One Man's Mistress: One Night with His Virgin Mistress / Public Mistress, Private Affair / Mistress Against Her Will. Sara Craven

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Agreed?’

      Her shocked gaze fell away from his. Her brave words were forgotten.

      She said in a stifled voice, ‘I suppose …’

      He nodded. ‘And I know …’

      There was another silence—tingling—charged.

      Tallie’s heart was thundering. She said quietly, ‘Believe me, if I had anywhere—anywhere—to go at this moment, I’d already be on my way …’

      ‘In that case, why not spend some of your savings on a train fare back to the village? Or don’t you get on with any of your family?’

      ‘Yes, of course I do. My parents are lovely.’ She swallowed. ‘But, even so, they wouldn’t understand what I’m trying to do. Why I so badly need to see if I can finish this book and get it published. Actually make a career for myself as a writer.’

      Mark Benedict frowned. ‘Surely, if you explained to them …’

      ‘It wouldn’t work.’ She spread her hands. ‘They’d think I was being silly—living in a dream world—and want me to slot right back into the old life, treat the writing as a hobby—something I do when I’ve finished the day job. And that I can also put down at the drop of a hat when I’m needed for something else. Which I would be—constantly.’

      She paused. ‘But it just isn’t like that,’ she added passionately. ‘That’s why I know I have to stick to my original plan and stay in London. Although I promise I won’t trouble you any longer than I have to.’ She lifted her chin. ‘There must be somewhere affordable I can live, and I’ll find it, no matter how long it takes.’

      ‘I wish you luck,’ he said. ‘I must also warn you that it had better not take longer than a week, my little intruder. Don’t overestimate my capacity for philanthropy.’

      She glared at him. ‘Not,’ she said, ‘a mistake I’m likely to make.’

      ‘Good,’ he said, unmoved ‘And, on that understanding, I want you and your belongings—all traces of you, in fact—out of my bedroom and bathroom within the hour. We’ll discuss the other house rules later.’

      Tallie bit her lip. ‘I’ve been using your office to write in,’ she said. ‘Because there’s a printer there.’

      ‘Have you now?’ His tone was cold. ‘Egged on by Kit, no doubt?’

      ‘Well, yes.’ She looked down at her hands, clasped together in her lap. ‘I have to admit a real work room was one of the flat’s major attractions.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose he thought it was safe. That by the time you got back from Africa, I’d be gone.’

      ‘No,’ he said, ‘he would have thought nothing of the kind. Even without the civil war, we’d have been on our way home within a few weeks. The project was nearly finished and he knew it. He also knew I wasn’t expecting to find him here when I returned, because I’d already made it damned clear that I’d had more than enough of his freeloading and he could sling his hook.’

      He shook his head. ‘So I’d bet good money that he set the whole thing up quite deliberately. A serious piece of aggravation to await my arrival.’

      ‘But I still don’t understand,’ she said. ‘Why drag me into your private conflict? If that’s what it is.’

      ‘Oh, it wouldn’t have been personal.’ His tone was casual. ‘I don’t suppose he ever considered your feelings at all. You were just … a means to an end. A spiteful valediction to me before he removed himself out of harm’s way.’

      Tallie drew a breath. She said in a low voice, ‘I’ve never been used like that before.’

      ‘Well, don’t worry about it.’ He shrugged. ‘Kit’s just made you a member of a not very exclusive club.’ He looked at his watch. ‘And now I’d like to reclaim the more personal areas of my home, so perhaps you’d start moving your things. I’d like it all done before I go out tonight.’

      ‘You’re going out?’

      ‘Yes.’ He stretched indolently and got to his feet. ‘As I mentioned before, I feel in urgent need of some rest and recreation.’

      ‘But aren’t you exhausted?’ The words were uttered before she could stop them and she paused with a gasp of embarrassment as she encountered the glint of unholy amusement in his eyes.

      ‘Not yet, sweetheart,’ Mark Benedict drawled, ‘but I certainly hope to be before the night is over. Any more questions?’

      ‘No,’ Tallie mumbled, her face on fire.

      ‘Good,’ he said. ‘So maybe you’ll shelve your gratifying concern for my well-being and do as you’ve been asked—please.’

      Tallie rose too, her teeth gritted. There, she berated herself, that’s what happens when you’re stupid enough to feel sympathy for the bastard. So don’t fall into that trap again.

      She turned, heading for the door with an assumption of dignity completely spoiled by her unwary stumbling over the hem of the folds of towelling that shrouded her.

      ‘Oh, and I’ll have my robe back too.’ Her tormentor’s voice reached her softly. ‘At some mutually convenient moment, of course.’

      She found herself wishing with all her heart that she had the nerve to take it off right then and throw it at him, but such a gesture required far more chutzpah than she possessed, she realized, as she trailed, still flushed and furious, to the door.

      Discovering, too, that some previously unsuspected female instinct was telling her without fear of contradiction that his mouth would already be curling in that nasty sardonic grin as he watched her departure.

      Yet knowing at the same time that all hell would freeze over before she looked back over her shoulder to check.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      WITH her hair properly dried and severely confined with an elastic band at the nape of her neck, and safely back in her own clothing—jeans and a loose white overshirt—Tallie began to feel marginally better.

      She could even be almost glad she hadn’t slammed the sitting room door behind her as she’d been sorely tempted to do. But there wasn’t any other cause for rejoicing.

      She’d carefully collected all her clothes and personal possessions and transferred them to the spare room, before returning to the master bedroom to strip and remake the bed in its entirety, even down to the mattress cover, and choosing a dark blue satin spread as a replacement for the pale gold one she’d been using.

      Then she’d gone over the room with a fine toothcomb to ensure that not so much as a tissue or a button had been left behind to remind him of her brief presence. She’d even dusted so there wasn’t even a fingerprint of hers remaining on any of the surfaces, and she’d cleaned every inch of the bathroom.

      He could do a forensic search and he wouldn’t find me, she told herself grimly. I no longer exist in his space.

      And at least he’d left her to it. She’d half expected

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