The Millionaire's Mistress

by Miranda Lee

  ‘I’m not. I just...you’re...you’re rushing me. I hate that!’

  One of his eyebrows arched, and a sardonic smile twisted his mouth. ‘You want to make me wait, is that it?’

  ‘I...I think I want to make myself wait.’

  ‘Ah...’

  She had no idea what that ‘ah’ meant, except that it sent a startlingly sexual shiver running down her spine.

  ‘And you call me wicked,’ he murmured. ‘All right, have it your way. When will you go out with me, then?’

  When...

  Justine knew his asking her to go out with him was the same as his asking her to go to bed with him. It was a fair enough presumption, she supposed. She’d led him on, no doubt about that. And, in truth, she wanted Marcus to be her first lover. She could see now that her waiting for true love was a silly romantic dream, fuelled by a belief that she would need an incredibly deep and special love to surrender her body in total intimacy to a man. She’d thought in terms of making a sacrifice, never participating in the act for pure pleasure.

  What she’d felt with Marcus this afternoon already was pure pleasure. Well...maybe not so pure...but definitely pleasure—pleasure she could not turn her back on.

  But along with a natural fear of the big event lay a fear she might scare him off, once he discovered her lack of experience. Justine could see he thought her a right raver. It was an understandable conclusion, given the way they’d met and the circles she moved in. Virginity was a rarity. Promiscuity more the norm. These days boyfriends expected to sleep with their girlfriends—maybe not on their first date, but sooner or later.

  Marcus was a mature man. He wanted a mature sexual relationship with her. He would move on to another more willing woman if she said no.

  Justine was amazed at how sick that thought made her feel.

  ‘When, Justine?’ he growled.

  ‘Saturday night,’ she blurted out.

  ‘Saturday night! My God, that’s an eternity away. Why not tonight?’

  ‘I have to work tonight, remember? And every night this fortnight.’

  ‘Damn! I knew that was a bad idea when I agreed. Look, what say I arrange for someone else to do it? We can spend each evening together, instead. I’ll give you any money you need.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What do you mean, no?’ he demanded irritably.

  ‘I mean, no, you are not going to arrange for someone else to do my job. And, no, you are not going to give me any money at all! I aim to earn what money I need in life. Legitimately. As I told you once before, I don’t go to bed with men for money.’

  Oh, no? Marcus thought cynically. He doubted he’d be here with her at all if he wasn’t who he was, with a bank at his disposal.

  ‘You also said wild horses wouldn’t get you into bed with me,’ he pointed out dryly, watching for a sign of guilt, looking for any evidence that her passion was not mutual but merely practical. After all, if she wanted him as much as she seemed to, why the delay in consummating their desire for each other?

  In truth, he doubted her asking him to wait was an erotic game, designed to increase the intensity of her sexual satisfaction. He’d found the games women played were more about power than pleasure. He was the one to be teased unbearably by the wait, to be brought to a pitch where he would do anything she asked just for release. He wondered if she’d already moved on to plan B, wondered how much was real and how much was just an act.

  No matter, he thought darkly. Saturday night would come. And, by God, so would he!

  ‘I think I should get on with showing you the things you came to see,’ she said abruptly, before throwing him a troubled glance. ‘That’s if you really do want to buy them. You’re not going to confess you only came here this afternoon to seduce me, are you?’

  Seduce her? What a laugh that was! She needed about as much seducing as Mata Hari. He’d never known a woman to go up in flames so quickly. In hindsight, he could not possibly see how she could have faked that scenario on the bed. Her body spoke an automatic and instinctive language under his touch. He had been its master there for a while. My God, the way her nipples had sprung upright at the lightest touch. The way she’d moaned. And writhed.

  Hell, he had to stop thinking about that, or he’d end up in the funny farm by nightfall, let alone by Saturday night!

  ‘I’m not going to confess another single thing,’ he growled. I take it you won’t reconsider my suggestion to give this a miss for now?’

  ‘You take it correctly!’ she pronounced firmly.

  ‘Then let’s get on with it,’ he muttered.

  It was a very trying afternoon. Marcus found it hard to keep his mind on proceedings to begin with, though once he recognised the value of what he was being offered his long-trained mercenary nature came to the fore.

  The paintings she showed him were by well-known Australian artists, and quite rare. Worth every cent she’d put on them, and possibly more. The antiques were just as rare, mostly small and quite unique tables. There was an eighteenth-century walnut and rosewood inlaid gaming table that would have brought a small fortune at auction. The workmanship was so outstanding Marcus felt guilty taking it for the price. When he said so, however, she waved a dismissive hand.

  ‘I’m happy with the price I put on everything. I’m also happy thinking that they’re going to someone who will value them. I know you’ll look after Grandma’s things as I would have, especially the paintings.’

  ‘They’re yours, Justine?’ he asked, frowning. ‘Not your mother’s?’

  ‘Everything I’ve shown you is mine. Grandma left them to me in her will. I didn’t like to sell Mum’s things. She’s lost enough already.’

  He was touched, and at the same time perturbed, especially when it looked as if she was suddenly fighting back tears. ‘Justine, if you don’t want to sell these things, please say so.’

  ‘There’s no question of wanting to, Marcus, but having to, I’m afraid. It’s either this or lose the house, and I know Mum couldn’t bear that.’

  He frowned further. Was she manipulating him here? Angling for more of his help? Playing on his sympathy? She claimed she wanted to survive on her own, but was that true?

  Plan B popped into his mind again. A wealthy husband would solve all her problems. Marcus was almost tempted to offer himself, since she wouldn’t take his money otherwise. Wives didn’t seem to have any trouble spending their husbands’ money.

  But the possibility she might say yes, plus the inevitability of another divorce, kept his mouth firmly shut on that subject. As Felix had once told him oh, so wisely. ‘You don’t have to marry the girl...’ He didn’t. He just had to wait till Saturday night. Meanwhile, he would offer an option for her to repurchase any of her grandmother’s things in the foreseeable future, since he would be keeping them as an investment for some years to come.

  ‘Justine, I...’

  ‘Please don’t go making any new offer I’m going to have to refuse, Marcus,’ she snapped. ‘I only took your loan because I believe I can pay it back. And I accepted your offer to buy these items because I knew you were getting your money’s worth. No charity was involved, simply a fair exchange. You once told me there was no quick and easy way in life. I believe you now. Daddy’s death has made me face lots of things about myself. Yes, I was a spoiled little miss with a silver spoon in my mouth. I never had to do without, or budget, or work for a living. But I’m learning. And I’ll learn more, if you let me.’

  She drew herself up tall and set uncompromising eyes upon him. ‘You want to be my friend? Fine. I’d like that. You want to be my boyfriend? That’s fine too. I’ll bet you’re great in bed. What I don’t want is for you to become my sugar-daddy. That I don’t need. Okay?’

  He was impressed, both by her speech and her sentiments. As long as they were for real...

  ‘Believe me,’ he said, ‘the last thing I want is to become is your sugar-daddy. I wasn’t going to offer you money. I simply wanted to say thank you.’<
br />
  She gave him a wary look. ‘For what?’

  ‘For giving me the opportunity to possess and enjoy some very unique treasures. I promise to look after them for you, and if you ever want to buy any of them back again, they’re yours at the same price.’

  Her eyes flooded with tears and she looked away, blinking rapidly.

  Marcus could not help but be moved. She was a more deeply feeling girl than he’d previously given her credit for. He actually began to believe that everything she was doing wasn’t so much a matter of selfishly clinging to a comfortable lifestyle, but out of genuine caring for her mother and her home.

  He placed a comforting hand on her disturbingly bare shoulder, but didn’t say anything. Words were impossible as he battled the urge to haul her into his arms once more.

  She threw him a brave smile through soggy lashes. ‘Sorry,’ she said, and dashed away the last of the tears with the back of her hand. ‘It’s not like me to be weepy. Thank you so much for that offer. That’s one I won’t refuse. You’re so right. Grandma’s treasures are unique.’

  Marcus let his hand drop away from her satiny smooth flesh, his stomach contracting at the thought that the most unique treasure of all he wanted to possess and enjoy was Justine Montgomery herself. He just hoped the price was not going to be too high.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘NO!’ TRUDY gasped over the telephone after Justine had related a slightly edited version of the day’s events. ‘I don’t believe it!’

  ‘But you were the one who said Marcus fancied me in the first place!’ Justine protested.

  ‘That’s not the part I don’t believe, silly. It’s your fancying him back I don’t believe.’

  ‘I know. I find that hard to believe myself. He’s just left and I simply had to tell someone. I couldn’t tell Mum. She’s still got Tom with her.’

  ‘Who’s Tom?’

  ‘Our gardener.’

  ‘I thought you said you couldn’t afford a gardener.’

  ‘We can’t. But he’s insisting on doing it for nothing. He says he doesn’t need the money and that he would be at a loss without the work. I have a feeling he’s sweet on Mum. He’s a widower, you know. I think she likes him too. She was all atwitter over afternoon tea. And she didn’t gush over Marcus like I thought she would. Tom got all her attention.

  ‘Anyway, enough about Mum and Tom. I rang you up to talk about Marcus and me. I need your advice about something. Trudy, I’m going out with him next Saturday night and he’s going to have a fit when he finds out I’m a virgin. I just know he will.’

  ‘My God, you’re going to sleep with him on your first date? I mean, this is you we’re talking about, isn’t it, Jussie, not me?’

  ‘Yes.’ Justine sighed. ‘It’s me.’ She knew it sounded totally out of character, but she also knew she wouldn’t be able to resist Marcus if he started making love to her.

  And he would. She just knew he would! He hadn’t wanted to take her to his house this afternoon to play chess!

  ‘My God, what did he do to you today? Put a spell on you or something?’

  Perhaps, Justine conceded. She was totally bewitched and besotted with the man. He’d filled her every thought since he’d left the house only fifteen minutes earlier. Yet already it felt like a lifetime.

  ‘He’s not what I thought he was,’ she said. ‘He’s...he’s...’

  ‘A banker,’ came Trudy’s dry remark. ‘Never forget that. And he was once married to the biggest trollop since Jezebel. Or so Father said. I didn’t know her myself. Father says he’s once bitten ninety times shy. He won’t marry you, Jussie.’

  ‘But I don’t want him to marry me.’ The very thought had never crossed her mind!

  ‘This is me you’re talking to, remember? I know you, Jussie. If you fancy the guy that much, I’ll bet my bottom dollar you’re already falling in love with him. Once you’ve lost your virginity to him you’ll be head over heels and thinking about foreverland. Especially if he proves to be a good lover—which thankfully, I doubt.’

  ‘He will be a good lover,’ Justine said, quivering at the memory of what he’d done to her on her mother’s bed.

  ‘You sound very sure of that. Good Lord, what did he do to you today? I don’t believe this. I was only joking the other night when I said you might be turned on by that cold-blooded devil.’

  ‘Marcus is not at all cold-blooded.’

  ‘She’s defending him now,’ Trudy muttered on the other end of the line. ‘The other day she hated him!’

  ‘I was wrong about him.’

  ‘Maybe you weren’t.’

  ‘I thought you’d be pleased. You’ve been at me for ages to give sex a fair go.’

  Trudy was disturbingly silent at the other end. ‘I’m not in love with him!’ Justine insisted.

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘I see there’s no point in asking for your advice, then,’ she snapped, and hung up.

  The telephone rang back straight away and she reluctantly answered it, knowing her mother was out in the garden with Tom.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Trudy said. ‘I’m a bitch. But I don’t want you to get hurt. Look, I know I used to tease you about your waiting for true love to come along, but underneath I thought it was rather sweet.’

  Justine’s chin began to quiver. Before she knew it, she’d burst into tears.

  ‘Don’t cry, Jussie,’ Trudy begged. ‘Please don’t cry.’

  Justine got a hold of herself pretty quickly. Truly she was having an emotional day. First she’d cried with Marcus over her grandma’s things. Now she was crying over her lost romantic dream.

  ‘I’m all right,’ she sniffled. ‘Really.’

  ‘No, you’re not. You’ve had a rotten time lately, and you deserve to have some fun. Go out with Marcus by all means, and go to bed with him, if you want to. Just keep a lock on that tender heart of yours. You’re not made for casual sex, Jussie. If you were, you’d have been doing it all along.’

  ‘He probably won’t want me when he finds out I’m a virgin,’ she wailed.

  ‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that,’ came Trudy’s dry reply. ‘He might want you all the more.’

  ‘Oh? I would have thought he’d run a mile.’

  “Why?’

  ‘Because my virginity will shatter all his preconceptions about me. Plus all his expectations. He disapproved of what I did at the bank last Friday, but he was tempted all the same. He believes I know my way around a man’s bedroom, not to mention a man’s body. He says he wants to be my friend, Trudy, but I think he only wants a fling with a young woman of the world!’

  ‘Mmm. I think you could be right’

  ‘I can improvise with the foreplay part. I’ve read enough to have some clues. But that’s not going to help much when it comes down to the act itself. I don’t want him to know that I haven’t done it before. Is there any way I can get around that?’

  ‘Gee, Jussie, I don’t know...’

  ‘What happened in your case?’

  ‘It hurt like hell.’

  ‘Oh, golly.’

  ‘But I have a girlfriend who swears her first time was a breeze. No pain. Nothing. There again, she was a mad horsewoman—switched to riding men with no trouble at all!’

  Justine closed her eyes. This was a crazy and embarrassing conversation.

  ‘This is silly, Trudy,’ she said. ‘Maybe I should just tell him the truth.’

  ‘Perhaps that would be for the best.’

  ‘You think he’ll dump me then, don’t you?’

  ‘I think he’ll think twice.’

  ‘Good. That’s what I want him to do. Last Friday at the bank I convinced him I was something I wasn’t. I’d like the opportunity to redress that opinion.’

  ‘You want his good opinion?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, dear...’

  ‘I’m not in love with him!’

  ‘I heard you the first time.’

  ‘Nobody ever believes me,’ Justin
e wailed.

  ‘I believe you. Now, hang up, Jussie, or you’ll be late for work. It’s gone four-thirty. Didn’t you say you had to be at the bank by six?’

  ‘Yes, but it’s not far. Only down at Chatswood.’

  ‘Don’t forget, it’s peak hour traffic. He’s not going to be there tonight, is he?’

  ‘Marcus, you mean?’

  ‘Who else?’

  ‘I don’t think so. He had the rest of the day off. Why?’

  ‘Men like him always work late. Even later if they fancy the cleaner.’

  ‘You have a wicked mind.’

  ‘Yeah. And I’m only a girl. Imagine what kind of mind a man of thirty-five has. What are you going to wear?’

  They supply an overall at the bank.’

  ‘An overall’s good. Very hard to undress a girl in an overall.’

  ‘I’m not going to listen to any more of this.’

  ‘All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  ‘I won’t!’

  ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow. Better still, I’ll drop round.’

  ‘You do that. You can be useful for once and help me sell my car.’

  ‘Sell your car! But you need your car.’

  ‘I need a car, not one worth what mine is worth. I’m going to trade down and bank the difference. You’ve no idea how much it costs to live, Trudy.’

  ‘Tell me about it tomorrow.’

  ‘Don’t come before noon. I’ll be wrecked after tonight.’

  ‘Mmm,’ Trudy said salaciously.

  ‘Oh, stop that!’ Justine snapped, and hung up again.

  Marcus had no intention of going back to the bank when he left Justine’s place. He drove home and went for a long swim, which cooled his blood as well as his ardour. He climbed out after twenty laps, suitably deflated, dragged on a bathrobe and set about making himself a snack and some coffee. He switched on the television and settled back to watch the five o’clock news while he ate.

  The newsreader came on. She was pretty and blonde, with a nice smile. But not a patch on Justine, whose face would launch a thousand ships...her figure, a million. He would never forget the sight of her perfect pink-tipped breasts, or the way those breasts had responded to him. He could still see her in his mind’s eye, lying semi-naked on that luxurious quilt, her eyes shut, her lips parted and panting.