Annie West - Sultry Nights - Mistress to the Merciless Millionaire / The Savakis Mistress / Ruthless Tycoon, Inexperienced Mistress

‘Good,’ he said softly. ‘Because I had been planning on asking you out for dinner in New York. We can discuss it when I get back.’

Suspicion slammed into Kate, clearing her lust-hazed mind as she remembered the frenetic call from Maud about this assignment, the apparent urgency. She reached up and took down Tiarnan’s hand. It felt warm and strong and vital, but she forced herself to let it go and glared up at him. ‘Did you have anything to do with my being sent here for this impromptu shoot?’

Tiarnan crossed his arms and looked down at Kate, completely at ease. Smug. He shrugged minutely. ‘Not … exactly …’

Kate crossed her arms too, as suspicion turned into cold certainty and not a little fear at how Tiarnan was determined to manipulate her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

His eyes turned steely. ‘It means that I might have encouraged the CEO of the luxury brand Baudé, who is a personal friend of mine, to hire you. I was aware he was looking for a suitable model …’

Shock spread through Kate—his influence had meant that within a week of seeing him in San Francisco he had managed to get her all the way across the world to Madrid, practically gift-wrapped on his doorstep. The realisation stunned her. Evidence of his determination made her feel funny inside—confused.

‘How dare you use me like that? I’m not some pawn you can just move around—’

Tiarnan took her hand, and her words halted and died.

‘Kate. You know I want you. I will do whatever it takes to convince you of that and get you to admit that you want me too.’

‘But … but …’ Kate spluttered. The effect of him just holding her hand was sending her pulse into overdrive. ‘That’s positively Machiavellian.’

He came closer and lifted her hand to his mouth, pressed a kiss to the underside of her wrist. ‘No. It’s called desire—and it’s a desire I’ve denied for a long, long time …’

Ten years . It hung there between them like an accusation.

‘Tiarnan,’ Kate said weakly. ‘It was so long ago … it was just a kiss … we’re not the same …’

‘So why does it feel like it was only yesterday, and that it was more than just a kiss?’

And right then, with Tiarnan holding her hand and standing so close, it slammed back into Kate with all the intensity as if it had been yesterday. It was exactly the same for her. The only problem was it had never diminished for her, while he’d been busy getting married, having a baby. Forgetting her. Until now. Because he was bored, or intrigued to know what he’d refused? Kate tried to pull her hand away, but he was remorseless, wouldn’t let go. She glared up at him, feeling panic rise, feeling inarticulate.

Tiarnan’s voice was eminently reasonable. ‘I may have suggested you to someone for a campaign. That’s all I did. I wanted to meet you here, show you that I meant what I said in San Francisco … and then in New York I was hoping that you’d agree to go out with me. Give us a chance.’ He grimaced. ‘What happened with Paloma today was out of even my control.’

Kate flushed and looked down for a moment. The panic was still there, but she fought it down. ‘Of course it is. You couldn’t have known that would happen.’

She looked up then, and finally managed to pull her hand from his. She stepped back to give herself space. But she knew it was useless. Tiarnan Quinn was fast filling every space within her and around her—as only he could.

‘Look, I’m offering to stay and watch Rosie till you get back. Apart from that …’ She shook her head. ‘I—’

Tiarnan put a finger to Kate’s mouth. ‘Just … think about it, OK?’

Kate looked into his eyes for a long moment, and what she saw there alternately scared the life out of her and made her want to wrap her arms around his neck and have him kiss her—exactly as she’d been wanting him to since the christening in France. Eventually, feeling weak, she nodded. It was only a small movement, but it seemed that Tiarnan was happy enough with that. She was afraid he’d seen some capitulation in her eyes that she wasn’t even aware of.

‘Good. And thank you for offering to stay.’ He stepped back too, and gestured for her to precede him back into the house. ‘I’d better see if Rosie’s OK with this, and fill you in on all the details of her routine.’

Kate walked back into the house and felt as if she was stepping over a line in the sand. She just hoped and prayed that someone would come along and divert Tiarnan’s attention in New York. And yet as soon as she had that thought the acid bile of jealousy rose. Kate was very afraid that when Tiarnan returned she wouldn’t have the strength to resist him …

Kate’s eyes were tired. She put down what she was working on and sat back in the couch for a moment, closing her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was waiting up for Tiarnan. He was due home at any time now. He’d been gone for three days.

Kate was all geared up to be clear and firm. She fully intended flying back to New York first thing in the morning. The thought of Rosie, though, made her heart clench. It had taken some time—a couple of days of Kate walking her to and from her new school nearby, chatting easily about this and that—for a sense of the familiar old accord to come back. And while it wasn’t exactly the way it had been, things were definitely thawing. Rosie clearly had a lot going on in her serious little head.

Earlier that evening, after Kate had bent down to kiss her goodnight, she’d been surprised and touched when a pair of skinny arms had crept around her neck and held on tight for a second. Rosie had said nothing, and Kate hadn’t pushed it, just crept out of the room, her heart swelling with emotion. Emotion she shouldn’t be allowing herself to feel for the little girl. Or her father.

Kate was surprised to admit to herself that in the past few days she’d felt an increasing sense of relaxation stealing over her. It had been so long since she’d slowed her pace. Stopping at the local café on her way home from seeing Rosie off to school each day, taking time to just read the paper had reminded her of how long it had been since she’d devoted any time to herself.

Sorcha had phoned earlier, and Kate hadn’t missed the open curiosity in her voice. Kate hated misleading her friend, keeping the real nature of what was going on with Tiarnan from her, but Sorcha was just too close, so she’d passed off the chain of events that had led her to Madrid as just coincidence. But it was no coincidence that she was sitting curled up on Tiarnan’s couch, waiting for him to come home, and no coincidence that was causing this churning mixture of excitement and turmoil in her belly …

Tiarnan stood at the door of the living room. The house was silent, warm. A sense of peace washed over him—the same peace he always felt when he got home and checked that Rosie was safe, tucked up in bed asleep. And yet tonight, after checking on her, that quality of peace was deeper, more profound.

One dim lamp was lit and on the couch was the curled-up figure of a woman. Kate. Here in his house. His . Satisfaction coursed through him. He walked in, the rug muffling his steps. She was asleep, hair tumbled over one shoulder in a bright coil of white-gold. His eyes travelled over her lissom form—what he could see of it in faded jeans and plaid button-down shirt. Her feet were bare, delicately arched, toenails painted with clear gloss. Desire was instant and burning within him.

He shrugged off his jacket and threw it onto the edge of the couch, sitting down beside Kate. She moved slightly in her sleep, sliding towards him, towards the depression he’d made. Tiarnan put an arm across the back of the couch and leant towards her face, which was turned towards him.