His Private Mistress
Mills & Boon Modern Romance
June 2006
ISBN: 0263848205
Harlequin Presents
August 2007
ISBN: 0373126549
Betrayal in public, passion in private…
Four years ago, the incredibly passionate and very public relationship between a charismatic Italian Formula One racing driver and an innocent young journalist ended in an explosion of betrayal and deceit. Rafael Santini and Eden Lawrence never wanted to see each other again.
Only now Rafe is back in Eden’s life, and he seems determined to make her his mistress once more. An older, wiser Eden knows she needs more from Rafe than sex, but she’s still unable to resist her body’s desire for the only man she’s ever loved…
‘You seem to be making a habit of walking into my home uninvited,’ she snapped. ‘How did you get in? Don’t tell me the front door was open because I know I locked it.’
In reply, he dangled his door key in front of her and she stared at it, her puzzlement obvious. ‘Actually, it’s my home,’ he corrected mildly and she drew a sharp breath.
‘Since when was your name Hank Malloy?’
‘Hank is the chief executive of a subsidiary company of the Santini Corporation who arranged the lease of this house. I understand you’re my housekeeper – welcome on board.’
Sneaky didn’t cover it; Machiavellian was nearer the mark. She’d known there had to be a catch and patently he was it. He was studying her with indolent amusement, all powerful, dominant male, his back jeans and leather jacket emphasising his height and raw sexual magnetism, and it took all her reserves of will-power to resist his pull.
‘I assume you have a good reason for what is almost certainly a fraudulent act - tricking me into signing that contract,’ she qualified, and he gave a slow smile.
‘Several.’
‘Do you care to explain them?’
‘A practical demonstration would be more illuminating.’ He closed the space between them in a heartbeat, his hand cupping her nape to angle her head so that he could plunder her mouth at will. Resistance was impossible when her senses were drugged by the seductive musk of his cologne. The heat from his body enfolded her, his arms drawing her in against the solid wall of his chest and she could feel his heart thudding furiously beneath her fingertips. He kissed her until her lips were swollen, until she was boneless and totally pliant in his arms, and only then did he ease back a fraction, brushing his mouth gently over hers while she clung to him, desperate to prolong the moment she would have to admit that her defences had crumbled at the first attack.
‘Why are you hounding me?’ she whispered when he released her and she wrapped her arms defensively around her body. ‘What do you want from me?’
The answer was simple but she wasn’t ready to hear it, he acknowledged grimly, her air of vulnerability and the tremulous quiver of her lips causing him a momentary attack of conscience. Perhaps he should let her go, walk away and forget the closeness they’d once shared, the joy, but he’d tried keeping his distance and four years on she still dogged his every waking thought.
‘I’m hardly hounding you, cara mia; you’re in my house, sleeping in my bed – figuratively speaking, that is,’ he added when she looked as though she would explode.
‘Do you honestly expect me to believe that my position here as housekeeper is sheer coincidence?’ she demanded bitingly, and he shrugged.
‘Hell no; it took a lot of planning and I still couldn’t be certain that when your eager estate agent friend was asked to find a suitable housekeeper at short notice he would appoint you. He might just have easily given the position to his elderly receptionist, and I have to admit I wouldn’t have greeted her so enthusiastically.’
His eyes glinted with amusement as he studied her flushed face and she was torn between the desire to hit him and to burst into tears. She’d forgotten how he loved to tease her, forgotten his easy sense of humour and the laughter they’d shared, and she didn’t want to remember any of it now.
‘I’m sure Gloria will be an excellent replacement,’ she told him coolly, ‘because I have no intention of staying here with you.’ Swiftly, she ran from the room, tore up the stairs to her bedroom and pulled her suitcase from under the bed. She was in the process of piling her clothes into it when he appeared in the doorway, but she ignored him, her movements jerky and uncoordinated as she tried to fasten the zip.
‘You know it’s raining?’ her queried mildly.
‘I don’t care.’ The storm had worked itself up to a crescendo, the rain smashing against the window. ‘I’d sooner go out in a hurricane than spend one more minute under the same roof as you.’ He was blocking the doorway, an immovable force, but she pushed against his chest anyway, needing to get away from him before she did something stupid like beg him to kiss her again. ‘What part of “I don’t want to give our relationship another chance” do you not understand?’ she shouted, but even that didn’t provoke the loss of temper she was expecting.
‘This part,’ he said softly, and this time his lips were gentle, his kiss so full of tender compassion that the tears behind her eyelids escaped and slid down her cheeks. He had cupped her face with both his hands and stilled fractionally when he felt wetness on his fingers, but he didn’t lift his head, just deepened the kiss, coaxing a response she was powerless to deny.
When he’d done she stepped back, her eyes dark with a mixture of desire and confusion. How could one kiss evoke such a stark hunger for more, and, God damn it; what had happened to her pride? ‘Let me go,’ she pleaded huskily but he merely smiled…