Mistress for Hire

by Letty James

  “I feel like a sweet you’re going to gobble up.”

  “Exactly!” He pounced, she squealed, and they wrestled on the bed until they were both laughing. “Come.” He motioned with his head for her to follow him. “I have something to show you.” This woman provoked dangerous impulsiveness. He jumped out of bed and fished his briefs off the floor.

  “Where?”

  “No questions.” He held up his shirt for her to slide into. The cuffs fell past her fingers, the hem hit her mid-thigh. Something stirred inside him—he tamped it down.

  No woman had entered his inner sanctum before. He told himself he needed to continue impressing her, intimidate her, bind her to him, so when her sister showed up, she’d be beholden to him. Loyal. Except, he had to admit he wanted to see her reaction. And make love to her under the stars.

  He quirked his eyebrow, enjoying her look of wonder, as he pushed a button on the wall next to his armoire. A hidden door slid open to reveal a wide spiral staircase, with brass railings and polished pine steps. Soft indirect lighting made the interior glow.

  He motioned her upstairs, admiring the sway of her bottom as they ascended.

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Yes,” he responded, his gaze on Nikki, before he shifted to the scene before them. He looked around at his rooftop garden with new eyes. With orchids hanging from moss-covered branches, lush green potted grasses, and a view of the twinkling lights of the Eiffel Tower in the distance. It felt like a little bit of Eden, if Eden had a Paris view. If one looked very closely, you could see gargoyles guarding each corner outside, which he pointed out to his evening Eve.

  “I love gargoyles. The hidden surprise of a building. When I read The Hunchback of Notre Dame, I used to dream of coming to Paris and seeing the gargoyles on the cathedral.”

  “It’s one of my favorite places. I’ll take you there.”

  “I’d love that.” She looked up at him with shining eyes and he had to look away. He strode over to the sitting area, which held only one chair and table. She would just have to sit on his lap. After their swim. He pressed a button to circulate warm water into the lap pool.

  Her eyes grew round. “I’ve never seen anything like this. How can you have a pool on a roof?”

  “The wonders of engineering. Do you swim?”

  “Oh, yes. I have wonderful memories of picnics at Brown Pond.”

  He stripped down and jumped into the chest-deep pool before holding his hand out for her. Any other woman would have given him a show, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and sliding in beside him. Nikki pulled the shirt over her head and jumped in, splashing water everywhere before she took off to the opposite end. He dove after her, admiring the shadow of her form against the glowing pool lights. They emerged, both clinging to the edge, the lights of the city meeting the stars overhead. He loved this view. And was surprised how comfortable he felt with her here.

  He reached for her, tucking her in front of him, pressing against her pert bottom. He groaned, dropping his mouth to her neck. Such a delicious confection. Nikki tilted her head, letting him know she wanted him, too. Palming her breasts, he delighted in their peaked response.

  His hand moved between her legs, his whole body taut with need as she spread her thighs to grant him access. Her womanly curls swirled around his palm as he fingered her sensitive bud. She moaned as he caressed her sweet opening, dipping into her. So tight. So hot. Her shoulders hunched as her whole body moved against his hand. His breath stuttered harsh against her back.

  “Oh, ma petite. You are irresistible.” Not able to wait any longer, Gérard grasped her thighs. She arched her back and he plunged into her sweetness.

  The air reverberated with his groans. Nothing compared to this. Water splashed over the side of the pool with their rhythmic rocking. His blood surged through him as the skin on his chest tightened. Her muscles clenched around him as she cried out. The lights before him tilted and he came with a powerful bellowing release.

  Damn. Damn. Damn. It had never been this good.

  He held her, gently bobbing in the water until he slipped from her. Kissing her shoulder, he snuggled against the curve of her neck. “Now, perhaps I can sleep.”

  She laughed softly and rubbed her head against his.

  Merde! His hand tightened around her ribcage.

  Nikki gasped and he immediately released her. He automatically grabbed her arm and hauled her up as she slipped under the water.

  “What happened?” Nikki wiped the sparkling drops from her oh-so-innocent face.

  “You know damn well what happened. I didn’t use a condom. And you didn’t stop me.” Blood pounded in his temples. “Such an easy trick. Tell me you’re on birth control and then let me forget a condom, or two.”

  “You never asked. I never thought.” She wrenched away from him. “I didn’t realize.” Not bothering to swim to the ladder, she scrambled out of the pool. Covering herself with his shirt, she stood shaking at the water’s edge.

  “I doubt very much you didn’t realize.” Gérard hauled himself out of the pool and stood before her naked and dripping. His fists clenched and she flinched away from him. The sudden fear on her face brought him up short. Did she think he would hit her? He raked his hair away from his face. She certainly knew just how to work it. Her sister had probably coached her on the finer points of manipulation and he’d fallen for everyone. Except, he, too, should have known better. He shouldn’t have been taken in by her sweet, tempting body. He eyed her shivering form and offered her no comfort.

  “Where are you in your cycle?”

  “The . . . the middle. About two weeks to go.”

  Merde. The most fertile time of all. He stomped over to the drink cabinet and flung open the compartment underneath, grabbing two towels.

  “It’s time for you to go back to your room.” He flung a towel at her, turning away to wrap one around himself.

  “So, I’m being dismissed. Like a common whore?” The towel lay on the floor between them. Why didn’t she put the damn thing on?

  He raised an eyebrow, affecting nonchalance while his blood continued to boil. “I believe mistress is the correct term in the contract.” Slamming a glass and bottle of whiskey on the counter, he didn’t offer her a drink.

  “What are you talking about?” Nikki stood straighter, now, getting in his space, challenging him.

  “The contract you signed in my office. It stipulates being my mistress. For a year.” He gave her a cold smile.

  “You tricked me!” She stepped back just as he stepped forward.

  “Not at all. It’s all there in black and white. You just didn’t bother to read it, you were so anxious to integrate yourself in my life. And this should make you ecstatic. If there is a babe growing in that deceitful little belly of yours, you will marry me. No child of mine will be labeled a bastard.”

  “You’re crazy. I’m not going to marry you, whatever happens.”

  He grabbed her arm, his nose practically meeting hers. “That’s where you’re wrong. If you don’t, I will make your life a living hell. The moment you signed on the dotted line, you were bought and paid for.”

  Chapter 11

  Nikki hit him, the slap against his cheek stinging her palm—the sound bouncing off the water and boomeranging around the room.

  Gérard’s face went white, then red, absorbing the angry handprint on his cheek. He drew himself to his full height and released her very slowly, every muscle in his body seeming to contract with rage.

  She ran like a scared bunny, slipping on the bottom metal step, banging her shin against the rails. She raced to her own room and slammed the door behind her, falling back against it as her lungs burned with great sobbing gulps. Flinging Gérard’s wet shirt away from her naked body, she collapsed onto the carpet, shivering with memori
es.

  Scenes of her childhood flashed before her tightly closed eyes. Her father’s striking fists, her mother’s and Jessica’s bruises, her mother lying on the cracked linoleum, shots whizzing over their heads as they fled from the house in the middle of the night.

  How could she have done that? She’d never raised her hand to anyone. Tim had never incited her to such anger. How could she have treated another human being like her father treated her mother and step-sister?

  For some reason, he’d never laid a hand on her. He’d shouted and raised the back of his hand threatening her, but his weapon against her had been his words. Jessica had saved her. Stolen into their shared room late one night and dragged her out of bed, whispering for her to hurry into her clothes. They’d fled to a sympathetic neighbor who’d called Mimi. Mimi had called the police, but her mother wouldn’t press charges. So Mimi had taken them in and raised them to be proper young ladies.

  Who didn’t hit.

  Who didn’t speak harshly.

  But Nikki had watched her step-sister dance a jig on Tom Sommer’s grave, and wished she had the nerve to do it, too.

  She’d crossed the line. She’d become no better than her father.

  Damn, Gérard Beauvais. The bone-melting passion they’d shared had merely been a joke to him. Oh, how she hated him. And herself, for being so easily seduced. How dare he think she had planned it.

  With a trembling hand, she rummaged in her purse for her phone. Punching in Jessica’s number, she prayed her sister would answer. But once again, nothing. She’d never felt so alone.

  Pushing herself to her feet, she searched for something to cover herself that hadn’t been paid for by Gérard Beauvais. Finding nothing except her old backpack, she wrapped herself in a towel and stalked over to the desk. She ran her finger along the lines of print, reading each word.

  Maitresse.

  Mistress! Even in French, the word wasn’t hard to translate.

  Her fingers tightened on the paper, crumpling the edge. How could she have been so stupid? Further down in the document was an agreement not to have any other employment. Technically, she could volunteer at Madame’s bakery. Would Emmaline take her on if Gérard objected? But then, she would have nothing to live on and no money to save for school.

  Her stomach churned and she pressed one hand to her belly. What if she was pregnant? She’d been so lost in the moment, there under the stars, Gérard’s expert touch making her forget everything. Tears blurred the words before her.

  A baby.

  A baby would be her family. A family she never thought she would have.

  There was no question of giving it up for adoption or getting rid of it. Like dough, it would rise inside her until it was ready. She smiled at the fanciful thought and wiped at the tears spilling onto her cheeks.

  What a mess. She shook her head. If only she’d called the American Embassy, instead of showing up in Gérard’s office, none of this would have happened. She sat down at the desk chair and put her head in her hands. And if none of this had happened, she would not have known Gérard, the man who’d touched her soul only hours ago. How could this have happened? Because for one moment, both of them had forgotten everything, but the passion between them.

  Nikki choked back tears. Crying wouldn’t help. She’d gotten herself into this mess and there had to be a way out. A clanging noise and a curse sounded from outside. She jerked her head up and turned off the desk lamp. Creeping to the window, she peered outside. The full moon lit the back garden, fanciful topiaries casting short shadows. A black cat streaked over the gravel walkway and clambered up the brick wall surrounding the yard. A large figure stooped down and picked something up off the walk.

  Gérard! Again, outside in the greenhouse. What was so important he had to be down there in the middle of the night? Nikki swiped at her face to remove the last trace of tears.

  No more running away.

  She owed him an apology. But he owed her an explanation.

  Gérard rubbed at the knot on his forehead. The lid on the trash bin had smacked against his head when the cat knocked it over. He cursed again. He thought he’d trained her to stay down. Now, he had a mess on his hands. Damned females. Were they all out to get him? His whole world had shifted since he’d followed Nikki downstairs only hours ago.

  He opened the greenhouse door and flipped on the light, breathing in the warm, damp musk of clean earth. If only life could be this simple. Shedding his jacket, he looked around at the tidy space, his list of projects neatly clipped over his workbench. The list had little appeal now. Ever since Nikki had shown up, he’d been distracted. He pulled on his work gloves and set about cleaning up the mess outside. The work felt comfortable, but his body refused to relax as it usually did when he entered his favorite getaway.

  If he was honest with himself, which he would like to think was most of the time, he felt a small thrill at the possibility of a child. At thirty-eight years old, he’d resigned himself to being single. No woman wanted a family with a man who traveled as much as he did. He didn’t even want that. But his focus had always been on the business. Making more money, acquiring more companies, building an empire that would never topple as his life had done so easily when his parents had died. Any child of his needed the security he’d never found. His hand gripped the handle of the small shovel.

  In his anger, he’d deliberately goaded Nikki. She scared him—the way they’d connected so easily, so deeply. He’d never felt such things with any woman before. Even after she’d slapped him, he wanted to crush her in his arms and plunge deep inside her until he heard her cries of pleasure again. He was despicable. The Tamed Beast, his Uncle Victor had teasingly called him when he’d outgrown adolescence. Even now, the thought of the nickname stung.

  Nikki slipped through the mudroom and out the back door. The moonlight made the topiaries resemble something out of Alice in Wonderland. Small rabbits, roosters carved out of shrubs, stags, and prancing horses created from shorn trees. Gravel paths intersected the area with tiny hedges edging beds mulched flat for the winter. Lights shone from the glass enclosure at the edge of the garden. She looked back at the house and caught a glimpse of the roofline gargoyles. How very appropriate. The gravel bit into the soles of her soft boots.

  The warmth of the greenhouse misted her glasses with a soft moist wave of air after the bitter chill from outside. Blinded, she pulled them off, catching Gérard’s guarded expression as he brandished a shovel over a wide trough of dirt.

  “Close the door.” His voice was brusque and she almost lost her nerve.

  She stood by the door in case she needed to make a quick exit. Polishing her glasses with the tail of her sweater, she addressed her boots. “I came to apologize.”

  She sneaked a look at him. He raised his eyebrow and she wanted to smack him again.

  “Then come over here and do it properly.” Gérard laid down the shovel and wiped his hands on his pants, leaving dark smears of dirt. He, too, had changed—dressed rather. She licked her dry lips, remembering the sight of him naked. Now, his Viking glory was covered in a pair of brown drawstring pants and a faded denim shirt. On his feet, he wore leather flip-flops. In the winter? She wore leggings, a sweater, a pair of Ugg boots, and a casual sheepskin jacket, all of which had appeared in her closet. Damn, thoughtful irritating man.

  Nikki squared her shoulders and shrugged out of her coat, keeping it in her arms. She wasn’t here to be cowed again. Stepping forward, she eyed the raised planting bed in front of him.

  “My new project,” he announced. He dug one hand gently into the raised bed and sifted through the soft, dark soil.

  She took a step back as he presented her with a wiggling pink mass.

  Worms. Ick.

  “They won’t hurt you.”

  She forced herself to stand next to hi
m and take one proffered worm. It wiggled and danced on her palm before winding itself around her ring finger in a damp embrace. She couldn’t help smiling. The tiny thing tickled. He watched her intently as she carefully shook the worm off her finger, back into his loamy home.

  “You’re serious? Worms are your next project?”

  He nodded with undisguised pride. “The basis of good food is good soil. And to create and promote better soil, we need more worms. These are only enough for my own garden, but I’ve built worm farms around the world, including one on Mr. Sanford’s property. He hasn’t mentioned making worm tea?” He winked.

  Nikki marveled at the picture of the sophisticated Gérard Beauvais selling worms. He would be right at home pedaling bait back in Georgia. The juxtaposition of earthiness and elegance in the man completely turned her on. She turned away to study the shelves of beautiful orchids on one wall. “I must say, Monsieur Beauvais, you certainly have a way with pillow talk.”

  He snorted and said dryly, “Wait until tomorrow when I give you the lecture on different kinds of manures.”

  She laughed, sobering again when she looked back at him. This was no laughing matter between them.

  “I shouldn’t have hit you.” She placed her coat on the lone stool and turned toward him. “I’m very sorry. It won’t happen again. Ever.”

  “You were provoked.” Gérard hung the shovel on the wall and faced her. “But nothing changes.”

  “What are you saying?” Nikki pushed up her glasses.

  “If you’re pregnant, you are bound to me. In a way no contract can ever convey. And don’t even think of getting rid of it.”