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Mistress & a Million Dollars / Satin & A Scandalous Affair: Mistress & a Million Dollars
He slipped out of bed and reached for his checkbook, wrote out the million-dollar check and put it on the pillow he’d just vacated. Then he left Sleeping Beauty in the bedroom, closing the door behind him to go into the main suite to make a phone call. Soon he’d head home to shower and change before his meeting.
But as he hung up the phone, he heard a noise in the bedroom. He strode over and opened the door, but she must not have heard him. She was sitting up in bed, having wrapped the sheet around herself. In her hands was the check and she was looking down at it as if she was defeated rather than pleased.
Something twisted inside his gut, reminding him that there was more to this than met the eye. “Isn’t that what you wanted, Briana?”
Her head shot up, her wide-eyed beauty latching on to him. “I thought you’d left,” she accused, heat rushing into her cheeks.
Her reaction wasn’t what he’d expected from such a woman of the world. For a moment she almost looked…guileless.
“You mean, you were hoping I’d left,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb, fascinated by every aspect of her. What was going on in that mind of hers?
She angled a chin that was more defiant than delicate right now. “So you don’t feel you got value for the money, Jarrod?”
“You know I did. And it’s not over yet. We have three weeks of—getting to know each other.”
Her lips briefly stretched in a fake smile, then not. “How nice.”
“Yes, just like your ‘nice’ experience last night,” he drawled, reminding her of her words last night down in the casino lounge. Nice didn’t describe the half of it. “At least, I assume it was as ‘nice’ for you as it was for me.”
“Searching for compliments, Jarrod?”
All at once he’d had enough. As much as he liked verbally sparring with her, he had other things to do this morning. “What do you have planned for the rest of the long-weekend?”
She blinked, then wariness clouded her eyes. “Why?”
“I want you to spend it with me.”
“So soon?” she said with obvious dismay.
His mouth twisted. “Your enthusiasm is refreshing. Is that a problem?”
She took a ragged breath. “I guess not.”
His mouth flattened in a grim line. Anyone would think he’d asked her to give up all her earthly possessions. “Do you have any further engagements this weekend?”
She shook her head. “No, just some things to do in the lead-up to the Grand Prix next weekend.”
Yes, the papers were already advertising her attendance at the Melbourne Grand Prix. “Look, I’ve got an appointment with a client, but I’ll be back in a couple of hours to take you to lunch. And tomorrow we can go to the Moomba Festival together.”
“Oh, but—”
“I’ve asked them to send you up some new clothes to gad about in now,” he said, preempting her.
Anger flared in her eyes. “I don’t want a new set of clothes to gad about in.”
“Then wear none,” he mocked.
Her mouth thinned. “I prefer my own clothes, thank you.”
He glanced at his watch then back at her. Time was running out. “Just relax, order some breakfast and take another nap. You didn’t get much sleep last night. I’ll be back at noon.”
“And if I don’t want to spend any more time with you?”
“Then I’ll know you’re not a woman of your word.” He turned and walked out of the hotel room.
Four
After Jarrod left the suite, Briana wasn’t sure how long she sat in the king-size bed, cursing him, cursing herself for being attracted to such a man. He’d made love to her last night as if she’d been meant to be in his arms all along. He’d made her feel special and complete, taken her to heights she’d never imagined. She could still feel the remnants of his; her breasts were still tender from his touch, her mouth still swollen from his kisses, her lower body still sensitive from his possession.
And she had been possessed, there was no doubt about it. Possessed by him. Possessed by her desire for him.
The latter had been a shock.
She couldn’t remember even coming close to this with Patrick. No, Patrick had taken what he’d wanted, when he’d wanted in bed, but had never really given her the same fulfillment. Because she’d been in love with him, she hadn’t let herself think about it. Her love had covered up a multitude of his flaws…until her rose-colored glasses had been well and truly ripped off her.
And now Jarrod Hammond was making her feel special again, not because she’d fallen in love with him, but because he treated her as the woman he wanted.
She didn’t fool herself that it was more than sex—for either of them. He’d wanted to possess her body and he had. She’d wanted him to make love to her, and that was the reason she was feeling fulfilled. Nothing more. It was only about sex. Good sex, admittedly.
All paid for and delivered, she reminded herself, making a half-choked sound as she looked down at the check in her hands. She still couldn’t believe she’d given her body to a man for a million dollars. Her father would be horrified. She was horrified.
Yet, to be honest, Jarrod hadn’t made her feel as if she’d sold her body to him. And that was totally crazy. Any other man would have made her feel cheap.
What was she going to tell her father about the money she’d suddenly acquired? She’d found it lying around in an old bank account? No, too far-fetched. Only Howard Blackstone had kept money in old, “secret” accounts, she mused cynically.
Then the answer came to her. The check was one of Jarrod’s, so she would tell her father she’d asked Jarrod for a loan to buy more property. Yes, that was it! Her father probably wouldn’t think anything out of the ordinary, not with Jarrod being a Hammond, and with Marise being married to Jarrod’s brother.
Of course, loan or not, she still had to pay the money back. She just hoped to high heaven that Blackstone Diamonds wanted to continue their contract with her.
And if she couldn’t pay it back? No, she wouldn’t think about being beholden to Jarrod any longer than necessary. As it was, he had started to boss her around already, telling her to stay in bed and take a nap, buying her clothes, telling her to wait in the room until he got back, expecting she’d go to lunch with him.
Did that mean he expected her to do everything he asked? Would he expect her to be at his beck and call for the next three weeks?
She was no man’s plaything. Not even for a million dollars, she told herself as she pushed aside a sense of trepidation and asked herself what to do next. Oh, she’d keep her word to spend the next three weeks with him, and she’d no doubt enjoy some of it. But she wasn’t about to wait around this hotel room for him to return. If he wanted to take her to lunch, then she’d leave him a note and go home to her apartment until he called. She certainly wasn’t chasing him. If necessary, she’d meet him at the restaurant.
And she would still be a woman of her word, she decided, throwing back the sheet and pushing her naked body out of bed.
Of course, as soon as her doorbell buzzed, Briana knew who it would be. Despite having a doorman who was harder to get past than a crocodile, somehow Jarrod had managed it.
And now he stood there, looking like a man should look—handsome, confident, charismatic—sending her pulse racing into overdrive. She had no idea how much she’d been wanting to see him until this moment. Correction, how much her body had wanted to see him.
“You left your new clothes behind,” he drawled, empty-handed.
“I don’t need you to buy me clothes,” she said coolly as she turned into her apartment, only to find herself twirled back toward him.
Without warning, he kissed her. For heart-stopping seconds she tried to hold something of herself back, but he deepened the kiss. When a faint groan escaped from his throat, she slid into meltdown. Her lips parted.
Just as suddenly he let her go. “Not so cool, eh?” he murmured.
She forced her head to clear. “Talking about yourself?” she challenged.
“Talking about both of us.”
The nerves in her stomach tightened and she quickly turned into the living room. “How much did you pay the doorman to let you in?”
“He happens to be the father of a friend.”
She picked up her purse from the sofa and shot him a look of disbelief. “My, that’s quite a coincidence.”
He held her gaze. “Yes, it is.”
She realized he was serious. Either way, she needed to have some discreet words with the doorman.
“Don’t try and get him fired,” Jarrod warned.
“Who said anything about getting him fired?” she said in astonishment.
“Oh, I don’t know. There’s a certain look of revenge in your eyes.”
A smirk coated her lips. “That isn’t for the doorman.”
He gave a husky chuckle, taking her unawares. She wished he’d stop doing that. It was one thing knowing he was enigmatic, quite another to see his more human side. It was best she keep her distance.
She mentally straightened her shoulders. “I’m ready.”
His gaze traveled down over her outfit. “I can see why you prefer your own clothes.”
She glanced down at her sleeveless, slimline knit dress in vivid marigold, the material lightly rouched at the waist and harmonizing with her hips. It was sexy and flattering and she felt good in it, especially when she combined it with delicate high-heeled sandals in the same color. And heavens, she needed every bit of confidence she could find right now.
She looked back up at Jarrod. “Actually this was a gift from someone.”
A cynical look entered his eyes. “A male, no doubt?”
Ah, so they were back to that again. He thought she had conned every man she’d ever met out of something or other.
“Who else?” she retorted, walking toward him. One of the designers had given it to her after a fashion shoot, but she’d let Jarrod think what he liked. It’s what he wanted to think anyway.
Yet he frowned as she preceded him out of the apartment, and he was still frowning when she closed her door behind them. She hid a small burst of satisfaction. Good. Let him be the unsettled one for a change, even if she had no idea why. It would be too much to ask that he might think he was actually wrong about her.
Her inner poise restored, she headed toward the elevator. “Where are we having lunch?”
“Southbank.”
She inclined her head. “Lovely.” Lunch at a riverside restaurant would at least surround them with a multitude of people and would take an hour or two out of their day. She dare not think beyond that.
Only, once he’d parked his BMW Coupe in an underground car park in the city center and they rode up the elevator, she realized he was taking her to one of the top hotel restaurants, rather than one of the many places alongside the Yarra River.
Pity it wasn’t as crowded as she wanted, she mused as the waiter walked them through luxurious surroundings and seated them at a table for two overlooking the river.
The picturesque city views beyond the glass gave a feeling of spaciousness that would have been delightful if she’d been with anyone else. In Jarrod’s company, not even watching the slow-moving riverboats and the strolling couples along the promenade below could put her at ease. The world was still out there but it was hard to notice when she was seated intimately with a man who was now her lover and who intended to remain her lover for three more weeks.
“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair once the waiter had departed after taking their order, “tell me about Briana Davenport.”
“Read my bio,” she quipped, leaning back in her chair, too, pretending to be relaxed.
A corner of his mouth twitched upward. “I want to know about Briana Davenport, the person. Not Briana, the model.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Same thing.”
“No, different.” He tilted his head, considering her with a slight frown. “I’m just not sure how yet.”
“Don’t tax yourself thinking about it.”
His eyes suddenly narrowed. “So you think I’m only interested in you for your looks?”
She kept her gaze steady. “You mean you aren’t?”
A muscle tightened at the edge of his jaw. “No.”
Oddly enough, she believed him. But it probably wasn’t a good thing to delve too deeply. It would mean having to consider why he was sleeping with her.
“It’s a bit late asking me about myself, don’t you think?”
He offered her a smile. “I knew enough to sleep with you.”
“Hey, don’t say that too loud,” she whispered, straightening and looking around but seeing there was no danger of anyone’s hearing. Thank goodness, she thought, her gaze returning to Jarrod’s.
A smile reached his eyes, then was banked. “Okay, let’s start again. What do I know about Briana Davenport?” He gave her a silent appraisal. “Hmm. You don’t snore.”
“I’m pleased.”
“You like to snuggle up against a man.”
“A natural reaction.”
“And you like to be kissed all over.”
“Shhh,” she hissed.
“It’s all true.”
“So is the million dollars.”
The amusement left his eyes and his gaze hardened, but just as quickly he arched a brow at her. “You don’t want to know about me?”
She looked at him long and hard. “I know all there is to know.”
“Really?”
She assumed a thoughtful expression. “You have no hesitation in taking what you want.”
“True.”
“You’ll go to any means to get it.”
“True.”
“You’re suspicious of beautiful women.”
“True.”
“Oh, I forgot. They have to be beautiful and greedy.”
“Now you’re getting there,” he said in a dry tone, just as the waiter brought over their first course.
But Jarrod didn’t seem fazed by her comment, and after that they ate in silence for a while. She used the time to recover from the constant barrage of awareness Jarrod’s presence caused. In her job she was used to being constantly “on,” but this was different. Being with Jarrod was being turned on.
They had just finished their appetizer when the waiter brought over a bottle of wine.
Jarrod frowned. “I didn’t order this.”
“No, sir, you didn’t. It’s compliments of the gentleman over there.” The waiter’s gaze went across the room to the gray-haired man sitting at a small table by himself, watching them. “For Briana,” the waiter added as the older man raised his glass at her.
“Send it back,” Jarrod snapped.
“No!” Briana exclaimed, horrified. She speared Jarrod a dark look then smiled at the waiter. “Please pour me a glass,” she told him as she got to her feet. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
“Briana,” Jarrod said through gritted teeth.
“Pour him one, too,” she instructed the waiter, turning away but not before she saw the glint of humor in the waiter’s eyes.
Laughter bubbling within her, her steps were light as she walked across the room with a natural smile on her lips. She couldn’t help but feel good that she was winning this battle against Jarrod.
Then she thanked the older man and spent a few minutes talking to him. He turned out to be a fan of hers and was a thorough gentleman.
When she returned to the table, Jarrod’s eyes burned through her. “Made an arrangement to meet later?” he snarled.
She shot him a dark glance. This was going too far. “No, but I can go back and ask him, if you like.”
“How much did he offer you? One million or two?”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Isn’t that why you went to thank him?”
He sounded jealous, and the thought sent a weird thrill through her. Then she realized this wasn’t about jealousy. This was about belonging to Jarrod Hammond, as temporary as that was.
“He was just being nice,” she said firmly. “He’s a gentleman.”
“He wants to take you to bed.”
“So does most of the male population, I imagine, including yourself.”
A second ticked by, and a smug look crossed his face. “Ah, but I did, you see,” he drawled, his voice silky-smooth now.
Her mouth tightened. “I hope you marked it on that belt of yours with all those other notches.”
Sexy amusement flickered in his eyes. “You know something, Briana? I really like fighting with you.”
She ignored that, even as she privately acknowledged enjoying a verbal victory with this man every now and then. “By the way, it’s part of my job as the face of Blackstone’s to maintain good public relations. I wouldn’t want to offend him.”
“As long as they are only public relations.”
“If they weren’t, it’s none of your business.”
“Don’t bet on it, sweetheart.”
So, she’d been right to be worried about his thinking he could boss her about. Her chin tilted in defiance. “You don’t own me, despite the million-dollar check.”
His eyes grew cool. “No, but I do own three weeks of your time. And don’t forget you’re the one who suggested the million dollars. And you’re the one who took the money. I would have just been happy to go to bed with you.”
“Yes, and I’m the one who’ll pay the price,” she said, suddenly feeling sickened by it all. “I think I’d like to leave.”
Jarrod’s gaze swung across the room. “Won’t your number-one fan over there be offended if you don’t drink his wine?”
“Oh, you’re so right.” She picked up the glass and drank it in one go. Thankfully it was only half-full. “There.” She put her empty glass back down on the table.
Jarrod’s brow rose. “You can handle drinking it that fast, I presume?”
“It was only half a glass.” She went to get to her feet but all at once he leaned across the table and put his hand over hers, his touch heating her skin.
“Unless you want our little tiff in tomorrow’s papers, you’d better stay here and finish your lunch.”
Her forehead creased. “What do you—”
“Here we are, madam,” the waiter said, startling her as he slid a plate on the table in front of her. Not that she had much of an appetite by this time. Jarrod seemed to rob her of that once again.
The waiter walked around to Jarrod and did the same. “If there’s anything else you would like—”
“No,” Jarrod cut across him. “We’re fine.”
“Very good, sir.” The younger man left them alone.
Jarrod waited a moment before speaking. “I saw your fan talking to some guests at the table over there. They’ve been checking us out, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he said something about the bottle of wine. If you get up and storm out it’ll be in tomorrow’s paper.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have acted like a jealous husband, then,” she said without thinking.
He actually looked surprised. “Is that what I sounded like?”
“Either that or a jerk,” she said as the rush of wine made her feel a little light-headed.
He grinned. “I think that wine’s gone straight to your head.”
“No.”
“Yes,” he insisted.
“Okay, just a little,” she acknowledged, finding it easier to give in this time. “But I’m used to it.”
“Really?” he mocked.
“I don’t have a drinking problem, if that’s what you’re implying.” But somehow she couldn’t seem to summon up much anger. She was beginning to feel relaxed and mellow. And, oh my, Jarrod Hammond really was a hunk. And that slow smile…combined with his expert hands…
“I think we’d better finish lunch,” he said, breaking into her thoughts, “then I’ll take you home.”
Would he make love to her?
“Come on, eat. It’ll soak up some of that wine. The media would have a field day if they heard the face of Blackstone’s was drunk off her face.”
That brought her out of her trance. He was right. It could jeopardize her contract renewal. And then she wouldn’t have the money to repay Jarrod….
She took a steadying breath, picked up her fork and started eating. Not long after, Jarrod began speaking of general things and she was glad to answer. Polite conversation she was used to. Personal, she was not.
She refused dessert but as they drank their coffee, he sat there looking at her. “How do you feel now?”
“Back to normal. The food helped.”
“Good.” His eyes took on a sudden sensual warmth that made her heart start hammering. “Now that you’re no longer tipsy, I’m going to take you back to my apartment.”
Her mouth turned dry. “Why?”
“I want to make love to you. I want you in my bed. Today. Tonight. Right now.”
She gave a soft gasp. “Don’t say things like that, Jarrod.”
“Does it offend you?”
Unfortunately, no.
“It…unsettles me,” she admitted, not knowing why she was even admitting that to him.
His gaze took on a piercing look. “I thought you’d be used to men saying they wanted you in their bed.”
“Then you’d be wrong.”
He gave her a sharp look, as if he had trouble believing that. Then he signaled to the waiter to bring over the check, and before too long they were walking back through the restaurant, through the diminishing crowd of people. The older gentleman had gone, and so had the other people, and that made her wonder if Jarrod had just made that up to keep her here.
But why keep her here when he wanted to take her to his home and make love to her?
And he proved that point as soon as they stepped inside his downtown apartment. She had a glimpse of luxurious surroundings before he swept her up in his arms and carried her into his bedroom.
“I almost hate to take this dress off you,” he said in a gravelly voice, slipping it over her head anyway. “It’s so very sexy.” His gaze slid down over her bra and panties. “You’re very sexy.”
And then he pulled her toward him and his lips found hers, his kiss flooding her with want and need and must haves. Before too long she was aware of a mattress giving way beneath her, of his hands cupping her breasts, touching her secret parts. Then he entered her in one swift movement. When he started to move inside her, hard muscle against soft satin, desire exploded inside her. Finally…finally…he consumed her.
It was dark when she woke and she had to gather her bearings. Her job took her all over the place, so she was used to waking up in strange beds. Alone.
“It’s eight-fifteen,” a deep male voice rumbled in her ear.
Jarrod!
“At night?” She should move, instead of lying there in the curve of his shoulder, her face pressed against his warm skin.
“I suppose we could be having an eclipse,” he joked in a husky voice, his sense of humor surprising her. It wasn’t something that came to mind with this man.
She stayed where she was. She couldn’t seem to find the energy to move. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I’ve been asleep, too. Neither of us got much sleep last night, remember?”
Everything came flooding back. The casino. The million dollars. Being possessed by this man.
Suddenly panicked, she lifted her head. “I’d better get back to my apartment.”
“Why?”
She looked up at him in the dim light, trying to focus, trying to think, but it was hard when “God’s gift to women” was beneath her. “Um—so I can go to—”
“Bed? You’re already in bed. With me.”
She moistened her lips. “I need to shower and get something to eat.”
“No problem. I’ll order in pizza. We’ll sit on the balcony and watch the Moomba fireworks light up the sky.” All at once, he put her away from him and rolled out of bed. Naked. And then he pulled her up on her feet. Naked.
“What are you doing?”
He bent and scooped her up in his arms. Naked. “We’re going to take a shower first.”
“Together?”
His brow rose as he carried her into the bathroom. “You have a problem with that?” he said, his blue eyes sure she wouldn’t object.
And for once she didn’t. “No.”
He gave her a look of mild surprise. “Sweet acquiescence?”
She nodded. “Maybe.”
His eyes dropped to her mouth. “I think I like it.”