The Once-a-Mistress Wife

“Why are you staring at me, Kane?”

“Because I love your smile.”

“My smile?”

He traced his finger down the side of her face, cupping her jaw and rubbing his thumb over her lips. “It’s the first thing I noticed about you that day in Harrods.”

“My mouth?” she asked, licking her lips, and he almost groaned out loud.

“Yes. Your lips are perfect for kissing.”

She flushed a little, nibbling on her lower lip. “Yours are, too.”

“Men don’t have kissable lips.” No one had ever said the things to him that Mary did. She didn’t fear his reputation and wasn’t intimidated by his wealth and family connections. She’d always treated him as though he were just another guy. And part of him liked the fact that with Mary he could simply be himself.

“Well, you do. Or maybe it’s that you really know what you’re about when you kiss me.”

Her lips parted and her warm breath brushed over his fingers. He leaned down to capture her lips with his. At the contact, she sighed his name, opening her mouth for him. He moved to cradle her head between both of his hands.

He took his time with the kiss, relearning the taste of her and reacquainting her with his taste. He swept his tongue languidly into her mouth, pulling her more firmly into his arms and into his embrace. This was where she belonged.

Kane had always had the ability to transport her from the real world into one where only the two of them existed. In that world she’d do whatever he asked of her and never count the cost. But she couldn’t afford to be that cavalier. Not now.

She pulled away from him, easily reading the signs of arousal in the man who’d been her first and only lover.

“Why did you pull away from me?”

“I can’t be seen engaging in public displays of affection.”

“That suits me. Let’s go back to my hotel and engage in private displays of affection.”

She shook her head. “Not today. I’m meeting with Grandfather’s lawyer at ten. Then I’m interviewing financial planners to find someone to help me establish my trust.”

“Who are you meeting with?”

“Someone from Merrill Lynch and someone from A.G. Edwards. I got their names from the phone book,” she said. Truth was, she wasn’t good with money and she didn’t have any idea how to make her dream into reality.

“Would you consider letting me help you?”

Kane was brilliant with investments. He’d carefully invested the money he’d given her during their years together and turned it into a small fortune. She had used that money to support herself before returning to Eastwick. “Do you want to?”

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise,” he said with a hint of a grin.

Her question had been inane. “You make it hard for me to think clearly.”

“That’s good to know.”

He stood, offering her his hand and tugging her to her feet. He linked their hands together and started leading her away from the shore, toward her home.

“Will you have breakfast with me?” he asked.

His thumb rubbed over the back of her knuckles, and tingles spread up her arm. Her nipples tightened in response to his touch and his mere proximity. She always reacted this way in his presence. If she had breakfast with him, she’d probably end up making love with him. “No.”

“Why not?” he asked, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it.

She pulled her hand from his grasp. “I’m not getting involved with you again, Kane. Maybe you shouldn’t help me with my inheritance.”

“Why not? I’m probably more qualified than some stranger you rang up on the telephone.”

“I think working with you will complicate things.”

“Things? I’m not sure I understand.”

She wanted to punch him in the arm. He frustrated her sometimes and she knew he was doing it deliberately right now. She took a deep breath, remembered that she always had to appear composed.

“I really don’t want to give Channing or Lorette a reason to take me to court.”

He took her shoulder, pulling her toward his body, wrapping one arm around her waist. He tipped her head back with his other hand, forcing her to look up at him. “I’m not taking no for an answer. I’m back in your life, and we’ll take it slowly if that’s what you want, but there is no way I’m leaving you again.”

“Kane…don’t say things like that to me.”

“I mean them.”

She couldn’t reconcile what he was saying to what he’d said when they’d parted. His words still lingered in her mind, the emotional wounds he’d inflicted only half-healed.

“No, you don’t. You told me that I was never anything more to you than a mistress, and I believed you. We don’t have a great love affair to rekindle. Ours was a business-minded relationship. You paid for my living expenses and I took care of your sexual needs. That was it.”

He cursed under his breath but didn’t let go of her. “It was never a business arrangement. Passion like ours can’t be contained in something so tame.”

Passion…one of her downfalls, if her grandfather was to be believed. Passion had a place only at her easel, where she channeled all of her rebelliousness into her art.

“Passion isn’t part of my life now, Kane. You’d do well to remember that. I’m not the woman you knew. I’ve changed and I can’t go back.”

“How many times am I going to have to pay for making you my mistress?” he asked, his accent more clipped than normal. He sounded every inch the aristocrat when he talked that way.

“It’s not about making you pay. Please, Kane, you have to leave. Go back home and forget about me.”

“You may have changed, but I haven’t. I’m still a very determined man. And you know I always get what I want.”

“Do you have any idea how arrogant you sound?”

“Yes.”

That startled a laugh out of her. Kane was still a mix of contradictions. A perfect gentleman in public and a total hedonist in private. She was so tempted to wrap herself around him and let him take her back to those carefree days in London. But she knew that she couldn’t.

Something her grandfather had said when she’d returned to Eastwick forbade that. He’d said it was time to grow up and stop running from her responsibilities. He’d reminded her she was the last Duvall. The only one to carry the mantle of her family’s legacy.

“Arrogance isn’t going to help you this time,” she said, walking away from Kane.

“Yes, it is. You need me to set up this foundation of yours. It’s the least I can do for an old friend.”

Friend. She didn’t know that they’d ever been friends. Friends shared things that she and Kane never had. They’d both played roles and lived in a world of their own making.

“Are you going to deny we were friends?” She heard the challenge in his voice.

“I’m not sure. But I will accept your offer of help. I know you’re good with investments and I need someone I can trust.”

Mary had a pounding headache after spending three hours in a conference room with her grandfather’s attorney, Max Previn, and Channing. Max was a kind, older gentleman who had tried to smooth over the animosity that Channing had brought into the room, but it had been next to impossible.

She’d explained her plans for her inheritance to the lawyer and he’d approved, with the caveat that she remember the stipulations of the will. If at any time she did anything scandalous, the money would be forfeit and she’d have to repay any amount she’d already spent. She’d put the stipulations from her mind long enough to finish the meeting and leave the office.

Mary’s car—a late-model Mercedes sedan—was parked at the curb, and she looked at that car feeling a new loathing for this life she’d been forced into. A part of her—the wild, crazy part—wanted to say the hell with it and walk away. She resented the restrictions and the instructions on how to behave that were being dictated from the grave.

But another bigger part of her mourned the baby she’d lost in childbirth, and she wanted to do what she could to ensure that no other woman ever had to live with that crushing feeling.

With her thoughts in such turmoil she couldn’t get in the car and go home yet. Instead, she walked along the sidewalk in front of a row of shops until she reached her friend Emma’s art gallery. Through the front window Mary could see Emma was with a customer, so she stayed outside. Featured in the display window was her latest print series—Paris. The series was composed of four different pieces that she’d simply titled for each of the seasons.

“Your work has really matured.”

She glanced up at Kane, surprised to see him here. He wore a black pullover and a pair of faded jeans. His hair hung rakishly over one eye and he looked way too good. The realization stung because she didn’t want to be attracted to him anymore.

“You think so? I still see room for improvement.”

“The artist is never satisfied,” he said, quoting back her own words.

Why did he remember so much of their time together? She certainly recalled those years in vivid detail, but that wasn’t surprising since she’d lived for him for so long. She’d almost refused when he’d offered to set her up as his mistress, uncomfortable with putting herself in that situation. In the end, however, the chance to be with Kane under any circumstances had stayed her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Waiting for you. I’m going to design a financial plan for your foundation, remember?”

“Of course I remember. I meant, how did you find me here?”

“I was eating lunch across the way and spotted you.”

“Oh. For a minute I thought you’d been stalking me.”

The droll look on his face made her feel just a little bit foolish. But her response to him underscored something for her. She realized, for her own sanity, she couldn’t allow Kane to get close enough to set up her foundation.

“I’ve changed my mind about accepting your help.”

“Why?”

“Channing is going to be watching me like a hawk, trying to find some kind of chink in my new behavior so that he and his family can inherit instead of me.”

“Darling, I’m the soul of discretion.”

That was true, he always had been. It was her reaction to Kane that worried her more than anything he would do. That and the secrets of their shared past—both the nature of their relationship and the truth she’d kept from him.

“You don’t understand. If they found out I was your mistress, I’d lose everything.”

“No one knows the truth except you and I,” he said quietly.

She turned away from the window as Emma finished up with her customer. She didn’t want her friend to see her with Kane in tow. She took a few steps away from the shop and he followed.

He put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close to him as he directed them across the street to a small park with a gazebo in the center. Underneath the shade of a large maple tree he stopped, leaning back against the trunk.

“I’m sorry, Mary.”

She was taken aback by his words. “For what?”

“For not doing things properly when we first met.”

She shook her head. She’d been over their relationship so many times and she knew that a big part of her had liked being Kane’s mistress. Had liked that her parents were outraged by it. She closed her eyes at how immature she’d been regardless of how sophisticated she’d felt.

“I think there’s plenty of blame to share,” she admitted.

He pulled her off balance and into his arms. Mary was very aware that this was her third public embrace with him and that Channing had actually witnessed the other two.

She pushed against his chest. “Let me go.”

“Not this time.”

A part of her wanted a relationship with Kane. What had started as a way to outrage her parents and to rebel had turned into love on her part. And she’d never forgotten Kane. But she wasn’t ready for the roller coaster of emotions being with him would entail. Especially now with so much at stake.

“I mean it. Let me go. If I’m seen like this, it will give them ammunition to use against me.”

“I’ll let you go on one condition.”

“And that is?”

“You let me work with you to establish the trust.”

“It would have to be strictly business. No more touching or kissing. I can’t risk it.”

“I can’t make any promises to not touch you. But I can assure you that I will do my utmost to make sure no one else witnesses it.”

“Then my answer will have to be no. Thanks, Kane.” She paused. “I know that this sounds weird, but it’s been really nice seeing you again.”

She turned to walk away, but his low voice stopped her in her tracks. “That’s not the answer I was looking for, Mary-Belle.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. He hadn’t moved from his relaxed pose against the tree. He looked every bit the brooding English lord she knew him to be.

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“You won’t for long. Since you’re so concerned about keeping me a secret…I’m going to blackmail you into accepting my help.”

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