His Mistress, His Terms

by Trish Wylie

  His hazel eyes narrowed slightly, and he pursed his lips together so that the dimple in the centre of his chin deepened. Then his square jaw rose, light from the windows shining off the short spikes of blond hair as he asked her in a deep grumble, ‘Are you this difficult to work with too?’

  ‘I wasn’t aware I was being difficult.’ She blinked innocently and sipped her tea.

  ‘Can you do tomorrow morning at nine?’

  ‘We-ell, I’d have to check my busy schedule—’ She grinned when his mouth narrowed again. He was so-o-o easy to wind up! And the Pavenham Hotel was a hu-uge project; the kind of project a career could indeed be built on. It was almost enough to make her mouth water more than the initial sight of Alex in Galway had. Almost. But for different reasons obviously.

  ‘I can do nine.’

  ‘Good.’ His broad shoulders dropped the tiniest amount, his thick dark blond lashes flickering as he studied her eyes. ‘I assume you know where it is?’

  ‘Big old wreck of a mausoleum on Aston Quay?’

  ‘That’s the one.’

  ‘Then, yes, I do know where it is.’ She sipped tea and waited. Because judging by the way he’d just shifted his weight from one foot to the other there was more to come. He really should try some tea. Or a Valium. Or the only other thing she could think of to relieve all that tension…

  Okay, and now the room was warm. ‘Is there more?’

  ‘Is the fact we slept together going to be an issue if we work together?’

  She couldn’t resist. ‘I don’t remember much sleeping.’

  His voice dropped into a professional tone. ‘This project is worth—’

  ‘Millions. Mmm, you mentioned that on the phone.’ She nodded, her eyes still staring up at him. ‘So?’

  ‘I was going to say it’s worth a lot to me.’

  ‘Why? What makes it more special than any other project Fitzgerald & Son has ever worked on before?’

  He frowned, and avoided her direct gaze. ‘That doesn’t matter—’

  ‘Apparently it does.’

  ‘I won’t have the project messed up—’

  ‘Well, then, maybe it would be better if I just didn’t turn up tomorrow at nine? Since you have such faith in my abilities…’ Her chin rose in challenge. Ha!

  She marched past him to replace the lid onto the flask. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.’

  A list of horrible names for the new version of him was forming in her mind when his voice sounded again; lower this time, with an edge of resignation. ‘Look. It’s like this: Mickey D and his Apocalypse friends are making me crazy—have been for six months. They’re difficult. I don’t need the added hassle of working with someone else who’s that difficult on a daily basis—it’s already complicated enough.’

  ‘You don’t know anything about me, Alexander.’

  ‘It’s Alex, as you well know.’ She heard him turn, felt the air behind her displace as he leaned his head closer to her to speak in a husky voice close by her ear, just as he had when he’d once used words to seduce her. ‘And therein lies the problem, Merrow. ’Cos I know more about you than I’ve ever known about any other woman I’ve worked with before. And that can’t get in the way.’

  Merrow swallowed hard and willed her pulse to calm down. ‘What you need is someone who can work with you on the project. Not against you.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  She felt his breathing stirring the hair against the nape of her neck, felt her own breathing speed up, her voice dropping. ‘Someone who can design the interior without taking away from the architecture.’

  ‘Precisely.’

  When she turned her head his gaze shifted from the top of her head as if he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. Or more likely been caught doing something he didn’t want to be doing. Ha again! He wasn’t any more immune to the original spark of chemistry between them than she was, was he? Well, this time she knew who she was dealing with. And she wasn’t so sure she liked this version of him enough to go down that road again, so there!

  She ran her tongue over her lips, watched as his gaze dropped, so with a mischievous smile she bit down on her lower lip, which made him frown. And when he looked into her eyes she tilted her head to one side, studying the gold flecks in the hazel for a second before she continued.

  ‘What you want is a designer that can be guided artistically by you, one that’s malleable…’

  She let her tongue linger on the word ‘malleable’ and watched the gold in his eyes spark dangerously. But before he could say anything she reached up to straighten his tie, tightening it overly firmly around his neck as her eyes focussed on the task. ‘I’ll be there tomorrow, Alex—to meet your client—because he wants me. But I won’t be moulded by anyone.’

  She patted the tie with the palm of one hand, vaguely noting how tight his chest was beneath his shirt before she took a step backwards and looked up into his hooded eyes. ‘Not even by someone I know is so very good with his hands…’

  Alex practically growled at her.

  ‘Now I have gold leaf to smooth into place. Which takes a high level of concentration and a fine touch.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘So you’ll have to excuse me.’

  ‘Merrow—’

  But she ignored the warning tone in his voice, turning to set her foot onto the scaffolding. ‘Bye-bye, Alex. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  She was halfway up the scaffolding before she heard his mumbled words on the way out the door. ‘Well, that’s more than you managed last time.’

  Flat on her back again she stared up at the ceiling, but she didn’t even attempt to lift another sheet of the delicate gold leaf. Instead she dug her mobile out of her pocket and hit Lisa’s number.

  ‘Hi, it’s me. Remember Lou’s hen weekend at the Oyster Festival in Galway?’

  ‘When you met Mr-Über-Hot?’

  ‘Yep. Well, remember we swore what happened in Galway would stay in Galway?’

  ‘Yuh-huh.’

  ‘I’ve run into a bit of a problem with that…’

  CHAPTER TWO

  AND you have to wear the green nineteen-twenties dress—it’s gorgeous on you!

  Merrow smoothed her palms down over the front of the dress, glad she’d been talked into it. If clothes made the man then they boosted the woman’s confidence no end. It was a law of nature.

  Hair down. No, up in something chic. No, definitely down—men love long hair.

  Like she cared what Alex Fitzgerald loved! But down had won, mainly because it was easier. On one of her usual whims she tied a long silk scarf of the same deep shimmering olive green over her head like a wide Alice band, the ends flowing down her back beneath her hair.

  And heels, you have to have heels on. How tall is he? Yum! Okay, then, definitely heels…

  The heels maybe hadn’t been the best plan in the world, especially when she decided she needed coffee from the far side of the bridge at the bottom of O’Connell Street. Because when she had to queue to get her extra large cinnamon latte it meant she had to run back over the bridge to get to the Pavenham for bang on nine—and running in heels while carrying said extra large coffee without ending up wearing it was no easy trick. She even laughed at the ridiculousness of it along the way. But the fact was, getting wardrobe advice from her friends over numerous cocktails the night before meant that coffee was a necessity…

  It would serve Alex damn Fitzgerald right if she’d turned up in her work dungarees again. After all, this was work, it wasn’t a date!

  Which didn’t really explain why her pulse hiccupped at the sight of him standing outside the old hotel, but then, in fairness, he did look hot. And much more like the Galway Alex she remembered now he was out of a suit again. Instead he had on comfy-looking blue jeans and a crisp white shirt, worn loose, unbuttoned at the neck, with rolled up sleeves.

  The sun came out from behind a cloud and glinted on his blond hair. So Merrow glanced heavenwards, shaking her he
ad. ‘Not helping.’

  He adjusted the camera strap he had draped off one shoulder, pacing up and down as he spoke on the phone, his movements fluid, hinting at physical strength and confidence. Mind you, if Merrow had been born a boy and ended up looking like that she’d have been confident too. Add to his looks the fact that she now knew he came from one of the richest, oldest, best-known families in the country and, well…the fact that he was gorgeous as well seemed a tad unfair to the rest of mankind…

  Just as well he had a tendency towards acting like a bit of an ass, really. It was a karmic balance thing, wasn’t it?

  As she thought that very thought he laughed out loud in response to whatever his phone friend said. And even through the sounds of traffic and people she could hear it: the deep, oh-so-male sound dancing through the background noise and translating straight into an answering smile on her face. Well, hell. It wasn’t as if he was laughing for her benefit!

  A random person in the crowd bumped her shoulder, causing her to hold her coffee out so she wouldn’t end up cinnamon-scented having got safely all the way across the bridge. So, with a smaller smile at the rushed apology, she focussed her attention on dodging the traffic to get to Alex’s side of the road.

  He flipped his phone shut, pushing it into the back pocket of his jeans as she approached, any hint of laughter gone from his face as he studied her from top to toe with hooded eyes.

  ‘Good morning!’ She pinned a hundred-watt smile on her face. ‘Not waiting long, I hope?’

  Alex glanced at his watch. ‘Nope, you’re bang on time. Not that I can say the same thing about Mickey.’

  ‘Rock stars can’t be on time; it’s too conventional for them.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He gave her a sideways glance that translated to Merrow as his believing she’d understand unconventional better than he would, which, in fairness, was probably true. But even so…

  She tilted her head. ‘So, do you want to walk me through your plans while we wait or shall we stand out here and discuss the weather?’

  ‘Maybe we should talk about yesterday first.’

  ‘Or maybe we should try to go one itty-bitty day without annoying each other or ending up horizontal?’

  Accompanying the question with another smile didn’t stop Alex frowning. ‘You see, that’s exactly what we need to talk about. You can’t talk to me like that in front of a client, or the building crew.’

  ‘And you can’t talk to me in the patronising tone you’d use on a twelve-year-old and not expect me to retaliate.’ She blew into the tiny hole in the top of her coffee-cup. ‘I know how to behave around clients. And building crews like a bit of banter, especially from a girl; they work harder to impress her that way. If you can’t have a bit of craic at work from time to time then the days can get lo-ong.’

  When she glanced up at him from beneath her long lashes he was staring at her with a stony-faced expression. ‘And I remember you having more of a sense of humour before. Did you rent it from somewhere for your weekend in Galway?’

  ‘Do you bait me on purpose?’

  ‘Nope, but it seems to be a talent, doesn’t it? Maybe if you didn’t take yourself so seriously it wouldn’t be so easy…’

  ‘I take my work seriously.’

  ‘And so you should, but not to the point of stuffiness—a little charm can work wonders.’

  ‘You think I can’t be charming?’ The gold in his eyes sparkled. ‘Now, Merrow, you know better than that.’

  And there it was. That hint of a smile that, when accompanied with the sparkle in his eyes, made every bit of her itch to tease the smile out properly. He’d done that in Galway too. She just needed to remember what it was she’d done then to make it happen…Mmm…

  Her forefinger tapped absent-mindedly against her coffee-cup while she thought. She was fairly sure that was illegal at nine o’clock in the morning, in public, while standing beside the Liffey. Tempting though…

  Just remember he’s being an ass.

  He glanced down at her high heels with a thoughtful expression on his face, then his gaze rose, slowly, studying every inch of her exposed calves, until he looked up at her face from beneath his lashes, and stepped closer. ‘I can be charming. I can be more than charming if it gets me the results I want.’

  Uh-oh. This was a new tactic. Now, you see, him being an ass she could work with; him being charming, well, more than charming—that she might have to think some about. It would actually be simpler if he stayed an ass. And she could help with that.

  So she lifted her chin and looked down her nose at him. ‘I’ve no evidence of that in business—’ she shrugged one shoulder ‘—and I don’t mix business with pleasure, Mr Fitzgerald. I take my job very seriously.’

  Then she lifted her cup, took a sip and smiled.

  After a brief moment of silence Alex stunned her by laughing, the sound even more affecting physically up close than it had been from across the street. ‘Touché, Miss O’Connell. There’s never going to be a dull moment with you around, is there?’

  Merrow turned slightly on one heel and looked up and down the street, studying random faces. ‘I’m sorry, are all of your multiple personalities here? If I’d known, I’d have said hello to all of them…’

  Long, warm fingers circled her elbow, pulling her towards the large oak doors. ‘Come on. Let’s go look inside. And if you manage to get Mickey D off my case I’ll think about being charming more often.’

  ‘Is that a threat?’

  He laughed again, shaking his head as he pulled open the door. ‘It’s a promise—a heartfelt one.’

  Once inside he stepped back, releasing her elbow as he watched her reaction from the corner of his eye. And he told himself it was important she liked what he was doing with the hotel because he needed her to work on its interior, not because he felt the need to have his ego stroked.

  Damn, but she was pretty.

  When he’d seen her running over the bridge she’d taken his breath away. With her green nineteen-twenties ‘flapper girl’ dress and that suggestive scarf floating out behind her, she’d been a vivid splash of colour in a cityscape of grey. He hadn’t expected the smile of anticipation the sight of her had brought to his face.

  And he wasn’t kidding. If she managed to unsettle and ruffle Mickey D the way she did him, then this might just work. She’d be due more than a little gratitude for that. He’d be very appreciative.

  Then he’d have a reason to act out on some of the dreams he’d had the night before…some based on things they’d already done…some he’d be fully prepared to give a try, according to his body’s immediate reaction every time she was around.

  ‘Wow.’

  He smiled at her expression. ‘I’m glad you like it. I was just on the phone with the contractor and he informs me we’re a little ahead with the renovation. So it’s ready for an interior designer to step in.’

  ‘It’s huge!’

  Music to any man’s ears…

  Alex silently cleared his throat. ‘Fifty rooms, four suites and a penthouse. And a restaurant, a bar, a spa, conference rooms…you know, just enough to keep a designer out of mischief…’

  She turned her head and focussed wide green eyes on him. And for the first time he saw a crack in her usual confidence; if anything she paled a little. ‘Ready by when exactly?’

  ‘Yesterday.’

  Alex’s chin dropped, he closed his eyes briefly, sighed, and opened his eyes long enough to glance apologetically at Merrow before he turned round and swept an arm out to his side. ‘Merrow O’Connell, meet Mickey D—new owner of the Pavenham.’

  Merrow stepped forwards, extending one fine-boned hand to the leather-clad, sunglasses-wearing Mickey. She even cocked her hip towards him. ‘Well, hello, it’s lovely to finally meet you.’

  Mickey took her hand and used the other to tilt his sunglasses further down his nose before he took much longer than necessary to look Merrow over. ‘Well, aren’t you just the prettiest thing in this
place since we started? You single, Merrow O’Connell?’

  She giggled. Actually giggled. Like a star-struck teenager. And Alex scowled at her back before he stepped closer to her side. ‘Whether or not she’s single doesn’t really have any relevance to—’

  ‘Oh, I’m terminally single. More time for my work.’

  Mickey smiled a smile that showed off his gold front tooth to good effect. ‘All work and no play, Merrow…’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, Mickey.’ She patted the back of the hand holding hers with her other hand, her eyes sparkling. ‘I find time to play too—’

  She tilted her head towards Alex, turned her face, and looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. ‘Don’t I, Alex?’

  Hadn’t she said she knew how to behave around clients? Well, if that was her idea of behaving then they needed to have another little chat about—

  But she’d already moved on. ‘Did Alex tell you I was conceived to one of your albums? My mum is a huge fan!’

  Mickey let go of her hand, his smile changing a little, in tone if not in width. ‘You’ll have to bring her to the hotel when we’re all finished up.’

  ‘She’d love that.’ Merrow flicked her deep auburn hair off one shoulder and leaned in closer to bat her eyelashes at him. ‘Do you want to give me the grand tour in person?’

  In front of Alex’s amazed eyes, Mickey D—the guy who had made his life hell for months—gallantly held out a crooked elbow, grinning at Merrow as she accepted it and fitted in against his side. ‘I’d love to, little lady. Love to. Have to say: love your work. I was in the nightclub you worked on in Cork—the one with the round sofa-bed things and the harem theme. Very sexy…’

  Merrow winked at Alex on the way past, and handed him her coffee as if he were her assistant.

  ‘Actually, Mickey, I’ve some ideas about hotels already. I read about adult hotels online; have you heard about them?’

  Alex scowled. He wasn’t sure if he admired the fact she’d just ‘managed’ his difficult client, or if he was mad at her for trying to turn the place into some kind of twenty-first century brothel underneath his nose, or if he was just plain furious that she’d pressed her body so close into Mickey’s side.