Who Wants To Be The Millionaire's Mistress?

by Peggy Hunter

  She opened the door and allowed the stoic man, dressed in a black and white uniform, to wheel the cart inside the room.

  Suddenly flashbulbs exploded in her face. Lacey reeled and covered her eyes in an effort to shield her face.

  Oh my God!

  The room quickly filled with paparazzi. “Ms. Masters, was sex with Maxwell Barton everything you thought it would be?"

  Lacey blinked. The man who'd wheeled the cart into the suite had quickly disappeared, leaving her to face the reporters on her own.

  "Lacey,” another reporter asked as cameras continued to flash in her face, “on a scale from one to ten, how would you rate Maxwell Barton as a lover?"

  Lacey laughed inwardly. Why was the press so certain she'd slept with her millionaire so damn fast? Was it a sign of the times? If it was, she'd been left behind.

  "Is he here?” someone yelled over the clamor.

  Lacey shook her head. “No, Maxwell's not here. In fact, he was the perfect gentleman last night."

  The room went completely silent. All cameras were holstered and Lacey could swear she could hear their disappointment hit the luxuriously carpeted floor with a thud. This was not the scoop they were hoping for.

  Someone asked the question no one else wanted to. “Were you disappointed?"

  "Not at all,” Lacey replied easily.

  "It's a well known fact you had a torrid affair with the CEO of Billings Enterprises. How does Barton rate as a lover compared to Billings?"

  Lacey felt the wind whoosh from her lungs. Her mind scrambled for something, anything to say. “My relationship with Mr. Barton is completely different,” she said.

  "So you admit you did have an affair with Zachary Billings."

  Lacey winced. What had she walked into? “Yes."

  "So, Maxwell Barton wasn't as good for you as Billings was?"

  "No!” Lacey cried. “That's not how it was at all. In fact, Max made the choice to leave,” she said quickly.

  "Why?” The question came from several reporters at the same time.

  "Because I asked him to."

  A reporter in the back, one she couldn't see, asked, “Is Maxwell Barton gay?"

  Lacey bristled. “Of course he's not gay. Just because he couldn't make love to me—"

  "He couldn't make love? Is he impotent?"

  Oh shit! “I didn't mean he couldn't, I meant he respected my wishes."

  No one in the room cared and Lacey sighed heavily. The paparazzi were there for only one thing. They wanted dirt on Maxwell Barton and no matter what she said now, they would certainly twist it.

  Having gotten what they'd come for, the reporters quickly filed out of the penthouse suite. When the door slammed shut, Lacey blinked in disbelief.

  Not good, this is not good at all!

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 4

  Lacey Masters Spends Night Millionaire-less. Barton Gay?

  Max didn't read beyond the headline before he balled the morning paper in his hands and flung it across his office.

  He knew the press well, knew they liked to put a spin on anything related to him. No doubt, Lacey had been caught off-guard and misquoted. Whatever it took to sell papers.

  What Max hadn't counted on was just how much clout the stupid game show carried. He'd agreed to appear on the show because the press had raked him over the coals after his broken relationship with a well-known socialite.

  Never mind the mistake he'd made breaking up with her, he made the fatal error when he pursued the mysterious Roxanna Brule. The daughter of a shipping magnet from Montreal, she had a very good reason for being mysterious. The woman was a fucking freak! Her father threw several investment deals his way while Max courted Roxanna. But nothing, not even billion-dollar deals, could persuade Max to stick with the woman.

  The press quickly took the relationship to higher grounds, soon announcing they were engaged. Bad press followed when Max made his intentions clear ... he had no plans to marry anyone, and certainly not Roxanna.

  The press quickly labeled him as a cold, heartless man. It wouldn't have bothered him one bit if his business hadn't suffered as a result. When a friend, who was producing a new reality game show, suggested he'd save face by being on the show, Max agreed. He hoped by appearing on Who Wants to Be the Millionaire's Mistress?, he'd show the public his softer side and regain public favor.

  And he would have too. If it hadn't been for Lacey's ornery actions, he'd have remained in complete control. It wasn't his fault Lacey drew on his darker side, made him want her more every time he saw her.

  And now the press was having way too much fun with the fact he'd left his hard-won mistress to her own devices just hours after they'd left the studio.

  His mistake. One he wouldn't make again.

  As of today, the press would see Lacey Masters firmly pressed against his side at every turn. From now on, he would call the shots.

  Max picked up the phone and hit the button to reach his secretary. “Eleanor,” he spoke briskly, “make reservations at Gigi's for noon and have Bruce deliver Ms. Masters there."

  "Would you like me to reserve the private dining room?” Eleanor asked.

  Max gritted his teeth. Of course he wanted the private dining room. When had he ever taken a woman to Gigi's and not had the private dining room?

  Max stamped down his annoyance. Eleanor was being her usual efficient self. Max had a volatile temper and she'd learned the hard way to make no mistakes.

  "Yes,” he said tightly. He hesitated before he added, “Thank you, El."

  Max knew he didn't thank his secretary nearly enough. Many wondered how she'd managed to put up with him for the past few years. He had to admit, he sometimes wondered too.

  The one thing Max had learned over the years was a woman's thought process would always be a mystery to him. Eleanor had her reasons for staying and Max had no inclination to figure them out. Every day he walked into his office and found her stationed behind her desk was a blessing as far as he was concerned.

  Why try to figure out his secretary when he had bigger fish to fry? Or, to be more exact, a lovely woman to get into his bed.

  He and Lacey had gotten off on the wrong foot. Perhaps he even deserved the latest press release. But he had no intention of letting it happen again. The world, and Lacey, would soon know just how relentless he was when it came to conquering a woman.

  * * * *

  Lacey's body had been sizzling with dread and, she was loath to admit, excitement, from the moment Bruce came to collect her. The stoic chauffeur insisted she wear something befitting the swank downtown restaurant. He waited patiently while Lacey rifled through the clothes she'd won as part of the prize from the game show.

  Having no idea what to wear, she relied on Bruce's discerning eye. He'd nixed three conservative outfits before she finally donned a crimson, tight-fitting dress with a low-cut neckline. Lacey hated the clingy dress but Bruce's nod of approval said it all; she had found suitable attire for lunch with Maxwell Barton.

  Now she sat in the dimly lit private dining room at the exclusive downtown Toronto restaurant. She'd never dined at Gigi's before, the exclusive Italian menu being far too rich for her blood. But she had heard stories of the private dining room and just what happened here. Lacey was never one to buy into rumors so she ignored the stories of rich men and their conquests conducting illicit affairs within the confines of the room.

  Still, the fact the room was equipped with an ornate satin-covered daybed made the stories very hard to ignore. If the rumors were indeed true ... heck, even if they weren't ... it seemed Maxwell Barton intended to have more than a quick lunch.

  Lacey was in the middle of wondering how she felt about that when the door suddenly swung open. Her breath caught in her throat as Max's deep brown eyes landed on her. He said nothing as he turned and nodded to the maitre d'. The doors closed behind him as he slowly walked to the table. When he sat down, his dark gaze fell on her again. He looked
cool and confident in his designer suit as he leaned forward and placed his arms on the table.

  "I expect you found your accommodations to your liking,” he said.

  It wasn't a question and Lacey wasn't sure what to make of his polite tone. “Yes,” she replied. “The condo is very nice."

  "Good.” He said the word but his mind seemed elsewhere, as if there was something more ... something she'd certainly find out sooner or later.

  Lacey searched for something to say. “So, Mr. Barton..."

  Dark eyes locked with hers, causing shock waves to course through her.

  "I mean, Maxwell."

  His eyes darkened even more. He cocked his head to one side in annoyance.

  Lacey sighed heavily. “I guess you'll have to refresh my memory."

  "Max,” he barked impatiently.

  Lacey swallowed a lump in her throat as she attempted to hide her nervousness. “Right. Max,” she said slowly. “How has your day been?"

  Max took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Do you really want to know?"

  No! She'd be lying if she said she did. And yet she hoped she could pull it off. “Of course."

  Max picked up the menu in front of him and opened it. “Well,” he said as his eyes washed over the menu, “you can imagine my surprise when I picked up the morning paper and discovered my prowess has come into question."

  Lacey winced. “I can explain—"

  She winced when the menu hit the table with a loud slap. Max stared at her across the table, clearly making every attempt to keep his temper in check. “I'm sure you can,” he said. “But I don't give a sweet shit what you have to say about it."

  "But—"

  Max cut her off again. “Let me make things crystal clear for you,” he said through clenched teeth. “From here on, we are a couple in every sense of the word. Where I go, you go."

  "I didn't sign on for that,” Lacey said, bristling at his tone.

  "I don't care what you think you signed on for,” he said. “Everyone in this city thinks you're my mistress. And you are in every sense of the word. From here on, you will smile for the camera and act like we're madly in love."

  Lacey lifted her chin in defiance. She wasn't about to make the same mistake she made with Zack. She would not be owned by any man. “And if I don't?"

  Max smiled and leaned back in his chair. “If you don't, you're out on your pretty little ass. We both know your name is mud in this town.” He offered a coy smile. “Maybe Billings will offer you a hand up if you walk away from me."

  Lacey cringed. Zachary was a non-issue. She'd never consider going back to him even if he wanted her. But she loved living in Toronto and hoped she'd eventually recover from having made a huge mistake by loving Zachary Billings.

  Lacey chewed her bottom lip as she considered her circumstances. “What do you want from me?"

  Max grinned. The bastard knew he'd won. “Well, first, we'll have lunch,” he said in an all-too satisfied tone. “After that, who knows?” He shrugged. “You just might discover that I can indeed get it up."

  Lacey's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounded. “I am so sorry.You need to know that I was duped."

  Max picked up his menu and focused on it, showing no interest in what she was saying. “Were you?” he finally asked.

  "Yes. And I can explain,” she said nervously. “Some guy tricked me into thinking room service was at the door."

  Max's eyes trained on her then. “Did you order room service?"

  "Well, no. But he said it was complimentary.” When his eyes fell back to the menu, she went on. “And when they all came into my condo, questions about my affair with Zachary came up. They caught me off-guard. I know I made a mistake but I was overwhelmed."

  Max closed the menu and placed it on the table before he looked at her again. Lacey's eyes fell to his chest as he inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly.

  Is he trying to restrain his anger? Is he trying to keep himself from throttling me?

  "You didn't make a mistake,” he finally said. “I did. I never should have left you to your own devices. It won't happen again."

  Before Lacey could reply, Max pressed a button on the side of the table to summon the waiter. “I hope you don't mind if I order for both of us."

  That's it? The matter is closed?

  Lacey knew she should be relieved yet she felt her blood come to a slow boil. She never thought it was possible that anyone could be more arrogant than Zachary Billings.

  She was wrong. Very wrong.

  Maxwell Barton was, by far, the most arrogant man she'd ever met. The sooner she got him out of her life the better ... even if it meant she'd never find another job in Toronto.

  When the waiter took their order and quickly disappeared again, Lacey found herself staring at her fingers. Her gaze nervously shot to the daybed nearby and then back to her hands.

  "You're wondering, aren't you?” Maxwell asked.

  Lacey lifted her gaze to his. Her heart lurched when she saw the look of desire on his face as he examined her closely. She tried to control her thundering heart before she replied, “What do you suppose I'm wondering about?"

  His smile widened, causing crinkles to form around his eyes. “You're wondering if I intend to fuck you on that couch."

  Lacey's heart clenched as if a fist curled around it. Her mouth went dry as her body began to shake. Damn it! Why couldn't she be as cool and collected as Rachael? She quickly licked her parched lips and opened her mouth in an effort to reply but no words came forth. Her muddled mind hadn't given her an inkling of how to respond.

  Maxwell laughed softly, a gentle, deep-throated chuckle that drifted over her in sweet, sensuous plumes. He shook his head lightly. “Don't worry, Lacey,” he said. “I don't fuck women in restaurants, even when it is considered acceptable."

  Lacey suddenly found her voice. “So why did you bring me here?"

  He laughed again. “I happen to like the food.” He cocked his head to one side, examining her face, her expression. “I suppose Billings made good use of the daybed when he brought you here."

  "I've never been here before,” she said. She didn't add that Zack preferred his office, specifically her bent over his desk, driving into her from behind.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 5

  Max grinned as the limo spirited them through the city. Lacey hadn't been able to string two coherent words together since he announced he wouldn't make love to her on the daybed in the private dining room. He could have ordered shredded cardboard for lunch and she'd have eaten it.

  He knew she wasn't thrilled with the situation. In fact, he'd seen her lovely blue eyes turn cold as ice, yet knew he'd won. Lacey Masters might have spark in her soul but she was smart enough to know she was out of her element.

  Max snickered inwardly. Zachary Billings might have towed the line for Lacey as far as he could ... at least until his wife told him to give her up ... but Ms. Masters was in for a big surprise if she thought she could run roughshod over him.

  Max had to admit, he felt a bit sorry for Zack. They'd gone through college together and remained close friends for a few years after. But Max lost all respect for Zack when he married for money. Lacey's misadventure as Zack's mistress made her the latest in a long line of lovers his former friend had taken. Zack's marriage was as cold as the ice in Antarctica, and his finding solace in the arms of willing women was no surprise to anyone.

  Max glanced across the plush leather seat. He expected Zack would have struggled with the decision to give up Lacey. Beautiful and intelligent, soft yet sassy, Lacey would make a wonderful lover.

  Lacey squeezed herself against the car door. She looked tiny, fragile even, and so damn delectable. He longed to run his fingers through her long auburn hair, to touch her body, hold her against him and cup her breasts. His cock hardened as he imagined driving it into her pussy.

  Max opened the bar in front of him and splashed whiskey into two
glasses. When he held one out to Lacey, she gazed at him reluctantly. “You might need a bracer,” Max said.

  When she took the glass from his hand, her fingers brushed his. Max quelled the urge to wrap his hand around her fingers if only to feel their warmth.

  "Thank you,” she murmured before she turned her attention away from him.

  Heat sizzled through his body. He wanted to pull her against him and kiss those full red lips. Lacey was the first woman he'd ever wanted who hadn't come to him willingly. It frustrated him, set him on edge.

  Down, boy, the time will come soon enough.

  Max cocked his head to one side as he regarded her. “Will you tell me something?"

  Lacey's eyes reluctantly turned back to him. “I don't know,” she said. “I guess it depends on the question."

  Fair enough. “Why did you sign up for the game show?"

  Lacey's clear blue eyes clouded before she looked away. Max waited while she considered the question. He heard her take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her eyes focused on the glass in her hand. “I had nothing left to lose,” she said softly.

  Max frowned. “How so?"

  Lacey's chin jutted upward. “When Zachary dumped me, I lost everything. Not just my job but eventually my home too. With that, went my dignity. I was forced to ask friends for a place to sleep.” She hesitated before she added, “The hardest thing was giving up Harry."

  Max's brows knitted together. “Harry?"

  Max watched as she tipped the glass of whiskey to her lips and took a tiny sip. Her hand shook as she pulled the glass away from her mouth and settled it over her lap. “My dog. When I had to give up my home, I tried to find someone to take him. But Harry is a thirteen-year-old Irish Setter. He's set in his ways and not everyone has room for a large dog."

  "So what became of him?"

  "I had to take him to a shelter. He's up for adoption. But he's an old dog so...” Her voice trailed off. She didn't need to explain further. The odds of an old dog being adopted weren't great.

  He wanted to reach over, take her in his arms and tell her she'd never want for anything as long as she stayed with him.