Mistresses: Passionate Revenge. Trish Morey
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Just pretending. Is that right?’
A shadow passed across his eyes and was just as quickly gone. ‘If that’s the way you want it.’
‘That’s exactly the way I want it. No sex. And in one month I go home.’
‘No questions asked. First class. All expenses paid.’
She swallowed against a throat that felt tight and dry and against a fear that he might soon discover he was making the mistake of his life and she’d be booted out with the week. ‘I don’t know if I’m the right person for the job.’
He slipped the pack from her shoulder and dropped it on the ground beside them before she’d noticed, relieving her of the weight on her back, but not even touching the fear in her gut. ‘You’ll be perfect. Any other questions?’
She shook her head. How could she expect him to make sense of anything going on in her mind when she couldn’t unscramble it herself? ‘No. Um, at least…No, I don’t think so.’
He smiled then, as he curved one hand around her neck, his fingers warm and gentle on her skin and yet setting her flesh alight. ‘Then what say we seal this deal with a kiss?’
She gasped and looked up at him in shock. That message cleared a way through the fog in her brain as if it had been shot from a cannon. ‘We could always just shake hands.’
‘We could,’ he agreed, both hands weaving their magic behind her head, his thumbs tracing the line of her jaw while he studied her face. ‘But given we will no doubt have to get used to at least this, we might as well start now.’
And he angled her upturned face and dipped his own until his lips met hers. Fear held her rigid, that and a heart that had taken on a life of its own and threatened to jump out of her chest. But as his lips moved over hers, gentler than she’d imagined possible, gentle but, oh, so sure, she sighed into the kiss, participating, matching him.
One hand scooped down her back, pressing her to him from chest to thigh, her nipples exquisitely sensitive to the chest that met hers, heat pooling low down between her thighs, making her more aware than she’d ever been of her own physical needs. They called to her now, announcing their presence with logicnumbing desperation until her knees, once stiff with shock, threatened to buckle under her. She trembled, reaching for him, needing something to steady herself as his mouth wove some kind of magic upon her own.
It was just a kiss. Tender almost, more gentle than she would ever expect this man to give, but, oh, so thorough in its impact. Her fingers tangled in his shirt, her fingertips drinking in the feel of the firm flesh beneath and she was sure she felt him shudder. Was this how a man felt, rock-hard and solid, as opposed to a boy? Kurt had claimed to be twenty-six and told her he worked out regularly, but his body had been white-bread soft and just as unsatisfying.
But Andreas felt as if he’d been sculpted from marble, firm flesh over muscle and skin that felt like satin and her fingers itched to feel more. Ached to feel more.
Then just as suddenly the kiss was over, his lips departing, and she was left bereft and breathless blinking up at him. He said nothing, just looked down at her, his dark eyes swirling with questions until a bubble of panic rose up inside her.
Had he spotted her lack of experience? Would he change his mind and toss her out, now that she’d finally agreed to his terms?
‘I guess we have a deal,’ he surprised her by saying, before letting her go. ‘You might want to settle in. I have some work to do with the lawyers and I’ll arrange for the necessary papers to be drawn up.’
‘The papers?’ She’d just been kissed senseless and he expected her to suddenly know what he was talking about. ‘What papers?’
‘The contract. This is a business arrangement. I think we both need the assurance it will stay that way.’
‘Oh, of course.’ She nodded as if she understood completely. When what she knew about business law would fit through the eye of a needle. Which was what had got her into her mess with Kurt. A gentlemen’s agreement, he’d told her, and she’d been fool enough to believe he was gentleman enough to honour the terms. So much for trust.
Andreas clearly wasn’t into trust or gentlemen’s agreements, for which she should be thankful, even if it rubbed that he might not trust her. But if a contract meant she’d get her money and not get ripped off this time, she could live with it.
A wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over her, the adrenaline rush of the last half-hour, the events of the last twenty-four hours, especially the emotional upheaval of the last four when she’d been wrenched from her bed, catching up with her. She needed sleep and she needed it badly. ‘Which way to my room?’
He’d already pulled his cell phone from his pocket and made the connection. He looked up and frowned before turning away, a torrent of Greek pouring into the phone.
Okay, so she’d find it by herself. She hauled her pack over her shoulder and aimed for one of the two doors she knew didn’t lead to the hallway outside. One of them would be her room for sure.
She found a bedroom off the living room, a massive king-sized bed covered in almost a dozen pillows taking centre stage. She opened one cupboard and found a line of shirts and trousers hanging inside. Andreas’ wardrobe, then. She took another door that led into a massive marble bathroom, complete with bath, shower and bidet, and then took another door out, only to find herself back in the living room where Andreas was still on the phone.
He raised one eyebrow when he saw her emerge and she raised her own. ‘My room?’ she mouthed quietly and he frowned and pointed to the door she’d first entered and her heart leapt into her mouth. Surely he wasn’t expecting them to share? Even though he’d hinted that it might be necessary to maintain the illusion, there was no one else here to pretend for now. And hadn’t she made it plain enough that she wouldn’t sleep with him? She shook her head and her panicked thoughts must have been laid bare in her eyes. He covered the handset with one hand and pointed to a sofa. ‘I’m sleeping there,’ he growled. ‘The bedroom is all yours.’
She retraced her steps to the bedroom and dug through her bag until she found her pyjamas and toilet bag and ducked into the bathroom, feeling embarrassed and stupid and relieved all at the same time. Of course he didn’t want to sleep with her! What the hell had she been thinking? Their deal was for her to pretend to be his mistress, not be the real thing. One kiss had scrambled her brain completely. One kiss and she was practically expecting him to make love to her.
She adjusted the water temperature and stepped into the cloudburst of a shower. The pounding of the steamy water was like a salve to her weary muscles and tired body, but still she was out in record time, simultaneously pulling on her pyjamas and cleaning her teeth in case Andreas needed the bathroom. Her stomach rumbled and she realised she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. But she was used to that. It was the one reason her jeans fitted her now, rather than stretching at the seams like when she’d first arrived in London. At least her mad job had achieved what ten years of New Year’s resolutions had failed to deliver. Anyway, she was too tired to eat now. All she wanted to do was collapse into bed.
She pulled the hair tie from her hair, shaking the damp ends free as she surveyed the object in question. Compared to the camp bed she was used to, the bed seemed to stretch an acre in every direction. And it was all for her. But which side was his? Or did his lordship like to occupy the middle? He might be going to sleep on the sofa outside, but just the knowledge that he’d slept here last night and she could be sharing that same place seemed too intimate, too personal. She hovered at the side a while, before exhaustion got the better of her and she climbed into the closest side, finding herself enveloped in cloud-soft luxury, the scent of Andreas on her pillow, the comforter so soft and warm around her it was like a hug from her nanna.
The bright side, she thought dreamily, was that sooner than she’d expected she’d be home and hugging her nanna again. There was always a bright side.
She pulled her mask over her eyes to shut out the ribbon of light seeping under the door,