘I’m not joking.’ Zac spoke quite calmly. ‘I’ll pay you a thousand to pretend to be my fiancée.’
He really was serious, she realised, studying him. Her first inclination was to tell him where he could go with his preposterous proposal, but curiosity held a stronger hand.
‘Just what kind of game are you playing?’ she demanded.
‘No game,’ he assured her. ‘I let my grandfather believe I’d found the girl of my dreams at last. Now he wants to meet her.’
‘Why?’ she asked in some confusion. ‘I mean, why tell him something that obviously isn’t true?’
‘Because it stopped him pressuring me to get married and start a family for a while.’
‘A state you’d naturally abhor.’ Jessica made no attempt to eradicate the sarcasm from her voice. ‘Hardly likely to be a very long-lasting deception, was it?’
Broad shoulders lifted. ‘So I didn’t think too far ahead at the time.’
‘Then why not just tell him the truth and have done with it?’
‘Because he only has a short time to live.’ Zac’s tone was flat. ‘And before you ask, I only found out this morning. I can’t spring it on him now. Hence the desperate straits.’
‘I doubt if you’d find any shortage of takers if you rang around.’
‘Not in the time. You’re my only hope.’
Jessica regarded him in silence for several seconds, grappling with the implications. To do what he was asking her to do would be shameful, but if the alternative meant robbing a dying man of his dearest wish…
‘It’s emotional blackmail!’ she accused.
‘I’m aware of it.’ He studied her set features. ‘If a thousand isn’t enough…’
Green eyes flared. ‘If I do it at all, it certainly won’t be for money!’ She looked at him with distaste. ‘I hope you’re proud of yourself!’
‘Not over this,’ he admitted. ‘I just wanted breathing space. Time to find a woman I could contemplate living with full time.’
‘The main problem might be finding one who could contemplate living with you full time!’ Jessica retorted, bringing a tilt to his lips.
‘Quite possibly.’
But unlikely, she was bound to admit. No man with Zac Prescott’s assets would have difficulty finding a wife.’
‘I’d have thought Leonie might fulfil your every requirement in that direction,’ she said.
‘Leonie?’ He laughed, shaking his head. ‘She’d no more want to marry me than I would her. We’re too much alike.’
‘Opposites attract, similarities endure,’ she murmured.
‘Sometimes, not always.’
‘So what would you consider ideal wife material? Someone who’d hang on your every word and worship the ground you walked on?’
The scorn made little impression. ‘Sounds pretty close.’