The Tycoon's Mistress: His Cinderella Mistress

Wishing that he could feel the same, Max sobered heavily, his earlier annoyance at what he was sure were January’s evasive tactics returning with a vengeance.

But if she thought she would succeed in avoiding him for ever, she was in for a surprise.

A big surprise!

CHAPTER TWO

‘MAY, what on earth is wrong with you today?’ January frowned concernedly at her eldest sister, May having dropped one of the plates as the three of them stood up to clear away after eating their dinner.

May had been banging the pots and pans around serving the meal when January had come downstairs earlier, had been very quiet during dinner, only adding the odd grunt to the conversation between January and March as the three of them had eaten.

The three sisters—May, twenty-seven; March, twenty-six, and January, twenty-five—were very alike to look at, all tall and dark-haired, with a creamy magnolia skin—although that tended to colour to a healthy tan during the summer months. Only their eyes were different, May’s green, March’s a mixture of green and grey, and January’s smoky grey.

But May, being the eldest, had always been the calm, unruffled one, able to deal with any emergency. Something she certainly didn’t seem to be doing this evening!

‘Still tired from doing the pantomime?’ January sympathized.

Completely absorbed in the farm most of the time, May had found an outlet from that several years ago by joining the local drama group. They had put on the pantomime Aladdin in the small local theatre over the Christmas period, with May being given the leading role, traditionally played by a female. It had been tiring but fun, but had necessitated May being involved in evening and matine´e performances over several days, as well as working on the farm.

‘If only it were that…’ May looked up now from picking up the pieces of broken plate. ‘We had a visitor today,’ she stated flatly.

January instantly stiffened, wary of whom that ‘visitor’ might have been; she might have escaped from the intense Max the night before, but she doubted he was a man who cared to be fobbed off by anyone. Quite how he might have found out where she lived, she had no idea, but she doubted even that was beyond him…

May’s green eyes swam with unshed tears as she straightened. ‘You remember that letter we had before Christmas? The one from that lawyer on behalf of some big American corporation? About buying the farm,’ she prompted as both March and January looked blank.

‘Of course we remember it. Damned cheek!’ March scorned as she grabbed some kitchen towel to wipe up the mess from the plate that had landed on the stone floor. ‘If we were interested in selling then we would have put the farm on the market.’ She threw the soiled towel deftly into the bin.

‘Yes,’ May sighed, sitting down heavily in a kitchen chair. ‘Well, the lawyer came in person to see us today. Or rather me, as I was the only one available at the time.’ She grimaced.

January, as was her usual routine on the nights she was working, had been in bed most of the day, and March had been out making the most of the New Year’s Day public holiday as she had a job she went to from nine till five Monday to Saturdays usually. May was the only sister who worked full-time on their small hillside farm, who also did most of the cooking and cleaning, too. It wasn’t the most ideal arrangement, meant that they all effectively had two jobs, but the farm just wasn’t big enough to support all three sisters without the additional financial help of January’s and March’s outside employment.

Their visitor obviously hadn’t been the intense Max, but January wasn’t sure she liked the sound of this particular visitor, either.

‘I thought it was all just some sort of joke.’ January frowned now as she could see just how upset her eldest sister was.

May gave a humourless laugh. ‘This lawyer didn’t seem to think so,’ she muttered. ‘In fact, he went so far as to offer an absolutely ridiculous price for the farm.’ She scowled as she quoted the price.

January gasped, March swallowed hard; all of them knew that the farm wasn’t worth anywhere near as much as the offer being made. Which posed the question, why was this lawyer offering so much for what was, after all, only forty acres of land, a few outbuildings, and a far from modern farmhouse?

‘What’s the catch?’ March prompted shrewdly.

‘Apart from immediate vacancy, there didn’t seem to be one,’ May answered slowly.

‘Apart from—! But we were all born here,’ January protested incredulously.

‘This is our home!’ March said at the same time.

May gave the semblance of a smile. ‘I told him that. He didn’t seem impressed.’ She shrugged.

‘Probably because he lives in some exclusive penthouse apartment somewhere,’ March muttered disgruntledly. ‘He wouldn’t recognize a “home” if he were invited into one. You didn’t invite him in, I hope?’ she said sharply.

May gave a firm shake of her head. ‘I was outside loading hay onto the trailer for feeding when he arrived. Once he had introduced himself, and his reason for being here, I made sure we stayed outside in the yard. His tailor-made suit certainly wasn’t suitable for visiting a hillside farm in January, and he got his highly polished handmade shoes all muddy, too,’ she added dryly.

January laughed at her elder sister’s look of satisfaction. ‘And you sent him away with a flea in his ear, I hope!’

‘Mmm.’ May nodded, that frown back between clear green eyes. ‘But I have a distinct feeling he’ll be back.’

‘What’s it all about, do you think?’ January frowned her own concern.

‘Oh, that’s easy,’ March answered dismissively. ‘The same corporation this lawyer represents bought the Hanworth estate a couple of months ago for development of some kind. And with our farm smack in the middle of the Hanworth land…’ She shrugged. ‘I expect we’re rather in the way.’

James Hanworth, the local equivalent of ‘squire’ the last fifty-five years, had died six months ago, leaving no wife or children to inherit his vast estate, just half a dozen distant relatives who had obviously decided to sell the place and divide the profits.

‘Why didn’t you tell us that before?’ May turned to March impatiently. ‘No wonder they’re trying to buy us out!’ she added disgustedly.

Yes, no wonder, January mentally agreed. But this farm had first belonged to her grandparents, and then her parents, and now the three sisters, and, although it was sometimes a struggle to financially survive, selling it wasn’t something any of them had ever considered. It was the only home they had ever known…

She gave a glance at her wrist-watch. ‘Look, I have to get ready for work now, but we’ll talk about this further over breakfast in the morning, okay?’

‘Okay,’ May nodded ruefully.

January reached out to give her sister’s arm a comforting squeeze. ‘No one can make us sell if we don’t want to.’

‘No,’ her eldest sister sighed. ‘But, stuck in the middle like this, they could make life very difficult for us if they choose to.’

‘Depends what sort of development they’re thinking of having,’ March put in thoughtfully. ‘I’ll check into that tomorrow and see what I can find out.’

‘Don’t get yourself into trouble over it,’ May warned in her concerned mother-hen way. As the eldest of the three sisters, having lost their mother when they were all very young, May had taken on the role of matriarch at a very early age, and after the death of their father the previous year she now took that role doubly seriously.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’ March grinned dismissively, always the more reckless sister of the trio.

‘I’ll see you both in the morning,’ January told them laughingly, well accustomed to the battle of wills that often ensued between her cautious and more impetuous sisters.

She hurried up the stairs to get herself ready for this evening, choosing another black dress this time, knee-length, with a low neckline and long black sleeves ending in a dramatic vee at her slender wrists. Her hair she pulled back with jewelled combs, leaving wispy tendrils against her creamy cheeks.

It was slightly strange to lead these double lives, dressing glamorously for her role as a singer compared to the usual thick baggy jumpers, old denims and wellington boots when she was on the farm. Somehow the two didn’t seem compatible…

It was troubling about the farm, though, she considered on her drive to the hotel. As March was only too keen to point out, no one could force them to sell if they didn’t want to—which they certainly didn’t. But what May had said was also true: life could be made very difficult for them if some sort of development completely surrounded their land and the farm.

There were such things as right of way, and water rights, for one thing; James Hanworth had never troubled about such things, had accepted that the Calendar farm was adjacent to his, and that access and water were a necessary part of its success. Somehow January doubted the new owner—a corporation, no less—would be quite as magnanimous.

It was testament to how troubling she found the situation that she hadn’t even given the man Max a second thought until she went into the almost deserted piano-bar and found him sitting there chatting to John, the barman!

For some reason she had assumed Max would only be staying at the hotel the previous night. Erroneously, as it turned out.

‘Ah, January.’ Max turned to look at her with mocking blue eyes as she went straight over to the piano to arrange her music for the evening. He strolled over to stand only feet away from her. ‘I believe there was some sort of confusion last night as to where we were to meet each other at the end of the evening?’

He believed no such thing, knew very well that she had deliberately slipped away through another door in order to avoid meeting him.

‘Was there?’ January raised her head to look at him, her gaze steady—despite the fact that she felt an inner quiver of awareness at the physical impact of his attractiveness in the lounge suit and blue shirt.

He really was a very attractive man, and January would be deceiving herself if she denied responding to that attraction. It was his sheer intensity of personality that she found a little overwhelming.

‘I like to think so.’ He smiled, a pulse-jumping, heart-stopping smile.

As if to give lie to her wariness of his previous intensity… ‘Maybe we can do better this evening?’ he suggested mildly.

He really was trying to lighten up, wasn’t he? January accepted with an inner amusement. But not hard enough to conceal the fact that he was still determined to spend time alone with her…

‘Perhaps,’ she returned noncommittally. ‘If you’ll excuse me? I have to start my first session,’ she added to take the bluntness out of her previous statement.

‘Of course,’ he accepted lightly, moving back slightly to allow her to seat herself at the piano, before bending forward, his mouth only inches from her ear. ‘You’re looking even more beautiful this evening than you did last night,’ he murmured huskily, the warmth of his breath stirring the tendrils of hair against her cheeks.

January swallowed hard, tilting her head back slightly to look up into his face. A face still only mere inches away from hers… ‘Thank you,’ she accepted softly.

Max straightened, that smile back on his lips as he looked down at her admiringly. ‘Very graciously said,’ he told her appreciatively.

January gave a mocking inclination of her head, determined not to let him see that his proximity was unnerving her. Even if it was! ‘I like to think so,’ she dryly returned his own comment of a few minutes ago.

He chuckled appreciatively. ‘I’ll have a drink waiting for you at the bar when you have your break. John tells me that you usually prefer a sparkling water.’

She gave an irritated frown at the thought of this man discussing her likes and dislikes with a third person, even someone as innocuous as John. ‘The whole point of my having a break is to give me a few minutes to relax.’ Something she certainly couldn’t do around him!

‘Then we won’t talk,’ he promised lightly.

No one could have accused him of being a chatterbox the previous evening! But this man didn’t need to say anything to totally disrupt her equilibrium; just having him sitting there staring at her was enough to make her nervous.

‘Fine,’ she accepted tautly.

Max looked at her consideringly for several long seconds. ‘The last time you agreed with me so readily you made an escape out the back door,’ he said slowly.

January felt the guilty colour warm her cheeks; she had said and done exactly that, hadn’t she…?

‘Well, this time I won’t,’ she assured him impatiently. ‘Okay?’

‘Okay,’ he acknowledged with a slight inclination of his head. ‘By the way…’ he paused before leaving ‘…you have the most incredibly sexy voice, speaking or singing, that I have ever heard,’ he told her softly before walking away.

Oh, very conducive to calming her already frayed nerves—she didn’t think!

Better, Max, he congratulated himself as he resumed his seat on a stool at the bar. Much better. Just the right balance of humour and determination. All he had to do now was keep it up for the next few hours!

All! When January had walked into the room a short time ago wearing that figure-hugging black dress, showing a long expanse of shapely legs beneath its knee-length, he had literally stopped breathing for several seconds, the blood singing heatedly in his veins, and as for the rest of his body—! That sort of response just at the sight of a woman hadn’t happened to him since he was a raw teenager!

But he had regrouped, he assured himself, had spoken to her confidently and yet not too forcefully, infusing humour into the banter they had exchanged.

And then he had told her how sexy he found the sound of her voice!

Okay, okay, so he had slipped back a little there. But it had been worth it—if only to see the warm colour that had suffused her cheeks, the sparkle in those incredibly beautiful grey eyes!

At thirty-seven, Max had known many beautiful and accomplished women, been involved with several of them, but those women had been far too worldly-wise themselves to blush at something that was said to them; it was refreshing to know that January wasn’t such a sophisticate.

How old was she? he wondered. Mid-twenties, probably, he decided. Not too young that he felt guilty over this single-minded interest he had found in her, but not too old that she had forgotten how to blush at a compliment.

‘Great girl, isn’t she?’ The barman spoke admiringly as he stood polishing glasses in preparation for the busy evening ahead, obviously having followed Max’s line of vision. ‘Not in the least stand-offish like some of the singers we’ve had in here in the past,’ John added with a pointed grimace.

Max sensed that John could be a great source of information about January. If Max chose to pursue it. Which he didn’t…

For some reason he felt a great need to get to know January for himself, to unpeal each protective layer, until he knew her totally. Like that parcel in the children’s game where you took one wrapper off at a time as the music stopped, until at last you arrived at the treasure within.

Once again he thanked his lucky stars that his good friend Jude wasn’t about to witness his interest in January; he had no doubt that the other man would have found it highly amusing to see Max floundering around in the throes of this unexpected attraction!

Amusing? He doubted Jude would be able to stop laughing for a week!

Although Max’s total lack of success so far in the main reason for his being here would probably wipe that smile from the other man’s face, Max conceded with a frown as he thought of his meeting earlier today. A more stubborn, unyielding—! Not that he had given up, not for a moment—it was just going to take a little longer to accomplish what he had come here to do than he had at first supposed. But now that he had met January, that delay certainly wasn’t a drawback, as far as he was concerned!

He had the distinct impression that January was going to be an even harder conquest than the business deal he had come here to complete on Jude’s behalf!

The piano-bar slowly filled up as the sound of January singing drifted through to the other reception rooms, a rather noisy party of young men obviously on a stag-night part of the crowd that now stood at the bar, several of those young men obviously ogling January in her sexy black dress. Giving him the hitherto unknown feelings of jealousy at the thought of any man looking at her but him!

Which was ridiculous, considering her choice of career; the way she looked was as much a part of that career as her sexily attractive voice.

All well and good, Max, he derided his own logic—but that still didn’t stop the need he felt to get up and wrap his jacket around her so that she was hidden from any other male eyes but his!

‘Whisky,’ he turned to order from John grimly. ‘Make it a double,’ he added harshly as one of the young men strolled over to chat with January as she turned the music over between songs.

John gave him a quizzical look as he set the whisky glass down in front of Max. ‘January knows how to take care of herself,’ he offered lightly by way of advice.

Little comfort, when Max wanted to take care of her himself. Take care of her! He wanted to pick her up in his arms, carry her up to his hotel suite and make love to her until they were both too weak to do anything else but lay satiated in each other’s arms. And then he wanted to start all over again!

She was laughing up at the young man now, completely relaxed in his company. But it was too much for Max, just too much, when the young man bent his head to give January a less-than-brotherly kiss on the lips!

He wasn’t even aware of crossing the room, let alone having grabbed hold of the collar of the other man’s jacket as he pulled him forcibly away from January, his face only inches away from the young man’s as he glared down at him.

‘Max…?’ January gasped softly from somewhere behind him. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she snapped incredulously.

Max narrowed his gaze briefly on the younger man before he turned to look questioningly at January. ‘He was bothering you—’

She was standing now, shaking her head frowningly. ‘Josh is a friend, Max,’ she murmured as she gently released his hand from the other man’s jacket. ‘He’s marrying my cousin Sara next Saturday,’ she added pointedly.

That may be so, Max acc epted grimly, but the kiss he had given January had looked far from ‘cousin-inlawly’ to him!

‘You’re causing a scene,’ January muttered awkwardly.

Several people in the now crowded bar were watching them curiously, the group of young men who had come in with Josh amongst them. Probably getting ready to come to the aid of their friend, Max conceded self-derisively.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered to Josh as the younger man straightened his jacket, aware that the manager, Peter

Meridew, was also watching the exchange with a narrowed gaze.

January was right, what on earth had he thought he was doing? He might know that he was more interested in January than any other woman he had ever met, but as far as she was concerned he was merely a guest at the hotel who had bought her a drink last night!

He forced himself to relax. ‘I really do apologize if I overreacted just now,’ he told the other man more amiably.

‘No problem,’ Josh assured him dismissively. ‘It’s nice to know that someone is looking out for January,’ he added magnanimously.

‘I don’t—’

‘Perhaps I could buy you and your friends a drink?’ Max cut in lightly on what he was sure was going to be January’s assertion that she didn’t need, or want, anyone looking out for her. ‘I’m sure January would love to join us once she’s finished this session,’ he added challengingly.

January was more beautiful than ever when she was angry, Max discovered as he turned to her with raised brows, her eyes a deep sparkling grey, her cheeks flushed against magnolia skin, even her mouth appearing redder. And more kissable than ever, he realized uncomfortably.

‘The wedding is next Saturday, you say?’ He turned back to the younger man—as much for his own peace of mind as to break his gaze away from January’s fierce glare.

‘Three o’clock.’ Josh grinned happily. ‘You’re more than welcome to accompany January, if you would care to,’ he invited warmly.

‘You—’

‘Why don’t we go back to the bar and talk about that?’ Max suggested firmly at what he guessed was going to be January’s heated refusal to that suggestion. ‘We really shouldn’t interrupt you any longer,’ he told her dismissively, turning away with Josh to walk back to the bar.

But he was aware of January’s glaring gaze every step of the way!

Was equally sure that her next choice of song, something about ‘surviving’ and being ‘able to take care of herself’, was in direct response to what she believed to be his heavy-handed interference a few minutes ago.

So much for his keeping the evening light and amusing, he acknowledged self-derisively. He very much doubted that she would consider his almost punching her cousin-in-law-to-be in the mouth as either ‘light’ or ‘amusing’!

Nevertheless, he couldn’t resist raising his whisky glass in a toast to her as the song came to an end, receiving a narrow-eyed glare in return.

Max grinned in response. He couldn’t help himself. Persuading her into a relationship with him was not going to be easy. But he had never backed down from a challenge in his life before, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Besides, he might not have had too successful a day but, all things considered, it hadn’t been a bad evening so far. If all else failed where January was concerned, he could always fall back on the definite invitation he had received from Josh to attend the family wedding the following Saturday!

CHAPTER THREE

‘YOU can’t possibly go to the wedding with me next Saturday,’ January told Max firmly as she sat down at the table opposite him, the opportunity to tell him exactly this being the only reason she had agreed to have a drink with him at the end of the evening in the first place.

He eyed her with some amusement, blue eyes dark with suppressed laughter. ‘Why can’t I?’ he returned mildly. ‘Josh seemed perfectly sincere about the invitation.’

‘I’m sure that he was,’ January acknowledged disgruntledly, more than a little annoyed with her cousin-in-law-to-be for offhandedly having made the invitation at all. Kissing her as a stag-night bet was one thing, inviting Max to come to the wedding with her was something else entirely. ‘It simply isn’t possible,’ she insisted determinedly.

‘Why isn’t it?’ he prompted softly. ‘I didn’t get the impression, based on the fact that Josh made the invitation, that you intended going with anyone else,’ he added hardly.

‘Well, you were wrong,’ January told him stubbornly. ‘I’m going with my family,’ she enlightened impatiently as she saw the way his gaze narrowed speculatively. ‘Taking a complete stranger to the wedding with me would be tantamount to making some sort of announcement to the rest of my family,’ she added irritably as he returned her gaze blandly now. ‘An inappropriate announcement!’ She glared her annoyance at his inability not to have seen that in the first place.

He might have shown a marked interest in her the last two evenings, but she was sure he wouldn’t want to give either her or her family that particular impression!

‘It’s a week away, January.’ He shrugged. ‘A lot can happen in a week,’ he added enigmatically.

A lot always ‘happened’ in her week, her work on the farm and the singing at the hotel in the evenings keeping her more than busy—but this man, with his powerful good looks, and his rich sophistication, simply did not ‘happen’ in that life!