Memoirs of a Millionaire's Mistress - Page 42

He shook his head. ‘You look beat. Let’s get you out of here.’

She squared her shoulders and sat straighter. ‘I might look a little under the weather tonight, but I’m not the fragile woman you think I am. I’ve worked in drop-in centres like this in Sydney. I’ve seen it before.’

She saw a new respect in his eyes but he only said, ‘You were ill this afternoon.’

‘I’m fine now. I can wait if you’re not done.’

‘I was on my way over to tell you we were leaving.’

‘I need to help Joan clean—’

‘She’s got it covered. We’re closing up now.’

Didi noticed the kids dispersing. A security guard manned the door. ‘Where will they go now?’

‘Wherever they came from.’ He blew out a breath. ‘At least they know they’ll be safe here, if only for a little while. Come on.’

‘They trust you,’ Didi murmured. And trust, not the sexual buzz she got from his touch, had her putting her hand in his when he offered it over the table top.

CHAPTER TEN

CAM parked the car in the basement. He must be mad—a willing woman waiting to warm his bed and blot out the memories that stalked him tonight more than most, and he was hesitating.

The tension in the car had been building all the way home. He’d blanked out the past hour’s events and concentrated on nothing except how quickly he could get Didi naked. A survival mechanism, he supposed.

Now he burned, his groin hardening to her proximity, her subtle soap scent teasing his nostrils. He could be inside her slick wet heat in under five minutes, filling his hands with silky flesh and familiarising himself with her taste in all those musky feminine places he’d not explored to his satisfaction yet.

Blocking out the bad.

So why was he gripping the steering wheel and saying, ‘How about a stroll?’

She turned to him, her eyes unreadable. ‘If you want.’

But he couldn’t interpret that tone of voice as he watched her push open the door. He’d made a mistake taking her there tonight, he thought now, grabbing a jacket from the back seat. Allowing her to see more of him than he’d intended.

He pressed his keypad, the click of the locks echoed in the car park’s stillness, then he turned to Didi. Her skin appeared almost translucent under the harsh fluorescent light and he hesitated. ‘You sure you’re up to it?’

She wrapped her coat tighter about her. ‘Of course I am.’

They walked a few moments, not touching. They crossed Flinders Street and took the pedestrian bridge over the River Yarra to Southbank. The night breeze carried the smell of the river. An enticing aroma of Japanese cooking. He could hear the ebb and flow of voices and a band playing a nightspot nearby. If he looked up, the Eureka Tower blotted out the stars. If only he could blot out the past as easily.

His mouth was dry; he longed for a double whisky on ice. Something to dull the edge. ‘I could do with a drink. There’s a bar I think you’ll like.’ He took her hand in his.

Polished auburn marble spread warmth throughout the lobby, shards of light refracted rainbows from the huge chandeliers.

‘We’re not dressed for this place,’ Didi said as they passed function attendees in glittering gowns and crisp dinner suits making their way down the wide curving staircase. ‘It’s five star, for goodness’ sake.’

‘You should feel right at home, then.’ Realising sarcasm was inappropriate, he squeezed her fingers. ‘No one’s looking at us.’

It occurred to him that Kat wouldn’t be seen dead in worn jeans in a place like this. Kat wouldn’t be seen in worn jeans, period, nor had she ever accompanied him to the drop-in centre. Whereas Didi had apparently been involved in a similar voluntary capacity.

He found a spot in the lounge bar, relatively private, overlooking the lobby where water rippled over marble and ornate gilt mirrors reflected elaborate floral arrangements on glass-topped tables.

‘What would you like?’

She shook her head as she removed her coat. ‘Nothing alcoholic; I took that medication earlier. A pot of green tea if they serve it.’

‘Tea, it is.’

She folded her arms, rested them on the table, her shadowed cleavage above a faded pink T-shirt a temptation to forget about Lizzie and Amy and the whole damn world and concentrate on the sweet diversion she could offer.

When the world went crazy…‘Aside from the tea what would you really like?’

Her eyes sparkled in the lights. ‘To be able to snuggle back into my dressing gown on a couch deep enough to get lost in and…’ She trailed off, her voice husky with memories of last night as her eyes met his. And the sparkle turned hot.

Tags: Anne Oliver Billionaire Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024