Mistress: At What Price?

by Anne Oliver

‘Not a good idea.’ She paused at the door. Only then did she face him, and her eyes were unreadable. Her compressed lips, however, told a story. She forced them into something approaching a smile when she saw him looking at them and said, ‘We’d spend all night keeping each other awake and I’m totally knackered. Goodnight, Dane.’

  He sat for a long time, staring at the darkened doorway. He could hear her moving about in her room, could still smell her fragrance on the air. How the hell was he going to get back to normal without her when this was over?

  CHAPTER NINE

  MARIEL plopped face down onto her bed. She deserved an Academy Award for that performance, but she was pretty sure he’d bought it. Except for the fatal way she’d nibbled her lips. He’d seen it. Damn, he knew her too well.

  Holding her pillow to her chest, she rolled over and stared up at the darkness. She’d managed to keep her tone as blasé as his. That was what it was all about, after all.

  Her mouth twisted with grim humour. So she’d downplayed the intensity she knew they both felt by purposely bringing it up in conversation. He’d bought it, hadn’t he? She needed to keep up the façade because that was what they’d agreed on.

  Besides, she tried to tell herself, they’d never make it as a couple. They’d never see eye-to-eye on any damn thing—from personal appearance and TV shows to family and kids. Or commitment.

  She also needed to make it clear they weren’t going to do overnighters. If he saw her before she was wide awake she’d be vulnerable, and he’d see through her as easy as glass. It would be far too dangerous, because she was falling. Out-of-control falling.

  Her heart seemed to curl in on itself; her fingers clenched against her pillow. Time for honesty, she decided. She’d already fallen. Head over heels. Big-time. All the way. She was in love with Dane. Always had been.

  Now she knew every intimate inch of his body, knew the sounds he made in passion, the feel of him deep inside her. Friends would never be enough, and ‘lovers’ was a temporary arrangement.

  She sent her pillow sailing through the air, heard it slump heavily against the dark antique wardrobe.

  But it was done now. And it was vital that she keep up the charade, that he never knew what she felt deep in her soul, because that would put him in an impossible situation. He didn’t want permanency. He’d want to get back to his free lifestyle and bosomy blondes.

  The bastard.

  So she’d keep it light and easy. She’d make the most of the time they had and then…and then she’d walk away with the memories even if she walked away without her heart.

  The following morning she kept to her plan. It wasn’t as hard as she’d anticipated because Dane was in a hurry. He didn’t stop for breakfast, grabbing a coffee on the run. But he did kiss her goodbye at the front door. A toe-curling kiss that went on and on and on, until the driver of the chauffeured limo waiting at the kerb to take Dane to the airport coughed discreetly.

  Dane lifted his head and searched her face for a long moment. The early-morning sun struck his hair with gold, and heat blazed in his eyes, searing her cheeks. ‘Tonight,’ he promised.

  She shook her head. ‘You’ll miss your flight.’ It occurred to her then that they were saying goodbye as if they were a married couple, and she backed away, unsettled. ‘Have a safe trip.’

  ‘I’ll call you.’

  Blowing him a breezy kiss, she turned and walked back inside. Already she couldn’t wait to see him again. To hear his voice again. To feel his body against hers again.

  It felt odd, walking through his house alone. A reminder that she was here only because they’d agreed it was the best way. It was vital she keep those impatient wants in perspective, because she couldn’t afford to want him this much.

  If it were possible, their sexual relationship grew in intensity over the coming week. Because she wanted to work—and because she privately worried that they were becoming too close—Dane went about his business during the day and they only met up again in the evenings.

  If he had a function to attend, she accompanied him. The press followed. They were a popular couple in the society pages. Speculation in the media mounted as to how long Dane would remain Bachelor of the Year, but he refused any interviews that involved talking about Mariel, insisting again that they were ‘just good friends’. Nor did he give Mariel any indication that his status as bachelor might change.

  They shared quiet evenings at home, took a moonlit walk on the beach late one evening after a particularly hot day, relaxed by the pool. Doing ordinary things couples did.

  And every night, they came together with a passion that gave no indication of slowing down or fading. A love affair, she told herself.

  And affairs ended.

  But they cared about each other, respected each other. She refused to think beyond each day, determined to enjoy it while it lasted.

  Mariel learned that Dane owned a string of buildings within the central business district. There were tenants to deal with, a minor plumbing emergency, renovations to approve. He made preparations for his upcoming Outback trip. It seemed he’d purposely filled his life with distractions to keep him busy.

  And it bothered her that he’d turned his back on the only family he had. She lay in bed one night, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. She knew they’d had their problems in the past, but the remorse in his father’s eyes on the night of the ball had convinced her there was hope, if only she could get Dane to see it.

  Slipping out of bed, she grabbed her robe and padded downstairs. She poured herself a glass of milk, then carried it outside into the fragrant night air. Moonlight bathed the high stone walls and the luxury enclosed within. She turned to study the heritage building that was Dane’s home.

  Dane was a proud man, bordering on arrogant. Independent. Stubborn. Too damn stubborn to admit he might be as fallible as any other mere mortal. Everyone needed family, even Dane. She sensed that deep down he was a little boy, still yearning for that connection.

  So he had women, acquaintances, business associates, but when things fell apart or tragedy struck, what then? If she could do one thing for him, it would be to try to reunite father and son.

  ‘What are you doing out here?’

  Startled out of her thoughts, she turned to see Dane standing in the doorway, a pair of loose boxers low on his hips. ‘Thinking.’ She walked towards him, pressed her head against his chest, listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady in her ear. ‘Just thinking.’

  ‘I can’t sleep either.’ His arms slid around her waist. They were silent a moment, while the crickets chirped around them and something rustled in the bushes.

  Dane was relearning how to sense her moods, the way he had when they’d been younger, but tonight…What had brought her outside in the middle of the night? Had he upset her in some way? No. Mariel wasn’t backwards in coming forwards. If she had a problem with him she’d let him know. So he laid his head against her bed-mussed hair and just held her.

  She felt deeply, he thought, his hands wandering over the silken robe to absorb her body heat. Unlike the women who’d shared his bed over the years. Or perhaps he’d never known them long enough, or cared enough, to notice. No, that wasn’t quite true. He’d had relationships that had lasted as long, if not longer, than this current relationship with Mariel. But this was different. Almost as if they’d become more than lovers.

  No. He couldn’t do that. Not to Mariel. He didn’t want to hurt her. Would not hurt her. She meant too much, she was too important. Possibly the most important person in his life. He’d do anything to spare her the pain of falling for a man who couldn’t commit. Which meant keeping to the same path they’d started out on. Smooth, level. Practical.

  She shifted and relaxed against him. He squeezed her shoulders before taking her inside.

  From behind the glass doors overlooking the pool Dane watched the low-slung canary-yellow sports car pull up under the carport beside his Porsche.

  It was Sunday after
noon, the day before he was due to fly north. He’d be away for a week. Mariel had told him she had a surprise, and had made him promise to be home and not to argue with her when she got back.

  The driver’s door opened and he was treated to the mouth-watering sight of yellow stiletto sandals. As they touched the ground he noted that the sandals were attached to long shapely legs. No argument there. White-frosted toenails peeked out from beneath the straps and sparkly bits arched over her ankles.

  Mariel climbed out, her dark hair tied back with a yellow ribbon. It looked as if she’d chosen the car to accessorise another neat little sundress, and it occurred to him that not many months ago maybe she would have.

  He admired the shape of her bottom as she leaned over the back seat, then straightened with a box from the Chocolate Choices shop in her hands. Couldn’t argue with that either.

  She looked as delicate and deliciously cool as a slice of lemon meringue pie. Heat stirred deep in his loins and a primal growl rose up his throat.

  Until the passenger door opened and his father climbed out.

  The gut-punch knocked him back a step. Good God, what the hell was she doing? His body tensed as he watched Mariel walk with his father towards the door where Dane stood, hand frozen on the door catch. A ball of something thick and hard crawled up his throat. Straightening, he slid the door open before she reached it.

  ‘Dane,’ Mariel said before he could get a word out. Nerves flitted across her eyes. ‘I’ve brought your dad to town. I know how much you both like chess and…thought you could get reacquainted over a game.’

  His gaze swung from Mariel to his father. ‘Dad.’

  His father stopped an arm’s length away. ‘Hello, Dane. Mariel invited me, but if you want she’ll drive me straight home again.’

  Avoiding her gaze, Dane was tempted to tell her to do just that. He flexed his fingers. ‘You’re here now.’

  There was anguish in his eyes, Dane knew, because there was empathy and understanding in Mariel’s when he finally looked. He felt as if she’d stripped away his pride and confidence and left him naked.

  He gestured stiffly to the sofa. ‘What are you drinking these days?’

  ‘I’ll have a beer, if you’ve got one, thanks.’

  Mariel switched on a CD. Light music filled the room. She slipped past Dane with an, ‘Okay, then, I’ll leave you two to—’

  ‘Not so fast.’ Dane grabbed her arm and practically frog-marched her to the adjacent kitchen. As soon as they were out of earshot he spun her to face him. Her eyes were moist. And angry.

  She was angry? ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he demanded, his voice killingly low.

  ‘I’m thinking about you, Dane.’ She set her box of chocolate goodies on the counter. ‘Your father needs you, and whether you know it or not you need him. I thought bringing him here for a friendly game of chess was a good starting point.’

  He dropped her arm, strode to the fridge and pulled out two beers. ‘I’d rather face a firing squad.’

  ‘I might be able to arrange that.’ He didn’t need to look at her to feel her knife-edged gaze, as sharp as a slap. ‘In fact, I might just perform the favour myself.’

  His temper boiled over. ‘You brought him here to play chess? Fine. You play. I’m not ready for this.’

  Mariel hugged her arms around her body as he passed her, set the beer in front of his father and strode outside. The door slid shut with a thud that vibrated along the wall.

  Ah, God. Had she made a really bad mistake? Her heart raced, her legs felt weak, but she made herself cross the room to face Daniel. Tension dug grooves in his already lined face. She’d upset not one person, but two people.

  ‘He’ll come round,’ she murmured, then pulled her lips into a smile, pulled up a chair so that they both faced the chessboard. ‘Meanwhile, why don’t you explain the game to me?’

  Daniel took three long gulps of beer then scrubbed a hand over his jaw. ‘I should go.’

  ‘Give him a few moments.’ To distract Daniel, and settle herself, she picked up one of the beautiful black crystal pieces. ‘What’s this one called?’

  Daniel exhaled a slow breath. ‘It’s a bishop. It can only move diagonally.’ He picked up another. ‘Whereas the knight can jump over any other chess pieces. The object of the game is to checkmate your opponent’s king.’

  ‘And what does that mean, exactly?’

  ‘It’s when—’ He broke off when the door slid sharply open and Dane stepped back inside.

  His expression gave nothing away. It was as if he’d pulled on a mask. But he was calmer, Mariel noted. The tension in his shoulders had loosened; his hands weren’t balled into fists any more. Some of her own tension ebbed. But only a little, because he was too cool. Too controlled.

  He wasn’t finished with her yet, she knew. She’d stepped way over the boundaries they’d set. She was his lover; that was all. Temporary at that. Which gave her no right to interfere in his personal decisions. Or his life.

  Just because family meant everything to her, and she wanted one of her own some day, it didn’t mean she had to inflict her lifestyle choices on anyone else. Not even Dane. Even if her motives had been purely for his benefit.

  She sprang off the chair, nerves jangling. ‘I’ve got things to do. Upstairs.’

  Dane watched her go, then took the chair she’d vacated, set his empty beer bottle on the floor beside him. Outside, he’d been tempted to keep walking, to leave Mariel to clean up the mess she’d made. Until he’d realised she only had his interests at heart. Since when had anyone done anything like that for him? He quite simply couldn’t remember. And he’d reacted like an angry schoolkid.

  But he was a grown man, so he’d just have to suck it up and act like one. Didn’t mean he was going to like it. ‘Let’s get it over with, then. White?’

  His dad shook his head. ‘We don’t have to play.’

  The beginnings of a smile tugged at the corner of Dane’s mouth. ‘You never did like to lose, as I recall.’ He moved the clear crystal king’s pawn two spaces.

  His dad mirrored the move. ‘I haven’t played in years.’

  ‘No excuses.’ Dane made his second move. Queen, four spaces.

  ‘Barbara left.’

  ‘I know.’ Both men studied the board. ‘That’s the kind of woman she is. I tried telling you that.’

  ‘Women. You can’t trust them.’

  ‘Generally, I’d agree with you.’

  ‘But Mariel’s different, right?’

  Dane felt his father’s gaze on him. ‘Mariel’s not up for discussion.’

  ‘Why not? She’s living here. I read the papers. Just good friends.’ His chuckle turned into a loud throat-clearing and he reached for his beer again.

  Dane resisted the urge to defend their relationship. His father made it sound cheap. He studied the board but didn’t see it. What they had could never be termed a cheap affair. He’d never known anyone like Mariel. Never would. The fact that he’d have to let her go at some point in the not-too-distant future suddenly loomed, and just for a heartbeat everything inside him stilled and nothingness yawned before him.

  More rattled than he cared to admit, he pushed the thought away and made his next move.

  Mariel remembered the chocolate cookies she’d intended offering them about ten minutes later. Chocolate always soothed troubled waters. She didn’t want to interrupt or distract, so she’d put them on a plate, set it on the table and leave. She stole barefooted downstairs.

  Male voices floated up the stairwell as she descended. ‘You think you and Mariel might get—?’

  ‘No.’

  Mariel froze on the step at the categorical denial, fingers tightening on the smooth, worn banister.

  ‘She wants to play happy families some day. Big old house, kids of her own.’

  She’d always known he was going to end it, but to hear it spoken of in that detached and decisive way cut to her core like broken glass.

  ‘Ki
ds were never big in our family,’ she heard Daniel say.

  ‘We’re not family,’ Dane shot back. ‘Being biologically related doesn’t make a family.’

  Well, at least Dane understood that much, Mariel thought. But she didn’t want to hear any more. She climbed the stairs back to her room. Closed the door and lay down to wait for the afternoon to be over.

  CHAPTER TEN

  JUST on dark, Dane switched off the ignition. He had to admit it hadn’t gone as badly with his father as he’d first thought. He climbed out of his car, but came to a halt at the garage door.

  Mariel sat by the pool in the mellow circle of light. Right at home in the spotlight, he mused. Her long lashes rested on those fabulous cheekbones; her hair flowed over her shoulders in a stream of sable. At some point the sun had kissed the exposed skin of her shoulders and turned them rosy—strawberries and cream.

  His mouth watered. One taste. Just one…

  She’d probably still be mad with him. But she didn’t look angry. She looked sexy. His blood heated at thinking about it, rolling and heaving through him like the restless summer thunder over the hills in the distance.

  She moved, dipping her feet into the water, sending ripples across its smooth surface. A strange sensation hooked at his chest, snagging the breath in his throat and momentarily rooting him to the spot.

  Growing up, she’d always been his port in a storm, keeper of his secrets. His best friend.

  Now they were having an affair.

  Nothing permanent, he reminded himself, watching her lean on her arms and tilt her head back so that her breasts thrust upward as if in invitation. A primal growl threatened to erupt, but he fought it down for another moment to watch her—she was so rarely still.

  He walked towards her. ‘Hi.’

  Her head turned slowly towards him. ‘So you’ve finally decided to come home.’

  ‘I helped Dad fix a sticky door.’

  Her lips softened into a smile. ‘That’s good. That’s great.’