His Defiant Mistress: The Millionaire's Rebellious Mistress / The Venetian's Midnight Mistress / The Billionaire's Virgin Mistress. CATHERINE GEORGE

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His Defiant Mistress: The Millionaire's Rebellious Mistress / The Venetian's Midnight Mistress / The Billionaire's Virgin Mistress - CATHERINE  GEORGE

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pomodoro e rucola,’ he announced grandly. ‘Potato dumplings with tomato sauce and rocket.’ He poured the wine and sat down, smiling at her as he raised his glass. ‘Your health, Sarah.’

      ‘Yours too,’ she said, toasting him. She eyed her meal with respect. ‘This looks—and smells—wonderful.’ She drank some wine, grated cheese over the gnocchi, and then put the first fluffy, melting forkful in her mouth. ‘Mmm,’ she said indistinctly, as the flavour of the sauce hit her tastebuds. ‘It tastes wonderful, too.’

      ‘Good. I enjoy seeing a woman eat.’

      ‘It’s one of my favourite pastimes!’

      Alex eyed her curiously. ‘What are the others?’

      She looked up from her plate. ‘Other what?’

      ‘Pastimes.’

      Sarah thought about it. ‘I enjoy my work so much I suppose you could list that as a pastime. I don’t seem to have time for anything else other than reading—at least not in summer. This winter I’m going to make an effort to go to concerts and plays, and visit exhibitions and so on. Last winter I was too busy fitting up my flat to go out much, except for a couple of weekends I spent in London with former flatmates.’

      ‘You’ve been back only twice?’

      ‘The first weekend was fine, because I hadn’t been gone long. But the second weekend was a mistake because by that time I was totally out of the loop.’ Sarah shrugged. ‘Once you’re gone, you’re gone.’

      ‘These weren’t close friends, obviously?’

      ‘No, but I’ll always be grateful to them, because they were kind to me after Dad died. I shared their flat after the family home was sold.’ She looked at him expectantly as she went on eating. ‘What kind of things do you do in your spare time?’

      Alex smiled ruefully. ‘I used to play village cricket, but these days I can’t count on being free for net practice sessions, or even for a match itself, so I’ve given it up and run a bit instead. I cycle as well, but sometimes life’s so hectic that lately I’ve been glad just to potter in my bit of garden on a Sunday, or watch cricket instead of actually playing.’

      ‘You must have more of a social life than that!’

      ‘Corporate entertaining mostly.’ His mouth turned down. ‘I get invited to private dinner parties quite a bit, too, but I accept only if I’m sure there’s no catch.’

      Sarah looked at him for a moment. ‘A helping hand for the host’s career?’

      He shook his head. ‘Unwilling partner for the hostess’s single best friend.’

      ‘Tricky! That kind of dinner party doesn’t feature in my life,’ said Sarah thankfully. She eyed the rustic loaf. ‘I’d love a chunk of that to wipe out my bowl.’

      Alex laughed, and jumped up to cut it for her. ‘We’ll both have some.’

      Sarah mopped up every last drop of sauce with her bread, then sat back, licking her lips. ‘It’s a sin to waste any of that sauce.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘How clever of you to make gnocchi. I’ve heard it’s a pretty ticklish process. You must give me your recipe.’

      Alex got up to refill her glass, but Sarah shook her head.

      ‘No more; I’ve got to drive home.’

      ‘Confession time.’ His eyes gleamed in the candlelight that burned brighter now it was darkening rapidly outside. ‘I made the sauce from scratch, I swear, but Steve gave me the gnocchi. I called in on my way home this morning and asked if he had any fresh pasta to spare, but he said his gnocchi would impress you more than the usual spaghetti.’

      Sarah laughed. ‘He was right. It was delicious.’

      ‘Stay where you are,’ he added as he collected plates. ‘Dinner’s not over yet.’

      Sarah looked round with envy when he’d disappeared into the kitchen, liking the idea of a next time. She felt so at home here. Probably because on a grander scale the vaulted ceiling and open space gave the same sense of breathing room as her flat.

      Alex came in to switch on lamps. ‘It’s raining hard out there.’

      Sarah could hear it drumming on the roof as he went to fetch the next course. It gave her the feeling of security experienced in childhood when she’d been tucked up in bed listening to rain spattering against the windows. She smiled at Alex as he came back. ‘I love that sound.’

      ‘So do I.’ He put a tray on the table, with coffee and a luscious looking dessert. ‘I cadged this from Steve, too. Chocolate and almond tart. You’ll like it.’

      Sarah did like it. So much that she gave in to temptation and accepted another slice. ‘But just a sliver, or I won’t get into these jeans again.’

      ‘Which would be a pity,’ he said blandly, ‘when they’re such a perfect fit.’

      She grinned. ‘I suppose you noticed when you were following me up the stairs?’

      ‘A man can’t help noticing such things,’ said Alex, unrepentant. ‘Will you pour?’

      They lingered over coffee until the pot was dry, while Sarah listened avidly to Alex’s account of his work on the house. But at last he apologised for getting carried away and stacked their cups on the tray. ‘Now, you take a sofa over there while I clear away.’

      ‘I’ll help,’ she said firmly, and started gathering up dessert plates.

      While they tidied up, in his compact, well-designed kitchen, Alex demanded a detailed account of her movements since he’d last seen her, and Sarah told him about the meal at Westhope Farm, and Mavis Grover’s powerful parsnip wine. But they were sitting on one of the sofas together before she mentioned Dan Mason’s visit.

      ‘He came round to your place?’ Alex’s eyes narrowed. ‘And what was that about?’

      ‘He wanted me to have dinner with him again, at some place near Ross.’

      ‘And what did you say?’ he asked silkily.

      ‘I said no. And not just because you warned me against him, so don’t look so smug.’ Sarah shivered. ‘I didn’t want to go out with him, to Ross or anywhere else.’

      ‘Good,’ said Alex with satisfaction, and put an arm round her.

      ‘Dan was so objectionable when I said no—Harry was all for seeing him off,’ she added, chuckling. ‘He’d been cleaning my windows. You should have seen Dan’s face when Harry appeared.’

      ‘Good for Harry!’

      ‘Anyway, Dan went off in a huff, but his parting shot was a warning about you.’

      Alex stiffened. ‘Oh?’

      ‘He said I should watch my step, because I’m in the same line of business as you, and while I’m just small fry you’ve got the might of the Merrick Group behind

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