Kate Hardy - His Permanent Mistress - Mistress Under Contract

Four pairs of big eyes warily looked him over. He stared back at them, poker-style. He’d spent too many days in court seeing off gang guys to feel much heat from a couple of beautiful bartenders. Lucy spoke again, giving more direction, and he took the opportunity to wander about and take in her changes. Every window was open and on the sills he saw some candles lit under oil burners. He walked over to one and sniffed. Yes. That was her—a warm, faintly exotic spice smell. He smelt it in her hair, her skin. He wondered if all of her was as delicately scented.

When he turned around the others were exiting, avoiding his eye. Lucy strolled over towards him.

He pulled his steamy thoughts in. ‘Thanks for the warm introduction.’

‘Someone has to be bad cop.’

‘I’d have thought you’d enjoy that.’

‘Oh, no. I’m always good.’

Sure she was.

‘You really think that guy’s capable of doing this job?’ He nodded his head after Corey, who’d been last to leave after sweeping away what ominously looked like more than one dropped glass.

‘Daniel, he can carry crates and he looks good.’

‘It’s all about looks?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course. Everybody likes to look at something beautiful.’

‘Not everybody sees beauty in the same thing.’

‘Don’t worry. He’s going to please a lot of our customers. And he can actually make a good cocktail.’ She had a smile on her face that he didn’t like. What was it about that guy that had her drooling? ‘We get the customers in the bar, they have beautiful quick service and good music. If the vibe is good, they’ll stay and pay.’

He nodded. It didn’t seem too hard an equation. ‘What are you planning to do with all those? Have your own party?’ He gestured to the line-up of glasses.

‘Unless you want them, they’re going down the drain.’ She tilted her chin—defiance in the stance. ‘It’s not a waste of stock, I needed to see what their skills were like.’

‘I wasn’t worried about that. You don’t want one?’

She frowned. ‘I don’t drink.’

That surprised him. ‘Ever?’

‘Never at work. Never at a bar. I might have a glass of wine at home with people I trust.’

People she trusted? Why? He was about to ask when he heard someone’s high heels clomping up the stairs at pace.

‘Lucy, darling, sorry I’m late.’

Daniel turned and saw the tallest women he’d ever encountered come through the door at breakneck speed. He saw Lucy at an equal pace walk straight into her arms. Whoa. Then he saw her pull away and smile at the woman, and give her the whisper of a wink. ‘Daniel, this is Sinead. She’s the bouncer I was telling you about.’

She. Bouncer. OK. Great.

He looked the bouncer in the eye—almost. He was fractionally taller. Peripherally, he could see Lucy staring at him. Obviously she’d been hoping to shock him. Well, sorry, but he wasn’t some sexist who thought that women couldn’t work in any area. Although for a second there he’d wondered about their relationship. He didn’t like Lucy walking into anyone else’s arms—male or female…

What had he just thought? Daniel replayed the scene in his mind. Re-examined the feeling. Territorial. Possessive . That prehistoric man thing again.

For a moment he was stunned. Then he figured out the answer. A good twentieth century answer—it was no different from his usual approach. He’d sink deep into her softness and sate this full-on lust. He wanted her, he’d have her, and then he’d forget about her. Just because his want was extreme, didn’t mean the rules had to be any different.

This train of thought delighted him so much he gave Sinead a huge smile. She blinked—so did Lucy.

‘Fantastic, Sinead. I’m sure you’ll be fabulous—Lucy wouldn’t recommend you if you weren’t.’

Lucy was picking her jaw up off the floor. Daniel nearly laughed aloud.

Sinead gave him a smile. She too met the beautiful barperson criteria. Daniel started to wonder if they were going to get done for being ugly-ist in their recruitment policy. At least six foot, with long blonde hair that was tied back in a pony-tail, Sinead was already outfitted in the regulation black—a slim, sleeveless top and tight black trousers. Add a mask and she’d be Catwoman.

‘You do martial arts?’

‘Of course.’ She gave him a wide smile. ‘I trained Lucy in the basics a few years ago. That’s how we met.’

Why did Lucy want basic martial arts training? Why did she only drink with people she trusted? Daniel’s curiosity escalated.

Lucy piped up, ‘I’ve managed to convince her she needs an extra job on the weekends.’

‘This is your first job as a bouncer?’ He tried not to panic.

Sinead gave him a wide smile. ‘Sure.’

He couldn’t wait to get Lucy alone. He was going to kill her. OK, maybe he’d kiss her first.

Lucy was looking a tad uncomfortable. As she should. ‘We have some things to work through, Daniel. Are you staying long?’

She was trying to dismiss him? ‘No. I’m here for the afternoon. I’ll go set up on the end of the bar there.’

With great satisfaction he saw the panic in her eyes. He pulled out his laptop again and laid out his files. He found this end of the bar comfortable. He could raise his head and survey the entire room. And it gave him prime view of the length of the bar—he could keep his eye right on her.

Lucy and Sinead sat at a table as far away as possible and spoke in low tones. Should he hassle her about cronyism? She’d clearly hired a friend. He pushed the thought away. If she was the best qualified for the job then fine. Frankly he had other things to be worried about—this case, for one. He just wanted the club open again and functioning as OK as possible. He wished Lara would get back a.s. A.p. so he could hand this sick puppy back to her and walk away from the woman occupying too much of his brain.

He focused on the books, finally able to concentrate knowing the wild one was in his line of sight. He lost himself in the law.

‘You like watching women wrestle, Daniel?’ She leaned over his shoulder and he could smell her spice. He jerked his head up and looked about the bar—Sinead appeared to have gone, leaving Lucy and him alone. His blood pumped a little faster.

‘I like getting my work done in peace.’

She mocked him. ‘Don’t you ever muck about?’

‘Not on my client’s time.’

‘Of course not. I was wrong—you should be good cop. Goody-good.’

‘You really think I’m a boring square, don’t you?’

‘You’re a lawyer. You couldn’t be more straight.’

‘Someone should hire you to do PR for my profession. Most of the population think we’re crooked as.’

At that she smiled. ‘You realise it’s after six. Haven’t you clocked off yet?’

‘I work long hours.’

‘Clearly.’

What did she mean by that? That he had no life? Hell, he spent half his evenings at some social event or other. And didn’t have too much trouble finding dates to take with him. Pretty dates. Dates who wore designer, not…second-hand. He turned on his stool to face her, finding her enjoyably close. She made to step away but he stopped her by taking her wrist in his hand. She stilled completely. He liked the feel of her—as soft as he’d imagined. In his own time, in his own way, he’d show her exactly how un-boring he was. Soon. ‘Have you never been in a job you love, Lucy?’

‘Not for long.’

‘And why is that?’

She shrugged, pulling her hand away. ‘The love doesn’t last long.’

He let her go—her words hitting a nerve. She’d given him a timely reminder. She was the epitome of everything he didn’t like about women—unreliable. His desire, and the rest of him, cooled. ‘Everything set for tomorrow?’