Confessions of a Millionaire's Mistress

by Robyn Grady

  She stopped at the taxi rank. When she craned up on tiptoe to kiss his raspy cheek, tears swelled to prickle the backs of her eyes.

  She forced herself to smile. ‘Good luck.’

  She moved to open the taxi door, but he caught her hand. His face was set. ‘Don’t go.’

  Her heart cracked straight down the middle. ‘Ben, I have to.’

  A pulse jumped in his jaw as he searched her eyes.

  ‘I’ll call.’

  She shook her head. ‘Please don’t.’

  On the brink of falling in love with a man who couldn’t commit wasn’t where she needed to be. Poor Brooke had been in a similar situation last year. At least Ben had been up-front.

  She slid into the back seat and gave the driver instructions. She wouldn’t look back. Not once. Not a peek. But as the taxi turned the corner she jolted around and peered out the rear window. Ben was standing there, just the way she’d imagined.

  Incredibly sexy and all alone.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BEN ignored everyone else standing in the room and moved up behind Celeste. Fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her slender waist, he leaned around her shoulder, brushing a kiss upon her soft warm cheek. She jumped, her back straightened, then she edged around.

  As her gaze caught his, Ben’s chest stirred at the telltale glow in her eyes…the familiar intoxicating scent of her skin. After a month apart, the magnetic pull was still there—stronger than before—heating his blood from the moment she’d walked into his packed boardroom thirty minutes earlier.

  Despite the electricity arcing between them now, she slid one foot back and away from him. He understood her motivation. She thought it was over.

  She was wrong.

  Celeste swallowed and found her voice. ‘Hello, Ben.’

  He tipped his head. ‘Glad you could make it.’

  As their gazes lingered the current intensified and the sexual pull cranked a notch higher, until Rodney, standing nearby, ended his conversation with a PLM franchisee from the southern district and rotated toward the couple.

  Beaming, the former head of the company extended a hand. ‘Benton, I appreciate today’s invitation, though it wasn’t necessary.’

  Ben forced his attention away from Celeste’s cherry-sweet mouth and shook Rodney’s hand. ‘I called today’s meeting to bring all my franchise holders up to date, but I thought you’d enjoy being part of it and hearing about my initial push to expand.’

  ‘Into Western Australia and New Zealand.’ Rodney clapped Ben’s arm. ‘Well done, son.’

  Ben sensed more than saw Celeste flinch.

  So she still carried a flame for PLM. Last time they’d spoken, she’d had plans aside from her handbag shop—a florist venture. He’d hoped that would help her deal with PLM’s change of hands, although, to be fair, it couldn’t be easy.

  Striking an interested pose, Rodney crossed his arms over his suit jacket. ‘So, what’s next for PLM?’

  ‘It’s early days yet,’ Ben replied. ‘But I have other development strategies I hope to incorporate while having some fun with this first expansion.’

  Another flinch from Celeste.

  Ben slipped a hand into a trouser pocket. They needed to talk. Alone. He had plenty to communicate and none of it involved business.

  Rodney called out a greeting and waved to someone across the broad expanse of the room. ‘Will you excuse me? James Miller looks like he’s about to leave. He was my first franchisee to come on board. Lots of history there.’

  Ben happily stepped aside. ‘Be my guest.’

  As Rodney moved off Ben wasted no time claiming Celeste’s elbow.

  Taken aback, she examined his hold on her arm as he walked her towards a set of double oak doors.

  ‘Did I agree to go somewhere?’

  He opened the door and ushered her inside his adjoining penthouse office. ‘We need some privacy.’

  ‘You didn’t call this meeting to speak with me.’

  Not entirely. ‘I’ve spoken to everyone I need to.’

  Now it was time for them. He’d delayed this reunion long enough.

  He shut the door and turned the lock while she tugged down the hem of her classic black jacket. The matching skirt was a little long. The blouse buttoned too high. In fact, he’d just as soon pry every article of clothing from her body—lingerie included—but they needed to talk before they could move on to rekindling more intimate contact.

  He crossed to his desk. Thumbing on the intercom, he spoke to his secretary. ‘Lin, if anyone asks, I have an urgent matter to attend to.’

  Celeste raised her brows. ‘I’m the urgent matter.’

  Sauntering back, he nodded.

  As she perhaps understood more clearly his intent, her eyes widened. ‘My father…he’ll wonder where I’ve got to.’

  ‘Your father is in his element. He won’t miss you for the moment.’ Halfway to his target, he removed his jacket, tossing it on the leather settee as he passed.

  Her eyes rounded more, but she held her ground. ‘In case you have the wrong idea, I didn’t intend to accept your invitation. I’m here only because Suzanne wasn’t feeling well and asked if I’d keep my father company.’

  He stopped inches away, deliberately looking down as she peered up. She was petite, yet luscious and entirely feminine. The perfect fit for his arms.

  ‘You weren’t the least bit curious to see me again.’

  She looked away. ‘That’s irrelevant.’

  Not in his book.

  Two fingers trailed her cheek, crooking under her chin and lifting it high. His gaze drank in her lips. ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left me standing on that street corner.’

  Had she done it to torment him? To tame him? Either way, today he intended to break the deadlock wide open.

  His voice lowered to a growl. ‘I missed you.’

  She visibly shivered and bit her lip the way she had New Year’s Eve when his tongue had trailed down between her breasts, around her navel and lower until she’d clung to his head and begged him not to stop.

  ‘Ben, please…don’t play games.’

  He smiled. ‘You like our games.’

  On a groan she wound away and towards the door. ‘I need to go.’

  ‘Don’t you want to hear my news?’

  Her hand found the lock and twisted. ‘I’ve heard enough.’

  ‘I found my father.’

  She froze. After a moment, she faced him.

  ‘He’s a retired teacher,’ he explained, ‘married with seven kids. I knocked on his front door, he opened it in a faded football jersey. A boy, about five, was standing behind him.’

  ‘A grandson?’

  ‘They were about to go out and kick a ball. He didn’t know about me. His dentures almost fell out his mouth when I told him who I was.’

  She drifted nearer. ‘Didn’t know about you? I don’t understand.’

  He strolled forward, closing the gap. ‘Apparently he hadn’t known my mother was pregnant. He wasn’t in the country when I was born. They must have tried to track him down but gave up. Guess it didn’t help that he took on his new wife’s surname and became Bartley-Scott.’ Although, knowing the system, he wouldn’t hand out any gold stars that they’d tried too hard.

  The crease between her brows eased. ‘And you like him? He likes you?’

  ‘Pretty much instantly.’ He scratched his temple. ‘Although his wife and their eldest let me know they weren’t sure about a stranger turning up on their doorstep claiming to be a long-lost son and brother.’

  She winced. ‘That must’ve been hard.’

  Years ago, whenever he’d been dumped at a new ‘home’ or had started at yet another school with shoes two sizes too big, he’d only ever imagined a reunion with his ‘family’ involving open arms. He should’ve known reality wouldn’t be all rainbows and sunshine.

  ‘The second eldest is tying the knot this weekend,’ he went on. ‘Christopher is m
arrying Marie, a lovely girl who, five-year-old Zack tells me, can whistle through her nose.’ Celeste laughed. ‘Despite two disapproving glares directed my way across the dining-room table, Gerard, my father, and Chris invited me along. The invitation’s for two.’

  The penny dropped and her jaw unhinged. ‘You want me to go? Isn’t there someone else you’d rather take?’

  His frown was teasing. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t like weddings.’

  ‘You know that’s not it.’

  ‘It’ll be an excuse to buy a new dress.’

  She hesitated, then shook her head.

  His arm snaked around her hip. She stiffened, but didn’t move away. Good, because he wasn’t in a mood to take no for an answer.

  He moved closer. ‘Celeste, I want to dance with you again.’ Be with you again. This tug was maddening. Hadn’t she been in hell too? His mouth dropped lower. ‘Say yes.’

  Despite her stand four weeks ago, this charge zapping between them proved it: they didn’t need to go their separate ways. They were both adults. Why not continue to enjoy each other for as long as it lasted? There was no harm in that—only advantages.

  Her face pinched. ‘Ben, I can’t.’

  He searched her eyes. Time to reveal his ace. ‘I’ve told my family about you. They want to meet you.’

  Celeste held her breath. Had she heard correctly? ‘You told them about me?’

  His sexy heavy-lidded gaze roamed her face, raking the coals already burning deep and low inside. ‘I sure did.’

  Her throat bobbed on an involuntary swallow. ‘You want me to meet your family?’

  He cocked a speculative brow. ‘Is that a yes?’

  Celeste pressed her lips together.

  Had a night passed when she hadn’t dreamed about this man? Or woken remembering how alive she’d felt whenever she’d been with him? In his car, in his boat, in his bed. But she’d stayed strong, refusing to call him, blocking from her mind the reckless hope that he might call her. Then last week, she—along with her father and Suzanne—had received an invite to today’s meeting. She’d been determined not to come. She needed to forget about PLM—about Ben—and get on with her life.

  But how could she when she’d been a week late and had begun to worry? Yesterday made two weeks.

  This morning, she’d bought a home pregnancy kit.

  ‘Celeste?’

  At his questioning gaze, a spear of anxiety sailed through her centre. She’d chickened out performing the test. But if she were pregnant she couldn’t ignore it—or keep it a secret—not that she’d want to. She’d have to tell him. Given Ben’s concrete view on bringing children into the world—that both parties should be irrevocably committed—he wouldn’t be pleased.

  She chewed her lip.

  But he had asked her to this wedding—and not just any wedding, but his newly found brother’s. Despite her ambivalence about seeing him again, she wanted that experience to be memorable for him. Feeling connected was what Ben needed most, even if he wasn’t fully aware of it yet. If he’d made this contact with his father, if he wanted her to be part of a family celebration, wasn’t that a good sign? Wasn’t there a chance…a chance they could talk, if nothing else?

  Finally she let go a breath and nodded. ‘What time should I expect you?’

  A slow smile lit his eyes. ‘Wedding’s on Saturday at three. I’ll collect you at two.’

  It was done.

  ‘I’ll be ready.’ She moved to leave. ‘Now I really should be going—’

  ‘There’s one more thing.’

  A strong arm coiled around her waist and tugged her back. Caught unawares with her defences down, she accepted his kiss like long-parched earth welcomed life-giving rain. She soaked up the texture and taste of him and with every passing moment only wanted more.

  When their lips parted, she felt giddy. Worse, she knew her heart would be there in her eyes.

  Damn the man.

  Although her voice was thick, she managed to sound vaguely disapproving. ‘I didn’t say you could kiss me.’

  ‘You must know by now—’ he flicked the button at her waist and eased the jacket off her shoulders ‘—I don’t ask.’

  Her heart jumped to her throat. What was he doing? ‘Ben, you have a room full of people out there.’

  His smouldering gaze hesitated, then lifted from the curve of her throat to her eyes. With a guttural sound, he replaced his hungry look with a frown and straightened. He slipped the jacket back up onto her shoulders and, jaw tight, led her to the door. ‘Go join your father. I’ll grab my jacket and be out in a minute.’

  She smothered the sting of disappointment. It was goodbye again—for now.

  ‘Then I’ll see you later in the week.’ When his frown deepened, she explained. ‘I have to leave now to inspect my new shop fittings.’

  His brows lifted. ‘Sounds like fun.’

  Well, she thought so. ‘I need to give the okay on the cabinets and electrical—’ She stopped. He’d gone to collect and shuck back into his jacket.

  ‘Is it nearby, or will we drive?’ he asked.

  She coughed out a laugh. ‘You can’t come. You have work to do.’ People to entertain.

  Joining her, he lifted his chin and straightened the knot in his tie. ‘I’m the boss. I get to punch my own clock.’ He opened the door and waved her through.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say he wasn’t invited. Yet how could she? He’d just invited her to accompany him on what promised to be a huge day in his life when hopefully Ben would be publicly accepted into his family—as long as that suspicious stepmother and her eldest behaved. If Ben had been pushy today…well, she could forgive him.

  Truth to tell, she craved his company…as long as companionship didn’t transgress into more heated waters. For a whole pile of reasons, sleeping together was on big time indefinite delay.

  Back in the oversized boardroom, Ben tapped a glass with a spoon and addressed his audience. ‘I have to leave for another appointment, but please stay and enjoy the refreshments. Thank you all for coming and sharing in the good news.’

  After a burst of applause and raised glasses, the men went back to their conversations.

  Ben returned to her side. ‘If you want to say goodbye to your father I’ll meet you in the lobby. Might save questions.’

  She smiled. He’d read her mind.

  Minutes later they met and walked to her shop, which was only a block and a half through Sydney’s CBD bustle.

  ‘This new shop,’ he said over the growling engine of a passing bus, ‘it’s for your flower business?’

  Her brows knitted. ‘A florist. And not just any florist. I have plans of becoming the place on the east coast for gift baskets and all floral requirements if your name happens to be Kidman or Murdoch.’

  He nodded. ‘Big plans.’

  Was that a patronising quality to his tone? Sure, it was a big dream, but the only way to achieve big was to dream big. He of all people must understand that.

  At the address, she unlocked the glass door, which led into a smallish space that was three parts fitted out in the same colours as her handbag store—pastel pink and vibrant blue with splashes of silver.

  ‘Smaller orders will be done through here,’ she told him with a gesture that encompassed the room. ‘When we expand, I want to build or hire space at a more industrial-located estate.’

  ‘To save costs on rental.’

  She wove around the partition to check out the shelves and central working table out the back. ‘The money and glamour needs to be where it can do its best work—in the arrangements. Working out an advertising schedule is next. Word of mouth in any industry is important too, so whatever comes out of here must be superior, unique and eye-catching without being gaudy…’ She gave a crooked smile. ‘Unless that’s what the customer wants.’

  She felt his eyes on her as she wandered around, checking electrical fittings, running a hand over the surfaces, ever vigilant of scratches or
marks. When she’d given everything a mental tick, he smiled over at her. ‘All set?’

  ‘I’m happy.’

  He took her hands and hot tingles sizzled up both arms. ‘Good. Now we both have business out of the way, how about we go somewhere for a drink?’

  She arched a wry brow. ‘Like your place?’

  He grinned. ‘It is handy.’

  Handy or fatal?

  She wound her hands away from his. ‘I think it’s safer to see each other on Saturday.’

  That would give her time to do the pregnancy test. See a doctor if she needed it confirmed. Figure out how to tell Ben he was going to be a father as well as how to duck the shrapnel after that.

  He stepped into the space dividing them. ‘Safe?’ He frowned playfully. ‘Come on. What happened to reckless?’

  As he tipped forward she tipped back. ‘Reckless has been packed up and sent on summer vacation.’

  Reckless was what had got her into this mess. From the start she’d known he was dangerous. Dangerous for her heart.

  ‘Pity. On Sunday I’d hoped we could take the boat out again.’

  She recalled that day when he’d lavished her with his own spectacular style of attention and her stomach pitched. ‘Let’s get Saturday out of the way first.’

  He narrowed one eye. ‘Odd, but I don’t get the sense you really want me to leave.’

  She was burning up with longing, but, ‘I can spell it for you?’

  ‘And if I kiss you again?’

  She backed up. He followed and her tail hit the counter. She swung an anxious look around his frame. ‘You’re aware there are streams of people filing by.’

  ‘Suppose there weren’t?’

  She tried to steady her breathing. ‘I’d still ask you to leave.’

  He loomed nearer and her nipples tightened. His eyes crinkled above a smile. ‘You would, huh?’

  She tried to look unimpressed while covering the evidence by crossing her arms. ‘What? So you’re irresistible now?’

  He lifted a brow. ‘You tell me.’

  Her arms unravelled as he came close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his jacket…through the fabric of his trousers. Digging into her last reserves of determination, she composed her expression and shrugged.