His Cinderella Mistress

by Carole Mortimer

  And been totally stunned—if pleasantly surprised!—by the honesty of the answer she had given him.

  But, then, he had been stunned in one way or another since the moment he’d first looked at her, felt as if he had been punched in the stomach then, felt completely poleaxed now that he had actually spoken to her, her voice huskily sexy, her face even more beautiful close to, and as for her body…!

  Perhaps he had better not dwell on the wonder of her willowy body just now; after all, it wasn’t even midnight yet, which meant there were at least another three hours or so before he could take her out of here.

  They were the longest three hours of his life, Max decided as he waited impatiently for January to play her final song. He hadn’t even been able to get close to her when the clocks had struck midnight, had been forced to watch from afar as she’d made the countdown and had then been surrounded by well-wishers. Most of them male, he had noted with dark disapproval. All of whom he had wanted to punch on the nose as they’d claimed a New Year kiss from her.

  The hotel manager had claimed her attention during her next break, the two of them talking comfortably together until it had been time for January to go back on. While Max had sat frustratedly at his table just willing her to look in his direction. Which she hadn’t.

  Deliberately so? After the way he had come on so strongly earlier, he wouldn’t be in the least surprised!

  How Jude, his longtime friend and boss, would have laughed if he could see him now! Or, more likely, having seen her, Jude would have made a play for January himself…

  Now there was a thought he would rather not have had!

  Ordinarily it wouldn’t have bothered him if Jude was interested in the same woman he was, but he already knew January was different; it would certainly test his long-term friendship with Jude if he were to make any sort of move on her!

  When at last she had finished January looked extremely tired, he noted frowningly as he stood up to join her. Not that he was in the least tired himself; jet lag had ensured that he slept this afternoon and now felt wide awake.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he prompted as she turned away without looking up.

  Smoky grey eyes looked up at him guardedly beneath sooty lashes. ‘Home?’ she suggested ruefully.

  She really did look very tired, Max noted with a frown, dark shadows beneath those incredibly beautiful grey eyes, a weariness to her shoulders too now that she was no longer on public display, the hotel guests and New Year’s Eve visitors making their way noisily from the bar.

  ‘I said I would wait for you,’ he reminded huskily.

  She frowned, seeming on the point of protest, one look at his obvious expression of determination making her shrug defeatedly instead. ‘I just have to go and collect my coat and bag,’ she told him lightly.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Max told her firmly; having found her, he wasn’t about to let her escape him now.

  Those dark brows rose mockingly. ‘To the women’s staff room?’

  He grimaced. ‘I’ll wait outside.’

  A look of irritation flickered briefly across her creamy brow at his obvious persistence. ‘Fine,’ she finally acknowledged tersely. ‘Give me a few minutes,’ she added lightly before going into the room clearly marked ‘Staff Only’.

  He wasn’t quite sure he could wait much longer to be alone with her. Patience had never been one of his virtues, even less so now it seemed.

  But as the minutes passed with no sign of her return it appeared he didn’t have much choice in the matter. Where the hell was she?

  ‘Can I be of any assistance?’ the manager—Peter Meridew?—paused to enquire politely.

  Max turned to him scowlingly, the memory of how this man had monopolized January’s company during her next—and only—break, still fresh in his mind. ‘Is there another way out of this room?’ he prompted hardly, more convinced than ever as the minutes passed that she had somehow managed to elude him.

  The other man glanced at the door, his brows raised in surprise as he turned back to Max. ‘Why, yes, there is,’ he answered slowly, obviously perplexed by a guest’s interest in what was clearly marked as a staff only room. ‘It opens out into the adjacent corridor, but— Is there anything I can do to help?’ the manager prompted at Max’s fierce scowl.

  ‘Not unless your name is January,’ Max muttered impatiently. ‘Which it clearly isn’t!’ he added frustratedly.

  Damn it, she had got away, he was sure of it, knew she had deliberately gone out of this staff room through another door.

  Why was he so surprised? a little voice taunted inside his head; he had come onto her so strongly earlier that he must have sounded like a bored businessman just looking for a female to share his bed for the night!

  And wasn’t that exactly what he was?

  No, it wasn’t, damn it! He already knew that one night with January simply wouldn’t be enough. And given a little more time in her company, he might have been able to convince her of that.

  Don’t be too sure of that, that little voice taunted again.

  ‘I’m sorry?’ The manager looked more confused than ever at Max’s mutterings. ‘Is January a friend of yours?’ the other man prompted tightly.

  Max drew in a deep, controlling breath, aware that January had left his table earlier as soon as she had been informed of the manager’s presence in the room. After all, what was the saying, ‘tomorrow is another day’…? And as, in this case, tomorrow was a Saturday, Max at least knew where she was going to be tomorrow evening…

  ‘Not yet,’ he answered the manager enigmatically. ‘By the way—’ he turned his full attention on the other man now, his smile at its most charming ‘—I would like to compliment you on the smooth and efficient running of your hotel. I travel all over the world on business, and this is definitely of a world-class standard.’

  The other man visibly preened at this effusive praise—as he was meant to do; the last thing Max wanted to do was make things difficult for January at her place of work. With any luck, Max’s words of praise would override any of this man’s previous curiosity as to Max’s interest in January.

  ‘It’s very kind of you to say so.’ The other man beamed.

  ‘Not at all,’ Max continued lightly. ‘It’s refreshing to stay at such an obviously well-managed hotel.’ Too effusive? Not if the other man’s flush of pleasure was anything to go by.

  ‘If you require any assistance during the remainder of your stay, please don’t hesitate to call on me personally,’ Peter Meridew told him in parting.

  Well, there was one happy man, at least, Max acknowledged ruefully as he watched the other man’s retreating back.

  Wishing that he could feel the same, Max sobered heavily, his earlier annoyance at what he was sure were January’s evasive tactics returning with a vengeance.

  But if she thought she would succeed in avoiding him for ever, she was in for a surprise.

  A big surprise!

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘MAY, what on earth is wrong with you today?’ January frowned concernedly at her eldest sister, May having dropped one of the plates as the three of them stood up to clear away after eating their dinner.

  May had been banging the pots and pans around serving the meal when January had come downstairs earlier, had been very quiet during dinner, only adding the odd grunt to the conversation between January and March as the three of them had eaten.

  The three sisters—May, twenty-seven; March, twenty-six, and January, twenty-five—were very alike to look at, all tall and dark-haired, with a creamy magnolia skin—although that tended to colour to a healthy tan during the summer months. Only their eyes were different, May’s green, March’s a mixture of green and grey, and January’s smoky grey.

  But May, being the eldest, had always been the calm, unruffled one, able to deal with any emergency. Something she certainly didn’t seem to be doing this evening!

  ‘Still tired from doing the pantomime?’ January sympathized.
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  Completely absorbed in the farm most of the time, May had found an outlet from that several years ago by joining the local drama group. They had put on the pantomime Aladdin in the small local theatre over the Christmas period, with May being given the leading role, traditionally played by a female. It had been tiring but fun, but had necessitated May being involved in evening and matinée performances over several days, as well as working on the farm.

  ‘If only it were that…’ May looked up now from picking up the pieces of broken plate. ‘We had a visitor today,’ she stated flatly.

  January instantly stiffened, wary of whom that ‘visitor’ might have been; she might have escaped from the intense Max the night before, but she doubted he was a man who cared to be fobbed off by anyone. Quite how he might have found out where she lived, she had no idea, but she doubted even that was beyond him…

  May’s green eyes swam with unshed tears as she straightened. ‘You remember that letter we had before Christmas? The one from that lawyer on behalf of some big American corporation? About buying the farm,’ she prompted as both March and January looked blank.

  ‘Of course we remember it. Damned cheek!’ March scorned as she grabbed some kitchen towel to wipe up the mess from the plate that had landed on the stone floor. ‘If we were interested in selling then we would have put the farm on the market.’ She threw the soiled towel deftly into the bin.

  ‘Yes,’ May sighed, sitting down heavily in a kitchen chair. ‘Well, the lawyer came in person to see us today. Or rather me, as I was the only one available at the time.’ She grimaced.

  January, as was her usual routine on the nights she was working, had been in bed most of the day, and March had been out making the most of the New Year’s Day public holiday as she had a job she went to from nine till five Monday to Saturdays usually. May was the only sister who worked full-time on their small hillside farm, who also did most of the cooking and cleaning, too. It wasn’t the most ideal arrangement, meant that they all effectively had two jobs, but the farm just wasn’t big enough to support all three sisters without the additional financial help of January’s and March’s outside employment.

  Their visitor obviously hadn’t been the intense Max, but January wasn’t sure she liked the sound of this particular visitor, either.

  ‘I thought it was all just some sort of joke.’ January frowned now as she could see just how upset her eldest sister was.

  May gave a humourless laugh. ‘This lawyer didn’t seem to think so,’ she muttered. ‘In fact, he went so far as to offer an absolutely ridiculous price for the farm.’ She scowled as she quoted the price.

  January gasped, March swallowed hard; all of them knew that the farm wasn’t worth anywhere near as much as the offer being made. Which posed the question, why was this lawyer offering so much for what was, after all, only forty acres of land, a few outbuildings, and a far from modern farmhouse?

  ‘What’s the catch?’ March prompted shrewdly.

  ‘Apart from immediate vacancy, there didn’t seem to be one,’ May answered slowly.

  ‘Apart from—! But we were all born here,’ January protested incredulously.

  ‘This is our home!’ March said at the same time.

  May gave the semblance of a smile. ‘I told him that. He didn’t seem impressed.’ She shrugged.

  ‘Probably because he lives in some exclusive penthouse apartment somewhere,’ March muttered disgruntledly. ‘He wouldn’t recognize a “home” if he were invited into one. You didn’t invite him in, I hope?’ she said sharply.

  May gave a firm shake of her head. ‘I was outside loading hay onto the trailer for feeding when he arrived. Once he had introduced himself, and his reason for being here, I made sure we stayed outside in the yard. His tailor-made suit certainly wasn’t suitable for visiting a hillside farm in January, and he got his highly polished handmade shoes all muddy, too,’ she added dryly.

  January laughed at her elder sister’s look of satisfaction. ‘And you sent him away with a flea in his ear, I hope!’

  ‘Mmm.’ May nodded, that frown back between clear green eyes. ‘But I have a distinct feeling he’ll be back.’

  ‘What’s it all about, do you think?’ January frowned her own concern.

  ‘Oh, that’s easy,’ March answered dismissively. ‘The same corporation this lawyer represents bought the Hanworth estate a couple of months ago for development of some kind. And with our farm smack in the middle of the Hanworth land…’ She shrugged. ‘I expect we’re rather in the way.’

  James Hanworth, the local equivalent of ‘squire’ the last fifty-five years, had died six months ago, leaving no wife or children to inherit his vast estate, just half a dozen distant relatives who had obviously decided to sell the place and divide the profits.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us that before?’ May turned to March impatiently. ‘No wonder they’re trying to buy us out!’ she added disgustedly.

  Yes, no wonder, January mentally agreed. But this farm had first belonged to her grandparents, and then her parents, and now the three sisters, and, although it was sometimes a struggle to financially survive, selling it wasn’t something any of them had ever considered. It was the only home they had ever known…

  She gave a glance at her wrist-watch. ‘Look, I have to get ready for work now, but we’ll talk about this further over breakfast in the morning, okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ May nodded ruefully.

  January reached out to give her sister’s arm a comforting squeeze. ‘No one can make us sell if we don’t want to.’

  ‘No,’ her eldest sister sighed. ‘But, stuck in the middle like this, they could make life very difficult for us if they choose to.’

  ‘Depends what sort of development they’re thinking of having,’ March put in thoughtfully. ‘I’ll check into that tomorrow and see what I can find out.’

  ‘Don’t get yourself into trouble over it,’ May warned in her concerned mother-hen way. As the eldest of the three sisters, having lost their mother when they were all very young, May had taken on the role of matriarch at a very early age, and after the death of their father the previous year she now took that role doubly seriously.

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’ March grinned dismissively, always the more reckless sister of the trio.

  ‘I’ll see you both in the morning,’ January told them laughingly, well accustomed to the battle of wills that often ensued between her cautious and more impetuous sisters.

  She hurried up the stairs to get herself ready for this evening, choosing another black dress this time, knee-length, with a low neckline and long black sleeves ending in a dramatic vee at her slender wrists. Her hair she pulled back with jewelled combs, leaving wispy tendrils against her creamy cheeks.

  It was slightly strange to lead these double lives, dressing glamorously for her role as a singer compared to the usual thick baggy jumpers, old denims and wellington boots when she was on the farm. Somehow the two didn’t seem compatible…

  It was troubling about the farm, though, she considered on her drive to the hotel. As March was only too keen to point out, no one could force them to sell if they didn’t want to—which they certainly didn’t. But what May had said was also true: life could be made very difficult for them if some sort of development completely surrounded their land and the farm.

  There were such things as right of way, and water rights, for one thing; James Hanworth had never troubled about such things, had accepted that the Calendar farm was adjacent to his, and that access and water were a necessary part of its success. Somehow January doubted the new owner—a corporation, no less—would be quite as magnanimous.

  It was testament to how troubling she found the situation that she hadn’t even given the man Max a second thought until she went into the almost deserted piano-bar and found him sitting there chatting to John, the barman!

  For some reason she had assumed Max would only be staying at the hotel the previous night. Erroneously, as it turned out.
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br />   ‘Ah, January.’ Max turned to look at her with mocking blue eyes as she went straight over to the piano to arrange her music for the evening. He strolled over to stand only feet away from her. ‘I believe there was some sort of confusion last night as to where we were to meet each other at the end of the evening?’

  He believed no such thing, knew very well that she had deliberately slipped away through another door in order to avoid meeting him.

  ‘Was there?’ January raised her head to look at him, her gaze steady—despite the fact that she felt an inner quiver of awareness at the physical impact of his attractiveness in the lounge suit and blue shirt.

  He really was a very attractive man, and January would be deceiving herself if she denied responding to that attraction. It was his sheer intensity of personality that she found a little overwhelming.

  ‘I like to think so.’ He smiled, a pulse-jumping, heart-stopping smile.

  As if to give lie to her wariness of his previous intensity… ‘Maybe we can do better this evening?’ he suggested mildly.

  He really was trying to lighten up, wasn’t he? January accepted with an inner amusement. But not hard enough to conceal the fact that he was still determined to spend time alone with her…

  ‘Perhaps,’ she returned noncommittally. ‘If you’ll excuse me? I have to start my first session,’ she added to take the bluntness out of her previous statement.

  ‘Of course,’ he accepted lightly, moving back slightly to allow her to seat herself at the piano, before bending forward, his mouth only inches from her ear. ‘You’re looking even more beautiful this evening than you did last night,’ he murmured huskily, the warmth of his breath stirring the tendrils of hair against her cheeks.

  January swallowed hard, tilting her head back slightly to look up into his face. A face still only mere inches away from hers… ‘Thank you,’ she accepted softly.