Elusive Lover. Carole Mortimer

‘I’d just got to the part where I’ve denied myself female company,’ he derided. ‘Meeting you has made me decide it’s time to change all that. You’re good at cleaning, and anyone can cook. Your references as a lover aren’t all that good, but——’

      ‘That’s because——’

      ‘You’ve been choosing the wrong men,’ he erroneously finished her outburst. ‘You respond beautifully to me.’

      ‘Well, really!’ Erin gasped.

      ‘Yes, really,’ he mocked in that lazy drawl. ‘A few lessons and you’ll be just perfect.’

      Erin was very pale, wondering when this nightmare was going to end. ‘Lessons you intend giving me, I suppose?’ she said hollowly.

      ‘Of course.’

      She shook her head. ‘Are you insane, Mr Hawke, or am I?’

      ‘Neither of us, honey,’ he squeezed the hand he still held. ‘And I haven’t finished explaining yet. Now I have reason to go to London in a couple of weeks’ time——’

      ‘London?’ she echoed in a dreamlike voice.

      ‘Yes,’ Josh smiled. ‘Like to go with me?’

      ‘Go with you?’ she squeaked.

      ‘You’re beginning to sound like a parrot,’ he teased.

      ‘But I—— You said go with you?’ she asked eagerly.

      ‘Yes,’ he said suddenly serious again. ‘In return for your taking care of the house—and me, I’ll buy you your ticket back to London. What do you say?’

      What did she say? A chance to go back to London in two weeks and not the months she had envisaged. But at what a price!

      But why not? Joshua Hawke was a devastatingly attractive man, had already shown himself to be an accomplished lover, so why not accept his offer? At least she would be getting something back for what every other man seemed to want to take for nothing.

      But to share a bed with this man, with a complete stranger—was getting back to London worth that?

      Josh watched all the different emotions flickering across her face, the consternation, the doubt, the bewilderment. ‘Is it yes or no?’ he prompted hardly.

      ‘I—I don’t know,’ she muttered. ‘I—It seems a bit—drastic to me.’

      Humour quirked his mouth. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard sharing a bed with me called “drastic” before——’

      ‘There’s a first time for everything,’ Erin snapped.

      ‘There sure is,’ he grinned, underterred by her attitude. ‘But it won’t be the first time for you, will it?’

      Her eyes widened as she took in the implication of his words. If she said yes, would he withdraw his offer? She had a feeling he would. ‘No,’ she said shakily.

      Josh reached into the breast pocket of his denim jacket and took out a piece of paper. ‘Do you have a pen?’

      ‘In my bag,’ she answered in a puzzled voice, taking one out and handing it to him.

      He wrote something down on the piece of paper. ‘Here,’ he handed it to her, ‘take the rest of the day to think over my offer. You can leave a message for me at that telephone number any time until four o’clock. After that I’ll have left town.’ He picked up his hat, preparing to leave.

      Erin put her pen away and picked up the piece of paper. ‘I—Where is this?’

      ‘A friend’s house, the same friend that’s servicing my pick-up for me. He’ll be there all day, call him if you want me to pick you up someplace.’ He stood up.

      Erin looked up at him with wide eyes. ‘Where are you going?’

      ‘I have some business in town.’

      ‘You never did tell me what work you do,’ she frowned.

      ‘Time enough for that if you decide to take me up on my offer, and if you don’t… Well, then it won’t matter.’ He picked up the bill, tipping his hat to her. ‘See ya.’

      Erin watched in frustrated silence as he moved to the desk to pay for their meal, the infatuated Marie moving hastily to take his money, giggling and blushing as he talked softly to her.

      Damn him! He had just propositioned her, and now he was walking out of her life as if she meant nothing to him.

      Maybe she didn’t, except as someone to cook and clean for him—and share his bed. Two weeks of having a man like that for a lover could leave her more scarred than she was already.

      But London! It beckoned like a pair of warm arms on a cold day. She liked Canada, but for all she had been born here she felt alien, longed for the rush and bustle of England’s capital, for the sight of the familiar black taxis, a red bus, the pigeons in Trafalgar Square. No matter where she had been born, London was her home, and she longed for it with a desperation that bordered on panic.

      Enough to become Joshua Hawke’s lover? She baulked at the word mistress, the description sounded subservient. It would simply be a job, like any other, with no emotion involved, and a plane ticket back to London would be her wages.