Mistress Under Contract - Page 31

He was still for a moment. ‘I’m needing a bar manager.’

Job. It was job-related. Her heart slammed down to the heels of her cowgirl boots. Or would if she were wearing them. As far as she knew he still had them. So it was to the soles of her sandals that it sank, squashed.

‘You see—’ his smile was slightly self-mocking ‘—I find myself with this bar to look after and I need someone to manage it for me.’

‘I thought it had been sold.’

‘It has.’

‘So how come you’re still worrying about it?’

‘Because I bought it.’

‘What?’

His smile widened. ‘I bought it.’

She sat up, jaw hanging a mile open. ‘You bought Principesa? Why did you do that? How did you do that? Do you just happen to have half a million sitting in the bank or something? Did you just fancy a new business?’

‘I like it. I like being there.’

‘Haven’t you got enough on your plate?’

‘Probably. But I’m a man who likes a challenge.’

She clamped her mouth shut as she absorbed what he was saying. He’d bought the bar. And he wanted her to run it. She should be happy. She should be saying, ‘Fabulous, yeah. I’ll be there.’ But it was all wrong. Something major was missing.

She felt sadder than she had in all the days just past and felt the sting of tears threatening.

Sure, he still wanted her. But just as his bed mate? His sleeping pill in human form?

Not good enough.

She didn’t want to be his modern mistress. She didn’t want a casual agreement between two consenting adults. What was happening to her? She’d come over all fairy tale and knight on white charger and she wanted happy ever after. She didn’t want to be his bed partner for as long as he felt like it. Have him finish with her when he was bored and leave her working in his bar and having to watch him with other women. And there would be other women. She’d been wrong about him. Sure, he wore a suit, but in no way was he boring. He was so attractive. He was offering her the job of her dreams but she couldn’t do it. The price was too high.

‘Um. Thanks for thinking of me, Daniel, but I’m afraid I can’t.’

He scrutinised her relentlessly. ‘Why not?’

How did she answer that without giving herself away completely? She focused on a patch of the grass about three feet away. ‘Um.’ Help, brain, think!

‘Does it help if I tell you that I bought the bar because I believe in you? That I believe you can run it better than anyone? And that I believe you can stick at it?’

No, it didn’t help. Because she had no desire to stick at that particular bar unless she also had his heart well and truly won.

‘I’m sorry, Daniel, but…’

‘But what?’ he whispered.

She looked up at him then, compelled to honesty by his nearness and warmth. ‘It’s not enough.’

The expression in his eyes was not one of disappointment or anger. It looked a lot like victory.

Completely confused, she scrambled to her feet, wishing she could be bad enough to leave the remnants of her picnic and run, but some rules she just couldn’t break—no littering, for one. She stared at the mess of wrappers and didn’t know what to do.

He stood. Put his arms around her. A loose prison that she knew she could escape from if she wanted. If she had the strength. She took a half-hearted step away.

‘Tell me you don’t want to stay,’ he whispered again in her ear as his arms pulled her back to him.

She wouldn’t lie. Had promised. And he meant everything.

He whispered again. ‘Tell me you don’t want me.’

He knew. Oh, God, he knew. That she was his and that she was wanting to run away because she couldn’t deal with having him but not having all of him. Not wanting to live life in the shadow of a ticking clock.

He stepped closer. His arms tightened around her, the length of his body setting her own alight. It was a fire she couldn’t cope with any more. Catching her eyes with his, he wouldn’t let her break away. The old challenge. He spoke again, his voice low but clear. Heartbreakingly clear. ‘Tell me you don’t love me.’

She stared back at him in horror. Tears welling. The sob rose and she only managed to stop half of it escaping. She squeezed her eyes shut, tucking her head down and away from him, unable to do the same with her body because he held her to him so tightly.

His whisper in her ear crushed her. ‘Why are you doing this, Lucy?’

‘Daniel…’ Her voice failed as her emotion cracked open.

‘Tears? Not from you.

Not from my feisty, free spirit.’

But they streamed down her face as he kissed her neck, sweeping aside her wild hair, bending her back so he had access to her throat—so he could brush his lips against it.

‘I won’t let you do it. I won’t let you go.’

She felt shattered because he wouldn’t. Devastated because it wouldn’t be over until he said so. And she would live in the shadow. It would be slow torture. ‘You have to. Please.’

His grip tightened. His hand twisted in her hair as he held her face up to him. ‘No.’ His kisses moved across her jaw. Tasting her tears.

‘Why?’

‘Why do you think?’ His other hand slipped from her waist to her bottom. Pulling her hard against his groin. Hot. Hard. Primed.

‘You want me.’

He lifted his head. ‘I do.’ He kissed her cheekbone.

It wasn’t enough. It would fade. And she wanted more. So much more.

But he kept kissing. And talking. ‘I want to have you.’ He kissed the other cheek. ‘To hold you.’ He continued kissing, punctuating his words. ‘From this day forward. Sickness. Health. Richer. Poorer. I’ll always want you.’

She slackened against him. ‘Daniel. What are you saying?’

‘Don’t you get it, Lucy? I’m not letting you go. Ever.’

‘But you don’t believe in marriage. Or commitment.’

‘I’m thinking it’s an institution not unlike the law. Not perfect, but if we work within the system we can make it better.’

Her body started trembling, top-to-toe uncontrollable shaking that she tried to hold back, because she couldn’t believe what was happening. What he was implying.

He spoke again. ‘You can say it or not. It doesn’t matter. But I know.’ His arrogance endearing yet terrifying. ‘You love me.’

She stared. Couldn’t speak, couldn’t even swallow. The lump in her throat was that huge.

His smile broke into monumental proportions. ‘You do. And I can’t live without that love.’ His eyes gleamed, hot gold pouring out brilliant light.

Entranced, she gazed at him. Beautiful. Gifted. But a lover to whom she had no right—she wasn’t right for him. The full force of fear flooded her—love, doubt, despair. This was a mistake that might scuttle his career.

Tags: Natalie Anderson Billionaire Romance
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