“I really don’t have time to be talking about my brother or leaning on you.”
“What do we need to do?”
“The florist dumped the arrangements in the kitchen and I need someone to place one on each round table.”
“Um…”
“Come on, Jeremy. It’ll be good for you. It’ll build character and earn you my gratitude.”
“That’s all well and good but I want more than gratitude.”
“Help me out and I’ll give you whatever you ask for.”
“Deal,” he said, holding open the door to the convention space and entering Bella’s world. He watched her direct her staff and realized he respected the way she worked. She didn’t micromanage anyone—just expected them to do the job they’d been assigned. And he noticed that everyone worked harder when she was around them. Not because they were afraid of her, he suspected, but to bask in the glow of her smile and the praise that accompanied it.
He told himself he wasn’t the same as these workers. That he was here to collect the woman who was contractually bound to him. But when she glanced at the finished tables and smiled at him, he felt something stir inside him.
Something that had nothing to do with lust. Something that wasn’t bound by a contract. Something he hoped like hell was going to go away when his time with Bella was up.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.
He walked away without saying a word because he wasn’t too sure that he was happy. He’d wanted Bella and gone after her with the single-minded determination he went after anything he wanted, and was only now realizing that getting her might not be his smartest business decision.
She’d expected Jeremy to whisk her out of the museum and to a private place where they’d be intimate. But when the bar association members started to arrive, some acquaintances of his were in the group. He signaled her to join him but she shook her head and motioned that she’d be a few minutes.
Every time she was in his presence he knocked her a little further off-kilter. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket to check the time and pretend she was busy instead of going to his side. She wasn’t ready to be at his side. Not now. She needed a reality check. The kind that focusing on the details of her job could deliver.
“There you are,” Shelley said, coming up behind her. She had a clipboard in one hand and a radio in the other. She looked like a staffer, unlike Bella, who was dressed for her date with Jeremy. She realized that she was right where she’d never wanted to be. Right on the cusp of two worlds. Her two worlds.
Her two lives. The one she’d once had and dreamed of getting back. And this one, the one she’d built from the wreckage.
“Please don’t give me bad news,” she said when Shelley reached her side.
The blonde had her hair pulled back in a ponytail and her button-down, oxford shirt open at the collar. She looked young but competent. “Geez. Is that my rep now?”
“Well you did keep coming to find me with another challenge to report.”
“Challenge…I like that. I’m going to use it the next time my boyfriend says I’m too much work.”
Shelley was a dear, sweet person who didn’t have a mean bone in her body. And her boyfriend took advantage of that. “Did you need something?”
“Yes. I’m playing delivery girl again.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small envelope. One that the florist had inadvertently put in the arrangements. That had been one of the first challenges of the day—removing all those picks with the blank cards in them.
Her name was written across the back of the cream-colored envelope. “Thanks, Shelley.”
“No problem. He’s very romantic.”
Bella had no idea how to respond to that. “We need to double-check the jackets on the waitstaff. I don’t want anyone going out there with stains.”
“I’ll double-check. You need to leave.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. Her duty manager had been involved in a car accident, so there was no senior person at the event. Bella had toyed with canceling on Jeremy, but Shelley had made a bid to be in charge, wanting to use this event to prove herself.
Shelley rolled her eyes. “Yes.”
“You’ve got my cell number, right?”
Shelley shook her head, reached over and took the museum radio from her hand. “You’re being challenging.”
Bella laughed. “You’re right. Sorry about that. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Have fun tonight,” Shelley said as she walked away.
Bella left the theater and went in the back to collect her purse. She’d left her car at the office since Jeremy had said he’d pick her up.
She lifted the back flap and stared down at the card inside. She pulled it out. It was a cheap generic one, the kind that florists used for bulk arrangements.
On it was simply a phone number. This was what Shelley had thought was romantic?
What had she expected? Some kind of love note? She was his mistress, not a woman he was seducing. She was a sure thing. And she was beginning to realize she had absolutely no idea how to convince him she should be more than a mistress.
She dialed it, a little disappointed. And mad at herself for being upset. She had no claims to Jeremy other than those he’d laid out in writing. Why had she forgotten that?
“Harper.”
“It’s Bella,” she said, moving away from the convention food and beverage staff, who were making a lot of noise as they readied all the dishes to go out to the tables at one time.
“Are you free now?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m all yours.”
“Mine? Not quite.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why didn’t you join me earlier?”
“I had some stuff to finish up.”
“Stuff? That sounds like an excuse. You’re my mistress, Bella. That means that when we are together—”
“I’m working tonight, Jeremy. That’s my first priority.”
“Why?”
“Why what?” she asked, stalling. She really had to figure out how to filter every thought that came into her head so that they didn’t all end up coming out of her mouth.
“Are we going to play this kind of game?”
“You started it,” she said.
She hated that he’d called her on avoiding him. She was nervous again, and that was beginning to bother her. Why hadn’t she figured him out yet? Normally it took her maybe two meetings with a person to decide how to deal with them. But with him…
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I was being sarcastic and it was uncalled for.”
“Bella, what am I going to do with you?”
“Anything your contract gives you the right to.”
He said nothing for a long moment and she heard the head of the Palm Beach Bar Association get up and start talking.
“I’ll meet you in the Tsai atrium and we can start our night.”
“Okay.”
She hung up before he had a chance to say anything else. No more nerves. She’d promised herself that this morning. She wanted more from Jeremy than six months and she wasn’t going to get that by hiding.
Seeing her tonight with her staff and the way she’d treated him when they were with other people showed him that she was still nervous about any intimacy between them. And he knew the quickest way to push past it was through seduction.
He had been to many events at the Norton during his lifetime and knew the museum like the back of his hand. He’d attended most of the events with one of his parents. Never the two of them together. They were happier apart, something his father had explained to Jeremy when he’d turned nine.
That talk about marriage and relationships had been diverted by a few innocent questions about sex. Because nine-year-old Jeremy hadn’t been too sure that Kell had known what he was talking about when he said that a boy’s penis had to get hard before he could have sex.
The sex part…well, his dad had firm opinion
s about it. He’d said that women saw sex as more than just a physical release. That a gentleman didn’t marry for sex, he had mistresses for sex. And that when a man found the right woman, sex was an incredible thing.
Bella stood in the center of the now empty atrium on the cracked ice terrazzo floor. Remembering his father’s advice about women and sex made him realize that he wanted Bella to be different. To somehow be the kind of woman that Lucinda must be for Daniel to still be so into her.
But he was afraid to take the risk of caring for her. He would likely only confirm that he was essentially his father’s son. After all, he was definitely his father’s progeny in the business world. Making money and turning a profit was something that came easily to him. As did the women…and there had never been anyone he wanted to marry.
And now, there Bella stood, her dress so close to the same deep blue as the tiles that she looked like part of the decor. An ethereal woman that he could only glimpse. He hated that. For most of his life he’d struggled with trying to hold on to people in his life. He didn’t have a lot of lasting relationships.
The heels of his Italian loafers made a soft sound as he approached and she pivoted to face him. He hesitated there, unable to move toward her. Feeling once again that punch in the gut. She was more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen.
He walked up to her and had to fight the urge to put his arms around her. She was a mistress. His mistress. His.
That word resonated inside him. He knew it wasn’t politically correct but it suited him to claim her even if only in his own mind. There was something soothing about knowing exactly what to expect from another person.
She turned to look at him. “I love this place. It’s so soothing and quiet at night.”
“Then you’re going to love the surprise I have planned for you.”
“Love it?”
There was skepticism in her voice, but he wasn’t daunted. Now that he had a plan, he was back on his game. Seduction was the key to wooing her and having her.
“Wait and see.”
He took her hand in his and led her to a small, wedge-shaped room off the atrium. The J. Ira and Nick Harris Family Pavilion. There was a small table set in the middle of the room in front of the glass doors that led to the Italian gardens outside.
But it was the ceiling that made the room. The Chihuly glass was spectacular and Jeremy knew he’d made the right decision when he heard her breath catch.
Her hand fell away from his and she walked farther into the room. The lighting behind the Chihuly ceiling painted the room in hues of aquatic blues and greens.
“Jeremy…this is lovely. Are we having dinner here?”
“Yes,” he said, crossing to the freestanding ice-bucket to pour them both a glass of champagne.
“This is…okay, I do love it.”
“What did I tell you?”
“You’re doing the arrogance thing again.”
“In this case I think I’ve earned the right.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that.”
He handed her the champagne flute and then tipped his glass to hers. “To the next six months.”
She nodded and took a delicate sip of her drink, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. But he saw her hand tremble as she lifted the glass to her lips.
She put her glass on the table and walked slowly around the room, observing the ceiling from every angle. When she came back to the table, he signaled to the waitstaff to begin serving their meal.
He held her chair, seating her. When he pulled his own chair out he saw the small gift box he’d asked to be put there.
He picked it up and placed it on the table.
She glanced at the gift box and then back up at him. He couldn’t read the expression in her usually expressive eyes.
“You don’t have to seduce me,” she said carefully.
“That’s my privilege.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh.” He handed her the package and watched as she held it carefully between her fingers.
“I’d rather you make a donation to charity than keep giving me gifts.”
He shook his head. “Mistresses should take as many gifts from their lovers as possible.”
He’d hurt her. He could see it in the way she subtly flinched and sank back in her chair. She let the small present fall to the table.
He felt like an ass. He’d been on his game just a few moments earlier. Why had he said that? It shouldn’t matter to him if she didn’t want his gifts—and yet it did. She was already blurring the lines between mistress and…girlfriend.
“Just open the present, Bella.”
She removed the ribbon and the wrapping and then opened the box. Inside was a small placard that showed a Chihuly sculpture he’d ordered for her. It would be delivered in three weeks time.
“Thank you, Jeremy.”
He shrugged like it meant nothing to him, but it was too late to pretend with himself. His gut-deep confirmation earlier that she was his made that impossible. He could only fall back on the contract they had between them. Hope that six months of holding her would be enough.
After they ate, he took her on a moonlit stroll through the Renaissance-inspired gardens and then led the way back to his car.
She’d relaxed during the walk but his tension had increased. He wanted her. And that seemed more dangerous now then it had at the beginning of the evening when he’d felt safe and protected by his contract. He could have everything he wanted from her. But now he knew that their arrangement wasn’t going to protect him from the emotions that she brought swirling to the surface.
Six
Bella had no idea where they were going as they flew down the highway. The top was down on Jeremy’s convertible and the breeze made it impossible to talk, which was something of a relief.
Tonight had made her feel every inch the pampered woman of a wealthy man. There was something very attractive to her about being Jeremy’s mistress. The problem was that the glimpses she’d seen of the possessive man Jeremy was made her want him for more than a temporary affair.
She hoped they weren’t headed for the town house he’d leased. Suddenly, she thought of it as a test for him. If he took her to the townhome, then she’d know she hadn’t made any progress in getting him to see her as more than a mistress. But it wouldn’t make it any easier for her to remember that this was an arrangement and not a real love affair.
But damn it all, it was starting to feel that way. He should have just taken her to dinner instead of going out of his way to have a meal catered for them. And she knew the Norton’s convention policy—they had minimums like everyone else. He must have spent a fortune on dinner.
Money wasn’t an issue for Jeremy. She should have remembered that. Maybe the evening was nothing more than a convenience. Maybe what she’d interpreted as a romantic gesture was just the way he operated.
She didn’t think so. The Chihuly glass sculpture was breathtaking, even in a picture. She wanted to take the card out of her purse and look at it again. But she didn’t.
As they neared town, she glanced over at him. His attention stayed focused on the road and she noticed that he handled the car with ease. Not surprising. He did everything with ease.
He slowed even further and pulled into the parking lot of the Palm Beach hotel. The hotel was old and refined, a grande dame in the area. It was known for luxury and quality.
Please don’t let this be where he is taking me, she thought. She didn’t want the first time they made love to be in a hotel. She wanted it to be in a place that meant something to one of them.
As he neared the valet parking station, she reached over and put her hand on his thigh. “What are we doing here?”
“Meeting some business associates for a drink.”
More time spent waiting. The tension that had been riding her for the last two days—heck, to be honest, the last three years—tightened painfully inside her. She knew that Daniel Posner was his business par
tner. And Lucinda Cannon was Daniel’s wife. She wasn’t ready for another meeting with either of them.
She didn’t want to add another nerve-inducing element to the evening, and talking to his business associates wasn’t going to relax her. But she’d never say that to him. She owed him. He’d spent an insane amount of money on her already and she hadn’t done anything other than kiss him.
“Is that okay?” he asked, looking pointedly down at his leg.
She was digging her nails into his thigh. “Of course.”
She hastily removed her hand, putting it back in her lap. Oh, my God, this was getting out of control. Why had she ever thought she could do this? Because she’d been desperate. And desperation was the creator of opportunity.
It didn’t feel like opportunity right now, as she looked at the beautiful hotel entrance. A place where she’d once attended cotillion dances and afternoon teas with her mother’s circle of friends. She’d taken tennis lessons from a Wimbledon champion at this hotel. And played golf with her father a lifetime ago.
“Who are we meeting?”
“My partner and his wife, plus a very important client, and his wife.”
“Daniel?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?” he asked.
She shrugged, determined to play it cool this evening. She refused to give Lucinda the power of unnerving her, though her sweaty palms said the other woman already had done so.
“Not at all. Who’s the client?” she asked. This might be the perfect opportunity for her to show him that she’d make a better wife than mistress. The kind of woman he’d want by his side in business and pleasure.
“Frederick Merriweather. We’ve been trying to convince him to merge with our company.”
“And tonight is another attempt?”
Jeremy pulled the car to the side of the driveway and stopped. “Yes, it is. I’m glad to see that you’re so interested in this meeting.”
“Why?”
He shrugged.
Six-Month Mistress (The Mistresses Book 2) Page 5
