Sara Craven - His Inexperienced Mistress - Girl Behind the Scandalous Reputation / The End of her Innocence / Ruthless Russian, Lost Innocence

As he had done every other woman who had graced his bed.

Only Lily hadn’t graced his bed, and maybe that went some way to explaining his almost obsessive thoughts about her. He’d never had her. Had, in fact, made her off-limits to himself. And he wanted her. No point denying the obvious. Maybe if he had her —no ! Forget it. Not going to happen.

But that didn’t change the fact that now that his ferocious anger at being caught up in her situation had abated, and now he’d had a chance to observe her with Oliver and his sister all night, he had to admit he was starting to question his earlier assessment of her.

There was something so earthy and genuine about her. Something so lacking in artifice. He’d noticed it when she had engaged in a conversation with his PA and three of his paralegal secretaries.

She hadn’t tried to brush them off, or spoken down to them. She’d been warm and friendly and called them by name. Something he would not have expected a drug-addicted diva to remember, let alone do.

He couldn’t comprehend that he might have been wrong about her—but nor could he ignore the sixth sense that told him that something didn’t add up.

Especially since the police believed that the haul found in Lily’s bag, although small, had been intended for resale purposes. Lily just didn’t strike him as the type who worked for a drug cartel, and nor did she appear to need money. Which left the possibility that she was innocent, had been framed, or had been an unknowing drug mule.

Or she’d brought the drugs in for a lover.

In his business Tristan had come across people who did far worse things for love, and he told himself the only reason he cared about this possibility was because he felt sorry for her. If she was so in love with some jerk she’d committed a crime for him she would definitely do jail-time. Lots of jail-time.

As if all that wasn’t bad enough, the langoustines poached in miso—Élan’s signature dish, which he had enjoyed many times before—had failed to get the taste of her out of his mouth. And that was just damned annoying.

Lily shifted on the black leather bench seat beside him and for the millionth time he wished she’d just sit still. They had been given a corner booth, overlooking Hyde Park, and whenever she so much as blinked, or turned to take in the view, his mind thought it was a good idea to let him know about it.

He glanced around at the über-modern , low-lit interior and recognised some of the more celebrated restaurant clientele, who all seemed to be having a better time of it than him. Laughter and perfume wafted through the air, along with the sound of flatware on Limoges china, but none of it could distract him from his unhealthy awareness of her.

He reached for his glass and took a long pull of classic 1956 Mouton Rothschild Medoc, forcing his attention from the spoon Lily was trying to lick the last morsel of ice cream from, as if it was thousand-pound-an-ounce caviar, and back to Oliver’s discourse about his barbaric Scottish ancestors and some battle he’d no doubt claim they had won against the English.

God, his friend could talk. Had he known that about him?

Lily leaned forward and laughed, and Tristan refused to look at the way her low-cut silk blouse dipped invitingly, wondering where her tent-like cardigan had disappeared to.

When they had arrived at Jordana’s prior to dinner the two girls had cried and hugged for an eternity. Then Jordana had whisked Lily away to shower and change, berating him for not thinking of it himself. Tristan hadn’t told her that the last thing he needed was to have Lily Wild naked in his shower!

Now she was dressed in a red gypsy blouse, fitted denims and ankle boots, all provided by his sister. Her hair was brushed and fell in shiny waves down her back and she’d put on a bra. Pink. Demi-cup. Though he’d be a lot happier not knowing that. Because she had fabulous breasts and he couldn’t help wondering what they would look like naked.

‘It was love at first sight.’

Jordana’s words sounded overly loud to his ears, and brought his awareness sharply back to the conversation.

What was?

Tristan looked at his sister, who was thankfully gazing at her fiancé and not at him, and released a breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding.

‘That’s rubbish,’ Oliver grouched. ‘It took a month of haranguing you to help me find the perfect anniversary present for my parents before you even agreed to a real date.’

‘I wasn’t talking about me!’ Jordana giggled pointedly, and then squealed when Oliver grabbed her leg under the table.

Lily laughed at their antics—a soft, musical sound that curled through Tristan’s abdomen like a witch’s spell.

‘Steady on,’ he said, as much to himself as to Oliver. ‘She’s still my baby sister, you know.’

‘Stop your whining, you great plonker,’ Oliver retorted. ‘You’re just jealous because you can’t find someone who’ll have you.’

‘Ah, but haven’t you heard, my good friend?’ Tristan drawled. ‘A man doesn’t know what real happiness is until he’s married. And by then it’s too late!’

Jordana pulled a face. ‘Oh, ha-ha. You’ll fall in love one day. Once you get your head out of those legal bibles and stop dating women who are entirely unsuitable.’

‘That swimwear model didn’t look too unsuitable to me.’ Oliver grinned.

‘That swimwear model looked like a bobby pin.’ Jordana said archly. ‘Or should I say booby pin?’

‘Lady Sutton, then?’ Oliver offered.

‘Hmmm, right pedigree, but—’

‘I am still here, you know,’ Tristan grumbled, ‘and I’ll thank you both for staying out of my personal affairs. There’s nothing worse than two people who think love conquers all trying to talk perfectly happy singles into jumping off the same cliff.’

Not to mention the fact that he had no plans to relinquish his freedom to such a fickle and painful emotion as love.

But that reminded him that now would be a good time to find out who Lily could be so in love with she’d risk everything to please him.

And he had a right to know. He’d stuck his neck out for her, and he’d be damned if he’d risk getting it cut off because she’d done some idiot’s bidding.

‘What about you, Lily? Ever been in love?’ he asked, smiling benignly as she shot him a look that would have felled a tree.

Now, what on earth had made Tristan ask her that? He’d ignored her all night, and when he did speak to her it was to ask something she had no intention of answering. Not seriously anyway…

‘Oh, gosh, how long have you got?’ Lily jested lightly, trying to think of a feasible way to change the subject. She’d rather talk about money than love!

‘As long as it takes,’ Tristan replied amiably.

She cast him a frosty look and murmured her thanks as a waiter discreetly refilled her water glass just before she picked it up.

Tristan scowled at him, but Lily appreciated his attentiveness. As she did the ‘no cameras’ policy the restaurant insisted on. No doubt the main reason the place was so well-attended by the super rich. Although, as to that, this restaurant exuded a class all of its own.

Eating out had been the last thing Lily had felt like doing, especially after the incident in Tristan’s office, but she’d have done anything not to be alone with him. Which she would be once they left the restaurant.

And now he wanted to discuss her love-life as if they were best friends!

She didn’t think so.

There was no way she would tell him that, yes, she had thought herself silly enough to be in love once.

With him !

Especially not when she had returned those kisses in his office a few hours earlier as if she still was in love with him. Unbelievably, her body had gone off on a tangent completely at odds with her mind, and she was still shocked by her behaviour.