The Rich Man's Reluctant Mistress. Margaret Mayo

her like this? Or, more importantly, why was she allowing it? Why was she letting him affect her?

      Because he was one hell of a sexy man, that was the answer. She couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want to like him but was constantly pulled towards him in a cycle that would be difficult to break.

      Zane probably took it for granted that most women, if not all, would fall at his feet. He could bed any woman he liked. But she didn’t have to be one of them! Without any shadow of doubt she would need to be on her guard at all times.

      ‘Your mother’s remarried. What happened to your father?’

      ‘He died,’ she answered bluntly, trying to hide the pain that still shot through her whenever she spoke about him.

      ‘I’m sorry. How did that happen?’

      ‘He’d been ill a long time. It was inevitable,’ she told him, while knowing that he didn’t really care.

      ‘I’m genuinely interested,’ he assured her, reading her expression. ‘I’m interested in people. I like to find out what motivates them. I already know that you don’t like your stepfather.’ Lucinda frowned and sat up just a little bit straighter. ‘I didn’t tell you that.’

      ‘No, but you gave the impression.’

      ‘Actually, it’s true.’ Her shoulders relaxed a little. ‘I hate him, and the feeling’s mutual—except that he doesn’t let my mother know it. And I hate my mother for marrying him simply for his money,’ she added bitterly.

      ‘She did that?’

      ‘It’s what many women do,’ she retorted, her eyes shooting sparks of angry fire. ‘Not that I have any intention of falling into that same trap! I’ll make my own money, thank you.’

      Zane pursed his lips and nodded his head. ‘Wise woman! We’re two of a kind, you and I.’

      Lucinda frowned. She knew what he meant but she didn’t like being lumped into the same category. She would never spend her money on lavish houses all over the world, not if she had a thousand million in the bank. Such extravagances didn’t appeal. The fact that people did it, and needed the likes of her to improve their interiors, was a different matter altogether.

      ‘So—tell me about your father,’ he said encouragingly. ‘How old were you when he died?’

      Lucinda pursed her lips and her eyes grew sad. ‘Fifteen. I was heartbroken. He’d spent most of his life in and out of hospitals; we didn’t have any money, but he more than made up for it. There was always love and laughter in our house. I was so happy. What I didn’t know was that my mother gradually resented the fact that we were poor.

      ‘After my father died she met Goldberg, a very wealthy property developer. She shamelessly threw herself at him and within a few months they were married. We moved from our tiny rented property into his palatial mansion. He paid for my higher education; I appreciate that, but he will never replace my father. He was the most wonderful man.’

      Tears misted her eyes and instantly Zane leaned forward and gathered her into his arms, dabbing her eyes with his handkerchief, murmuring words of reassurance. At first Lucinda didn’t resist; she actually felt comforted by his action, but then the reality of the situation hit her.

      This man had employed her to do a job, and he was in the same league as David Goldberg; there was no way in this world that she was going to have an affair with him. He may have been only consoling her, but that wasn’t the point. She had seen the hungry look in his eyes; she knew his reputation. If she weren’t careful she would end up in his bed.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, straining to pull away. ‘It always gets to me when I talk about my father. If he knew what my mother had done he’d turn in his grave. He loved her so much. Love was all he had to give. And he gave it in bucketfuls.’ Tears welled again.

      Zane pushed her head into his shoulder and held her there until she began to feel better. He stroked her hair, which had become free from its restraining tie. It amazed Lucinda that a man as important as Zane Alexander should have this caring side to him. It was totally unexpected.

      Unless, of course, it wasn’t because he cared! Maybe he was using her distress as a way of getting through to her? Maybe he thought it would lead to other things? Even as the thought occurred to her Lucinda pushed her hands hard against his chest. ‘I’m all right now.’

      ‘Are you sure?’ He blocked her escape by cupping her face between warm firm hands. There was something almost primeval in his eyes as they locked with hers, a desire as old as man himself, and Lucinda felt unwanted warmth steal into her. It started in her toes and gradually worked its way through each limb until her whole body raged with fire. This was a situation she had told herself she would avoid at all costs. This was Zane the playboy in action. And already her needs were being fuelled by his closeness.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      ZANE knew that Lucinda was torn between letting him kiss her and doing the right thing and pushing him away. He was sorry about her father, of course he was, and when he persuaded her into his arms it hadn’t been his intention to take the situation any further. But holding her against him, feeling the warmth of her body and smelling its sweetness, had aroused all of his base instincts. He wanted her! And he wanted her now.

      

      It took all of Lucinda’s will-power to move out of Zane’s embrace. It felt as though she was wrenching herself free of an iron clamp instead of the light touch of his hands. It really had been a big mistake coming here. She had put greed for his business before what was best for her.

      ‘I wish you hadn’t done that,’ she told him tightly, the words crackling out of a throat gone tremendously dry.

      ‘Done what?’

      Did he really need her to spell it out? ‘You know what I’m talking about,’ she retorted. ‘I appreciate the use of your handkerchief but I don’t need comforting in other ways.’

      ‘And what way would that be?’

      A steely glint appeared in his eyes and Lucinda began to wonder whether she had misjudged him. Whether it was her fertile imagination that had seen something that wasn’t there. Whatever, he looked far from pleased.

      She shook her head and got up from her chair. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

      ‘And I say it does matter,’ he rejoined fiercely. ‘I do not like being criticised.’

      ‘It doesn’t count that you’re already cast as a playboy?’

      ‘You’ve heard the rumour?’ A faint smile curved his lips. ‘Who told you that, I wonder?’

      Lucinda jutted her chin and stared hostilely. ‘Actually I’d had my suspicions, but my stepfather confirmed it.’

      ‘Ah!’ Enlightenment filled his eyes. ‘And you took his word as truth? A man you incidentally hate the sight of? It didn’t occur to you that he could be saying it because he didn’t want you working for me?’

      It was true; David Goldberg definitely didn’t like to think that her career was taking off. He liked to think that she hadn’t the intelligence to do well for herself. Why, she had no idea. Maybe because she had always resented him! At the age of fifteen her hormones had been all over the place; she’d just lost her beloved father, her mother had all too quickly remarried and Lucinda’s resentment of the new man in their life had caused ill feelings between them, which had never gone away.

      ‘I don’t care whether it’s true or not,’ she told him now. ‘And I have no wish to continue this conversation.’ She sprang up from her seat and ran round to the other side of the house, where she stripped off her skirt and top and dived cleanly into the pool. She desperately needed to cool off.

      She was feverishly hot and the water mercifully cold, and after a few energetic lengths her ragged nerves were calmed. She had half expected Zane