The Millionaire's Mistress. Miranda Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ not operating with his usual efficiency. The appointment list had been in his hands for a full five minutes, yet he hadn’t been able to concentrate on the names. Hampton’s comment about his sex life—or lack of it—still rankled.

      How long had it been since he’d been to bed with a woman?

      Too damned long, came the testy realisation.

      Clenching his teeth, Marcus dragged his attention back to the paper in his hands, his eyes widening, then narrowing when he spied the first name on the list.

      Hampton’s ten o’clock appointment—his first for the day—was none other than Miss Justine Montgomery!

      Marcus’s surprise was only exceeded by his curiosity. What on earth was the wealthy Miss Montgomery doing coming to his bank for a loan? She must know they specialised in business loans. What use would she have for such a loan?

      Did she fancy herself going into some small business to pass her idle hours away till she landed herself a rich husband? An art gallery perhaps? Or a fashion boutique? A trendy coffee shop?

      Marcus could only guess. There was one way of finding out for certain, he supposed. Take the appointment himself and ask.

      The thought of seeing Miss Montgomery again—and in a position where he had the upper hand—held an insidious attraction. Marcus began to appreciate what Hampton had found so appealing about his job. To have a woman—especially an incredibly beautiful young woman—beholden to you. To have it in your power to give her something she wanted in exchange for something you wanted...

      Marcus’s pulse rate quickened as he contemplated such a corrupting scenario. Justine Montgomery had lived on in his memory since that warm November night two months before, when he’d surreptitiously watched her almost naked body emerge from that pool. He still recalled every inch of her physical perfection, from her impossibly long legs to her tight little bottom to her lushly nubile breasts.

      How would you like to go to bed with her? the devil whispered in his ear.

      He stood up abruptly, took a fob watch from a pocket in his waistcoat and checked the time. Five to ten. He had two options. He could have Miss Montgomery’s appointment rescheduled to a later date with another loans officer. Or he could go downstairs to Loans and see her himself.

      His experience-honed instinct for avoiding trouble warned him to have her rescheduled, but when he glanced up and glimpsed his reflection in the wide semicircular window which wrapped around behind his desk, Hampton’s insults once again jumped into his mind.

      He glared hard at the man glaring back, the pompously dressed stuffed shirt who believed combining business with pleasure was a crime...

      His reflection faded from his conscious mind as another vision took over, that of Justine Montgomery’s lovely yet startled face as he laid out the terms for her getting a loan. His mouth dried as he imagined the moment when he first drew her into his arms. He could actually feel her initial reluctance, feel the fluttering of her heart against his chest.

      Till he kissed her.

      After that there was no more resistance, only the most delicious surrender as she melted against him...

      Marcus gritted his teeth as the painful hardening in his trousers brought him back to reality. He knew he would never do such a disgusting thing as blackmail her into his bed. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it. There was something darkly compelling about the idea of having Justine Montgomery in his sexual power.

      Common sense and professionalism demanded he steer well clear of the girl, now that his carnal desires were engaged.

      But both were poor arguments against the excitement which beckoned just one floor down.

      Not that he was going to try to coerce or corrupt the girl, Marcus reassured himself as he stuffed the fob watch back into its pocket and strode from the room. Nothing—not even the most desirable female in the world—would induce him to stoop to such low behaviour.

      The possibility that the incredibly desirable Justine Montgomery might try to coerce or corrupt him had yet to occur to Marcus Osborne.

      Justine glanced at her watch as she stepped from the lift. Five to ten.

      Scooping in a steadying breath, she straightened her shoulders and walked with her head held high to the large reception desk straight ahead. Not normally a nervous girl, she had to admit to wild flutterings in her stomach that morning. It would have been so easy to turn and flee. But fleeing was out of the question. Anyone with a brain in their heads could see her mother might have another breakdown if she lost her home on top of everything else. Justine had listened to the poor love cry herself to sleep last night, the awful sounds reaffirming her determination to get this darned loan if it was the last thing she did.

      The pretty brunette behind the desk stopped tapping on her PC and glanced up as Justine approached.

      ‘May I help you?’ she asked politely.

      ‘I’m Justine Montgomery. I have a ten o’clock appointment with Mr Hampton.’

      ‘Oh, yes, Miss Montgomery. Wade’s away from his desk at the moment, but I know he’s somewhere in the building. I’m sure he’ll be with you in a moment. I’ll take you along to his office and you can wait for him there.’

      Mr Hampton’s office was minute, more of a walled cubicle than a real office. Justine settled herself in the single chair which faced the less than impressive desk to await the loans officer’s arrival. She recrossed her legs several times, none of the positions finding favour. Her long stockingless legs still felt awfully overexposed. She tried sitting with her knees pressed primly together but knew that looked ridiculous.

      Steeling her nerves, she dropped the handbag she’d been clutching in her lap down by the legs of the chair and crossed her legs one last time, steadfastly ignoring the way the skirt rode up dangerously high. Another glance at her watch told her it was one minute past ten.

      Two minutes later, she heard firm footsteps coming down the tiled corridor. She twisted her head round just as a man strode in and closed the door behind him.

      Justine blinked, trying not to look as taken aback as she was. But surely this couldn’t be Wade Hampton!

      For starters, Justine had been expecting someone much younger, not a man in his mid-thirties! Trudy’s taste in men usually ran to the toy-boy type, with pretty-boy looks, longish hair and wickedly dancing eyes, trendy dressers who smiled at the drop of a hat and oozed a type of cheeky sex appeal.

      Justine could not help but stare as this man stalked into the room, his face seemingly set in concrete. No smile of greeting softened that hard mouth, or those deeply set black eyes.

      Admittedly he was a handsome devil, with a strikingly sculptured face, a sensually shaped mouth and deeply set dark eyes which sent shivers down her spine. But that black pin-striped suit, though impressively tailored, was anything but trendy, and his ruthlessly cut black hair was plastered back like Michael Douglas in that movie Wall Street.

      He looked about as warm and as approachable as a Kremlin advisor on nuclear waste, hardly the type to be susceptible to flirting or flattery, or a short, tight lime-green dress!

      ‘Good morning, Miss Montgomery,’ he said brusquely, his handsome face coldly unreadable. ‘Sorry to keep you СКАЧАТЬ