Hired: Mistress: Wanted: Mistress and Mother / His Private Mistress / The Millionaire's Secret Mistress

‘When I first met Hugh to discuss the garden, it was very clear that the hospital wanted a place that would provide respite,’ Matilda started. ‘A place where people could come and find if not peace then somewhere where they could gather their thoughts or even just take a breath that didn’t smell of hospitals.’ A few knowing nods from the crowd told her she was on the right track. ‘With the help of many, many people, I think we’ve been able to provide that. Hospitals can be stressful places, not just for the patients and relatives but for the staff also, and my aim when I took on this job was to create an area void of signs and directions and overhead loudspeakers, a place where people could forget for a little while all that was going on beneath them, and hopefully that’s been achieved.’

There were probably a million and one other things she could have said, no doubt someone else who needed to be thanked, but glancing out beyond the crowd, seeing the garden that had lived only in her mind’s eye alive and vibrant, Matilda decided it was time to let Mother Nature speak for herself, to wrap up the speeches and let the crowd explore the haven she had tried so hard to create. She summed up with one heartfelt word.

‘Enjoy!’

As Hugh cut the ribbon and the water jets danced into life, thin ribbons of water leaping into the air and catching the sunlight, Matilda felt a surge of pride at the oohs of the crowd and the excited shrieks of the children, doing just as she had intended: getting thoroughly wet and laughing as they did so. Only there was one child that didn’t join in with the giggling and running, one little toddler who stood perfectly still, staring transfixed at the jets of water with huge solemn eyes, blonde curls framing her face. For some reason Matilda found herself staring, found herself almost willing the little girl to run and dance with the others, to see expression in that little frozen face.

‘It’s pretty, isn’t it?’ Crouching down beside her, Matilda held one of her hands out, breaking the stream of one of the jets, the cool water running through her fingers. ‘You can touch it,’ Matilda said, watching as slowly, almost fearfully a little fat hand joined Matilda’s. A glimmer of a smile shivered on the little girl’s lips, those solemn eyes glittering now as she joined in with the simple pleasure. As she saw Hugh coming over, Matilda found herself strangely reluctant to leave the child, sure that with just another few moments she could have had her running and dancing with the rest of the children.

‘My granddaughter, Alex,’ Hugh introduced them, crouching down also, but his presence went unnoted by Alex, her attention focused on the water running through her hands. ‘She seems to like you.’

‘She’s adorable.’ Matilda smiled, but it wavered on her lips, questions starting to form in her mind as the little girl still just stood there, not moving, not acknowledging the other children or her grandfather, just utterly, utterly lost in her own little world. ‘How old is she?’

‘Two,’ Hugh said standing up, and pulling out a handkerchief, dabbing at his forehead for a moment.

‘Are you OK,’ Matilda checked, concerned at the slightly grey tinge to his face.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Hugh replied. ‘I’ve just been a bit off colour recently. She’s two,’ he continued, clearly wanting to change the subject. ‘It was as actually Alex that I was hoping to talk to you about.’

‘I thought it was a job…’ Her voice trailed off, both of their gazes drifting towards the little girl, still standing there motionless. But her face was lit up with a huge smile, utterly entranced at the sight before her though still she didn’t join in, she still stood apart, and with a stab of regret Matilda almost guessed what was coming next.

‘She’s been having some problems,’ Hugh said, his voice thick with emotion. ‘She was involved in a car accident over a year ago and though initially she appeared unharmed, gradually she’s regressed, just retreated really. She has the most appalling tantrums and outbursts followed by days of silence—the doctors are starting to say that she may be autistic. My wife Katrina and I are frantic…’

‘Naturally.’ Matilda gave a sympathetic smile, genuinely sorry to hear all Hugh was going through. He was a kind, gentle, friendly man, and even though they’d chatted at length over the last few months, he’d never given so much of a hint as to the problems in his personal life. But, then again, Matilda thought with a sigh, neither had she.

‘I told my son-in-law last night that my wife and I would like to do this for Alex as a gift. There’s a small gated area at the back of his property that I’m sure would be perfect for something like this—not on such a grand scale, of course, just somewhere that doesn’t have rocks and walls and a pool…’

‘Somewhere safe,’ Matilda volunteered.

‘Exactly.’ Hugh gave a relieved nod. ‘Somewhere she can’t fall and hurt herself, somewhere she can run around unhindered or just sit and look at something beautiful. Look, I know you’re booked up solidly for the next few months, but if one of the jobs gets cancelled could you bear me in mind? I hate to put pressure on you, Matilda, but I saw the joy in the children’s faces when they saw the garden today. And if it can help Alex…’ His voice trailed off and Matilda knew he wasn’t attempting to gain her sympathy, Hugh would never do that. ‘My son-in-law thinks that it’s just a waste of time, that it isn’t gong to help a bit, but at the very least Alex would have a garden that’s safe and gives her some pleasure. I’m sure I’ll be able to talk him around. At the end of the day he adores Alex—he’d do anything to help her.’

Matilda didn’t know what to say—her diary was fill to burst with smart mews townhouses all wanting the inevitable low-maintenance, high-impact garden—but here was the man who had given her the head start, given her this opportunity. And more importantly, Matilda thought, her eyes lingering on Alex, here was a little girl who deserved all the help she could get. Her mind was working overtime—she could almost see the lazy couple of weeks’ holiday she’d had planned before plunging into her next job slipping away out of her grasp as she took a deep breath and gave a small smile.

‘Hugh, I’d need to get some details and then I’d need to actually see the site before I commit, but I have a couple of weeks off before I start on my next job, and I’m on pretty good terms with a few people. If I called in a few favours maybe I could do it for you. Where does Alex live?’

‘Mount Eliza.’ Hugh saw her give a small grimace. It had nothing to do with the location—Mount Eliza was a stunning, exclusive location overlooking Port Phillip Bay—but the distance from the city meant that it would cut down Matilda’s working day considerably. ‘It was their holiday residence before the accident, but since then…Look, would it make it easier if you stayed there? There’s plenty of room.’

‘I don’t think I’d be able to do it otherwise,’ Matilda admitted. ‘I’ll have workers arriving at the crack of dawn and I’m going to need to be there to meet them and show them what I need done.’

‘It won’t be a problem,’ Hugh assured her, and after a moment of deep thought Matilda gave a small nod and then followed it up with a more definite one.

‘I’d be happy to do it.’

‘You mean it?’

‘Of course.’ Matilda smiled more widely now, Hugh’s obvious delight making her spur-of-the-moment choice easily the right one.

‘I feel awful that you won’t even get a break.’

‘That’s what being in business is all about apparently.’ Matilda shrugged her shoulders. ‘Anyway, I’m sure lean times will come—it won’t stay spring for ever and anyway it mightn’t be such a big job. I’d be glad to do it, Hugh, but I do need a few more details from you, and you need to get your son-in-law’s permission—I can’t go digging up his land and planting things if he doesn’t want me there in the first place. Now, I need to know the size of the land, any existing structures…’ Matilda gave in as yet another group was making its way over, and Hugh’s secretary tapped him on the arm to take an important phone call.

‘It’s impossible to discuss it here.’ Hugh gave an apologetic smile. ‘And it’s probably inappropriate. You should be enjoying the celebrations—perhaps we could do it over dinner tonight. I’ll see if my son-in-law can come along—I’m sure once he hears first hand about it he’ll be more enthusiastic. Actually, there he is—I’ll go and run it by him now.’

‘Good idea,’ Matilda agreed, crouching down again to play with Alex, her head turning to where Hugh was waving. But the smile died on her face as again she found herself staring at the man who had taken up so much of her mental energy today—watching as he walked around the water feature, a frown on his face as he watched her interact with his daughter.

‘Dante!’ Clearly not picking up on the tension, Hugh called him over, but Dante didn’t acknowledge either of them, his haughty expression only softening when Matilda stepped back, his features softer now as he eyed his daughter. Matilda felt a curious lump swell in her throat as, with infinite tenderness, he knelt down beside Alex, something welling within as he spoke gently to his daughter.

‘I’ll have a word with Dante and make a booking for tonight, then,’ Hugh checked hopefully—too pleased to notice Matilda’s stunned expression. The most she could manage was the briefest of nods as realisation started to dawn.

She’d barely managed two minutes in the lift with him and now she was about to be his house guest!

He’s a husband and father, Matilda reminded herself firmly, calming herself down a touch, almost convincing herself she’d imagined the undercurrents that had sizzled between them.

And even if she hadn’t misread things, even if there was an attraction between them, he was a married man and she wouldn’t forget it for a single moment!

CHAPTER TWO

SHE didn’t want to do this.

Walking towards the restaurant, Matilda was tempted to turn on her stilleto heels and run. She hated with a passion the formalities that preceded a garden makeover, looking at plans, talking figures, time-frames—and the fact she hadn’t even seen the garden made this meeting a complete time-waster. But, Matilda was quickly realizing, this type of thing was becoming more and more frequent. As her business took off, gone were the days where she rolled up on a doorstep in her beloved Blundstone boots, accepted a coffee if she was lucky enough to be offered one and drew a comprehensive sketch of her plans for the owners, along with a quote for her services—only to spend the next few days chewing her nails and wondering if they’d call, worrying if perhaps she’d charged too much or, worse, seriously underquoted and would have to make up the difference herself.

Now her initial meetings took place in people’s offices or restaurants, and even if she was lucky enough to be invited into their homes, Matilda had quickly learnt that her new clientele expected a smart, efficient professional for that first important encounter.

But it wasn’t just the formalities that were causing butterflies this evening. Ducking into the shadowy retreat of a large pillar beside the restaurant, Matilda stopped for a moment, rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small mirror. She touched up her lipstick and fiddled with her hair for a second, acknowledging the real reason for anxiety tonight.

Facing Dante.

Even his name made her stomach ball into a knot of tension. She’d wanted him to remain nameless—for that brief, scorching but utterly one-sided encounter to be left at that—to somehow push him to the back of her mind and completely forget about him.

And now she was going to be working for him!

Maybe this dinner was exactly what she needed, Matilda consoled herself, peeling herself from the pillar ready to walk the short distance that remained to the restaurant. Maybe a night in his arrogant, obnoxious, pompous company would purge whatever it was that had coursed through her system since she’d laid eyes on him, and anyway, Matilda reassured herself, Hugh was going to be there, too.

An impressive silver car pulling up at the restaurant caught Matilda’s attention and as the driver walked around and opened the rear door in a feat of self-preservation she found herself stepping back into the shadows, watching as the dignified figure of Dante stepped out—she had utterly no desire to enter the restaurant with him and attempt small talk until she had the reassuring company of Hugh.

He really was stunning, Matilda sighed, feeling slightly voyeuristic as she watched him walk. Clearly she wasn’t the only one who thought so. From the second he’d stepped out of the car, heads had turned, a few people halting their progress to watch as if it were some celebrity arriving on the red carpet. But just as the driver was about to close the car door, just as the doorman greeted him, a piercing shriek emanating from the car had every head turning.

Especially Dante’s.

Even from here she could see the tension etched in his face as he walked back towards the car, from where an anxious young woman appeared, holding the furious, livid, rigid body of his daughter. Grateful for the shadows, Matilda watched with something akin to horror as, oblivious to the gathering crowd, he took the terrified child from the woman and attempted to soothe her, holding her angry, unyielding body against his, talking to her in low, soothing tones, capturing her tiny wrists as she attempted to gouge him, her little teeth like those of a feral animal. Matilda had never seen such anger, never witnessed such a paroxysm of rage, could scarcely comprehend that it could come from someone so small.

‘That child needs a good smack, if you ask me,’ an elderly lady volunteered, even though no one had asked her. Matilda had to swallow down a smart reply, surprising herself at her own anger over such a thoughtless comment—tempted now to step out from the shadows and offer her support, to see if there was anything she could do to help. But almost as soon as it had started it was over. The fight that had fuelled Alex left her, her little body almost slumping in defeat, the shrieks replaced by quiet, shuddering sobs, which were so painfilled they were almost harder to bear. After a moment more of tender comfort, with a final nod Dante handed her back to the woman, his taut, strained face taking in every detail as the duo headed for the car, before, without deigning to give the crowd a glance, he headed into the restaurant.

Pushing open the door, though shaken from what she had just witnessed, Matilda attempted assurance as her eyes worked the restaurant, her smile ready for Hugh, but as the waiter took her name and guided her towards the table, she was again tempted to turn tail and run.

It was definitely a table for two—but instead of the teddy bear proportions of Hugh, instead of his beaming red face smiling to greet her, she was met by the austere face of Dante, his tall muscular frame standing as she approached, his face expressionless as she crossed the room. If Matilda hadn’t witnessed it herself, she’d never have believed what he’d just been through, for nothing in his stance indicated the hellish encounter of only moments before.

In her peripheral vision she was aware of heads turning, but definitely not towards her, could hear flickers of conversation as she walked towards him.

‘Is he famous…?’

‘He looks familiar…’

He looked familiar because he was perfection—a man that normally glowered from the centre of the glossiest of glossy magazines, a man who should be dressed in nothing more than a ten-thousand-dollar watch or in the driver’s seat of a luxury convertible.

He certainly wasn’t the type of man that Matilda was used to dining with…

And certainly not alone.

Please, Matilda silently begged, please, let a waiter appear, breathlessly dragging a table over, and preferably, another waiter, too, to hastily turn those two table settings into three. Please, please, let it not be how it looked.

‘Matilda.’ His manners were perfect, waiting till she was seated before sitting down himself, patiently waiting as she gave her drink order to the waiter. She was pathetically grateful that she’d chosen to walk to the restaurant—no mean feat in her fabulous new shoes, but there was no chance of a punctual taxi this time on a Friday evening, and by the time she’d parked she could have been here anyway.

Good choice.

Good, because she could now order a gin and tonic, and hopefully douse some of the rowdier butterflies that were dancing in her stomach

‘Hugh sends his apologies.’ Dante gave her a very on-off smile as Matilda frowned. The Hugh she knew would be the last person to have bailed—no matter how important the diversion. After all, he’d practically begged her to do the garden.

‘He had a headache after the opening. He didn’t look well, so I walked him back to his office where he had…’ Dante snapped his fingers, clearly trying to locate his word of choice. ‘He had a small turn,’ he said finally, as Matilda’s expression changed from a frown to one of horror.

‘Oh, my goodness…’

‘He’s OK,’ Dante said quickly. ‘His blood pressure has been very high for the past few months, the doctors have had him on several different combinations of tablets to try to lower it, but it would seem the one they’d recently given him has brought it down too low—that’s why he had a small collapse. Luckily we were in the hospital when it happened—all I had to do was pick up the phone.’

‘You’re not a doctor, then.’

Dante gave a slightly startled look. ‘Heavens, no. What on earth gave you that impression?’

‘I don’t know,’ Matilda shrugged. ‘You seemed to know your way around the hospital…’

‘I’ve spent rather too much time there,’ Dante said, and Matilda could only assume he was talking about Alex. But he revealed absolutely nothing, promptly diverting the subject from himself back to Hugh. ‘He’s resting at home now, but naturally he wasn’t well enough to come out. Hugh feels terrible to have let you down after you were kind enough to accommodate him at such short notice. I tried many times to contact you on your mobile…’

‘My phone isn’t on,’ Matilda said, flustered. ‘I never thought to check.’

Fool, Matilda raged to herself. He’d been frantically trying to cancel, to put her off, and because her blessed phone hadn’t been turned on, Dante had been forced to show up and babysit her when he hadn’t even wanted her to do the garden in the first place, when clearly he wanted to be at home with his daughter.

Taking a grateful sip of her drink, Matilda eyed the proffered menu, her face burning in uncomfortable embarrassment, utterly aware that here with her was the last place Dante either wanted or needed to be tonight.

‘I’ve agreed to the garden.’ Dante broke the difficult silence. ‘Hugh said that I had to see you to give my consent. Do I need to sign anything?’

‘It isn’t a child custody battle.’ Matilda looked up and for the first time since she’d joined him at the table actually managed to look him in the eye. ‘I don’t need your written consent or anything. I just wanted to be sure that you were happy for me to work on your garden.’

‘It’s not a problem,’ Dante said, which was a long way from happy.

‘I have brought along the plans for you to look at—I’ve highlighted the area Hugh discussed with you.’ Glancing up, Dante nodded to the waiter who had approached, giving him permission to speak.

‘Are you ready to order, sir?’

The waiter hovered as Dante turned to Matilda, but she shook her head.

‘Could you give us a minute?’ Dante asked and the waiter melted away. Clearly assuming she was out of her depth, he proceeded to walk her through the menu. ‘I will be having my usual gnocchi, but I hear that the Tasmanian salmon is excellent here—it’s wild—’

‘I’m sure it’s divine,’ Matilda interrupted. ‘I do know how to read a menu, Dante. And there’s really no need to go through the charade of a meal…’

‘Charade?’

Matilda resisted rolling her eyes.

‘The pretence,’ she explained, but Dante interrupted her.

‘I do know how to speak English, Matilda.’ He flashed her a tight smile. ‘Why do you call it a charade?’

‘Because we both know that you don’t want the garden, that you’ve probably only agreed because Hugh’s unwell…’ He opened his mouth to interrupt but Matilda spoke on. ‘You tried to contact me to cancel. I’m sorry, I never thought to check my phone. So why don’t I save up both an uncomfortable evening? We can drink up, I’ll take the plans and ring tomorrow to arrange a convenient time to come and look at your property. There’s really no need to make a meal out of it—if you’ll excuse the pun.’

‘The pun?’

‘The pun.’ Matilda bristled then rolled her eyes. ‘It’s a saying—let’s not make a meal out of things, as in let’s not make a big deal out of it, but given that we were about to have a meal…’

‘You made a pun.’

God, why was the English language so complicated at times?

‘I did.’ Matilda smiled brightly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

‘So you don’t want to eat?’

‘I don’t want to waste your time.’ Matilda swallowed hard, not sure whether to broach the subject that was undoubtedly on both their minds. ‘I saw you arrive…’ Taking a gulp of her drink, Matilda waited, waited for his face to colour a touch, for him to admit to the problem he had clearly faced by being here, but again Dante revealed nothing, just left her to stew a moment longer in a very uncomfortable silence. ‘Alex seemed very…upset; so I’m sure that dinner is the last thing you need tonight.’

‘Alex is often upset,’ Dante responded in a matter-of-fact voice, which did nothing to reassure her. ‘And given it is already after eight and I haven’t stopped all day, dinner is exactly what I need now.’ He snapped his fingers for the waiter and barked his short order. ‘My usual.’

‘Certainly, and, madam…?’

Matilda faltered, desperate to go yet wanting to stay all the same.

‘Madam?’ Dante smiled tightly, making her feel like one.

‘The salmon for me. Please,’ she added pointedly as the waiter took her menu. Then, remembering that as uncomfortable as she might feel, this was, in fact, a business dinner, Matilda attempted an apology. ‘I’m sorry if I was rude before,’ she said once the waiter had left. ‘It’s just I got the impression from Hugh that this meeting tonight was the last thing you wanted.’

‘Funny, that.’ Dante took a long sip of his drink before continuing, ‘I got the same impression from Hugh, too…’ He smiled at her obvious confusion.

‘Why would you think that?’ Matilda asked.

‘Hugh gave me strict orders not to upset you.’ He flashed a very bewitching grin and Matilda found herself smiling back, not so much in response to his smile, more at the mental picture of anyone giving this man strict orders about anything. ‘He told me that you were booked up months ahead, and that you’d agree to come in and do this job during your annual leave.’

‘Yes…’ Matilda admitted, ‘but—’

‘He also told me that you were doing this as a favour because he’d backed your tender, that you felt obliged—’

‘Not all obligations are bad,’ Matilda broke in, rather more forcibly this time. ‘I did agree to work on your garden during my holiday and, yes, I did feel a certain obligation to Hugh because of the faith he showed in my proposal for the hospital garden, but I can assure you that I was more than happy to do the work.’

‘Happy?’ Dante gave a disbelieving smile.

‘Yes, happy.’ Matilda nodded. ‘I happen to like my work, Dante. I just want to make sure that you’re fine with me being there.’

‘I’m fine with it.’ Dante gave a short nod.

‘Because Hugh’s sick?’

‘Does it really matter?’

Matilda thought for a moment before answering. ‘It does to me,’ she said finally. ‘And whether it’s ego or neurosis, I’d like to think that when I pour my heart and soul into a job at least my efforts will be appreciated. If you and your wife are only doing this to pacify Hugh, then you’re doing it for the wrong reasons. To make it effective, I’m going to need a lot of input as to your daughter’s likes and dislikes. It needs to be a reflection of her and I’d like to think that it’s going to be a place the whole family can enjoy.’