The Tycoon's Trophy Mistress. Lee Wilkinson
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‘She was playing around with another man when it happened.’
Her companion waited, his eyes on her face.
Though she had had no intention of revealing any more, Charlotte found herself saying, ‘He was an oil company executive and barely a month after my father’s funeral she married him and went to live in the Middle East.’
Knowing Tim Hunt must have been just a schoolboy at the time, Daniel waited for her to go on. But once again she said nothing about her stepbrother.
After a moment, he probed, ‘I guess you were still at college?’
Wondering vexedly why she had told him so much, Charlotte answered briefly, ‘Yes, I was.’
Seeing she didn’t want to carry on the conversation and watching her smother another yawn, he said, ‘Nap time, I think.’
He adjusted the angle of the seats so that they were reclining comfortably and gathered her close.
‘Put your head on my shoulder.’ He settled her head at the comfortable juncture between chest and shoulder, adding, as he might have done to a child, ‘I’ll keep you safe.’
For an instant everything seemed to stop—her heartbeat, her breathing, her very lifeblood—and she froze into stillness.
Then, with a kind of backlash, she felt an almost uncontrollable urge to tear herself away and cry Keep your hands off me, you swine!
But the last thing she must do was let her true feelings show. She had to play-act for all she was worth.
Though for the moment any acting ability seemed to have totally deserted her.
Recalling Carla’s advice, she knew she should be snuggling against him, doing the ‘wide-eyed and helpless’ bit, but somehow she couldn’t.
Breathing in the clean freshness of his shirt, the faint suggestion of shower-gel and the masculine scent of his aftershave, all she could do was stay quite still, every muscle in her body taut.
‘Relax,’ he urged softly.
Only too aware of his overpowering maleness, the firmness of bone and muscle beneath her cheek, the sureness and strength of his arm holding her, she knew it would be impossible to relax.
But after a while, with a weight of warmth and tiredness lying over her body like a cashmere shawl, her tension drained away and she slept.
When she finally stirred and resurfaced for a second or two she had no idea where she was, or who was holding her so closely.
‘Feeling better, Miss Michaels…?’ a pleasant male voice queried.
‘Yes, thank you,’ she mumbled.
Looking into forest-green eyes still dazed with sleep, he added, ‘Or may I call you Charlotte…?’
‘Please do,’ she replied automatically as she gathered her wits and struggled to sit up.
His smile teasing, he said, ‘Somehow, I feel that watching over you while you slept has moved our relationship on to a more…shall we say…personal footing.’
Flustered by the thought of Daniel Wolfe watching her sleep, she drew hastily away.
Removing his arm and readjusting the seats, he pursued, ‘You must have been absolutely shattered. You’ve slept for almost two hours.’
A glance at her watch confirmed the truth of his statement. ‘I—I’m sorry,’ she stammered. ‘I haven’t been much company.’
In truth, he had enjoyed the chance to just hold her quietly and watch her sleeping face.
When Glenda, his younger sister, married and became a mother, she had once remarked how much time she and her husband had spent just looking at the cherished new arrival.
Finding it difficult to take his eyes off his companion, Daniel now knew exactly what his sister had meant.
Studying that glorious hair, the silky brows and thick, naturally-dark lashes that curled so enticingly, the pure curve of her cheek, he had felt a fierce desire.
Then noticing how, in repose, her soft mouth drooped a little at the corners, as though she’d forgotten how to be happy, he had felt an odd kind of tenderness mingling with desire.
Now seeing her look of genuine concern he shook his head. ‘There’s nothing to be sorry for, I do assure you.’
Tucking in a tendril of silky, red-gold hair that had escaped from its neat coil, Charlotte sighed inwardly. Though he sounded quite laid back about the lack of company she was vexed with herself. She should have been using that time to amuse him, rather than just sleeping.
Once they reached New York and went their separate ways, it would be too late…
‘About ready for some lunch?’ His voice broke into her thoughts.
Finding herself unexpectedly hungry, she nodded.
‘What do you fancy?’ He handed her a menu that bore little resemblance to the kind of airline food she had been served in the past.
Seeing her hesitate, he asked, ‘Something wrong?’
‘I’m just bowled over by the choice,’ she admitted. ‘I usually travel economy class.’
He grinned. ‘Oh yes, I remember it well.’
‘You do?’ She failed to hide her surprise.
With a kind of wry self-mockery he told her, ‘After graduating, to see what I was made of, I spent a couple of years working my way round the globe. At times cash was so tight that even those ubiquitous plastic containers were welcome…’
While they ate a leisurely lunch followed by coffee and brandy they talked about his travels and the various places he’d visited.
‘Have you travelled much?’ he asked at length.
‘Not as much as I would have wished.’
‘Even though you dislike flying?’
‘I wouldn’t have let that stop me. At one time I’d planned to go round the world when I finished college, but…’ She stopped speaking abruptly.
‘But?’
‘I had commitments.’ She still felt unbearably desolate and sad when she thought of Tim. Poor Tim. And it was all this man’s fault.
A fresh wave of anger and hatred shook her.
Watching her, Daniel waited.
When she said nothing he queried carefully, ‘Is there anywhere in particular you’d still like to go?’
Taking a deep steadying breath she answered, ‘Quite a lot of places. But until earlier this year Carla—the girl I share the flat with—has been lighting candles for my financial status.’
‘It doesn’t sound as if we’re paying you enough.’
‘As I said, I had commitments.’
It seemed as if Sheering had been right when he suggested that Charlotte had been supporting her stepbrother, Daniel thought, and once again he waited, hoping she would go on.
But her face had that still, controlled look he was coming to recognize and, sighing inwardly, he decided to back off and change the subject.
Leaving the more emotive topics, he began to talk about international finance and how it affected current business interests.
After a moment, appearing cool and collected now, she joined in and held her own in a conversation that, though general, was deep and wide-ranging.
He moved easily from money issues and world trade to global warming and the preservation of natural resources. All the time testing her knowledge, seeking her reaction, asking her opinion, which, greatly to her surprise, often