Mistresses: Passionate Revenge. Trish Morey

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СКАЧАТЬ for him to stay. But he sat there, leaning against the desk, thinking that he’d been wrong. She wasn’t pretty by any measure, she wasn’t tall and elegant like his usual choice of woman, but there was something about her, a fire in her eyes as she’d protested his closure of the hotel, something that had almost burned bright in the seedy air between them. Would she be as passionate in the bedroom, or would she go back to being the bedraggled mouse he’d seen lurking in the corridor?

      Damn! Trust Darius to leave him to clean up his rubbish. But he should have expected it.

      He rubbed the bridge of his nose, hating the way his thoughts were going. The woman had a point. He, more than anyone, knew what it was like to be left with nothing and without even a roof over his head. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

      He slid open his cell phone, found the direct number for the manager of the hotel the guests here were being transferred to and hit ‘call’. It answered within a moment. ‘It’s Andreas. Have you a position for another cleaner or kitchen hand? There is one here who requires a position, preferably live-in.’

      There was a moment’s hesitation, but no argument, no question as to qualifications or referees from the manager. That Andreas himself had enquired was all the assurance the manager required, the moment’s hesitation all the time he needed to make the necessary rearrangements. Of course, they could use the help, came the answer. And there would be a bed the person could use in a shared room.

      Andreas breathed deep with relief. When he’d thought of getting even with Darius, he’d thought they’d covered all the bases with everyone on the payroll. He’d not thought about any other fallout, the ones Darius had been paying on the sly. But now that fallout was well and truly taken care of. His father had been avenged and nobody had been inadvertently left homeless in the deal. It was the best of all worlds.

      He tried to recapture the joy, the exhilaration of the day’s events. After what he’d achieved after a lifetime of wanting, he should feel better than this, surely. But something still didn’t sit right with him. Maybe it was just the adrenaline let-down now that he’d achieved his goal?

      Or maybe it was because he wasn’t sure that he wanted someone else taking care of fallout that came complete with sweet curves and lush breasts?

      He sighed. He might as well go give her the good news. His car was waiting and he had work to do.

      She was already struggling out of her room with an oversized pack when he emerged and he wondered how she’d walk if ever she got it onto her back. It looked almost as big as her. He leaned down and took it from her, lifting its weight easily. Their fingers brushed and she pulled her hand away, tucking it under her other arm. ‘So you pack as quickly as you get changed?’

      She looked up at him, her cheeks flaring with colour again as he looked down at her, surprised by the extent of her reaction. Did she not want to touch him that desperately, or was it something else she was feeling? Resentment perhaps, or even hatred that he’d bowled her out into such a night. But she’d dragged on some kind of all-weather jacket and her breasts’ reaction was hidden from him. ‘Please, you don’t have to take that. Not after—all those things I said about you. It was very ungracious after you were so generous. I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.’

      ‘I found you a job.’

      Her eyes opened wide. ‘You did?’ They were blue, he realised for the first time, the kind of blue that came with the first rays of light on a misty Santorini morning showing all the promise of a new day. And then she smiled. ‘But that’s fantastic. Thank you so much. Is it a cleaner’s job at the other hotel? Can I stay there?’

      He’d never seen her smile. He got the impression she didn’t use it a lot around this place, but it was like switching on a light bulb and for a moment it switched off his thought processes. He coughed, his mind busy rewinding, rethinking. ‘The job comes with accommodation, yes.’

      ‘Oh, I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry for all those things I said back there. I really am.’ She reached into her back pocket and hauled out the stash of notes he’d given her, pressing them into his free hand. ‘Here. I can’t take this now. I won’t be needing your money.’

      A woman who wouldn’t take money when it had been given her? He didn’t know many women who wouldn’t be hanging around for more, not handing it back. So she worked as a cleaner—maybe she was better qualified than he’d assumed.

      A month.

      That was all he’d need. She wouldn’t be the kind of woman to expect to hang around. She wouldn’t want more than he was prepared to give.

       A month would work out just fine.

       Chapter Four

      ‘KEEP it,’ Andreas said, pushing her hand back, curling his fingers around it. ‘You’ll probably need some new clothes in your new job.’

      Cleo solemnly regarded the notes still curled in her palm, her hand small and warm in his. ‘Oh, you mean a new uniform.’

      ‘Something like that,’ he said, turning away quickly. ‘Come on, my car’s waiting outside, I’ll give you a lift.’

      He hauled her bag up the stairs as if it were a handbag and not stuffed full with all her worldly possessions and from there someone else took one look and relieved him of it, following in their wake, holding an umbrella over their heads as they emerged into the wet night. Who is this man, she wondered, to have his own people to fetch and carry and clean out an entire hotel at his say-so? A line of minibuses waited at the kerb outside, their exhaust turning to fog in the cold evening air. She recognised some of last night’s guests being bundled with their luggage into one of the vans.

      She started walking to the one behind. ‘No,’ he said. ‘This one’s ours.’

      She looked where he indicated and did a double take. He had to be kidding. The black limousine stretched for what looked an entire frontage if not the whole block! She swallowed. She’d never travelled in such a vehicle in her life. She flashed a look down at her outfit. Worn farm boots, denim jeans and an old Driza-Bone coat. She looked longingly at the line of minibuses. She’d feel much more comfortable in something like that.

      But the chauffeur had the door open, waiting. ‘Are you sure we’ll both fit?’ she asked, but her companion didn’t crack a smile, just gestured for her to precede him, and she had no choice but to enter the car.

      It was like being in another world as the vehicle slipped smoothly into the traffic. It was bigger than her bedroom in the hotel and she wouldn’t have been surprised to learn it boasted its own en suite. The plush leather seats were more like sofas with not a squeak of springs to be heard and they felt and smelled divine. A cocktail bar sprawled along one side, boasting spirits of every colour imaginable, a row of crystal-cut glasses held delicately in place, and then, just when she thought it couldn’t get more amazing, there were stars, or at least tiny coloured lights twinkling all over the ceiling. And even as she watched they changed from blues and greens to oranges and reds and back to blues again.

      And then there was him. He sprawled on the seat opposite, his back to the driver, one arm along the back of the seat, and with one leg bent, the other stretched long into the space between them. He’d undone his coat and the sides had fallen apart. Likewise the suit jacket underneath, exposing an expanse of snow-white cotton СКАЧАТЬ