Mistress: At What Price? (9 page)

Finally she had his attention. She had Dane where she wanted him. Not Mariel his childhood friend, not Mariel who'd agreed to this arrangement for mutual benefit, but the sexual woman he'd made love to last night.

He shook his head. ‘Can you repeat that, Jus?'

She'd ruffled that smooth exterior, distracted his ordered mind. She'd never felt such rush of feminine power before. It swam through her limbs like the most potent brandy until her head was dizzy with it.

High on the elixir, she smiled and prodded his chest, so that his body tipped back onto the chair. It rolled back a little.

‘I'll…ah…need you to e-mail me that info tonight.'

On a wave of confidence she shrugged out of the tattered T-shirt and stood before him in nothing but her lace panties.

‘When do we…um…when…?' His voice trailed away.

She slid her palms down her hips, stepped out of the last remnant of clothing, flung it over her shoulder. It landed on his desk with a quiet plop.

His eyes glazed over. ‘No. Everything's fine. Just fine,' he choked out as she worked deft fingers over the front of his shorts.

Without breaking eye contact, Mariel took the phone from his hand—as easy as taking candy from a baby.
‘Goodbye, Justin,' she said, and disconnected. She straddled Dane, satisfied she'd achieved her intended outcome. Oh, yes, she saw desperation and desire, both sharp as a sword and glittering in those grey depths.

‘Right now…' she tugged down the zip, grasping his throbbing length with both hands ‘…I've a craving for more than ice-cream.'

Dane's brief chuckle turned ragged. His blood hammered through his groin, his ears, and every place between. ‘So I noticed,' he muttered, before she crushed her lips to his and possessed him with fast, greedy bites. Long, luscious licks on fevered skin that cooled in the air as she feasted on his jaw, his neck, a shoulder.

She took him inside her with a cry that bounced off the walls and echoed like the thunder of horses' hooves in his ears. Conquest, triumph, victory. He saw it in the emerald fire in her eyes. He took her mouth and tasted it on her lips.

In turn, he possessed her with restless hands and frantic touches. Gave her what she wanted, took what she offered. Urgent, reckless, primitive.

There was no gentleness, no finesse. Just the frenzied race to the finish. And when it was over, and she collapsed against him, still it wasn't enough. He wanted more. He wanted to burrow beneath her skin, steal inside her mind. All. One.

Dangerous—this insatiable appetite. This all-consuming need. He enjoyed sex. But this sudden craziness was like an addiction that knew no limit. Which made him wonder: what the hell was it?

For one insane moment a couple of years back he'd even thought himself in love, but it hadn't lasted. It never lasted. The ability to love simply wasn't in his genes.

He drifted a hand over her hair, breathed her scent of sex and warm skin. He squeezed her nape so that she looked up at him with over-bright eyes.

‘Wow,' she breathed. ‘I'm good. I mean, I'm really, really good.'

The laugh that bubbled up from his throat was a mix of amusement and affection. ‘Here I was, thinking it was me.'

Amusement and affection. He should have known with Mariel it would be that simple.

And that complicated.

His humour faded. ‘I have to go in to work tomorrow.' He smoothed a thumb over Mariel's jaw.

‘I thought you were on leave?'

‘I was. But there's a problem with a computer system we installed a few weeks ago. Which means a quick trip to Mount Gambier.'

A day trip. ‘And Justin can't go?'

‘Jus and Cass are busy trying to make a baby, and it's Cass's fertile time, apparently. According to Cass's calculations tomorrow morning's the charm.'

Her eyes widened, incredulous. ‘She's pinpointed it down to the hour? Are you for real?'

‘That's what Jus told me.' The thought made him smile. ‘What could I say?'

She grinned, too. ‘Nothing but yes, I guess.' Her mouth softened, her eyes took on a sparkle, dew on spring leaves. ‘Making a baby…'

Without warning the cunning image stole through his mind. Mariel, round with a child. With
his
child. He clenched his jaw against an unfamiliar crushing sensation in his upper chest.

He shook his head to clear the unsettling thoughts
that struck too close, too deep, and somehow messed with his perception that he had this situation with Mariel under control.

‘That's convenient, then,' she went on, as if she hadn't noticed his silence. ‘I want to work on some ideas, sketch a few designs. Acquire a tailor… I might even get some work done with you out of harm's way and unable to distract me.'

His brows rose. ‘Me? Distract you? After what just happened here?'

‘You only have to be in the same room to distract me, Dane. It's always been that way. But now I've discovered I do the same to you.'

His gaze drifted over her naked perfection. Already his body stirred with desire again. Fighting the irrational emotion that there was more to it, he shrugged and said, ‘I guess we'll get it out of our systems eventually.'

Her delicate shoulders tensed. A weighty silence seemed to thicken the air. ‘I darn well hope so.' Her voice was clipped as she climbed off him. She swiped her panties from the desk, shrugged into the remnants of his T-shirt and breezed towards the door.

He wished she'd turn so he could see her expression. ‘I'll join you in a few moments.'

‘Not a good idea.' She paused at the door. Only then did she face him, and her eyes were unreadable. Her compressed lips, however, told a story. She forced them into something approaching a smile when she saw him looking at them and said, ‘We'd spend all night keeping each other awake and I'm totally knackered. Goodnight, Dane.'

He sat for a long time, staring at the darkened
doorway. He could hear her moving about in her room, could still smell her fragrance on the air. How the hell was he going to get back to normal without her when this was over?

M
ARIEL
plopped face down onto her bed. She deserved an Academy Award for that performance, but she was pretty sure he'd bought it. Except for the fatal way she'd nibbled her lips. He'd seen it. Damn, he knew her too well.

Holding her pillow to her chest, she rolled over and stared up at the darkness. She'd managed to keep her tone as blasé as his. That was what it was all about, after all.

Her mouth twisted with grim humour. So she'd downplayed the intensity she knew they both felt by purposely bringing it up in conversation. He'd bought it, hadn't he? She needed to keep up the façade because that was what they'd agreed on.

Besides, she tried to tell herself, they'd never make it as a couple. They'd never see eye-to-eye on any damn thing—from personal appearance and TV shows to family and kids. Or commitment.

She also needed to make it clear they weren't going to do overnighters. If he saw her before she was wide awake she'd be vulnerable, and he'd see through her as easy as glass. It would be far too dangerous, because she was falling. Out-of-control falling.

Her heart seemed to curl in on itself; her fingers
clenched against her pillow. Time for honesty, she decided. She'd already fallen. Head over heels. Big-time. All the way. She was in love with Dane. Always had been.

Now she knew every intimate inch of his body, knew the sounds he made in passion, the feel of him deep inside her. Friends would never be enough, and ‘lovers' was a temporary arrangement.

She sent her pillow sailing through the air, heard it slump heavily against the dark antique wardrobe.

But it was done now. And it was vital that she keep up the charade, that he never knew what she felt deep in her soul, because that would put him in an impossible situation. He didn't want permanency. He'd want to get back to his free lifestyle and bosomy blondes.

The bastard.

So she'd keep it light and easy. She'd make the most of the time they had and then…and then she'd walk away with the memories even if she walked away without her heart.

 

The following morning she kept to her plan. It wasn't as hard as she'd anticipated because Dane was in a hurry. He didn't stop for breakfast, grabbing a coffee on the run. But he did kiss her goodbye at the front door. A toe-curling kiss that went on and on and on, until the driver of the chauffeured limo waiting at the kerb to take Dane to the airport coughed discreetly.

Dane lifted his head and searched her face for a long moment. The early-morning sun struck his hair with gold, and heat blazed in his eyes, searing her cheeks. ‘Tonight,' he promised.

She shook her head. ‘You'll miss your flight.' It occurred to her then that they were saying goodbye as
if they were a married couple, and she backed away, unsettled. ‘Have a safe trip.'

‘I'll call you.'

Blowing him a breezy kiss, she turned and walked back inside. Already she couldn't wait to see him again. To hear his voice again. To feel his body against hers again.

It felt odd, walking through his house alone. A reminder that she was here only because they'd agreed it was the best way. It was vital she keep those impatient wants in perspective, because she couldn't afford to want him this much.

 

If it were possible, their sexual relationship grew in intensity over the coming week. Because she wanted to work—and because she privately worried that they were becoming too close—Dane went about his business during the day and they only met up again in the evenings.

If he had a function to attend, she accompanied him. The press followed. They were a popular couple in the society pages. Speculation in the media mounted as to how long Dane would remain Bachelor of the Year, but he refused any interviews that involved talking about Mariel, insisting again that they were ‘just good friends'. Nor did he give Mariel any indication that his status as bachelor might change.

They shared quiet evenings at home, took a moonlit walk on the beach late one evening after a particularly hot day, relaxed by the pool. Doing ordinary things couples did.

And every night, they came together with a passion that gave no indication of slowing down or fading. A love affair, she told herself.

And affairs ended.

But they cared about each other, respected each other. She refused to think beyond each day, determined to enjoy it while it lasted.

Mariel learned that Dane owned a string of buildings within the central business district. There were tenants to deal with, a minor plumbing emergency, renovations to approve. He made preparations for his upcoming Outback trip. It seemed he'd purposely filled his life with distractions to keep him busy.

And it bothered her that he'd turned his back on the only family he had. She lay in bed one night, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. She knew they'd had their problems in the past, but the remorse in his father's eyes on the night of the ball had convinced her there was hope, if only she could get Dane to see it.

Slipping out of bed, she grabbed her robe and padded downstairs. She poured herself a glass of milk, then carried it outside into the fragrant night air. Moonlight bathed the high stone walls and the luxury enclosed within. She turned to study the heritage building that was Dane's home.

Dane was a proud man, bordering on arrogant. Independent. Stubborn. Too damn stubborn to admit he might be as fallible as any other mere mortal. Everyone needed family, even Dane. She sensed that deep down he was a little boy, still yearning for that connection.

So he had women, acquaintances, business associates, but when things fell apart or tragedy struck, what then? If she could do one thing for him, it would be to try to reunite father and son.

‘What are you doing out here?'

Startled out of her thoughts, she turned to see Dane standing in the doorway, a pair of loose boxers low on his hips. ‘Thinking.' She walked towards him, pressed her head against his chest, listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady in her ear. ‘Just thinking.'

‘I can't sleep either.' His arms slid around her waist. They were silent a moment, while the crickets chirped around them and something rustled in the bushes.

Dane was relearning how to sense her moods, the way he had when they'd been younger, but tonight…What had brought her outside in the middle of the night? Had he upset her in some way? No. Mariel wasn't backwards in coming forwards. If she had a problem with him she'd let him know. So he laid his head against her bed-mussed hair and just held her.

She felt deeply, he thought, his hands wandering over the silken robe to absorb her body heat. Unlike the women who'd shared his bed over the years. Or perhaps he'd never known them long enough, or cared enough, to notice. No, that wasn't quite true. He'd had relationships that had lasted as long, if not longer, than this current relationship with Mariel. But this was different. Almost as if they'd become more than lovers.

No.
He couldn't do that. Not to Mariel. He didn't want to hurt her. Would not hurt her. She meant too much, she was too important. Possibly the most important person in his life. He'd do anything to spare her the pain of falling for a man who couldn't commit. Which meant keeping to the same path they'd started out on. Smooth, level. Practical.

She shifted and relaxed against him. He squeezed her shoulders before taking her inside.

 

From behind the glass doors overlooking the pool Dane watched the low-slung canary-yellow sports car pull up under the carport beside his Porsche.

It was Sunday afternoon, the day before he was due to fly north. He'd be away for a week. Mariel had told him she had a surprise, and had made him promise to be home and not to argue with her when she got back.

The driver's door opened and he was treated to the mouth-watering sight of yellow stiletto sandals. As they touched the ground he noted that the sandals were attached to long shapely legs. No argument there. White-frosted toenails peeked out from beneath the straps and sparkly bits arched over her ankles.

Mariel climbed out, her dark hair tied back with a yellow ribbon. It looked as if she'd chosen the car to accessorise another neat little sundress, and it occurred to him that not many months ago maybe she would have.

He admired the shape of her bottom as she leaned over the back seat, then straightened with a box from the Chocolate Choices shop in her hands. Couldn't argue with that either.

She looked as delicate and deliciously cool as a slice of lemon meringue pie. Heat stirred deep in his loins and a primal growl rose up his throat.

Until the passenger door opened and his father climbed out.

The gut-punch knocked him back a step. Good God, what the hell was she doing? His body tensed as he watched Mariel walk with his father towards the door where Dane stood, hand frozen on the door catch. A ball of something thick and hard crawled up his
throat. Straightening, he slid the door open before she reached it.

‘Dane,' Mariel said before he could get a word out. Nerves flitted across her eyes. ‘I've brought your dad to town. I know how much you both like chess and…thought you could get reacquainted over a game.'

His gaze swung from Mariel to his father. ‘Dad.'

His father stopped an arm's length away. ‘Hello, Dane. Mariel invited me, but if you want she'll drive me straight home again.'

Avoiding her gaze, Dane was tempted to tell her to do just that. He flexed his fingers. ‘You're here now.'

There was anguish in his eyes, Dane knew, because there was empathy and understanding in Mariel's when he finally looked. He felt as if she'd stripped away his pride and confidence and left him naked.

He gestured stiffly to the sofa. ‘What are you drinking these days?'

‘I'll have a beer, if you've got one, thanks.'

Mariel switched on a CD. Light music filled the room. She slipped past Dane with an, ‘Okay, then, I'll leave you two to—'

‘Not so fast.' Dane grabbed her arm and practically frog-marched her to the adjacent kitchen. As soon as they were out of earshot he spun her to face him. Her eyes were moist. And angry.

She
was angry? ‘What the hell are you doing?' he demanded, his voice killingly low.

‘I'm thinking about you, Dane.' She set her box of chocolate goodies on the counter. ‘Your father needs you, and whether you know it or not you need him. I thought bringing him here for a friendly game of chess was a good starting point.'

He dropped her arm, strode to the fridge and pulled out two beers. ‘I'd rather face a firing squad.'

‘I might be able to arrange that.' He didn't need to look at her to feel her knife-edged gaze, as sharp as a slap. ‘In fact, I might just perform the favour myself.'

His temper boiled over. ‘You brought him here to play chess? Fine. You play. I'm not ready for this.'

Mariel hugged her arms around her body as he passed her, set the beer in front of his father and strode outside. The door slid shut with a thud that vibrated along the wall.

Ah, God. Had she made a really bad mistake? Her heart raced, her legs felt weak, but she made herself cross the room to face Daniel. Tension dug grooves in his already lined face. She'd upset not one person, but two people.

‘He'll come round,' she murmured, then pulled her lips into a smile, pulled up a chair so that they both faced the chessboard. ‘Meanwhile, why don't you explain the game to me?'

Daniel took three long gulps of beer then scrubbed a hand over his jaw. ‘I should go.'

‘Give him a few moments.' To distract Daniel, and settle herself, she picked up one of the beautiful black crystal pieces. ‘What's this one called?'

Daniel exhaled a slow breath. ‘It's a bishop. It can only move diagonally.' He picked up another. ‘Whereas the knight can jump over any other chess pieces. The object of the game is to checkmate your opponent's king.'

‘And what does that mean, exactly?'

‘It's when—' He broke off when the door slid sharply open and Dane stepped back inside.

His expression gave nothing away. It was as if he'd
pulled on a mask. But he was calmer, Mariel noted. The tension in his shoulders had loosened; his hands weren't balled into fists any more. Some of her own tension ebbed. But only a little, because he was too cool. Too controlled.

He wasn't finished with her yet, she knew. She'd stepped way over the boundaries they'd set. She was his lover; that was all. Temporary at that. Which gave her no right to interfere in his personal decisions. Or his life.

Just because family meant everything to her, and she wanted one of her own some day, it didn't mean she had to inflict her lifestyle choices on anyone else. Not even Dane. Even if her motives had been purely for his benefit.

She sprang off the chair, nerves jangling. ‘I've got things to do. Upstairs.'

Dane watched her go, then took the chair she'd vacated, set his empty beer bottle on the floor beside him. Outside, he'd been tempted to keep walking, to leave Mariel to clean up the mess she'd made. Until he'd realised she only had his interests at heart. Since when had anyone done anything like that for him? He quite simply couldn't remember. And he'd reacted like an angry schoolkid.

But he was a grown man, so he'd just have to suck it up and act like one. Didn't mean he was going to like it. ‘Let's get it over with, then. White?'

His dad shook his head. ‘We don't have to play.'

The beginnings of a smile tugged at the corner of Dane's mouth. ‘You never did like to lose, as I recall.' He moved the clear crystal king's pawn two spaces.

His dad mirrored the move. ‘I haven't played in years.'

‘No excuses.' Dane made his second move. Queen, four spaces.

‘Barbara left.'

‘I know.' Both men studied the board. ‘That's the kind of woman she is. I tried telling you that.'