‘That young lady needs to be taught a lesson,’ Zach stormed as they stepped out of the building to hail a taxi.
Dizzy gave a secretive smile. ‘That’s just what I’ve been thinking.’
Zach looked down at her suspiciously. ‘What are you up to?’ He voiced his reservation.
‘Nothing,’ she dismissed innocently. ‘Yet,’ she added softly.
‘That’s what I was afraid of.’ He frowned with the look of a man who had suddenly realised he had his very own ‘tiger by the tail’. But the satisfied smile that instantly followed the frown negated any idea that he was dissatisfied with the arrangement; rather, he looked as if he were going to enjoy every moment of the rest of his life. ‘Do you think we might have a few months’ grace before you start teaching Christi this lesson?’ he grimaced.
‘Of course!’ She looked at him with widely innocent eyes. ‘I have the new Claudia Laurence cover to keep me occupied for—’
‘You have me to keep you occupied,’ Zach growled with mock ferocity.
This laughing together was a side of a man and woman together that Dizzy had never experienced. From her memories of them together, her parents had either been arguing or not talking at all, so that the closest she had come to this warm satisfaction of teasing each other had been with her friends. And being like this with Zach was nothing like that.
But all the laughter stopped once they reached her studio. Zach took her in his arms and made such exquisite love to her that tears streamed down her cheeks as they reached total fulfilment together, the moment so poignantly beautiful she never wanted it to end.
Even when that aching pleasure did end, the closeness didn’t, and she knew a oneness with Zach that totally engulfed and protected her.
Talking about her parents, her childhood, didn’t seem so difficult to do any more, although, as Zach tensed beside her in the narrow bed, she knew he was furiously angry at the suffering her parents had caused her.
She didn’t look at him as she told him how her father had never wanted her, how her mother had walked out on them both when she couldn’t take any more. She trembled slightly as she remembered how she had been bewildered by her mother’s disappearance, pleading with her father to tell her where she had gone. His answer had been to send her to her bedroom without company or food for the rest of the day, the dark shadows of Knollsley Hall taking on frightening proportions to the lonely little girl who cried alone for the mother who hadn’t wanted her and the father who couldn’t love her.
‘The bastard!’ Zach rasped fiercely. ‘My God, no wonder that painting of Knollsley Hall gave you the shudders! And that little girl in “Lost Child” is you, isn’t she?’ he realised with a pained groan.
Dizzy shook her head. ‘I think that would be crediting my mother with feelings she doesn’t have. I’ve always believed the painting was a self-portrait, her way of expressing her own unhappiness with my father, the indulged prison she felt he had locked her into. She has the same colouring as me, you see, even down to this fly-away hair,’ she said, attempting to lighten the tension, while Zach’s arms gripped her tightly to him.
He stroked her hair tenderly. ‘I love your hair.’ He kissed the silky softness.
She gave a shaky smile. ‘My mother couldn’t have cared anything about me, because she never even attempted to see me after she ran away from my father, didn’t care that she had left me with the monster she couldn’t stand being married to,’ she added bitterly.
Zach breathed unevenly beneath her cheek. ‘Tell me what else he did to you,’ he encouraged tautly.
She did, vividly remembering how she had met the same terrifying fate every time she asked when her mother was coming home, so that in the end she stopped even mentioning her mother, for fear of being sent to the loneliness of the room that was fast becoming her own prison, the dark rooms and corridors of Knollsley Hall becoming a nightmare to her.
Zach held her close as the tears fell softly against her cheeks, and she told him of the fear she still had of darkness, how most nights she read with the light on until she either fell into an exhausted sleep or the dawn began to break.
‘You’ll never be alone in the darkness again,’ he assured her raggedly, kissing the tears from her cheeks. ‘And you’ll never have to even think of your parents again. Two people like that don’t deserve the beauty of a daughter like you!’
She gave a shaky smile, relieved the truth was all told. ‘You could be a little biased,’ she gently teased him.
He frowned. ‘I’m a lot biased,’ he agreed firmly. ‘I loved you the minute I saw you, and I’ll go on loving you until the day I die.’
Dizzy responded with all the warmth there was in her, their lovemaking even more fiery than the first time, all the shadows forgotten as they once again lay replete in each other’s arms.
Zach absently played with the wildness of her hair, he was flushed and younger looking, his face softened by love. ‘You still haven’t told me what DC stands for,’ he realised lazily.
All the secrets hadn’t been revealed! She had completely forgotten the mystery that still surrounded her names.
She leant up on one elbow, bending to whisper softly in Zach’s ear.
‘Really?’ he gasped as she straightened. ‘Good lord,’ he added dazedly.
Dizzy laughed softly at his reaction, confident she would know nothing but the complete happiness of being loved by Zach for the rest of her life.
* * *
Dizzy sat on the grassy slope, watching her husband as he cavorted about in the water, smiling brightly as he saw her there and swam to the shore, gasping breathlessly as he stepped naked from the water.
Almost three months of marriage had given him a relaxed and confident appearance; he moved with a feline grace that never ceased to make Dizzy’s heart spin.
He was beautiful, and in that moment she wanted him with a need that bordered on desperation, standing up to slowly begin removing her clothes.
Zach grinned as he helped her with the buttons to her blouse. ‘I thought you would never join me,’ he murmured appreciatively as he bared her breasts for his enjoyment.
Dizzy’s back arched as he drew one sensitised peak into his mouth.
The seclusion of this lake had become their own little paradise, Zach having confided in her that he had discovered the delights of nude bathing while researching the practicality of it for one of his books. Dizzy was more than willing to aid him with all his research now!
It was some time later before she was able to think clearly again. She was nestled snugly on top of Zach’s body, their breathing slowly steadying.
She kissed the golden skin of his chest. ‘I have some news for you,’ she muttered between kisses.
‘Hm?’ Zach groaned his sleepy satisfaction.
‘We’re going to have a baby.’
She had known he wouldn’t remain sleepy for long after she had made this announcement, and suddenly found herself lying on the blanket at his side as he stared down at her incredulously.
‘Don’t look so shocked, Zach,’ she teased him as he remained speechless. ‘It’s perfectly natural, after what we’ve been doing constantly for the last three months,’ she told him indulgently.
His stunned gaze moved slowly over the slenderness of her body, lingering on the flatness of her stomach before moving sharply to her face. ‘Are you sure?’ he breathed raggedly.
She knew the reason for his dazed disbelief: the two of them had made a conscious decision two months ago to try for a baby, but neither of them had expected to be so immediately successful.
‘Oh, I’m sure, Zach.’ She stretched lazily. ‘They taught us in biology at school that—’
‘I didn’t mean are you sure about that,’ he reproved impatiently at her teasing smile. ‘I meant, are you sure about—’ His hand came to rest possessively on the flatness of her stomach.
She made a concerted effort not to laugh with sheer happiness. ‘I opened a tin of pilchards for m
y lunch just now and they made me feel nauseous,’ she told him in a deadpan voice.
‘You are pregnant!’ He gave a joyous cry, sweeping her up into his arms, then becoming suddenly still as he looked down at her anxiously. ‘Are you all right? Is the baby all right? You shouldn’t be lying on this damp grass in your condition!’ He hastily began to bundle her back into her clothes.
‘I’m fine.’ She helped him as best she could, pushing her arms into her blouse, as he seemed intent on strangling her with it. ‘The baby is fine. And the grass isn’t damp,’ she teased indulgently. ‘It may be September, but it hasn’t rained for weeks.’
‘I don’t want you catching a chill.’ Zach didn’t seem to have heard her reassurances, he was so intent on dressing her. ‘I’m going to be with you the whole time, you know,’ he told her as he zipped her back into her denims. ‘No one is going to push me out of the delivery-room just as my daughter is about to be born!’ he added firmly.
‘We have months to go yet,’ she laughed happily. ‘And it could be a son,’ she warned.
He shook his head. ‘A daughter, as beautiful as her mother.’
‘But not with such awful names!’ Dizzy wrinkled her nose self-disgustedly.
Zach grinned. ‘I think one Delilah Cleopatra is enough in any family!’
‘Ssh!’ She looked about them anxiously.
He laughed at her hunted expression. ‘I’ll never forget the look on the vicar’s face when you asked him if he had to read out your full names!’
Dizzy gave him a reproving glance. ‘It almost stopped me marrying you!’
‘No chance,’ he said confidently, taking her into his arms. ‘Look at it this way, Dizzy,’ he taunted at her outraged expression. ‘By marrying me, only a few guests heard your “skeleton in the cupboard”. If you had refused to go through with it, the whole world would have known about Delilah Cleopatra when I gave the information to the media!’
‘You wouldn’t have dared!’ Her eyes were wide with indignation.
‘Of course I would,’ he said without remorse. ‘Then you would have had no reason not to marry me.’
‘Except that you would have been in hospital in traction,’ she frowned fiercely.
He chuckled softly. ‘I love it when you get aggressive.’
‘Zachariah Bennett—’
‘Yes—Dizzy Bennett?’ he prompted gently.
She became suddenly still in his arms, her expression softening. ‘I love you,’ she told him breathlessly.
His own laughter faded. ‘I love you, too. But then, that’s as it should be between two people who are going to spend the rest of their lives living and loving together.’
The rest of their lives …
Yes, she didn’t doubt it would be that way between her and Zach.
How lucky she was that the one man she had known she could love was in love with her, too. That ‘one chance at love’ had been all she needed!
* * * * *
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CAROLE MORTIMER,
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Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of USA Today bestselling author
Sharon’s Kendrick’s latest book,
SECRETS OF A BILLIONAIRE’S MISTRESS
One Night With Consequences
When one night…leads to pregnancy!
Waitress Darcy Denton isn’t Renzo Sabatini’s type. But unworldly Darcy becomes addicted to their passionate nights. And then she discovers she’s pregnant! Darcy dare not tell Renzo. But it’s only a matter of months before he claims what’s his…
Read on to get a glimpse of
SECRETS OF A BILLIONAIRE’S MISTRESS
CHAPTER ONE
RENZO SABATINI WAS unbuttoning his shirt when the doorbell rang. He felt the beat of expectation. The familiar tug of heat to his groin. He was half tempted to pull the shirt from his shoulders so Darcy could slide her fingers over his skin, closely followed by those inventive lips of hers. The soft lick of her tongue could help him forget what lay ahead. He thought about Tuscany and the closing of a chapter. About the way some memories could still be raw even when so many years had passed and maybe that was why he never really stopped to think about them.
But why concentrate on darkness when Darcy was all sunshine and light? And why rush at sex when they had the whole night ahead—a smorgasbord of sensuality which he could enjoy at his leisure with his latest and most unexpected lover? A woman who demanded nothing other than that he satisfy her—something which was easy since he had only to touch her pale skin to grow so hard that it hurt. His mouth dried. Four months in and he was as bewitched by her as he had been from the start.
In many ways he was astonished it had continued this long when their two worlds were so different. She was not his usual type of woman and he was very definitely not her type of man. He was into clean lines and minimalism, while Darcy was all voluptuous curves and lingerie which could barely contain her abundant flesh. His mouth curved into a hard smile. In reality it should never have lasted beyond one night but her tight body had been difficult to walk away from. It still was.
The doorbell rang again and the glance he shot at his wristwatch was touched with irritation. Was she daring to be impatient when she wasn’t supposed to be here for another half-hour? Surely she knew the rules by now…that she was expected to fit around his schedule, rather than the other way round?
Barefooted, he walked through the spacious rooms of his Belgravia apartment, pulling open the front door to see Darcy Denton standing there—small of stature and impossible to ignore—her magnificent curls misted with rain and tugged back into a ponytail so that only the bright red colour was on show. She wore a light raincoat, tightly belted to emphasise her tiny waist, but underneath she was still in her waitress’s uniform because she lived on the other side of London, an area Renzo had never visited—and he was perfectly content for it to stay that way. They’d established very quickly that if she went home after her shift to change, it wasted several hours—even if he sent his car to collect her. And Renzo was a busy man with an architectural practice which spanned several continents. His time was too precious to waste, which was why she always came straight from work with her overnight bag—though that was a largely unnecessary detail since she was rarely anything other than naked when she was with him.
He stared down into her green eyes, which glittered like emeralds in porcelain-pale skin and, as always, his blood began to fizz with expectation and lust. ‘You’re early,’ he observed softly. ‘Did you time your visit especially because you knew I’d be undressing?’
Darcy answered him with a tight smile as he opened the door to let her in. She was cold and she was wet and it had been the most awful day. A customer had spilt tea over her uniform. Then a child had been sick. She’d looked out of the window at the end of her shift to discover that the rain had started and someone must have taken her umbrella. And Renzo Sabatini was standing there in the warmth of his palatial apartment, looking glowing and delectable—making the assumption that she had nothing better to do than to time her visits just so she would find him half naked. Could she ever have met a man more arrogant?
Yet she’d known what she was letting herself in for when she’d started this crazy affair. When she’d fought a silent battle against everything she’d known to be wrong. Because powerful men who dallied with waitresses only wanted one thing, didn’t they?
She’d lost that particular battle and ended up in Renzo’s king-size bed—but nobody could say that her eyes hadn’t been open at the time. Well, some of the time at least—the rest o
f the time they’d fluttered to a quivering close as he had thrust deeply inside her until she was sobbing with pleasure. After resisting him as hard as she could, she’d decided to resist no more. Or maybe the truth was that she hadn’t been able to stop herself from falling into his arms. He’d kissed her and that had been it. She hadn’t known that a kiss could make you feel that way. She hadn’t realised that desire could make you feel as if you were floating. Or flying. She’d surrendered her virginity to him and, after his shocked reaction to discovering he was her first lover, he had introduced her to more pleasure than she’d thought possible, though in a life spectacularly short on the pleasure front that wouldn’t have been difficult, would it?
For a while things had been fine. More than fine. She spent the night with him whenever he was in the country and had a space in his diary—and sometimes she spent the following day there, too. He cooked her eggs and played her music she’d never heard before—dreamy stuff featuring lots of violins—while he pored over the fabulously intricate drawings which would one day be transformed into the glittering and iconic skyscrapers for which he was famous.
But lately something had started to niggle away inside her. Was it her conscience? Her sense that her already precarious self-worth was being eroded by him hiding her away in his palatial apartment, like a guilty secret? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she’d started to analyse what she’d become and hadn’t liked the answer she’d come up with.
She was a wealthy man’s plaything. A woman who dropped her panties whenever he clicked those elegant olive fingers.
But she was here now and it was stupid to let her reservations spoil the evening ahead, so she changed her tight smile into a bright smile as she dumped her overnight bag on the floor and tugged the elastic band from her hair. Shaking her damp curls free, she couldn’t deny the satisfaction it gave her to see the way Renzo’s eyes had darkened in response—although her physical appeal to him had never been in any question. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her and she suspected she knew why. Because she was different. Working class, for a start. She hadn’t been to college—in fact, she’d missed out on more schooling than she should have done and nearly everything she knew had been self-taught. She was curvy and redheaded, when usually he went for slender brunettes—that was if all the photos in the newspapers were to be believed. They were certainly mismatched on just about every level, except when it came to bed.
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