More Than a Mistress

by Sandra Marton

  Do I mean anything at all to you, Travis? she’d been going to ask.

  As it turned out, he’d provided the answer without her having to ask the question. She did mean something to him. She was more than a mistress, he’d said earnestly, as if it were a compliment, given her that hurt-puppy look as if he couldn’t imagine why his words hadn’t turned her giddy with delight.

  Alex gave a great, gulping sob. “I really, really despise you, Travis,” she said, as the tears streamed down her face.

  He’d let people think she was—whatever they thought she was. That smarmy man in the office. Oh, the way he’d looked at her, as if he knew some dirty joke and she were the punchline. And that other boor. The look in his piggy eyes when his tiny brain started piecing things together. Everybody had stared at her as if she were a one-night stand.

  “And I wasn’t,” she whispered.

  She wasn’t. She’d been Travis’s lover.

  But not his love.

  Alex wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Enough,” she said, but it wasn’t. The tears kept coming.

  No, Travis hadn’t loved her. He’d never promised her love. Good times, yes, but no love. And no forever after. He’d made that clear and she’d said that suited her, just fine.

  The only trouble was, she’d lied.

  What a mess she’d made of things, losing her heart to a man who’d gone out of his way to point out that her heart was the part of her he least wanted.

  Wasn’t that great? She wasn’t just a liar, she was also a fool. And she was alone in a house that was about as cozy as a mortuary, with a storm raging outside. The only thing lacking was some guy wearing a hockey mask with an ax clutched in his hand, pounding to get in.

  Something slammed against the front door.

  Alex shrieked, spilled the wine down her robe and shot off the stool.

  Darkness, thick and impenetrable, swirled between the library and the entry hall.

  The thing hit the door a second time.

  “A branch,” she babbled. “It’s a branch, a branch…”

  Of course it was. The storm must have sent tree limbs flying. All that wind, the lightning, the rain…

  The branch beat against the door again—except, this branch sounded like a fist. Alex looked around frantically for something to use as a weapon. The wine bottle? The flashlight?

  The fist hit again. Alex mumbled a silent prayer and made her way to the door, bottle in one hand, flashlight in the other.

  “Open this damned door, Alex!”

  Alex froze. “Travis?”

  “You’re damned right, it’s Travis. Open this door or I’ll break it down.”

  For one crazy second, her heart filled with hope. He’d come after her. He’d come for her…

  Of course he’d come for her. Women didn’t just walk out on the great Travis Baron. He did the walking, the arrogant, insufferable, self-centered—

  “Alex, I know you’re in there. And I’m telling you right now, open—this—door!”

  Alex glared at the door. He wouldn’t be breaking in, not this time. She’d thrown the bolt.

  “Go away, Travis,” she said.

  “I am not going anywhere. And I am not going to stand out here and drown while we carry on a conversation.” The door rattled as he pounded his fist against it. “Alex? Do you hear me?”

  Alex lifted her chin. “No.”

  Outside, soaked to the skin by the storm, Travis groaned and rested his forehead against the sodden wood of the massive door.

  “Alex.” Travis beat his fist against the door and kicked it, too, for good measure. “Alex, I’m warning you, don’t play around with me!”

  She’d better not, he thought grimly. He was in a foul mood and had been, for quite a while.

  The weather reports had warned of a massive storm building. Small planes had been touching down at the airstrip like bees hurrying home to the hive but he’d taken the Comanche up anyway.

  “Flight’s gonna be a rough one,” some old geezer had warned him when he’d filed his flight plan.

  A brilliant deduction, Travis had thought. But nothing would have stopped him from flying north and, by God, he’d made it, only to waste time scrounging around for a car because, by the time he landed, the rental places and the dealers were all closed. In the end, he’d paid some kid at the airfield a hundred bucks for the use of a pickup truck that smelled vaguely like horse.

  What had kept him going was imagining Alex’s face when she saw him. Surely, by then, she’d have come to her senses. She’d throw herself into his arms, tell him how she loved him…

  Travis glowered at the closed door.

  Instead, he was standing in the rain, soaked to the skin, pleading with the woman he was damned fool enough to want to spend the rest of his life with, to open the door and let him in. He had to be nuts! Here he was, putting his head in a noose. A silken noose but hey, a noose was a noose. The realization terrified him but he’d kept on going because he loved Alex. Really loved her, with the kind of chorus-singing-in-the-background, flowers-strewn-up-the aisle accompaniment he’d never believed in before.

  The thing of it was, he wanted his head in that noose.

  On the other hand, how much love could a man offer a woman if he ended up dying of pneumonia?

  “Open the door, Alex.”

  “No.”

  A muscle knotted in Travis’s jaw. “Alex?” he said sweetly. “Did you know you left the top down on your convertible?”

  The door swung open. Travis grinned in triumph and stepped into the house as Alex stuck her head outside.

  “Liar,” she said furiously, and swung at him with the wine bottle. “You get out of here, Cowboy!”

  Travis snatched the bottle from her, frowned and took a sniff of the air.

  “Have you been drinking?”

  Color flew into her face. “No. And if I have, it’s none of your business, you—you liar!”

  “You already called me that.” He put the bottle down, slapped his hands on his hips, kicked the door closed and glared at her. Rain dripped from the tip of his nose, pooled on the floor from his sodden clothes. “And I know I lied but it was only to save my life. I was drowning out there.” He put his hand up. “Will you get that light out of my eyes?”

  Alex swung the light away and he got his first clear look at her. She was wearing an oversize robe with a big brown stain down the front. Her hair hung straight as sticks around her face, her eyes and nose were pink.

  His heart swelled. She was beautiful.

  “You can come in,” she said coldly, “but only until the storm is over. I wouldn’t want to have to try to explain why I’d let a man drown on the front steps.”

  “Thanks,” he said, and shuffled past her.

  “You’re dripping on the floor.”

  “An astute observance, Princess. I don’t suppose you have a towel to spare?”

  She hesitated, shrugged and turned on her heel. Travis followed after her in waterlogged silence, up the stairs, down the hall, to the bedroom. A moment later, she slapped a stack of scratchy towels in his arms.

  “Here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  His brows lifted. “Such good manners.”

  “There’s no reason not to be polite,” she said stiffly.

  He looked at the bed, then at her. “We weren’t always so well mannered, when we shared a bedroom.”

  Alex flushed. “When you’re done drying off,” she said, making for the door, “come downstairs.”

  “I want you to come back.”

  Damn, he hadn’t meant to tell her that way. He’d intended to take her in his arms, kiss her, tell her how she’d changed his life…but he could feel his chances slipping away. He’d never seen his Princess so cold and removed.

  “Alex? I said—”

  “I heard what you said.” She stood absolutely still, her back to him. “What do you expect me to say, Travis?”

 
“That you will,” he said, as if this were all too simple to need explanation.

  Her heart, her foolish, foolish heart, which had been oh, so close to melting, quickly began icing over.

  “Come back to you, you mean.” She swung toward him.

  “Yes.”

  He took a step forward, wishing he could see her eyes but she was pointing the flashlight at him again. His heart gave an unsteady lurch. This wasn’t going right. He’d admitted that he loved her, asked her not to leave him. Why wasn’t she in his arms? He knew that she loved him. She had to love him.

  “No.”

  Travis came to a dead stop. “What do you mean, no?”

  Alex licked her lips. Don’t look at me that way, she thought. As if you really love me, not just want me. Don’t, oh don’t.

  “Princess.” He cleared his throat. “Princess, I know I let you down—”

  “Is that what you think this is all about?”

  “Okay. I hurt you. But I never intended to. When I said you were—that you were more than a mistress to me, I meant that you’d become the center of my life.”

  “That’s nice,” she said politely.

  Travis’s eyes narrowed. What was this? He was putting his heart on the line here and all she could say was…

  “Nice? I bare my soul, and you tell me, ‘That’s nice’?”

  “I am not coming back to you,” she said. Her voice quavered; she told herself not to dare cry. “I hate you, Travis. I hate you!”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Go away. And never come back.”

  “You’re in love with me, Princess.”

  “In love with…?” She laughed, or hoped the sound she made was a laugh. “Oh, that ego of yours is unbelievable! Why would you think I’m in love with—” The lights blazed on. Alex blinked and looked at Travis. What she saw in his face made her breath catch. “You stay away from me, Cowboy,” she said quickly, but it was too late. He was already moving toward her. She took a step back, then another. Her shoulders hit the wall.

  “Don’t you dare touch me, Travis! Travis? What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Undressing you,” he said calmly.

  “No!” She wriggled. A big mistake. She knew that as soon as the center of her body connected with the center of his. “Travis. Listen to me. First you broke into my house—”

  “I didn’t break in. And it isn’t your house.” He frowned. She’d never been a Girl Scout; he could tell that by the impossible knot she’d tied in the sash of her robe. “You let me in, remember?”

  “Only because I didn’t want your dead body on my conscience. Dammit, this won’t solve anything.”

  “Yeah, it will.” He looked up and gave her that quick, smug smile that had always managed to drive her wild. “You won’t be able to lie to me, once we’ve made love.”

  “We are not going to make love!” She slapped at his hands. “Stop that!”

  “Remind me to give you lessons on how to tie a square knot.”

  “You’re never going to give me lessons in anything again.”

  “I am,” he said calmly. “I like to sail, and I’d never let you tie a knot like this in a line on…Ah. There we are. It’s open.”

  “I don’t like boats. I am never going to sail with you…” Alex’s breath caught. “Don’t—don’t do that.”

  “Do what?” he said, very softly, and he lowered his head to hers and kissed her.

  “Travis,” she whispered, as he stroked his hand down her throat. “Please. Please…”

  He kissed her again. Her lips clung to his.

  “Tell me that you love me,” he said softly.

  “I don’t. I…” She moaned as he nuzzled her robe from her shoulder, then kissed the slope of her breast.

  “Say it, Princess,” he whispered.

  Alex swallowed dryly. “This is coercion. It isn’t fair.”

  Travis smiled. “You’re right, it isn’t.” He lifted her into his arms and kissed her tenderly, again and again. “Say it anyway.”

  Tears stung her eyes. “All right. I admit it, I love you. I’ve always loved you, from the beginning.”

  Travis leaned his forehead against hers. “Thank you, Princess.”

  The tears came, then, slipping down her cheeks. “You’re my soul,” she whispered. “My heart. You’re all I ever wanted.”

  “Alex. Sweet Alex.” Gently, he lowered her to the bed and came down beside her. “I love you. I adore you. I don’t ever want to wake in the morning without you in my arms, or go to bed without your kiss at night.”

  “Oh, Travis,” she said in a broken whisper, “if only you really meant that…”

  He drew back, trying his best to look offended. “I do mean it. When I slip a wedding ring on your finger, darlin’, you’d better understand that we’re goin’ to be makin’ those vows for all time.”

  Alex stared up at him. “Wedding ring? Vows? Travis…Are you asking me to marry you?”

  “I’m not askin’ you, Princess. I’m tellin’ you. You are goin’ to marry me.”

  Lord, he was nervous! He took a deep breath and told himself to take it easy. He wanted her to know what she was agreeing to because once she did, he’d hold her to her promise for the rest of their lives.

  “Alexandra. Marry me. And be my love, forever.”

  Alex laughed with joy. She curled her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Yes,” she whispered, between kisses. “Yes, yes…”

  Travis grinned. He sat up, pulled his wet T-shirt over his head, kicked off his sneakers, rid himself of his jeans and briefs, and took her in his arms again.

  “I kind of figured I’d find you here,” he said.

  She sighed. “Well, I had nowhere else to go. You were right, I hated Thorpe House. And I couldn’t go back to your place.”

  “You came here because of us, darlin’. Because this is where our lives together really started.”

  She smiled. “You’re right.”

  “You know, Princess, I was thinking that this place shouldn’t be owned by a faceless corporation.” He gave her a long, lingering kiss. “We could live here. Weekends, anyway, while we build Peregrine into what it should be.”

  Her face lit, and then she sighed again. “It’s too late, Travis. Remember? I sold the vineyard to your father.”

  “Not quite. The deal didn’t go through yet.”

  Alex smiled. “In that case, I’ll call my lawyers, tell them I want to give Peregrine to you, as a wedding gift.”

  “You can’t.” That smug smile flashed across his handsome face again. “I phoned your lawyers from my plane. I bought the place for us.”

  “Bought it? Travis Baron, you are the most arrogant man in the world. How could you be so certain you knew what I’d say?”

  “I just knew,” he said, without any arrogance at all, “that neither of us could ever be whole, without the other.”

  The words seemed to shimmer in the air between them. “Oh, Travis,” Alex whispered, and she began to weep.

  Travis sighed and drew her closer. “My sister once told me I’d never be able to make sense out of women,” he muttered.

  “Your sister was right.” Alex said, sniffling against his shoulder. “When do I get to meet her?”

  “Soon,” Travis said. “Very soon. But first…” He kissed her, and rose above her. “It’s rainin’ out, darlin’.” His voice was a teasing whisper. “And you said you always wanted to take a walk in the rain.”

  Alex drew his head down to hers. “Later.”

  And, in a tumble of silken sheets and soft sighs, Travis Baron and Alexandra Thorpe came together as if for the very first time, not only in passion but in love.

  * * * * *

  Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of Sharon Kendrick’s next book,

  THE ITALIAN’S CHRISTMAS HOUSEKEEPER

  When shy Molly is found sobbing by Salvio, he comforts her…with the most amazing experience of her life. But when it costs Molly her job
, she must become Salvio’s temporary housekeeper–just in time for Christmas!

  Read on for a glimpse of

  THE ITALIAN’S CHRISTMAS HOUSEKEEPER

  CHAPTER ONE

  Salvio De Gennaruo stared at the lights as he rounded the headland. Flickering lights from the tall candles which gleamed in the window of the big, old house. They made him think of Christmas and he didn’t want to think about it—not with still six weeks left to go. Yet here in England the shops were already full with trees and tinsel and the kind of gifts surely no sane person would want for themselves.

  His mouth hardened, as the dark waters of the Atlantic crashed dangerously on the rocks beneath him.

  Christmas. The least wonderful time of the year in his opinion. No contest.

  He slowed his pace to a steady jog as dusk fell around him like a misty grey curtain. The rain was heavier now and large drops of water had started to lash against his body but he was oblivious to them, even though his bare legs were spattered with mud and his muscles were hot with the strain of exertion. He ran because he had to. Because he’d been taught to. Tough, physical exercise woven into the fabric of his day, no matter where in the world he was. A discipline which was as much a part of him as breathing and which made him hard and strong. He barely noticed that his wet singlet was now clinging to his torso or that his shorts were plastered to his rocky thighs.

  He thought about the evening ahead and, not for the first time, wondered why he had bothered coming. He was here because he wanted to buy a prime piece of land from his aristocratic host and was convinced the deal could be concluded more quickly in an informal setting. The man he was dealing with was notoriously difficult to pin down—a fact which Salvio’s assistant had remarked on, when she’d enquired whether she should accept the surprise invitation for dinner and an overnight stay.

  Salvio gave a grim smile. Perhaps he should have been grateful to have been granted access to Lord Avery’s magnificent Cornish house, which stood overlooking the fierce midwinter lash of the ocean. But gratitude was a quality which didn’t come easily to him, despite his huge wealth and all the luxury it afforded him. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to dinner tonight. Not with a hostess who’d been eying him up from the moment he’d arrived—her eyes lit with a predatory hunger which was by no means unusual, although it was an attitude he inevitably found tedious. Married women intent on seduction could be curiously unattractive, he thought disdainfully.