Mistress & a Million Dollars / Satin & A Scandalous Affair: Mistress & a Million Dollars. Jan Colley

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      And then he stopped kissing her, and his eyes captured hers with a look that was undeniably male. It was a triumphant look that said he was here, he had conquered and now he would take.

      She thrilled to the silent communication, allowing him his moment of masculinity. And then he began to move his body inside her with long, slow strokes that had her own body raising to meet him with a feminine power of her own. Together they built pleasure upon pleasure, until slow was no longer enough, and fast and deep became a necessity, an essential part of their lovemaking. Of them.

      And together they came as one.

      If any woman in the world had been worth a million dollars, it was the woman next to him, Jarrod reflected the next morning as he lay facing Briana sleeping on the pillow next to him. They’d made love three times throughout the night. Three times and he still hadn’t had enough of her.

      She was dazzling, this golden glamour girl with her velvet eyelashes fanning her smooth cheeks, and her blond hair tousled so sexily over her naked shoulders. The sweet scent of her gorgeous body drifted up beneath the sheet and reeled him in, making the blood pulse in his temples, rush through his body.

      Suddenly he wanted her a fourth time.

      And a fifth.

      And he would have her, too.

      Just not right now, he thought regretfully as he glanced at the clock and saw the time. Dammit. He had a meeting with a client in an hour. A very important one, or he would cancel it. But the guy was going overseas later today, and needed a Sunday morning appointment.

      Sighing with regret, he slid his hand off Briana’s slim hip. It was probably for the best anyway. Despite his body’s urges, he needed a moment to himself. Why, he wasn’t sure, except that having Briana in his arms had been fulfilling in a way he’d never felt before. And that just didn’t make sense. Why did he have to feel this way about a woman beautiful enough and sexy enough to eat?

      Yet it was more than a physical sexiness. It was something in her. Something that drew him to her. Drew many men, no doubt, he thought as cynicism gnawed at his gut. How many lovers had seen her like this? Probably too many to count. She may have put on an act about accepting the money, but she’d still accepted his offer.

      She was definitely a gold-digger, even if something wasn’t quite right here. His lawyer’s instincts told him there was more to her taking the money than she was letting on. But what?

      His dark brows knitted together. Perhaps he just wanted to believe she had a motive that wasn’t attached to the money. More fool him. In his experience, beautiful women couldn’t be trusted. They’d always wanted something, always had an angle. The only exception was his adopted mother, Katherine Hammond. She was lovely inside and out.

      But his birth mother, an ice-cold beauty whose looks had started to wear thin, was out for all she could get. She’d given him up for adoption to remain footloose and fancy-free. She’d told him so the first time she’d come looking for a handout. The times he’d seen her since hadn’t changed his mind.

      She and Briana would get on well.

      Or would they, he wondered, his eyes resting on Briana, her sheer beauty making him doubt himself. But he had to remember she was the sister of his dead sister-in-law. She and Marise were the same breed of women. Out for all they could get. Marise had proved it with his brother. Briana had just proven it with him.

      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.”

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