His Permanent Mistress: Mistress Under Contract. Kate Hardy

his elbows on his raised knees. ‘You physically and mentally exhaust me.’

      ‘And that’s a good thing?’

      ‘It is, because then I can sleep and that feels fantastic.’He turned and caught her gaze full on again. ‘Tell me it isn’t the same for you.’

      She’d promised him she wouldn’t lie. It was the same. Sparring with him, wondering what angle he was coming from. Trying to figure out what the hell was going on in that overly complex brain of his—and trying to hide what was going on in hers—wore her out. And then there was the sex—consuming every ounce of physical energy she had. Leaving her drained yet replete. Exhausted but invigorated. And able to sleep—in his arms.

      ‘I sleep OK with you.’ She’d said she wouldn’t lie; as far as she was concerned understating things was still allowed.

      ‘So it’s a deal, then? We sleep together—all senses of the word.’

      She supposed she should say no. Most other women would. Ha—that was a lie: most women would leap at the chance to be with Daniel night after night. His lover credentials were unbeatable. Physique plus technique equals magnifique.

      She just had to remember there was nothing else on offer here. Merely a deal to sleep with someone—two insomniacs having regular sex in the quest for a decent night’s rest after.

      Anyway, she shouldn’t want anything else, should she? Not from a shining example of modern conservative establishment like Daniel.

      ‘OK.’ She nodded. ‘Someone to sleep with.’ That was all he would be. Her bedmate.

      He kissed her. ‘I have to go to work. Be here tonight.’

      Who was she kidding? When he kissed her like that fantasies of night after night leading to for ever skipped through her head. She frowned. ‘After the club?’

      He nodded. ‘My bed.’

      She looked down. She was afraid that, now he’d seen into her once, he’d see all there was to see all the time. That she was turning all female and falling for him. What had happened to her bluffing skills?

      He took her chin again and tilted her face back to him. ‘No regrets.’

      Once more he kissed her—thoroughly, deeply, teasingly. And it was so unfair because now she was left in bed warm and wet and wanting all over once more and he was gone for the day. She should be gone for good. Instead she rolled over and snuggled in the scent of him, in his sheets. So she couldn’t say no, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t come up with a strategy. She’d challenge him right back.

       CHAPTER TEN

       You find it difficult to switch off from your job

      WHEN Lucy got home in the early hours Daniel was lying on the sofa reading, waiting.

      ‘Have you eaten?’

      She shook her head and glanced at the spotless kitchen. ‘Nor have you.’

      ‘Let’s get pizza.’ Instead of reaching for the phone, he reached for her instead. He tipped her head back and she opened her mouth and welcomed him with her tongue, her arms, the press of her pelvis against his.

      He lifted away fractionally. ‘What do you want? Really want. And I don’t mean on your pizza.’

      ‘I want to come. I want you to make me come. I want you to come with me.’ She’d turned into a nymphomaniac just like that. She’d always craved freedom—rebelled against her family, her school, any form of authority. It was why she loved dancing. But that freedom was nothing on the freedom she’d found in his arms. The way she could be held but made to feel as if she were flying. It was a freedom that kept her chained to him. She needed to combat it—by seeing how far she could push him. ‘You phone the pizza. I’ll be back in a minute.’

      His gaze hit on her cowboy hat the minute she came back into the room twirling it. His smile grew. ‘You want me to dress up as a cowboy?’

      ‘Oh, no. You’ve got it all wrong.’ She donned the hat at a rakish angle and pouted. ‘I’m the one who does the riding.’

      He put on an appalling western accent. ‘Well, jump on, darlin’. This stallion is more than a little frisky—care to break him in?’

      ‘Actually, no, I was hoping for a wild ride.’

      His brows shot up.

      She walked towards him, letting her hips sway. ‘Ever done that, Daniel? Ever totally given up control? Ever just done what you wanted regardless of how crazy just because it felt too good not to?’

      ‘I thought I did that last night.’

      ‘I think you can do better.’

      ‘Do you now?’

      ‘Maybe. Can you, Daniel? Forget everything but how you feel? Can you not think? That enough of a challenge for you?’

      ‘Not think? Trouble, if I was thinking, I wouldn’t be here right now.’

      Her mouth softened in appreciation. If she were thinking she’d be out of here too. Instead the feeling was too good to ignore. ‘Dance with me.’

      He took her in waltz hold and expertly span her around the room. She pushed him away, waggling her finger at him as if he were a naughty schoolboy. ‘You’re still in control, Daniel. I want you to lose it.’

      He pulled her closer. ‘You know, you’re not that great at letting go either, Lucy. You’re too busy coming up with cutting comments and being all prickly.’

      She stared up at him. There were reasons for the prickles. Good ones. Protective ones.

      His eyes accused her. ‘You don’t want anyone to get too close.’

      Well, he was as guilty of that as she was. And, yeah, she found it hard to trust people. Now the person she trusted least was herself. She wanted Daniel beyond belief but he couldn’t give her anything more than his body—and even that was only on short-term loan, so she had to do the protective thing more than ever.

      ‘Ever let go, Lucy? Ever not think?’ This wasn’t right—he wasn’t supposed to turn the tables.

      ‘On the dance floor.’

      ‘OK.’ Wicked light flared in his eyes. ‘Dance for me.’

      She stepped back from him, her smile of delight wide as she figured the way to rule him again. ‘You want me to strip too?’

      ‘I…um…’

      The key to success—she’d just rendered him speechless. Out of control was fast approaching, for both of them. She shimmied towards him. ‘I’m dancing to country, you know, in my head.’

      ‘As I can’t hear it, that’s just fine.’

      She spent the night in his arms. Sleeping with him. All night. Relaxed. Secure. Everything she’d wanted, from the wrong man—the emotional vacuum that was Daniel Graydon. Fate was nasty.

      He rose early. From his bed she watched through the open door as he shaved and showered. He walked back through. Silent. She could see he was miles away, no doubt already mentally slugging it out in the courtroom. He dressed. Dark suit, white shirt, dark tie. Her passionate, playful lover disappeared under the guise, turned into a frowning figure. Austere. She hated it.

      Then he surprised her by turning to her with a smile that made her forget his clothing. ‘Walk with me. Come and see where I work.’

      She didn’t want to. She really didn’t want to. ‘Why?’

      He shrugged. ‘Why not? A walk in the early-morning sun will do you some good.’