Memoirs of a Millionaire's Mistress. Anne Oliver

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      Her eyes flashed with defiance. ‘You have a better suggestion?’

      You could sleep in my bed. The associating image smoked through his brain. Her spiky hair tickling his nose as she stretched out on top of him, eyes closed in pleasure. Fingers intertwined and above his head, breasts to chest, thigh to thigh…

      He wasn’t sure how, but he had the feeling she knew exactly where his wayward thoughts were going. He spoke stiffly through a clenched jaw. ‘I’ll book you a room for the evening until we work something out tomorrow.’

      Her response was an instant, ‘No.’

      ‘Didi, it’s too late to do anything else tonight—’

      ‘I mean…I can’t go to a hotel.’

      ‘Why ever not?’

      Her gaze dropped to a cardboard carton on the step beside her. He’d not noticed earlier, but now it drew his attention because some sort of scratching noise emanated from within.

      ‘I rescued a cat on the way here. I’d never get it past the desk, and I need a litter tray and some food.’ Her eyes met his. ‘And don’t suggest I take him to a shelter because I won’t do it.’

      ‘You’d sit on this step all night because of a cat?’

      ‘Yes.’ Her mouth set in a determined line as she bent down, scooted the box closer. ‘You may not have a heart, Cameron Black, but I’ll safeguard this animal from harm if it’s the last thing I do.’

      ‘Which it could very well be.’ He shook his head. ‘Amazing.’ She was amazing—amazingly naïve or amazingly foolhardy. Or both. He checked his watch. It left him with no option but to move matters along immediately if he wanted to keep his already delayed dinner appointment on the other side of the city. Without looking at her he backtracked, picked up her overstuffed canvas shopping bag.

      Didi watched him close one large fist over the straps then scrambled up. ‘Hang about—where are you going with that?’

      ‘My apartment.’

      ‘No.’ She made a grab for the bag but he’d already started down the steps.

      She did not want to accompany Don’t-Date-This-Man to his bachelor apartment. Wherever that might be. Where he ate breakfast or lounged semi-naked in front of sports TV. She did not want to know—her pulse skipped a beat in panic—whether he slept alone. She wanted nothing to do with his living arrangements or his lifestyle…or his crazy women. ‘Stop!’

      His stride barely faltered. ‘You’re coming home with me and I don’t have time to argue about it.’

      Home with him? She knew next to nothing about him—except how he made her insides roll about as if they’d become detached. ‘I can’t…’ She caught up with him on the bottom step and tugged. Hard. One of the straps ripped away with a loud shirring sound, tipping the bag and spilling a few articles of intimate clothing onto the wet pavement. Water immediately soaked into the garments. ‘Now look what you made me do.’

      She regretted her slip the moment it left her mouth. His gaze landed on a lolly-pink thong centimetres from his shiny black shoes. Her old thong with the fraying elastic and the words ‘Tempt me’ faded by washing but still way too visible.

      Oh, no. She dropped to her haunches, her fingers scrabbling on the wet pavement.

      Too late.

      Heat prickled her neck as she rose. The minuscule garment swung from one long finger. If she’d met his eyes she might have seen humour there but, frankly, right now he didn’t seem the type and she wasn’t risking it. She muttered a word she almost never used beneath her breath, careful to avoid skin contact as she snatched it from him.

      She scooped the rest up, stuffing them back where they came from while rain splattered the pavement and her hair. Until Cameron shifted the umbrella so that it shielded her while leaving him exposed to the weather. ‘It’s all your fault,’ she bit out.

      ‘Am I to be held responsible for all your misfortunes, Didi?’

      She straightened quickly, her eyes skidding straight into his with the inevitability of a train wreck. ‘My life’s been a disaster since the night I met you.’ And even though she knew it was ridiculous, ‘So, yes, I’m holding you responsible.’

      His midnight-blue gaze didn’t alter but a muscle twitched beneath his right eye. ‘Makes one wonder what’ll happen next. Maybe you should give up now—your misfortunes have a recurring habit of rubbing off on me.’

      ‘I’m not rubbing anything off on you, Mr Black, you’re managing your own rubbing very well.’ Unfortunate choice of words. She forced herself to hold his gaze, which seemed to darken as they glared at each other.

      Moisture sheened his face and raindrops lay like diamonds on the shoulders and collar of his very expensive wool coat. She knew it was wool because she could smell its distinctive scent chafing comfortably with his very expensive cologne. No, a man like him wouldn’t tolerate something as inconvenient as another’s misfortune.

      ‘Maybe we could trade places some time,’ she shot at him. But as she tripped up the steps again she had to admit he was offering her a generous and possibly very inconvenient solution—for both of them. Or had she misunderstood? She picked up the cat’s box, hefted its wobbling weight under one arm. ‘Okay, so what exactly are you suggesting here, so I don’t misunderstand?’

      ‘You don’t have a place to stay—and I’ll take responsibility for that—so my apartment’s a logical choice.’

      ‘With my friend here? I’m not going anywhere without him.’

      He glanced at the cat box, frowned. ‘I guess it’s settled, then. Tomorrow you can look for somewhere more suitable.’

      She blew out a sigh, her breath fogging the air in front of her. Realistically, what alternative did she have? His offer was only for one night. A bed, somewhere safe…

      She made the mistake of looking up at him again. At the dark eyes and sensual mouth—right now it was firm and inflexible. And absolutely captivating. How would it feel to be captivated by such a mouth? She drew a deep breath of chill night air. Safe?

      ‘Tonight, then. Thank you.’ She tried to keep her voice a notch above a croak. ‘I’ll need to stop at a pet shop for supplies on the way.’

      He nodded, retrieving her one-handled bag, tucking it beneath one arm. She followed, dodging traffic and a tram as he headed towards a shiny late-model vehicle on the other side of the street while he fired rapid instructions into his mobile regarding the delivery of her stuff to the security guy at his apartment building.

      The next experience was sitting beside him in his big classy car that suddenly didn’t feel so big. Soft leather seats, the lingering fragrance of aftershave and mints. Body heat.

      She shrank against the door as far away as she could get and concentrated on the box on her knee, soothing the more and more agitated animal within with quiet murmurs. In the absence of radio or CD noise he sounded more like his larger jungle cousins. At least it gave her something СКАЧАТЬ