The Rich Man's Blackmailed Mistress

by Robyn Donald

  Sable had to take in a jagged breath before she could say in a remote little voice, ‘Yes, I understand.’

  His smile was twisted by rueful self-derision. ‘I deliberately chose lovers who were serene and composed, who made no demands on me. And then you exploded into my life, and I wanted you as much as I despised you, so I used your supposed past sins as a defence against admitting the truth.’

  ‘The—truth?’ she croaked, heart pounding so heavily in her ears that she had to watch his beloved mouth to make out the words.

  And even then she didn’t—couldn’t—believe them.

  ‘I love you,’ he said without inflexion. His eyes narrowed. ‘No sensible person believes in love at first sight, but that’s what happened.’ He waited and when she still stared at him without answering, he drawled, ‘This is where you tell me that you wouldn’t have me if I was the last man in the world.’

  Unsteadily she blurted, ‘Can we just take it as read?’ And burst into tears.

  His arms closed around her, warm, strong, infinitely protective, and she choked out against his chest, ‘I don’t know—I’m so happy, but now I c-c—I can’t—’

  ‘Hush,’ he said, his voice deep and oddly shaken. ‘Just tell me whether or not you love me.’

  ‘Of course I do!’

  He let out a long breath. Astounded, she looked up and met his eyes, saw there a flash of vulnerability that wrenched her heart. ‘I hoped you did,’ he said, fishing out a handkerchief. ‘Here, you’re soaking me.’ And when she just cried harder he said gently, ‘Sable, I love you with everything I have, everything I am, but I’m not ever going to be able to tell you again if this is your reaction. Hearing you cry shreds my heart.’

  ‘I c-can’t s-stop,’ she wailed, grabbing the handkerchief and trying to mop up. ‘I never c-cry. I d-don’t know how to prove that, but I do love you so m-much.’

  ‘I don’t need proof,’ he said and removed the cloth from her hands, tenderly wiping the tears away. ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you—I believe unreservedly and without any limits that you had absolutely nothing to do with that old blackmail case—that it simply isn’t in you to think like that.’

  He picked her up and carried her across to the sofa, lowering himself into it so he could arrange her comfortably in his arms.

  For long moments they sat locked together, and Sable let herself believe, cautiously at first, but the solid thudding of his heart, his closeness and tenderness finally calmed her enough for her to be able to ask huskily, ‘So why did you bring Brent back?’

  He didn’t immediately answer, and once again she lifted her eyes and caught that fleeting, startling flash of nakedness, a glimpse into a man whose natural dominance could be threatened by love.

  His mouth twisted. ‘I was—jealous, I suppose.’ The muscles in his broad shoulders flexed as he went on, ‘Yes, jealous. It’s a novel emotion for me, not one I recognised straight away, and when I did I resented it, but I needed to see you together, to know that you felt nothing more for him than the friendship you claimed.’

  ‘And now?’

  He tilted her chin and looked at her, his gaze intent and searching, his voice very deep and sure. ‘I’m convinced. I suppose I just needed the i’s dotted where my cousin was concerned.’

  ‘So why the fuss about me leaving just now?’

  His eyes darkened. ‘I couldn’t bear to lose you—I just reacted instead of thinking.’

  She said quietly, ‘It was tearing me apart.’ But she needed to know more, to understand how a man who seemed to believe the worst of her could reluctantly learn to trust her and his own deepest instincts. ‘Kain, what made you believe me? You were so convinced I was the worst sort of cheat—what made you change your mind?’

  He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them, hard as diamonds, the piercing gaze shot with a glimmer of wry humour. ‘Actually, I started to believe you couldn’t have done it when we first made love.’

  Eyes widening to their fullest extent she took this in, then sat bolt upright. ‘You could tell I wasn’t a blackmailer because I was good in bed?’ she demanded, unable to work out whether she was delighted or furious.

  He laughed and kissed her into silence. ‘You were utterly, wholly generous, you gave me everything without reservation. And when you climaxed in my arms you were totally shocked. I realised you’d never had an orgasm before, and that you were completely inexperienced.’

  Her eyes darkened. ‘It was wonderful,’ she said in a low, intense voice. ‘But surely that has nothing to do with my moral sense.’

  ‘Blackmail is a particularly abhorrent crime, and I couldn’t reconcile someone who’d perpetrated that with the woman who’d unravelled so completely in my arms. When we made love there was no pretence, no fake shyness—you were utterly mine. Without holding anything back you gave me yourself openly and wholeheartedly.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said dreamily, because she could say it now.

  In an ironic voice he said, ‘Not that I admitted it to myself. It took me quite a while to accept that this feeling of intense rightness—I can’t describe it any other way—was honest and valid. I even enjoyed quarrelling with you, and for the first time I had some inkling of why my parents stayed together.’

  ‘I’m not normally quarrelsome,’ she said, adding with a sigh, ‘Only when you’re being particularly obnoxious. And I was hurt—I wanted so much for you to believe me, to know that I simply didn’t have it in me to blackmail anyone. It really hurt when everyone believed I’d done it, especially to Miss Popham because she’d been so good to me—she wasn’t soft or openly affectionate, but she always had time for me. I suppose you could say she gave me all the mothering I ever had.’

  ‘Then in that case I suggest we go down and see her before we get married.’ He kissed her startled mouth with tenderness, then lifted his head and surveyed her. ‘I wish I could replace those unhappy memories. But for what it’s worth, it wasn’t just the sex—in fact, I hadn’t known you for long before I realised that the so-called evidence could be read two ways. Oh, I fought it—until a few days ago I fought it—I even tried to exorcise how I felt by asking you to be my mistress. But in my heart I knew I was a goner—that I’d never be free of you again.’

  He adjusted his grip so that her head fell back onto his shoulder and he could look into her face. It was too soon to be able to enjoy her feelings; she felt oddly fragile, but it was wonderful to be able to return his tender survey with her heart in her eyes.

  A boundless upwelling of love and gratitude calmed her. Kain seemed to understand; he didn’t attempt to do anything more than hold her as though she was the most precious burden in the world. Later, she knew dreamily, they would make love and it would be flash and fire and drama, but in these moments of silent communion she sensed they were forging something wonderful and lasting.

  He said, ‘When that woman from your home town told me—as a friend, of course—that you were a thoroughly bad lot, I knew then that I didn’t believe a word of it.’

  ‘I saw her telling you.’ Sable looked back with pity on herself that night.

  ‘She really enjoyed that,’ he said with a cold, icy inflection that made her shiver, ‘until I warned her if she wanted to face a lawsuit for defamation of character she was going the right way about it.’

  ‘So that’s why—’ Sable stopped.

  ‘What?’ he asked dangerously. And when she didn’t answer he tilted her face so that he could read her expression. ‘Tell me.’

  Sable shrugged. ‘She just muttered that we deserved each other.’

  The danger faded from his face. ‘I certainly don’t deserve you,’ he said and kissed her again, breaking it off to carefully deposit her further away on the sofa, saying in a thickened voice that sent erotic little shivers down her spine, ‘I love you so much.’

  ‘So why am I sitting alone?’

  His smile faded. ‘Because I want you right now, and I know you’re tired and you need foo
d.’ He added with a chilling certainty, ‘The moment I heard Frensham’s voice I knew I wouldn’t trust him with anything, much less the truth. He’ll never bother you again, and he certainly won’t go spreading any more lies.’

  As though he couldn’t help himself he touched her mouth, her eyes, the glossy silk of her hair. ‘All the time we’ve been together every word, every action, has shown me how honest you are. I don’t care what Miss Popham has to say—you’re the proof of your own innocence.’

  He paused, then added grimly, ‘If you like, you can point out that blackmailing you puts me in the same class as Frensham.’

  ‘Don’t be an idiot,’ she told him lovingly, closing his lips with her hand.

  He looked down at her, his mouth tender. ‘You’re letting me off far too easily. While I’ve been keeping my head firmly buried in the sand, you’ve had a rotten time.’

  She shook her head, giving him a shy smile. ‘No, not all the time.’

  ‘The only extenuation I can plead is that I wasn’t enjoying myself either—and when I realised that I was actually falling in love with you it made me savage and stupid.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said swiftly. She smiled at him, luxuriating in the delight of being able to show her love openly. ‘But we’ll never get in such a tangle again, will we.’

  ‘No. And I don’t deserve to be so freely forgiven, either, but I have to admit I’m glad.’ He kissed her then, properly, and when she was weak and clinging to him, he murmured, ‘When are you going to marry me?’

  Shaken, giddily reckless with love and hope, she felt forced to point out, ‘We’ve only known each other for a few weeks. Are you absolutely sure?’

  He held her gaze. ‘Absolutely,’ he said, so intensely the words held all the force of a vow. ‘Only you. For the rest of my life.’

  In the eyes she’d once thought so cold, so emotionless, Sable read her future—a love that would never die. Her heart swelled with a passionate, unwavering adoration. She fought back another spurt of tears and whispered, ‘Only you for ever and ever.’

  His head came down to hers, and this kiss blotted out the past with the promise of a shining, rapturous life together.

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

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  First published in Great Britain 2009

  Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited,

  Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

  © Robyn Donald 2009

  ISBN: 978 1 408 90960 7