The Accidental Mistress

by Sophie Weston

  Hang on to that, Izzy.

  She pulled herself together. ‘I forget a lot of men,’ she said coolly.

  The nice woman who had explained the safety procedures gave a crack of laughter. Clearly she knew Dominic Templeton-Burke rather well. Maybe another of his ex-lovers, thought Izzy sourly.

  ‘One in the eye for you, Dom,’ said the nice woman cheerfully.

  He laughed. Well, he had to, didn’t he? But the look he gave Izzy was thoughtful.

  Izzy pretended not to notice. If his ego couldn’t take it—tough! She ignored him pointedly. ‘Is that all?’

  The woman pushed a form at her. ‘Sign here. Then we’ll get you both into the harness and take you up.’

  Izzy signed. Dominic Templeton-Burke still did not take his eyes off her. She could feel his gaze, even though she did not look at him.

  Oh, Lord, this was bad. Was there unfinished business between him and Jemima? Something, certainly. Some argument that he had taken personally? He was looking at her as narrowly as a police witness trying to pick a criminal out of a line up.

  Could things get any worse?

  Izzy swallowed hard. She had to get his gaze off her face. It was just too keen, too alert.

  Flirtatiously, she shook back her long shining red hair. She had never felt less flirtatious in her life. But the hair was what people remembered. It was like a cape of shimmering silk, an unbelievable colour, unbelievably soft. It was the hair of a Renaissance beauty.

  Izzy knew that. She had read the press files. This morning it gleamed in the sun like flame, like wine. This morning it almost looked like Jemima’s instead of ratty old Izzy’s red mop.

  She had worked hard on the hair. She was proud of it. If he could be distracted by the hair he might not notice that she was too tall, too heavy and too freckled to be Jemima.

  ‘Okay. I’m ready,’ she said, feeling the hair float about her bare shoulders.

  He had to be looking at her hair.

  He was. He came right up behind her. She felt his hand on the back of her waist. Then her nape. He was gathering up her hair in one hand. She thought she could feel his breath on the exposed skin. Did his hand linger?

  Oh, yes, she had distracted him all right.

  Through a mist of unwelcome sensation, Izzy tried hard to congratulate herself. It was a good strategy, she told herself feverishly. As long as he was looking at her through a fog of lust he wasn’t going to start making comparisons and uncover her secret.

  The trouble was, it had its drawbacks. The fog of lust seemed to be travelling. It wasn’t just Dominic who was being distracted. Unexpectedly, she gave a little shiver of pure physical sensation.

  Damn!

  Dominic Templeton-Burke said in a cool voice, ‘I suggest you plait this. If it gets caught on the harness it will really make your eyes water.’

  Izzy could have screamed. She twitched her hair out of his grasp and stepped away.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said arctically. But her body was not arctic. Not arctic at all.

  Somewhere in the normal world, nice Sandy was agreeing with him. ‘Good point, Dom. Do you want an elastic band, Ms Dare?’

  Dom gave another of those snorts of private laughter. He obviously thought that model-girl hair needed a lot more pampering than a simple elastic band. For some reason that made her want to dance and scream with frustration. How dared he patronise her—well, Jemima—no, both of them—like that?

  Dislike was altogether too mild a word. Izzy decided she hated him.

  She gritted her teeth and decided to focus on practical matters instead of the alluring prospect of pushing Dominic Templeton-Burke into the river.

  ‘That’s okay, thanks,’ she told Sandy curtly. ‘I can handle it.’

  She had some of her own long pins in her bag. Jemima wouldn’t use them at any price. She said they broke the hair. But Izzy always used them whenever she put her hair up. Now she twisted the shining mass into a rapid rope and pinned it in place with a couple of savage jabs.

  All the time, Dom watched her unwinkingly. She knew it. She could feel it, even when she wasn’t actually looking at him.

  He said casually, ‘How long have you supported the one-parent whale?’

  Izzy nearly dropped a pin. ‘What?’

  His smile widened. Not pleasantly. ‘You don’t even know what charity this is for, do you?’

  She could not deny it.

  He said suddenly, ‘What’s happened to you, Jemmy?’

  Jemmy? Jemmy? Nobody called her sister Jemmy. Was it a private name? Lover’s code for, I love you, you’re mine, nobody knows you like I do?

  Izzy went cold. Oh God, it was true! They had to be lovers. Well, have been lovers. Jemima had been travelling too much these last few months for any relationship to survive.

  How long had it been going on? And why on earth had her sister not told her? A little chill of sadness struck. How well did she know Jemima these days, after all?

  She stopped fussing with her hair and stared at him, frowning.

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t remember you being this hungry for publicity, babe.’ And he touched her cheek fleetingly.

  Fleetingly, but it might as well have been a bolt of lightning. Izzy’s breath caught in her throat. For a wild moment she thought, I can’t breathe!

  And then, Is that he does to Jemima? Does he make her stop breathing, too? And does he know? And, if so, who broke up with whom? And how does he feel about it? Does he want to throw me off that crane for revenge?

  And then, What if I’ve got it wrong and they haven’t broken up?

  He-el—lp!

  Dominic gave her an easy smile. ‘Hey, don’t look like that, babe. What’s the worst that can happen?’

  Izzy moistened her suddenly dry lips. ‘I don’t know,’ she said with feeling. ‘You tell me.’

  He obviously thought it was the height that bothered her.

  ‘You scream. I carry you back to earth. We both get our pictures in the paper.’ He sounded infuriatingly unperturbed by this scenario.

  Izzy pulled herself together. ‘And then I die of shame,’ she retorted. ‘Oh, well, I suppose I can always run away to sea.’

  ‘Practical,’ he said approvingly.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say, I’m always practical, but she reined it in just in time. Because if he and Jemima were ex-lovers, he must know that, spectacular, charming and sexy as she undoubtedly was, Jemima Dare was the ditziest woman in England. Or he would if he had ever bothered to think about her. But maybe he didn’t. Maybe it was all lust for Jemima the gorgeous siren, and he didn’t care what she was like inside.

  Let’s hope so, thought Izzy, setting her teeth.

  ‘Let’s go jump,’ she said curtly.

  They were each weighed again; the harness was attached and tested briefly. Dominic ran the rope through his hands, tugging it professionally in various directions. As the cage creaked and swayed up the crane to the jump point he inspected the buckles of the harness with meticulous care.

  Then he shocked Izzy into rigidity by putting his arm round her.

  ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, as if he had stabbed her.

  He looked down at her, mildly surprised.

  She knew why, too. It was not a sexual touch. Barely even a friendly one. It was as clinical as if he were testing her dimensions to ship her across a ravine. But she still recoiled like a wounded duellist.

  ‘Hey. Relax.’

  ‘I’m relaxed. I’m relaxed,’ muttered Izzy with determination. She tried to tell herself that it was true. But she stood under his hands as stiff as the scaffolding that surrounded them.

  Dominic was clearly amused. ‘You’re going to have to hang onto me when we jump. You might just as well start now.’

  That shook her out of her frozen awareness. ‘What?’

  He looked down at her, the grey eyes glinting devilishly. ‘That’s the point of jumping together. Didn’t they explain that?’

  ‘N-no.’<
br />
  His eyes danced. ‘Someone has blundered,’ he said in mock outrage.

  ‘You can say that again.’

  ‘We can always turn round and go back down again. Want to?’

  It was a temptation. Oh, boy, was it a temptation. But Izzy knew what would happen if she chickened out now. Instead of the few column inches in obscure corners of tomorrow’s papers, she’d get some serious publicity. She could just see the headlines: ‘Missing Model Seeks Treatment’. Jemima needed that like she needed a hole in her head.

  Just a few more hours, she told herself. Just finish this and it’s over. You’re a free woman by lunchtime.

  She swallowed. ‘No. Now we’re on the way I’ll do whatever it takes.’

  ‘Good girl,’ he said, surprising her.

  The cage lurched to a halt and he ushered her out onto the jump platform. The other people up there were pleasant but preoccupied. They talked to Dom as an equal. But to her they were kind and faintly patronising. Izzy had the sensation of being an unimportant piece of baggage in the middle of a professional operation.

  She hugged her arms round herself. The morning was bright with sunshine but it was all she could do not to start shivering uncontrollably. And it was nothing to do with the height of the platform, although below them the Thames looked like a river on a toy farm. It was the thought of being held by Dominic Templeton-Burke as they launched themselves into space.

  Izzy watched covertly as he discussed winds and air pressure. He was gorgeous. He was a danger to Jemima. He was her nightmare.

  And he made her tremble like a schoolgirl.

  Great! The one man in the world she had to play like a professional was turning out to be the one man in the world she wasn’t sure she could deal with. And already he was suspicious, she knew.

  Oh, well, she would have to try to pretend it was all sex and astonishment. Maybe he would buy that. And she’d have to get away from him after the jump with the speed of Superman.

  He stepped back from the edge. ‘Ready?’

  Izzy remembered why they were there and her stomach lurched. No.

  She clenched her teeth until her jaw ached. ‘Yes,’ she said aloud.

  He threw his arms wide. ‘Then come into my arms.’

  Izzy gave a snort of pure exasperation. ‘Oh, pu-lease!’

  His eyes laughed at her. ‘This is no time to turn skittish on me, my love.’

  She couldn’t help herself. Those jumpy instincts of hers! ‘I’m not your love,’ she said, before she could stop herself.

  He chuckled. ‘Yes, you are. For the day, anyway. The guys down there are waiting for the full airborne embrace.’

  The trouble was, she knew he was right. On the riverbank below them the photographers were focussing their zoom lenses for all they were worth. It did not make her like Dominic Templeton-Burke any more, but she knew her duty. She pulled herself together and managed a wide, false smile.

  ‘You’re so romantic,’ she told him sarcastically.

  She waved jauntily at the watchers, hundreds of feet below. And stepped into his embrace.

  For a moment she was shockingly aware of the heat of his body, the beat of blood—his, hers—the odd jingle of the harness, voices, hands…As if it was all happening to someone else, she listened to the last repeat of the instructions, nodded her understanding, did what she was told.

  Tried not to shake.

  ‘You wanted poetry. Come to the edge,’ Dom said, with a ghost of a laugh.

  Poetry. Poetry? His hands were warm on her shoulderblades.

  Memory flickered. ‘What are you talking about?’ said Izzy, suspiciously.

  ‘You know. If you think about it.’

  Oh, God, this was more of that secret lovers’ language! Izzy was so wretched that she nearly fell off that precarious platform without waiting for the instruction to go. She did not actually miss her footing, but for a moment her head swam and she clutched at him in pure reflex.

  So much for her determination not to get too close! It made her groan.

  ‘This is one crazy day.’

  ‘And it’s only just started,’ he said in congratulatory tones.

  Izzy’s stomach lurched. She was not afraid of heights, or the bungee jump. But just the thought of spending one more moment with Dominic than was strictly necessary turned her blood to ice.

  ‘Oh, help!’

  He misunderstood. He laughed, not unkindly.

  ‘It’s not as bad as it looks.’

  ‘You have no idea,’ said Izzy unwarily.

  His hands moved on her back. Was he stroking her?

  His voice was odiously reassuring. ‘Stick with me; I’ll see you through. Trust me.’

  Izzy had no option. She had to look at the laughing renegade six inches from her nose. Her heart did a back flip and sank to her sequinned trainers. Idiot, idiot, idiot, she thought, for the twentieth time that day.

  Aloud she said, ‘I can’t do it.’

  It was pure panic. She made no attempt to hide it. What was the point?

  The renegade laughed. ‘I can.’

  Izzy moaned.

  He held her closer. ‘Think about one-parent whales. That ought to do it.’

  Izzy stopped moaning. She pushed herself back in his embrace and glared up at him. ‘Thank you very much for your support.’

  He laughed, not quite so kindly. ‘You got yourself into this. I’ll get you out of it—but at a price.’

  ‘A price?’

  ‘We’ll talk about that later. For now, just close your eyes and trust me.’

  Izzy swallowed. ‘Do I have a choice?’

  He shook his head. He was laughing but oh, boy, that determination!

  ‘Come fly with me,’ said Dominic Templeton-Burke, grinning.

  Izzy shuddered.

  ‘And afterwards I’ll buy you a hamburger and we can discuss poets.’

  Izzy decided that she was going to hate him for the rest of her life, without any difficulty at all. But she was not going to let him see how feeble she felt inside. Not any more.

  She squinted up at him and plastered on a bright, bright smile.

  ‘I look forward to it,’ she said, planning her getaway the moment she hit the ground.

  ‘Then let’s do this thing.’

  They stepped to the edge of the platform in careful concurrence. His arms about her were hard. They felt stronger than any harness.

  Startled, Izzy thought, He will keep me safe.

  He said, ‘Now.’

  She said, ‘No, not yet. Let me—’

  But he moved. She was locked to his body.

  He said urgently, ‘Don’t think about the drop. Think about me.’

  He kissed her hard.

  And the bottom fell out of the world.

  CHAPTER SIX

  TOGETHER, they were shooting down, down, down…

  This is where I’m supposed to scream, thought Izzy. But his mouth cut off all sound; damn nearly all thought.

  Okay, in his combats and shades he was the man out of her every nightmare. But she knew this kiss, these arms. He was the man from her night of fantasy as well.

  How could she ever have wondered whether he was real? What figment of imagination had muscles like that? Kissed like this?

  He was real. He was a danger. He was almost certainly Jemima’s.

  But just for the moment he was all hers and he kissed like a dream. Even in mid air, while they bounced like a pair of delinquent babies, her whole being responded to that kiss.

  Oh, wow. Oh, hell. Oh, heaven.

  ‘That was great,’ enthused Josh when they got to the ground again.

  Izzy didn’t say anything. Her legs felt as if they did not belong to her and she suspected that she was white as a sheet. She just hoped they would put it down to reaction to the jump.

  ‘Terrific shot,’ agreed one of the photographers. He looked from her to Dominic speculatively. ‘Know each other well?’

  Izzy swallowed, and was almo
st grateful when Dominic fielded it neatly.

  ‘We do now,’ he said with a grin.

  But the enquirer was persistent. ‘You’re close?’

  ‘You couldn’t get a paperclip between us,’ said Dominic solemnly.

  A couple of the photographers chuckled but the questioner was not deflected.

  ‘Come on—give. You guys an item now?’

  Dominic put an arm round her shoulders. Izzy twitched. But the pressure was a warning rather than imminent seduction, and she knew it. She stayed quiet. It was out of character. But it seemed to be her day for behaving out of character, thought Izzy.

  Day? Make that fortnight! She hadn’t picked up a man on the dance floor since she was a teenager. Oh, she pulled, right enough. People did. You had a dance, a drink, maybe a chat with his friends and hers. You exchanged phone numbers. You checked each other out. And if the attraction was still there the next day, and he wasn’t a creep, you went out with him.

  She had never gone home with a total stranger. Oh, yes, this was her time for going out of character all right!

  Dominic was saying easily, ‘You know me and girlfriends! It would be nice to get that lucky.’

  There was a comradely laugh. Someone shouted a friendly encouragement. Dominic kept his arm right where it was and squeezed. It must have looked like the last word in casual, sexy sophistication.

  Izzy gritted her teeth and smiled for the camera. But inside she felt hollow. I’m not sexy, I’m not sophisticated and I sure as hell am not casual, she thought. What on earth am I going to do about this?

  He gave her another friendly squeeze. ‘Come on, kid. Let’s get the harness off.’

  She nodded. She even managed a friendly wave as she followed Dominic into the hut. Nobody would be able to tell that she was still cold with shock, she thought. Not even Dominic.

  She shook back her hair with a bright smile. Hey, she could act a whole lot better than she’d ever realised, thought Izzy. She tried to take comfort from her unsuspected acting skills. But even that didn’t really penetrate the force field of shock that surrounded her.

  In the hut, she fumbled with the harness and could not move it.