Mistress For Hire (Harlequin Presents)

by Angela Devine

  ‘Good. Then maybe it will win the Buller Prize and I can shoot off overseas without ever having to explain to Matt and my mother why I failed all my exams.’

  ‘Tim, that’s totally irresponsible. You can’t just go off without a word of explanation to Matt. Whatever else he may be, he’s been a good trustee to you. You owe him some kind of family loyalty.’

  ‘Cut it out, Lisa. You sound just like him. Responsibility! Loyalty! You’d make a good pair.’

  ‘No, we wouldn’t!’

  ‘Anyway, I’m not telling him and don’t you dare say a word, either, or I’ll murder you.’

  Lisa had little time to worry about Tim’s secrets the following day. She was too busy racing around in the kitchen. She did feel a few nervous flutters about the prospect of encountering Matt again, but he seemed to be deliberately staying out of her way. By the time the other family members began arriving at noon, the house was full of the delectable smell of roast turkey, baked potatoes, gravy and vegetables. Lisa was wearing a new dress of vivid, flame-coloured silk and had her hair tied back to show off her favourite gold earrings and necklace. All the same, for once in her life she was rather hoping to lurk in the background like Cinderella. But she should have known that Matt would insist on tormenting her. He arrived in the kitchen just as she was bending, red-faced and flustered, to baste the turkey. She almost dropped the basting spoon in her confusion at the sight of him. He was sprucely dressed in lightweight grey slacks and a short-sleeved, blue striped shirt, and his face wore the faintly mocking smile that she had disliked so much at their first encounter. He spoke as if the previous evening scene with Andrea had never happened.

  ‘Do you need any help there?’

  ‘No, thanks. I’ve nearly finished.’

  ‘Good. Then come and meet the rest of the family.’

  There seemed to be no escape, so Lisa snatched off her apron, tidied her hair and followed Matt with the expression of a martyr on her way to execution. When she found herself in the living room, she was pleasantly surprised by her reception. Of course, that was partly because Matt was busy being the perfect host in a way that made her long to kick him.

  ‘Lisa, let me introduce you to my mother, Patricia, my sister, Alison, and her husband, Brendan Courtney, and their kids, Steven and Hilary. Now, what can I get you to drink? Gin and tonic? Tim, there’s the doorbell again. You’re the closest, will you go?’

  There was a fresh round of introductions as a brown-haired woman in her mid-thirties arrived with two unruly boys of about nine and eleven. This must be Graham’s widow, thought Lisa, trying to place her in the family. I wonder if she always looks so gloomy? Never shy by nature, Lisa soon found herself in the middle of a milling, laughing group, although of course there were the usual irritations of any family Christmas. Helen was already complaining about the boy’s behaviour on the drive over, while Sonia was as acid as ever towards Lisa. But after her own erratic childhood, this gossiping, bickering, joking togetherness seemed oddly appealing. If only circumstances had been different, she would have thoroughly enjoyed herself.

  She stole a long, troubled look at Matt, who was discussing the share market with his brother-in-law. In spite of all the antagonism and mistrust between them, a familiar, hungry sense of yearning rose inside her. If only things had been different! If only Andrea and Justin hadn’t existed. If only Matt hadn’t treated them so badly. If only she and Tim hadn’t concocted their ridiculous deception! As if Matt felt her eyes on him, he suddenly glanced across at her and for a moment they seemed to be alone in the crowded room. The noise, the laughter, the chinking of glasses spun away and Lisa hung motionless in a void, unable to breathe, unable to do anything but gaze agonizingly at Matt. And then suddenly the spell broke. Colour rushed up into her face and she looked away in confusion, only to find Matt’s mother watching them both with a thoughtful expression.

  ‘E-excuse me,’ Lisa stammered. ‘I must go into the kitchen and see to the dinner.’

  The meal went well, everyone agreed on that. The turkey was crisp and brown, oozing with juices, the potatoes were done to perfection, the gravy was tasty and the Christmas pudding, cooked by Judy and reheated by Lisa, was delicious. Only the Brussels sprouts were rather underdone, but nobody complained about that, although Sonia and Helen both left their entire servings on their plates. Otherwise it was a complete success. By the time she was drinking coffee and port and eating far too many chocolates, Lisa felt a glow of triumph. She was really beginning to feel as if she belonged here.

  ‘We’re having a barbecue at our place tonight, Lisa,’ said Alison, leaning across the table. ‘The rest of the family’s all coming and we’d be glad if you could join us, too. I’m sure Matt will give you a ride up to Hobart.’

  Lisa, who had been on the point of accepting, flinched as if she had been stung. Ride alone with Matt? No, thank you!

  ‘That’s really kind of you, Alison,’ she said. ‘But I’m afraid I can’t. I’ll be going back to Melbourne as soon as I can get a flight and I’ve got a lot of packing to do.’

  The party began to break up and there was a lot of boisterous kissing under the mistletoe. Tim, who had been drinking champagne liberally, took the opportunity to annoy his mother by hauling Lisa into a passionate clinch.

  ‘Tim, there’s no need for such vulgar displays,’ said Sonia coldly.

  Tim winked and hugged Lisa even harder.

  ‘Oh, don’t forget she’s soon going to be a member of the family, Mum,’ he murmured.

  Sonia looked pained, Matt scowled and Patricia and Alison exchanged questioning glances at these cryptic words.

  ‘Matt, are you coming to our barbecue?’ broke in Alison.

  Matt shrugged. ‘I’m not sure,’ he growled, momentarily losing his bland manner. ‘Don’t count on it.’

  In the flurry as everyone climbed into their cars, Matt’s mother vanished into one of the bedrooms and eventually reappeared and put her arm through Lisa’s.

  ‘Tell me, Lisa,’ she said. ‘There were some Peace roses that I planted when I used to live here. Do you know if they’re still growing?’

  ‘Yes, and they’re absolutely beautiful,’ replied Lisa. ‘Shall I cut some for you to take home?’

  ‘If you would, dear.’

  She led Lisa off into the secluded corner of the garden where the roses grew and asked her a few questions about her background, saying how much she had enjoyed travelling in the United States herself and telling Lisa that she hoped to see her finished paintings of the Tasman Peninsula soon. Then she pressed a small, rather hastily wrapped package into Lisa’s hand.

  ‘A little present for you. It’s just something small I had with me, which I wrapped up rather badly in the paper from young William’s Nintendo. Matt didn’t warn me that you were going to be here, or I would have had a proper gift for you.’ She gave an exasperated sigh. ‘That’s so like him, I’m afraid! He’s the dearest man, honest, reliable and loyal, but he’s always been dreadfully secretive. Still, I expect there will be other Christmases. Perhaps you’ll come and visit me at my home in St Helens one of these days. Well, goodbye, my dear.’

  She leaned forward and kissed Lisa on the cheek.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Lisa warmly. ‘It’s really kind of you.’

  She didn’t realize just how kind it was until she and Matt had finished waving off the guests and were finally left alone in awkward silence.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Matt, gesturing to the tiny package in her hand.

  ‘It’s a gift from your mother. She said it was just something small she had with her.’

  ‘Why don’t you open it?’ he demanded.

  Lisa did and was appalled. She let out a low gasp.

  ‘Oh, no! I can’t possibly take this. It’s much too beautiful and expensive. Oh, Matt, look, it’s a Tiffany, isn’t it?’

  She held up the watch made of gold and inlaid with a pattern of lapis lazuli. Matt looked amused.

  ‘Yes, it�
��s Tiffany,’ he confirmed. ‘She was wearing it when she arrived here. She must have taken it off to give it to you. And she’s written you a note, as well. What does that say?’

  Lisa opened the hastily scrawled card, scanned through it and groaned. This was even worse!

  Dear Lisa,

  Tim dropped a rather broad hint that you and Matt will be marrying soon and I must tell you I’ll be delighted to welcome you as my daughter-in-law if that happens. I saw from the way you looked at my son how much in love with him you are, although there also seemed to be some trouble between you. Don’t let a silly misunderstanding spoil your happiness, I beg you. Make up the difference, whatever it is. Robert and I had so many quarrels, but so many joyful years together. I wish you both the same.

  With love,

  Patricia Lansdon

  A wave of embarrassment and dismay swept over Lisa. No wonder Matt’s mother had given her the valuable watch as a present—she thought she was her future daughter-in-law!

  ‘She’s got it all wrong,’ she exclaimed half hysterically. ‘She’s completely misunderstood what’s going on here! You must give this back to her.’

  She tried to thrust the watch at him, but instead of taking it he plucked the note out of her hand.

  ‘Matt, you can’t—’ she began indignantly.

  He ignored her protests and read it through. A brooding expression came into his face.

  ‘Do you really think she’s completely misunderstood?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve always thought my mother was a very perceptive woman. Lisa, I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to tell me the truth. Are you in love with me?’

  Lisa stared at him in torment.

  ‘No! No, I’m not. I won’t be, I won’t! I don’t want to be.’

  He caught her in his arms and buried his face in her hair.

  ‘It’s not a crime, my love,’ he said thickly. ‘These things happen. I suppose you thought you could marry Tim for security and then found yourself falling in love with me. But don’t fight it, my darling. It’s right, it’s natural. It’s something you should be glorying in. Something we should both be glorying in.’

  He kissed her urgently, so that Lisa’s head swam at the nearness of him, his spicy, masculine smell, the thrilling pressure of his arms around her. Dizzily she kissed him back, glad that he was supporting her since her legs felt ready to buckle beneath her. Then belatedly she realized how crazy this was and began to struggle against him.

  ‘No, Matt, don’t!’ she cried, trying to twist free and extricate herself. Her breath was coming in sobbing gasps as if she had been running a marathon. ‘We can’t do this. There are too many obstacles in our way.’

  ‘Tim?’ he demanded with a scornful laugh. ‘You’re not going to marry Tim, Lisa. I won’t stand for it. I’ll find a way of stopping you.’

  ‘No, not Tim! What’s he got to do with it? I meant Andrea!’

  Matt’s face was suddenly as stern and cold as a mask. He seized her by the shoulder, gripping her so hard that she cried out.

  ‘Is that what this is about?’ he demanded, thrusting his face close to hers. ‘About Andrea?’

  She nodded mutely and was shocked when he swore under his breath. With a dazed gesture he raised his hand and ran his fingers through his hair then suddenly his eyes focused on hers as sharp and burning as lasers.

  ‘Lisa, trust me!’ he urged. ‘There is nothing, absolutely nothing between Andrea and me that should cause you a moment’s anxiety or guilt. She thinks she’s in love with me, but it’s pure moonshine and I haven’t seduced her or abandoned her, whatever you may think. Do you believe me?’

  Lisa stared at him in torment, unsure of whether she could trust him. This wasn’t an explanation, just an arrogant demand that she should have blind faith in him. Unhappily she opened her mouth to protest and then paused. Her heart gave an uncomfortable lurch as she realized she did have blind faith in him.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ she said in an odd, wondering voice. ‘I don’t understand what’s going on, but I do believe you.’

  He gave a growl of triumph low in his throat and hauled her into another crushing embrace.

  ‘Oh, Lisa, Lisa,’ he muttered. ‘That’s all I needed to know. We can sort out all our other problems and nothing else matters. Nothing except that we’ve found each other and we can give each other so much.’

  His kisses rained on her eyelids, her nose, her throat, so that she found herself blinking and gasping, halfway between laughter and tears. Then suddenly he caught her by the arm and began to lead her towards the house.

  ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked breathlessly.

  ‘I think you know that. His voice was nothing but a smoky, seductive vibration. ‘I’m going to make love to you, Lisa, and I hope you’re not expecting much sleep tonight.’

  She had never been in Matt’s bedroom before and a tremor of shyness went through her as they came through the doorway. But Matt was so confident, so warm, so protective beside her that her doubts vanished. As he shut the door behind her, she looked around at the carved, four-poster bed with its plaid cover, at the antique furniture and the lace-covered bedside table, lit by a slanting ray of afternoon sun. A hesitant smile curved her lips.

  ‘It’s a beautiful room,’ she whispered unsteadily, wondering if he could hear the way her heart was thudding against her ribs.

  ‘A beautiful room for a beautiful woman,’ he replied, taking both her hands between his as if he intended to warm them.

  Lisa felt a sudden, irregular pressure in her palm and looked down. She uttered a soft exclamation of surprise as she realized she was still holding his mother’s watch.

  ‘I don’t think you need that, do you?’ murmured Matt, taking it from her and putting it on the bedside table. ‘Or this. Or this. Or these.’

  As he spoke he was calmly unfastening her necklace, her dress, her shoes. Lisa found herself sitting on the bed, wearing only a jade silk teddy, while Matt appreciatively peeled off her knickers and tights. Then he began kissing her, starting at her feet and working up her legs.

  ‘Ooh, unfair,’ she sighed, wriggling joyously under his touch. You’re still dressed.’

  ‘Well, have another Christmas present,’ suggested Matt wickedly. ‘Unwrap me.’

  She obeyed, although her fingers were not quite steady when it came to undoing his shirt and sliding her hands inside to feel his warm, muscular solar plexus. And it was even worse—or better—when she came to undo his belt and the zip of his trousers. In that instant when she saw him naked and fully aroused, her playfulness vanished and was replaced by a dark, throbbing urgency.

  ‘Oh, Matt,’ she breathed.

  They were standing naked next to the bed and he drew her against him, running his hands over her firm flesh, caressing and exploring every inch of her. Her eyes closed in rapture as his kisses came down over her eyebrows and cheek and across the corner of her lips to the full, ripe centre of her mouth. He kissed her more and more deeply, until they were fused together, their tongues quivering, as a more urgent need overtook them. Lisa felt a dark heat begin to uncoil and pulse deep inside her, and when Matt’s hand strayed down and began to stroke her teasingly, she moaned and pressed herself against him. He guided her hand to touch his swollen hardness and she heard him gasp and felt him give a rigid, involuntary shudder of pleasure. An intoxicating sense of power swept over her at the realization that she, too, could make him quiver and sigh and grow tense with desire. Keeping her body pressed against him, she began to sink slowly downwards, wriggling voluptuously so that he felt her breasts and her tossing, luxuriant hair and at last the warm, moist provocation of her mouth upon him.

  ‘Oh, Lisa, you wanton little sex goddess,’ he moaned. ‘Are you trying to drive me insane? Two can play at that game, you know.’

  Gripping her by the hair, he hauled her upright again, treated her to a long, deep, demanding kiss and then lifted her off her feet and dumped her on the bed. After that, with a merciless a
nd utterly blissful thoroughness, he proceeded to show her what he meant. She was aware only of heat, closeness, the rhythmic, maddening, enthralling exploration of each other’s bodies. Then a strange sensation began to gather and mass somewhere deep inside her, until she lost all sense of her own separateness and uttered a stifled whimper as wave after wave of ecstatic convulsions shook her to the core.

  ‘Did you enjoy that, my love?’ murmured Matt hoarsely. ‘Well, there’s more to come.’

  Still shuddering, with her breath coming in fast, shallow gulps, Lisa found herself crushed into the mattress with his full, hard weight upon her. She inhaled deeply, loving the salty aroma of his skin, the rough hairs on his chest, the grip of his powerful muscles, the length and hardness of him. Loving him. As he lodged himself against her and then drove joyfully inside, her body arched to meet him and she lifted her lips to his cheek, offering small, fluttering kisses until his mouth claimed hers. Their union went on and on. A vigorous, pounding rhythm that fulfilled her utterly so that she smiled mistily up at him, feeling that she wanted to cry. I love you, she thought. I want you to do this to me for years and years and give me babies and have breakfast with me in the mornings and quarrel with me over silly things and love me and love me. And never…ever…leave me.

  His eyes were dark and strange and full of secrets, but she sensed the same primitive emotions surging through him. He could not look at her with that intense, brooding possessiveness if he did not love her, could he? And he could not kiss her so fiercely and so tenderly? Or thread his fingers through her hair and frame her face? Or give those deep, labouring sighs as if he could scarcely bear the urgent emotion she aroused in him? Could he? Unless he loved her? Suddenly he caught his breath and stiffened. Then with a low, primal cry he drove deep inside her one final time.

  ‘Oh, Matt, I love you,’ she breathed.

  He collapsed, sweating and shuddering on top of her, making no reply except to hug her more fiercely against him. But he loved her, too. She was sure of it. A transfiguring joy flooded through her as she nuzzled his face. He hadn’t said anything yet about marriage, but Matt Lansdon was a serious, conservative person. Knowing how she felt about him, wouldn’t he want to make this union as solemn and binding as possible? Thoughts of white lace and Mendelssohn’s wedding march drifted through Lisa’s head and she fell asleep.