Miranda Lee - It Started With One Night - The Magnate's Mistress / His Bride for One Night / Master of Her Virtue

It had been lust at first sight. When she’d agreed to have drinks with him less than ten minutes after his going in and introducing himself, he’d been sure he was in for a wild night with a woman of the world. With his impossible workload and repeated overseas trips, Max’s sex life had been reduced to the occasional one-nighter with women who knew the score, and Tara seemed just the ticket to ride.

But the reality had proven so different. Her telling him shakily that she was a virgin even before he’d got her bra off had certainly put the brakes on the type of activities he’d been planning. Max had been shocked, but also entranced. Who would have believed it?

Fortunately, finding out before he’d gone too far gave him the opportunity to slow things down and make sure her first experience was pleasurable and not painful. He’d taken her to bed and really taken his time with her.

Looking back, making love to her at all had probably been a mistake. He should have cut and run. But he hadn’t; that very first time had made him swiftly decide that one night with Tara would not be enough. He’d kept her in his bed all weekend, making love to her as he hadn’t made love to a female in years. Sweetly. Tenderly. And totally selflessly.

Unfortunately, this was what Tara came to expect from him every time. Max soon realised he was dealing with a girl whose appearance belied her real nature. Underneath the sexy-looking blonde surface, the long legs and fabulous boobs, lay a naively romantic girl.

In some ways, Tara could be surprisingly mature. She was well-educated, well-read and well-travelled. And she certainly had a way with people, exuding a charm and social grace far beyond her years.

But when it came to sex she was like a hothouse flower, gorgeous to look at but incredibly soft and fragile.

Or so he’d thought, up till now.

Max sat back on his haunches and stared down at her beautiful but unconscious body, lying in shameless abandonment in front of his eyes.

If only she would lie like that for him when she was awake…

Max almost laughed at this new ‘if only’.

But maybe she would in the near future, came the exciting thought. She’d said she wasn’t totally shy and maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she just lacked the confidence to do what she really wanted to do. All she needed was some masterful persuasion at the right time, and a whole new world would open for her.

Up till this moment, Max had reluctantly accepted that Tara didn’t seem the raunchy type of girl. He’d reasoned it was worth sacrificing some more exotic experiences to feel what Tara could make him feel, what she’d made him feel from their very first night together.

But tonight had shown him that maybe, they could share more erotic lovemaking together in future.

Max became aroused just thinking of the things he’d like to do with her, and her with him. Not a good idea when it looked as if she would be asleep for some time. A shower was definitely called for. A cold one.

Wincing at his discomfort, he climbed off the bed and carefully eased the bedclothes from underneath Tara’s luscious derriere, rolling her gently onto the bottom sheet before pulling the other one up to her shoulders. She stirred but didn’t wake, though the sheet did slip down to reveal one of her incredible breasts.

Max bent and pressed his lips softly to the exposed nipple before whirling away and heading straight for the bathroom.

‘WHAT?’

The startled word shot from Tara’s lips as she sat bolt upright in bed. She blinked, then glanced somewhat glazedly around before realising what had woken her so abruptly.

It was the alarm on her mobile phone, telling her it was six o’clock, reminding her it was time to take her pill.

With a groan, she leant over and picked up the small pink handset, pressing the button which turned off the alarm. The sudden silence in the room highlighted Max’s absence. She wondered where he was, then wished she hadn’t. She didn’t want to think about Max at that moment.

Tara retrieved her packet of pills from the bedside chest, popped today’s pill through the foil then swallowed it promptly without bothering about getting any water. The doctor had warned her that you had to take the mini Pill around the same time every day or risk getting pregnant. Tara didn’t take hers around the same time. She took it at exactly the same time every day.

That done, she threw back the sheet and—after checking that Max wasn’t lurking in the doorway watching her—Tara rose to her feet. She winced at the wetness between her legs.

Impossible to pretend any longer that she didn’t remember what had happened before she fell asleep.

Why she was even trying to forget suddenly annoyed her. She hadn’t done anything to be ashamed of. Neither had Max, for that matter.

So he’d made love to her more forcefully than usual. So what? He’d delivered exactly what she’d been subconsciously wanting since he’d threatened to ravage her at the airport. And how she’d loved it!

Tara quivered all over at the memory. Had she ever experienced anything with Max quite so powerful before? She didn’t think so.

The sight of her green wrap lying tidily across the foot of the bed brought a frown to her forehead. Max must have picked it up off the floor whilst she was asleep. His own clothes as well. They were now draped over one of the chairs.

He hadn’t dressed again, she realised with a tightening of her stomach. He was somewhere in the penthouse, probably wearing nothing but his favourite bathrobe. Tara hurried into the bathroom to check, and yes, his bathrobe was missing from where it usually hung on the back of the bathroom door. And his towels were still damp. Obviously, he’d showered whilst she’d been asleep.

Swallowing, Tara hung her wrap up on the empty hook behind the door, wound her hair into a knot on top of her head, then stepped into the spacious, marble-lined shower cubicle.

She wasn’t yet sure what she was going to do after she’d showered. All she knew was that her body was already rebuilding a head of steam far hotter than the water which was currently cascading over her body.

She didn’t spend much time in the shower. Just long enough to ensure that she was freshly washed and nicely perfumed. She was careful not to wet her hair. She didn’t want to present herself to Max like some bedraggled kitten come in from a storm. Her hair was not at its best when wet. And she wanted to look her very best.

No, Tara amended mentally as she towelled herself down then slipped her arms into the silky wrap. She didn’t want to look her best, but her sexiest. She wanted to tempt Max into stopping doing whatever he was doing and take her back to bed. Right now.

For a second she almost left the wrap hanging open, but in the end decided that was tacky. So she tied it just as tightly as usual. Actually, even a bit tighter, so that her small waist was emphasised, as well as the rest of her curvy figure.

Swallowing, Tara took one final glance in the huge mirror which stretched along above the double vanity basins. On another day, at another time, she would have taken the time to make her face up all over again. There was little of her pink lipstick left, and her mascara had smudged all around her eyes. But she rather liked her slightly dishevelled look. She even liked the way her hair was up. Roughly, with some escaping strands hanging around her face. She looked like a woman who’d just come from her lover’s bed. She looked…wanton.

Spinning on her bare heels, Tara headed for the bedroom door.

The hallway that led from the master bedroom to the main body of the penthouse seemed to go on forever. By the time she reached the main living room, she wasn’t sure if she was terrified or over-excited. Her heart was going like a jack-hammer and her mouth was drier than the Simpson Desert.