Полная версия
The Rich Man's Reluctant Mistress
THE BOSS’S MISTRESS
Out of the office…and into his bed
These ruthless, powerful men are used to
having their own way at the office.
And with their mistresses,
they’re also boss in the bedroom!
Don’t miss any of our
fantastic stories this month:
The Italian Tycoon’s Mistress
by Cathy Williams #13
Ruthless Boss, Hired Wife
by Kate Hewitt #14
In the Tycoon’s Bed
by Kathryn Ross #15
The Rich Man’s Reluctant Mistress
by Margaret Mayo #16
Only in Harlequin Presents EXTRA!
MARGARET MAYO is a hopeless romantic who loves writing and falls in love with every one of her heroes. It was never her ambition to become an author, although she always loved reading—even to the extent of reading comics out loud to her twin brother when she was eight years old.
She was born in Staffordshire, England, and has lived in the same part of the country ever since. She left school to become a secretary, taking a break to have her two children, Adrian and Tina. Once they were at school, she started back to work and planned to further her career by becoming a bilingual secretary. Unfortunately, she couldn’t speak any languages other than her native English, so she began evening classes. It was at this time that she got the idea for a romantic short story. Margaret, and her mother before her, had always read Mills & Boon romances, and to actually be writing one excited her beyond measure. She forgot the languages, and now has more than seventy novels to her credit.
Before she became a successful author, Margaret was extremely shy and found it difficult to talk to strangers. For research purposes, she forced herself to speak to people from all walks of life, and now says her shyness has gone forever—to a certain degree. She is still happier pouring her thoughts out on paper.
THE RICH MAN’S RELUCTANT MISTRESS
MARGARET MAYO
TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON
AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG
STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID
PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
SMOKY blue eyes looked with shocked disbelief into delicate green ones. Seconds ticked away. Zane was the first to speak.
‘You!’ he exclaimed, his voice deep and gruff and entirely disbelieving, almost accusatory.
Lucinda nodded, slowly and deliberately. ‘Yes, it’s me, and I’m as surprised as you are.’
Except that surprised was far too mild a word. Even shocked wasn’t good enough. Stunned perhaps. And had she known who to expect she would never have come here today. Zane Alexander was not on her list of favourite people. Her experience working for him a few years ago had shown he was insensitive, uncaring and a whole host of other adjectives she could have put her mind to had she wanted. Except—that business was business.
‘What are you doing here?’ came the next curt question.
‘You sent for me.’ Her eyes were full of innocence. ‘I have an appointment.’
‘But—you’re a nanny!’
Lucinda allowed her lips to curve into a smile. Not that it held any pleasure. Her only pleasure was in seeing this man at a loss. ‘I was a nanny,’ she corrected. ‘And, by the way, how’s Tim?’
‘Very well,’ he responded.
‘And I only did it to fund myself while I was preparing to go into business,’ she explained.
Zane Alexander frowned. ‘But it couldn’t have been more than two years ago. Three at the most! How can you possibly be—’
‘Experienced?’ she suggested sweetly. ‘Believe me, Mr Alexander, I’m very experienced.’
Blue eyes narrowed and one brow crooked upwards. Although Lucinda knew what he was thinking she didn’t let it show. She kept a cool smile on her lips and a question in her eyes.
Zane Alexander’s brow dropped again until his eyes levelled on hers. ‘Show me your credentials.’
Lucinda reached out her portfolio and sat there quietly while he studied it. In turn she chose to study him. He was really quite a handsome man—it was a pity he didn’t have a handsome character to match. In the few weeks she had worked for him she had seen enough to recognise that he thought more of going out with one of his numerous lady friends than he did caring for his son.
He had medium blond hair that waved in gorgeous disarray. It was cut reasonably short in an effort to tame it but without much success. She bet it was the only thing in his life he couldn’t take control of.
His eyes were beautifully shaped and a dusky sort of blue, like smoke out of a chimney, with fair lashes and light eyebrows that matched his hair both in colour and disobedience. His mouth was full and wide and at this moment compressed. It was a very mobile mouth, though. She had seen it smiling and even laughing, as well as expressing the grimness he showed at this moment. It was a nice mouth, she admitted reluctantly.
‘I have to confess,’ he said now, waving the folder, ‘that this is very impressive. And you did come highly recommended.’
‘Is that a compliment?’ she asked, eyes wide and questioning.
‘Not at all!’ came the swift reply. ‘I’m not in the habit of handing out compliments to people I hardly know. But I can see that you’ll be capable of doing the job I want.’
‘And that would be?’ she asked. When his PA had phoned to make the appointment with her secretary, apart from saying that it was a prestigious interior design job for Mr Alexander of Revelation Holdings, no further details had been given. The name Alexander had meant nothing to her. She certainly hadn’t equated it with the Mr Alexander she had done the nannying job for and she was deeply curious as to why he had sent for her.
Nothing around here needed refurbishing. His office block was modern, immaculate and totally awe-inspiring. All the best quality materials had been used, the colours were muted and restful and the right accents added. And, from memory, his house was the same! Large and impressive and flawless.
Perhaps he was moving? Perhaps he’d bought a second home? Perhaps his business was expanding? There was no end of possibilities. She waited patiently for him to tell her.
It was rare for Zane Alexander to be taken by surprise, but today he had been literally swept off his feet when Lucinda Oliver had walked into his office. When he’d last seen her she had simply introduced herself as Lucy, and although she was a lovely looking girl he hadn’t thought about her since.
Today she looked far more grown-up, with her flaming Titian hair brushed back in some sort of fancy loop, revealing the fine bone structure of her face and her long elegant neck. Carefully made-up green eyes shone from a matt complexion, her nose was beautifully straight and her mouth held only the merest hint of lip-gloss.
He suddenly realised that she was waiting to hear about the job and he was forced to give his head a mental shake before he could take his eyes from her. He pressed a button on the console on his desk to draw the window blinds, then another to slide down a huge screen that took up most of one wall.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked.
A tiny nod of her head was all the response he got.
The first image appeared on the screen. ‘This is a property I’ve recently acquired,’ he announced. ‘I’ve had one or two alterations made to it but now I need someone to add the finishing touches. I’ve been told you’re the best.’
Lucinda lifted well-shaped brows. ‘I thank whoever said that, although personally I don’t think I have yet achieved such stardom, but I do pride myself on my work and I’ve already won an award, if that’s good enough for you. Where is this property?’ It was a sprawling one-storey building, set amongst palm trees and tropical blue skies. ‘Not in England, that’s for sure,’ she added.
‘You’re right. I wasn’t going to tell you until you’d seen the rest of the photographs, but since you’ve asked—it’s in St Lucia.’
‘The Caribbean?’ Her green eyes widened ever so slightly and he realised how beautiful they were—wide-spaced and long-lashed—and he wondered why he had never noticed them before. They were expressive eyes and at this moment they revealed an inner tension. She was clearly feeling apprehensive. Perhaps it was because of who he was? Perhaps she had never taken on a job out of England? Perhaps he was asking too much of her?
‘That’s right,’ he answered, watching her closely.
‘And you expect me to go all the way out there?’ An even deeper incredulity darkened her eyes.
‘All expenses paid, of course,’ he answered smoothly, smiling now at her expression. ‘I take it that you’re not accustomed to jetting around the world for the sake of your job?’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Would you object to it?’ He hoped not. He was enjoying her company and would like to see more of her. Lucy the nanny had done nothing for him. But Lucinda the interior designer was surely every man’s dream.
It was a hot day and she was dressed in ivory silk wide-legged trousers and a jacket that skimmed her waist. Around her neck hung a bronze three-tiered pendant which almost disappeared into her delectable cleavage. It was matched by bronze earrings and even her nails wore bronze polish.
She was elegance personified and nothing like the girl who had turned up at his house in blue jeans and a T-shirt. It alarmed him to realise that he would enjoy the pleasure of peeling the suit off her slow inch by slow inch and feasting his eyes on the sylphlike body beneath.
‘It all depends,’ she said with a faint grimace.
Zane berated himself. It was ridiculous to let his thoughts run in such a foolish direction. ‘On what?’ he asked briskly. ‘On how much I’d pay you?’
‘Amongst other things,’ she acknowledged, her eyes steady on his now, no sign of the tension he had seen earlier. ‘For instance, where would I be staying? Is the house habitable?’
‘Absolutely,’ he concurred, pleased to hear that she was considering his proposition. Perhaps she’d suddenly realised that she was on to a good thing.
‘And how long would I be away?’ she asked. ‘I’m not used to—’
‘Do you have family commitments?’ he interrupted sharply, glancing curiously at her left hand. He felt strangely relieved when he saw no ring, then asked himself why. So long as she could do the job, her personal affairs were inconsequential.
‘None at all,’ she answered. ‘You needn’t fear that there’s anything to get in the way of my work.’
‘No boyfriend who’d object to you being away for a few weeks?’ He watched her face closely. He was intrigued. In almost three years she had changed from a girl, a well-adjusted girl admittedly, to a sophisticated, confident woman whose rise up the ladder of success was truly remarkable.
Lucinda’s smile was wry. ‘No boyfriend.’
Was that regret he heard in her voice? Had there been someone recently? He wanted to know but it was too soon for such personal questions. And he had to ask himself why he was taking such an inordinate interest in her private life. Purely to safeguard his interests, of course! He didn’t want someone who couldn’t give one hundred per cent of her attention.
‘Then I think we should look at the rest of the photographs,’ he said quietly. ‘And tonight I’ll take you out to dinner so that we can discuss the project properly.’ He pushed back a cuff and glanced at his watch.
‘And what is wrong with discussing it now?’ asked Lucinda, hearing the crossness in her voice but ignoring it.
Brows rose disapprovingly. ‘Although you come highly recommended, I prefer to make my own judgement.’
Lucinda tossed her head, her eyes flashing crossly. ‘I thought you’d convinced yourself that I was good enough?’
‘And of course,’ he added, ignoring her question, ‘I need to make sure that you and I get on.’
His eyes connected with hers as he spoke and his meaning was very clear. Lucinda felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. Anger flared hot and fluid through her veins and her green eyes sparked fire. But when she spoke there was no hint in her voice that she knew what he had in mind.
‘You think that taking me out to dinner is the best way of doing it? I think not, Mr Alexander. Whatever needs to be discussed can be done right here and now. If that doesn’t suit you then perhaps I shouldn’t be here at all.’
She got up and headed for the door but Zane was there before her, moving remarkably quickly for such a tall man. She guessed he was about six-four—wide-shouldered and hard-muscled, as though he worked out several times a week.
His face was grim, brows pulled tightly together. ‘Hardly a professional attitude.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Lucinda glared and stood that little bit taller. Not that she was intimidated by him! She was five feet eight herself and equalled most men. ‘My attitude has nothing to do with it. It’s yours that’s in question,’ she parried accusingly. ‘Admit it, you were doubtful once you saw who I was.’ But it didn’t alter the fact that he had designs on her! She could tell that by the way he looked at her. Would he be accompanying her to St Lucia? Would they be sharing his house? Lucinda suddenly realised what a dangerous situation she could be getting herself into.
Broad shoulders shrugged. ‘Can you blame me?’ It was more a statement than a question.
‘So recommendations weren’t enough?’ Lord, she wanted to take a swipe at him, knock that superior expression off his face.
‘I like to make up my own mind.’
In more ways than one, she thought edgily. She’d had enough of this conversation and reached for the door handle.
‘Not so quickly,’ breathed Zane. ‘You’re here for a purpose. Please, allow me to finish the show.’ And, with complete disregard for her feelings, he steered her back into the room and pushed her unceremoniously on to the chair.
Lucinda’s blood boiled and she took several deep steadying breaths. Never in her life had she found a man more irritating than Zane Alexander. She didn’t trust him, so how could she work for him? She would be on tenterhooks the whole time. On the other hand, his business would be highly profitable. For that reason alone she would be foolish to turn him down.
She had no idea how lovely she looked with her face flaming almost as red as her hair and her eyes a more brilliant green than they’d ever been before. All she knew was that she was spitting mad and that this man was the cause.
‘We’re inside the house now and this is the living area.’
Zane’s voice interrupted her thoughts and she fixed her attention on the screen. The room was huge.
‘I’ve had two rooms knocked into one. I like to have plenty of space. And here we have the main bedroom.’
Oh, Lord, if she took this job she would be expected to dress this room. To suit him! Immediately she had a vision of steel and silver and ice-blue. Cold and hard and totally devoid of feeling! ‘Would you be accompanying me to St Lucia?’ she asked in a breathless voice.
‘Obviously.’
A shiver ran down her spine. ‘And we’d both be staying at the house?’
‘Of course,’ he answered and, without giving her time to object, he carried on with the show. ‘This is bedroom number two and, as you can see, they are both fully furnished. And here are numbers three and four, the main bathroom, the kitchen.’ He had realised she wasn’t listening and consequently rushed through the rest of the images. ‘What do you think?’
What did she think? That she didn’t want to be living there with him. ‘I think I’d prefer to stay in a hotel.’
Smoky blue eyes locked on to hers. ‘No deal!’ he announced shortly. ‘The house is remote; there’s no hotel for miles. It would be inconvenient for you to—’
‘Damn the convenience!’ she cried. ‘How about the propriety?’
A faint smile curved his mouth. ‘Who’s to know?’
Lucinda did not find it funny. ‘It’s unethical.’
‘You think I might take advantage of the situation?’
The hot colour in Lucinda’s cheeks gave her away. ‘Actually, yes.’
But she knew she had to trust him—although those wicked blue eyes didn’t invite trust. His lips quirked. ‘Perhaps it’s yourself you’re afraid of. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re very much aware of me.’
Lucinda’s eyes flashed and she ignored the hot streak through her veins. ‘Of all the conceited, overbearing men, you take the biscuit. You know exactly how I feel about you.’
‘The point is, do you know how you feel?’ he asked with quiet innuendo.
Lucinda closed her eyes. The argument was lost; she might as well give in gracefully. It would be foolish to turn down this dream job because of what might happen. If Zane decided to make advances on her, surely she was woman enough to deal with him?
Zane saw her weakening and took advantage. His smile was wide and confident. ‘So,’ he said, ‘is it dinner with me tonight or not?’
CHAPTER TWO
LUCINDA studied her wardrobe, wondering what to wear for her evening out with Zane Alexander. The red slinky number, or perhaps something more decorous? She didn’t want him getting the wrong impression. How about the amber suit? Or even the lime-green dress, which everyone else hated but she loved? It was certainly demure.
She had thought long and hard about accepting Zane’s dinner invitation but ultimately decided to put her personal issues about him to one side. This project was too good an opportunity to miss. Now, though, as she stepped into an elegant black dress, she wondered whether she was doing the right thing.
A job in St Lucia! It sounded too good to be true. Except that she would be out there with Zane, a man she didn’t particularly like. But whom she found devastatingly attractive! It was an admission she hated making—but it happened to be true. There really was something about him that could not be ignored.
Would he stay while she developed thoughts and ideas? Would he want to talk them over with her as she went along? Or would he simply show her around and then wait to hear what suggestions she came up with?
He was a very busy man, of that she was well aware. When she had looked after his two-year-old son, Zane had spent very little time at home. In fact Tim had rarely seen him. Zane was not a good father. On the other hand, perhaps because of Tim, he would not stay on the island the whole time she was there—unless, of course, he had business interests in St Lucia? It could well be the case.
They certainly had a lot to discuss.
And time was running out. Zane was picking her up at seven-thirty; he would expect her to be ready. She finished her make-up and ran a final brush through her hair. It was long and silky, almost to her waist, and her pride and joy. At the last minute, though, she decided to sweep it up. She didn’t want Zane Alexander thinking she looked anything less than professional.
She watched for him to arrive and was out of the door almost before he had stopped his car. Lucinda lived with her mother and stepfather in a large house where she had her own suite of offices. It didn’t really suit her and her bank balance was such these days that she was almost ready to buy a place of her own. In fact she’d been looking at property only the other day.
‘A lady who’s prompt,’ commented Zane with a dry smile, jumping out to open the door for her. ‘I like that. And may I say how elegant you look.’
Lucinda inclined her head in thanks. Zane looked pretty good himself in an oatmeal linen jacket and crisp dark trousers, and as he slid into the sleek silver Mercedes beside her the faint smell of his cologne wafted beneath her nostrils. It was masculine and woody and reminded her of nights spent on an exotic island paradise.
She suddenly realised where her mind was going and checked it. How would she know what it felt like? Was she thinking about the job that lay ahead? Was it wishful thinking? Never! Not with Zane Alexander. Not in a million years.
Besides, wasn’t he married? Not that there’d been a wife around. Maybe they were divorced. Maybe there wasn’t a Mrs Alexander any longer. Maybe she’d dumped the child on him on that occasion and, Zane being Zane, he hadn’t wanted to give up his precious time.
‘You must be doing rather well for yourself, judging by where you live,’ commented Zane as he pulled away from the house.
‘It’s not mine,’ she answered quickly. ‘It belongs to my stepfather. I’m moving out shortly.’
‘You’re not happy there?’ he asked intuitively.
Perhaps her tone had given too much away. But she didn’t get on well with David Goldberg. He had once told her that she hadn’t the imagination of a sparrow and would never enter the world of business. How she had loved proving him wrong. Her own father had died when she was fifteen and her mother had remarried far too quickly in Lucinda’s opinion. They’d gone from being very poor to very rich in a short space of time; not that she had accepted any help from her stepfather when setting up her design company.
‘I feel it’s time I have a place of my own,’ she answered quietly.
‘Of course.’
She had expected him to probe, to make some disparaging remark about her still living at home, but he didn’t.
‘How old are you?’ he asked instead.
‘Twenty-eight,’ she answered.
‘And running your own successful business. Congratulations.’
His compliment pleased her.
‘What is your ambition?’ He kept his eyes on the road in front where it looked like a young mother was ready to roll a pushchair out in front of them. ‘To have a team of workers under you so that you can sit back and count your pennies? Or to always be a hands-on person?’
Lucinda thought she heard sarcasm and tossed her head. ‘Ultimately I want to get married and have children. I love children; I used to earn money looking after them when I was a student.’
‘The nanny job?’
Lucinda nodded. ‘I could have made it a career but it would have been a waste of the design course I was taking. I’d always set my heart on interior design. Each job is different. It’s a new challenge. I love it.’
‘Then I shall very much look forward to showing you over my place in St Lucia.’
‘You’re assuming I’ll take the job?’ she questioned, glancing at him, seeing nothing but the hard contours of his profile. Until he turned briefly to look at her and she caught a twinkle in his smoky eyes.
‘I thought you already had,’ he said. ‘Otherwise why would you be here?’ And he looked back at the road.
There was nothing more for Lucinda to say. There was trepidation in her heart but a sense of excitement too.
The restaurant was small and intimate and not the sort of place where business deals were done. It had a more romantic atmosphere, where couples looked into each other’s eyes and drank champagne and wished for the moon. Lucinda felt uncomfortable, her heart beating far louder than it should.
‘Have you been here before?’ Zane asked.
Lucinda shook her head.
‘Then you should have,’ he admonished. ‘The food is superb and the head chef incidentally is a very good friend of mine.’
They sipped their drinks as they studied the menu and, while they were waiting to be seated, Zane made no attempt to talk business. Instead he asked her questions about herself, almost as though they were on a date. Which made her feel even more uncomfortable.
