Confessions of a Millionaire's Mistress

by Robyn Grady

  When he stood before her again, they looked into each other’s eyes and said together, ‘There’s something I need to—’

  He grinned. ‘Ladies first.’

  She told the nerves to quit jumping rope in her stomach, then tried to put her feelings into words.

  ‘I’ve been thinking…about you wanting to return my parents’ company…about you racing to bring me here today…about how we might be able to work us out.’

  Something flared in his eyes, then faded. ‘I’ll be honest. I don’t want my children brought up by anyone but their parents. It’s important that a child knows and trusts his mother and his father without reserve every day of his life.’

  ‘I agree. As long as it’s a joint effort and everyone’s happy with the arrangements, including the child.’

  He nodded—good. ‘And, let me say, I have no intention of being a “bring my slippers”, “where’s my dinner?” type of husband—not next year, not in fifty. You stimulate me—my mind, my body, even my beliefs. I don’t want to ever hold you back or hide you away.’

  Tears thickened in her throat. He’d touched her more deeply than she’d thought possible. But she had to voice the obvious. ‘I bet our parents thought much the same when they agreed to marry.’

  ‘That was their lives and our past.’ His expression said he was done with it. ‘If we work together—if we both want to make this work—we won’t regret our decision. I’ve never loved anyone before. Do you think I’d do anything to lose you?’

  Soaking up the raw emotion in his words, she smiled and those tears blurred her vision.

  ‘You love me?’

  His chest expanded. ‘Completely and for ever. I want to be there for you in everything, whether we have a family or not. You helped open my eyes to so much, most importantly the fact that I can belong. That we belong together.’

  Her brow pinched. ‘But you do want a family of your own?’

  His expression melted. ‘Very much. But only with you.’

  With curious people milling around, he pulled a jewellery box from his trouser pocket. When the clasp sprang open, the sun hit the rock and threw back a halo of shifting coloured light.

  Oh. My.

  ‘I should’ve thought to present this when I asked you the first time,’ he said as he took her hand. ‘But now I’m asking again.’ His eyes searched hers. ‘Celeste, will you marry me?’

  She took a breath.

  She’d wanted to know what her future held, but the future was constantly unfolding. All she knew for certain was that she loved this man with everything she was and would ever be. He was right. It was up to them both—two halves of the whole—to move forward together and make certain they worked.

  She cupped his strong jaw and committed her heart. ‘I’d love to marry you. I love you, Ben.’ So very much.

  Beaming, he slipped the ring on her finger. He gathered her near, but before they sealed her acceptance with a kiss she needed to say—

  ‘I’d like to have a garden ceremony. Is that okay with you?’

  He smiled. ‘That’s fine.’ He brought her close again.

  ‘And I think we should make a pact not to work on weekends. All work and no play…’

  ‘A couple needs time together.’ He nodded. ‘Done.’

  Hugging her extra tight, he slanted his mouth over hers. Her hand shot up, blocking his lips from capturing hers.

  ‘Ben, there’s one more thing…’

  He caught her hand and smiled a sexy smile that made everything but him, and his obvious love for her, fade away. ‘Honey, now would be a good time to let me kiss you so we can get on with our happily ever after.’

  She smiled. He was right.

  So she did.

  EPILOGUE

  Three years later.

  SITTING at her home-office desk, Celeste clicked open the appropriate spreadsheet and typed the long-time client’s name in the ‘special order’ header.

  She collected the handpiece and set it to her ear again. ‘So, you’d like lilies and freesias on the tables. No, I think that will work beautifully for a birthday celebration. Special bouquets for the mums? I love it. I have their favourites on file—’

  A soft cry caught her ear and Celeste stilled.

  ‘Nicole, sorry, can I call you back?’ She laughed. ‘Yes, it’s the baby. I knew you’d understand. I’ll email a price first thing in the morning.’

  After disconnecting, Celeste rolled back her chair and headed for the adjoining room.

  Star Arrangements was going ahead in leaps and bounds. Awards, international orders, A-list clients, as well as a number of charities she regularly helped with special events and sponsorships. All her goals regarding business had been achieved. But she’d fulfilled another, even more amazing dream.

  She eased back the gliding doors and hurried through the semi darkness to her gorgeous one-year-old daughter. Standing in her cot, holding a rung with one tiny hand, rubbing a sleepy eye with the other, Ava Krystal yawned and grumbled. But when she saw her visitor, her face lit up.

  ‘Mum-mum.’

  Heart so full it sometimes ached, Celeste collected her baby at the same time the second set of adjoining doors slid open.

  Ben strode in, surveyed the shadowed room, then smiled seeing mother with child.

  He joined them and tickled Ava’s chin. ‘Hey, sweetie. You’re supposed to be asleep.’ He kissed his wife on the lips, his mouth lingering before he drew reluctantly away. ‘You finish what you’re doing. I can put her back to sleep.’

  Still tingling from his kiss, Celeste caught the time on the unicorn clock on the dresser. Ten past eight. That late!

  Ava stretched, reaching one hand out towards Daddy while holding onto her mummy’s hair with the other. Celeste kissed her baby’s chubby cheek. ‘It’s fine. I’m well and truly done for the day.’

  She was glad tomorrow was Friday; she would work an hour in the morning, then it was family time right through until Tuesday. With Ben’s chock-a-block investment portfolio, he mostly worked from home as well, organising his hours largely around family needs. Saturday they planned to go to the zoo—a first for little Ava. A first for Ben, too.

  She finger-combed Ava’s blonde curls. Knowing the game, with some indecipherable word, Ava tried to catch her mother’s hand. Laughing, Celeste softly bopped her baby’s nose.

  Wanting to join in, Ben had put out his arms at the same time his cell phone rang. He checked the screen, then thumbed a button and clipped the phone back on his belt.

  ‘You can see to that.’ Celeste cuddled Ava, who cuddled back. ‘I’ll read Munchkin her favourite book.’

  Ben’s broad-shouldered silhouette crossed to the bookshelf. ‘New York can wait. We’ll both read to Ava.’

  Liking the idea, Celeste moved to the comfy twin couch in the corner. Ben joined them and ten minutes after reading about fairies and magic mice, Ava was sleeping again.

  Gazing down at his daughter, Ben looped an arm around Celeste’s shoulder and absently twirled a wave with his finger. ‘I can’t wait till she’s old enough to throw a ball,’ he whispered.

  She let her head rock back and his fingers strummed more of her hair, then settled on her shoulder. So nice.

  ‘I’ll leave that to you,’ she whispered back. ‘I’ve got my hand up for painting lessons.’

  ‘I’m a whiz at stick figures, if that’s any help.’

  She looked over. ‘It’s not.’

  His eyes turned hot and he grinned. ‘You know what else I’m a whiz at?’

  She shrugged, playing dumb. He moved close to nuzzle her ear and delicious longing kicked off through her veins, sweeping like a storm through her body.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. ‘Oh, yes, I remember now.’

  His lips trailed her neck. ‘Let’s put the baby to bed.’

  Carefully they moved together to the cot. Celeste lay Ava down, Ben tucked her in. So strong yet caring beside her, he looped an arm around her waist and dre
w her near.

  ‘I love being a dad.’

  Smiling, Celeste leant into him, forever thankful they’d believed in their love and had become engaged then married. They worked everything out together and it worked very well. Gerard, Rhyll and Ben’s siblings were regular visitors to their home, just as Rodney, Suzanne and dear little Tiegan were. In fact, Tiegan stayed over at least one night a month. She’d asked to stay the whole weekend next time, and everyone, including Ava, had cheered.

  Past the cot, the curtains were drawn apart. Beyond the wall-to-wall window, the night sky twinkled unbelievably bright.

  ‘Any falling stars?’ he asked.

  For some reason Celeste thought of PLM, which she’d sold not long before they’d been married. The proceeds were in a bank account, ready for Ava when she reached twenty-one. Anita would have approved.

  She sighed and burrowed into her husband’s strong arm and chest. ‘I don’t need falling stars. There’s nothing more I could wish for.’

  He turned her into his embrace and, angling her chin, kissed her with all the emotion she also felt burning inside—passion, deepest longing, made stronger by trust and respect.

  When his mouth gradually left hers, he searched her eyes. ‘I love you.’

  She smiled. ‘I love you, too.’

  It was that simple. And tonight, tomorrow—for the rest of their lives—nothing would matter more.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-2760-0

  CONFESSIONS OF A MILLIONAIRE’S MISTRESS

  First North American Publication 2009.

  Copyright © 2008 by Robyn Grady.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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