Mendez’s Mistress

by Anne Mather

  Daisy frowned, but when she spoke it wasn’t to state her choice of food. ‘He’s not like Lauren,’ she said, and Rachel didn’t know whether to be relieved or sorry. ‘I mean, he’s got plenty of money, hasn’t he? But he doesn’t go on about it like she does. She is such a pain. Did I tell you what she said about me being fat? She said I’d have to watch what I eat for the rest of my life.’

  Rachel managed a smile. ‘Obviously Lauren hasn’t heard of puppy fat. In a couple of years, you’ll be as slim as she is. And you have to admit, Lauren is a beautiful woman,’ she added drily, doubting Lauren would have been as generous about her.

  ‘She’s not as pretty as you,’ retorted Daisy staunchly. ‘And I don’t want to be as skinny as her. I suppose Mr Mendez likes skinny women, doesn’t he?’ Her eyes widened suddenly. ‘Do you think he’s the reason she walked out on Dad?’

  It was a possibility that hadn’t occurred to Rachel until Daisy voiced it. But she thought about it a lot in the days and nights to come. According to Daisy, her father had told his parents that Lauren had left the Johansens’ mansion just a few days after Joe had left for New York. He hadn’t mentioned Joe, of course. But like Daisy, Rachel could see the connection.

  During the following week, Rachel avoided all Evelyn’s attempts to bring her son and her ex-daughter-in-law together. Naturally, she expected Daisy to spend time with her father, and Rachel had no problem with that. But she herself had no desire to listen to any more of Steve’s self-pity. His parents had sympathy for him. He was their only child, after all. But she didn’t have to share their feelings—not when his selfishness had had such a dramatic effect on all their lives.

  Then, the following Friday, she arrived home from the supermarket to find a disturbingly familiar vehicle parked at her gate. It was the four-by-four Joe had been driving when he’d come to her house before. A sleek black SUV with tinted windows and alloy wheels.

  Rachel’s heart skipped a beat. Then skipped another as she parked her car and the driver’s door of the SUV was pushed open. It was Joe. She knew that even before he thrust a long, powerful leg out of the car. She felt it in her bones, she thought, trying to control her breathing. It was like a visceral recognition that sapped her strength and left her feeling weak and vulnerable.

  She watched from the safety of her car as he got out and gave an involuntary stretch, as if he’d been sitting there for quite some time. The action separated the hem of his black tee shirt from low-slung jeans, exposing a muscled wedge of brown skin. And just the sight of him made her realise how much she’d longed to see him again.

  Then he turned and looked at her, and she knew she couldn’t sit there any longer. Thrusting open her door, she followed his example, making an event of locking the car before starting along the pavement towards him.

  ‘This is a surprise,’ she said, striving for normality. Then, as a thought occurred to her, ‘Are you looking for Steve?’

  Joe’s brows descended. ‘Is he here?’ he demanded in a harsh voice, and a shiver slid down Rachel’s spine.

  ‘No,’ she said quickly, wondering if he’d already tried Steve’s parents. ‘Have you been to the Carlyles’? He’s staying with them.’

  Joe’s mouth tightened. ‘As if I care,’ he said, nodding towards the house. ‘Shall we go inside?’

  Rachel swallowed. ‘You’re not looking for Steve?’

  ‘No, I’m not looking for Steve,’ he agreed grimly. ‘Now, in your own time…’

  Rachel hesitated, tempted to point out the flaws in his attitude. But then, deciding there was no advantage in provoking a sharper reprimand, she opened the gate and went up the path to the door.

  The house was cool. She’d lowered the thermostat before leaving for the supermarket, and she wondered if he felt the chill. As he was only wearing a tee shirt, and he’d recently come from a much warmer climate, surely he had to notice the difference in temperature?

  But that wasn’t her concern, she reminded herself, and leading the way into the sitting room, she said brightly, ‘Have you been waiting long?’

  ‘Long enough.’

  Joe was curt. He paused in the doorway, making no attempt to take up her offer to sit down, and she decided he was still nursing a grievance over what had happened the last time they’d been together.

  ‘Um—Steve said your father was ill,’ she ventured when the silence between them lengthened to uncomfortable proportions. ‘How—how is he now?’

  ‘Much better.’ Another monotone response.

  ‘That’s good.’ Rachel wrapped her arms about her midriff, realising she was feeling the cold even if he wasn’t. ‘Was it something serious?’

  ‘A stroke.’ Joe regarded her with dark, brooding eyes. ‘Didn’t Steve tell you that?’

  ‘No.’ Rachel moistened her lips. ‘Actually, I’ve hardly seen Steve since he got back. Daisy has, of course, but he and I—Well, we don’t have a lot to talk about.’

  ‘Don’t you?’ Joe arched those dark brows now, and there was a trace of cold mockery in his gaze. ‘As I understand it, Steve still has feelings for you.’

  ‘What?’ Rachel was astounded. Then a thought occurred to her. ‘Did Lauren tell you that?’

  Joe didn’t immediately reply, and her nerves stretched alarmingly. Of course, she thought. Whatever he said, he was here to ascertain the situation so far as Lauren was concerned. And if that meant getting the facts from her instead of Steve, then so much the better.

  ‘As a matter of fact, Lauren’s father told me what happened,’ Joe said at last. ‘According to him, Lauren found out you and Steve had been spending a lot of time together while Daisy was in the clinic.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous!’ Rachel gasped. ‘He and Lauren were away for most of the time we were there.’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Joe realised that, in his fury at discovering what he’d thought was her duplicity, he’d forgotten all about that. ‘So it’s not true?’

  ‘Of course it’s not true.’ Rachel was staggered that he should think it was. ‘In any case, why does it matter to you?’ She paused, and then said what she was thinking. ‘Unless you want Lauren for yourself.’

  ‘Give me a break!’ Joe stared at her disbelievingly and then shook his head. ‘I’m not interested in Lauren! I don’t even like the woman.’

  Rachel felt totally confused. ‘Then why are you here?’

  ‘For pity’s sake!’ Joe stifled an oath. ‘Why do you think I’m here? I came to see you, Rachel. No one else. For some reason…’He lifted a hand and squeezed the back of his neck. ‘For some reason, I can’t get you out of my head.’

  Rachel felt a quiver begin in the pit of her stomach and spread down into her legs. A trembly, achy feeling enveloped her and she badly wanted to sit down. This couldn’t be happening, she thought. Or, if it was, it was for all the wrong reasons.

  That night in Miami, she’d known he wanted her. Damn it, she’d wanted him, and for the first time in her life she’d acted without considering the consequences. And because it had been so good, she had to believe he wanted her now. But she had no intention of being another of his conquests—someone he could seduce and discard as soon as the next attractive prospect came along.

  Yet, looking at him, it was incredibly hard to think sensibly. What woman wouldn’t be flattered that a man like him would fly all the way over the Atlantic to see her again? Okay, she knew he had homes in London and New York, and he probably hadn’t made the trip just to see her. But he was here—tall, dark and incredibly sexy—and her limbs turned to water at the memory of what making love with him had been like.

  He was staring at her, his eyes dark and intent, and she knew she had to say something. Something that would prove to him she’d meant what she’d said in Miami. Something that would stop him from touching her and discovering what a terrible liar she was.

  ‘Um—well, I’m very flattered,’ she said at last, grateful that he’d moved out of the doorway while he was speaking and was no longer blocki
ng her only means of escape. ‘But—you know—I told you before, this isn’t going to work.’

  ‘Why not?’

  He took a step nearer and Rachel moved behind the sofa, anxiously calculating the distance to the door. ‘You know why not,’ she said, keeping her tone matter-of-fact. ‘I thought I explained the situation that night in Miami.’

  ‘The night you rejected my proposal of marriage?’ suggested Joe harshly, and Rachel edged a little nearer to the door.

  ‘It wasn’t a real proposal of marriage,’ she protested. ‘You know that as well as I do. You wanted your own way and you weren’t getting it. I think you said the first thing that came into your head.’

  ‘No!’ Joe was very definite about that. ‘Believe me, offering marriage is not the first thing that comes into my head when I’m with a woman.’

  ‘I believe you.’ Ridiculously, Rachel felt a little offended now. Abandoning any attempt to be subtle, she quickly walked towards the door. ‘That was why I didn’t take you seriously,’ she added stiffly. She glanced back over her shoulder. ‘I think you ought to go.’

  She’d only taken a couple of steps across the tiles when he came after her. Catching the sleeve of the knitted woollen jacket she’d worn to go out in, he practically dragged it off her shoulders in his haste. Then he swung her round and pushed her back against the wall of the hall behind her.

  He wasn’t gentle. There was a roughness to his actions that was reflected in the dark eyes that raked her startled face. ‘This isn’t over,’ he said harshly, cupping her chin in a surprisingly callused hand. Then he bent his head towards her and his mouth came hungrily down on hers.

  As always, when he touched her, Rachel’s limbs turned to water. It was so much easier to think sensibly when her mouth wasn’t locked with his. She closed her eyes, lost in a web of sensation that was so pleasurable, so erotic, that her head swam with it. The tactile delight of his tongue in her mouth caused an actual pulse to beat between her legs.

  ‘You drive me crazy,’ he muttered at last, drawing back to look down at her with smouldering eyes. His thumb scraped possessively over her lower lip. ‘And God knows you don’t give me any encouragement.’

  Rachel swallowed, the room steadying as the realisation of what she was doing brought a return of sanity. ‘I won’t be your mistress, Joe,’ she said shakily. ‘And if that’s why you’re here, you’re wasting your time.’

  ‘Am I?’ He trailed one hand down her throat to the demure neckline of her cotton shirt, and she couldn’t prevent a shiver of anticipation. Her skin pebbled and his mouth twisted in satisfaction. ‘So, you don’t like me to do this?’ he suggested, dipping his hand inside her shirt and allowing two fingers to probe inside her bra. Her nipple hardened automatically, and a smile replaced the smug expression on his face. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes,’ she choked, knowing there was no point in denying it. ‘Yes, I don’t deny you can make me want you. But—but that’s not the point.’

  ‘What is the point, then?’ demanded Joe, his tone hardening perceptibly. ‘I’ve proved that we want each other. Isn’t that enough?’

  ‘No.’ She tried to push him away from her, but he wouldn’t let her. ‘Joe, be sensible! I’m older than you.’

  ‘Only a little.’

  ‘I’ve got a child.’

  ‘So what?’

  She shook her head. ‘You’re not being reasonable. I—I can’t be as irresponsible as you.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to be irresponsible,’ said Joe huskily. His hand found the button at the waist of her jeans and he opened her zip. Then, resisting her attempts to stop him, he slipped his hand between her legs. ‘As I say,’ he added a little unsteadily, ‘I’ve proved that you want me. You can’t deny it when I can feel how much.’

  Rachel trembled. ‘Please, Joe…’

  Joe gazed down at her for a long, disturbing moment, and then he removed his hand and put both arms around her. He pulled her to him, her jeans slipping dangerously low on her hips as he did so. ‘Okay,’ he said, giving in to the urge to kiss the vulnerable curve of her neck. ‘If you insist on waiting until our wedding night, then so be it.’ He lifted his head, his lips tilting teasingly. ‘I won’t force you, even if we both know who would win.’

  Rachel could only stare at him. ‘You don’t mean that,’ she protested.

  ‘That I won’t force you? Of course, I—’

  ‘No! No, not that.’ Rachel was impatient now, her small hands gripping his upper arms, keeping him away from her as if her life depended on it. ‘Joe, don’t joke about this. It’s really not very funny.’

  ‘Who’s joking?’ His dark brows arched in what she was sure must be mocking indignation. ‘Okay.’ He took a step backward and went down on one knee. ‘If I have to beg, I’ll do it. Rachel, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  RACHEL felt tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. ‘I—I wish you wouldn’t do this,’ she said, clutching her jeans around her waist. She took a deep breath, admitting defeat. ‘All right. You’ve won. I’ll go to bed with you. Now, please, get up. You look silly, kneeling there.’

  ‘Well, thanks for that,’ said Joe flatly as he rose to his feet. ‘Do I take it you’re turning my proposal down again?’

  ‘Don’t make fun of me, Joe,’ said Rachel tremulously. ‘I’ve said I’ll go to bed with you and I will.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Though not when Daisy’s due home from school. I wouldn’t like her to come home and find us together.’

  Joe rocked back on his heels. ‘Ah, well, there, you see, I can’t agree to that.’

  ‘Agree to what?’

  ‘To us not being able to spend time in bed together when Daisy’s around.’

  ‘Joe—’

  ‘No, listen to me.’ He grasped her upper arms, all humour vanishing from his dark, arresting features. ‘I love you, Rachel. Do you hear me? And I really do want to marry you. I want you, me, and Daisy to be a family. Well, for the time being,’ he added as she gazed up at him with disbelieving eyes. ‘If you’re not too old,’ his eyes twinkled, ‘we might make another baby or two. If that’s what you want, of course.’

  Rachel took a shaky breath. ‘You—love me?’

  ‘Yes, I love you.’ Joe took his hands from her arms and rested his palms against the wall at either side of her head. ‘God knows why,’ he added whimsically. ‘You’re not exactly good for my ego.’

  ‘You don’t need me to pay you compliments,’ said Rachel, her mouth a little dry now.

  Joe sucked in a gulp of air. ‘Not exactly the response I wanted,’ he told her tensely. ‘Does that mean what I think it means?’

  Rachel swallowed. ‘And that would be?’

  ‘Oh, you know.’ Joe rolled his eyes. ‘I’m good to go to bed with, but when it comes to choosing a life partner…’

  ‘Don’t!’ Her anguished cry cut him off. With trembling fingers she cradled his face and then pressed her fluttering lips to his mouth. ‘I love you. Why do you think I refused your first proposal? Because I couldn’t bear for you to make fun of something so—so serious.’

  ‘Ah, God!’ Joe lowered himself against her, his mouth crushing hers with all the pent-up emotions he’d been denying for so long. ‘I wasn’t making fun,’ he told her at last when he lifted his head. ‘Okay, maybe I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself, but I think I’ve loved you since that morning I came here to talk about Daisy’s trip. But you’re right about one thing: that night in Miami, I would have said anything to persuade you to stay.’

  ‘Then—’

  ‘Let me finish.’ Joe allowed his knuckles to brush her anxious lips. ‘When you refused to take me seriously, I was seriously ticked off. I thought, what the hell, I don’t need this. That was why I let you go.’

  Rachel frowned. ‘So what made you change your mind? If you have really changed your mind,’ she added doubtfully, and Joe groaned.

  ‘Oh, baby, I changed my mind about an
hour after you’d left me.’ He shook his head. ‘I had every intention of seeing you again. Then I got that call from my mother, telling me my father was very ill, and I realised I was going to have to go away without resolving the situation between us.’

  Rachel could hardly believe this was happening. ‘So, have you been back to Florida since we came home?’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Joe was rueful. ‘And believe me, I was pretty annoyed when I found you’d left the clinic without letting me know. Then, when I had Lauren’s father ringing me, telling me that she was heartbroken because you and Steve had shut her out while Daisy was in the clinic, I felt even more aggrieved, I can tell you.’

  ‘But that’s not true!’

  ‘I know, I know.’ Joe’s tongue touched the pulse palpitating below her ear. ‘But you have to give me some credit for being bloody jealous.’ He grimaced. ‘You have to understand, I’d spoken to Daisy’s doctor before I left and ensured you’d have somewhere to stay until I got back—’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ she interrupted him a little breathlessly. ‘Steve’s parents had apparently said how grateful they were to Dr Gonzales for organising it, and he told them it was you who’d arranged it.’ She shook her head. ‘It was so kind of you.’

  ‘It wasn’t kind,’ he interrupted now. ‘Sweetheart, I needed to know you were somewhere safe, somewhere I didn’t have to worry that one night some drunken jerk might try and force his way into your hotel room. The Park Plaza’s okay, but it doesn’t have the most salubrious reputation, and I wanted to ensure you’d be waiting for me when I got back.’

  ‘Oh, Joe.’

  ‘Yeah, “oh, Joe”,’ he echoed drily. ‘And then, when I heard Steve was back in England, naturally I thought the worst. I’m a man, what can I say? A man who doesn’t care for the idea that his woman is seeing another guy.’

  Rachel caught her breath. ‘Am I your woman, Joe?’

  ‘You are if you accept my proposal,’ he said huskily. ‘Which reminds me, I don’t believe you’ve given me an answer yet.’