The Multi-Millionaire's Virgin Mistress. Cathy Williams

open face and felt like a monster, but this was a conversation that had to be undertaken. His future had unexpectedly come rushing towards him like a freight train, leaving him no choice.

      ‘Did you ever think about qualifying and going to teach somewhere else?’

      ‘Somewhere else? Why should I? You know that St Nicks have offered me a post for after I qualify.’

      Her face softened as she thought of the pleasing prospect of teaching the children there. She was nothing like the high-flier that Alessandro was, and her future might not be so ruthlessly controlled as his appeared to be, but it was still looking pretty rosy from where she was sitting.

      ‘Where else should I be going to teach?’

      ‘What about an inner-city school?’

      ‘Why are we having this conversation? Is it because you’re still mad at me—because I embarrassed you in front of those people? Don’t be…You wait right here, and I’m going to get us both something to drink. Some wine…’

      She didn’t give him time to answer, or to follow up with some more heavy-duty remarks about life choices. Instead, she stood up and did a little sexy shimmy, throwing him a seductive look over one shoulder, before heading for the kitchen and pouring them a large glass of wine each.

      She’d kind of hoped that he would be undressed when she returned, because he was always, but always, predictable when it came to being turned on by her, but he wasn’t. In fact, he was standing up, and he had an awkward look on his face that promised more talking.

      Whatever those guys had said to him had obviously made him a little too thoughtful, and it was her duty, she told herself mischievously, to take his mind off matters. And at the back of her mind she knew she really didn’t want to hear what Alessandro wanted to say….

      A very good place to start would be with his shirt. She placed the glasses on the small, beaten-up round table by the window and pulled off the white shirt, which she casually tossed over a chair.

      ‘Megan…’ Alessandro turned away and leaned heavily against the wall. ‘This isn’t a good time for this.’ He tensed as he heard her walk towards him. He could picture the teasing smile on her face.

      ‘Don’t tell me you’re getting too old for sex,’ she said to his averted back. ‘You’re only a year older!’ She wrapped her arms around his torso and then slipped her hands under the tee shirt, gently rubbing his flattened brown nipples with the tips of her fingers.

      Alessandro shuddered, furious with himself for not being able to push her away when he knew that he had to. For both their sakes.

      He felt the push of her breasts against him and turned round with a stifled moan, his big body arching back in denial of the primitive instincts he seemed unable to control.

      He closed his eyes and shuddered again.

      Nine months of seeing her, practically living with her, even though her college was over twenty miles away. Out towards the country because, she had told him often enough, big cities gave her a headache. Something about her was irresistible.

      She took his hand and guided it to the strap of the black swimsuit which she was still wearing.

      ‘At least the cake wasn’t real,’ Megan murmured, already wet and hot for him. ‘Can you imagine if I’d emerged covered in Victoria sponge?’

      She stood on tiptoe so that she could kiss his neck, and even though he wasn’t, as he usually was, devouring her with his hunger, he was responding. She could feel it in the tension of his muscles—and… She put her hand on him and shivered with pleasure at the very big, very hard indication of just how much he wanted her—even if, for some weird reason, he was trying to fight it.

      ‘Mind you,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘you would have had to lick it all off…’

      The image was too powerful for Alessandro. He looked at her, at the deep cleavage inviting him to touch, promising him physical satisfaction of the kind he had never known in his life before.

      I am, he thought with a strange feeling of helplessness, only a man, dammit!

      He hooked his fingers under the straps of the swimsuit and ran them up and down against her smooth skin.

      ‘A man could lose himself in the thought of that,’ he said roughly, and all thoughts of talk vanished as he pulled down the straps and gazed at her breasts, large in comparison to her small frame, and perfectly formed. Milky-white and succulently heavy, with rose-pink nipples like discs, pouting provocatively at him.

      He pulled her shakily towards the sofa and then, kicking off his shoes, lay down. He figured he had damn near found heaven as she moved on top of him, sitting just in the right spot, so that he could feel the friction of his hardness against her through his trousers. She leant forwards, letting her breasts dangle temptingly above his mouth, and with a groan of utter abandonment Alessandro took one of the proffered nipples into his mouth, losing himself in the sensation of tasting her. He suckled on it, then when he was finished lavished the same attention on the other.

      He wanted her completely naked. With fierce, driven movements he rid her of the swimsuit, stopping her when she tried to pull the tee shirt over his head.

      ‘But I want to see you…’ Megan whimpered.

      He didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed her back, spreading her legs in one deft motion, and her protest died on her lips as she felt his tongue invade her, sliding and exploring her depths until she was squirming, turned on to the point where thinking became an impossibility.

      ‘Alessandro!’ She curled her fingers into his dark hair and tugged him up. She was breathing heavily, her eyes closed, and she felt him undo the zipper of his trousers so that he could free himself.

      She wasn’t even entirely sure that he had removed his trousers before driving deep into her, his thrusting urgent, taking her by surprise.

      It was quick, fierce lovemaking, and afterwards they were both breathless and spent. Alessandro was unusually quiet as he pushed himself away from her, so that he could get back into his jeans and then fetch a bottle of water from the fridge, which he proceeded to drink in one long swallow.

      ‘You need to get dressed, Megan, and then we’ll talk.’

      Megan felt a chill of fear race up and down her spine, obliterating everything in its path.

      Talk about what? she was desperate to ask, but his shuttered expression kept that question reined in, and she silently went to the bedroom and rescued the only items of clothing she kept at his place: a pair of jeans and a sweater.

      When she returned, it was to find that he had taken up position by the table, so that when she sat down, facing him, it felt like an awkward interview.

      ‘If it’s about my cake surprise, you have my word I won’t do anything like that again. It’ll take more than one shampoo before my hair recovers from the masking tape. In fact, I’m going to have to sack my production manager.’

      Alessandro didn’t return her grin. This was going to be a difficult conversation, made all the worse by the fact that they should never have made love. He had allowed himself a selfish luxury, one which he deeply regretted.

      ‘This isn’t about your cake surprise, Megan. This is about those three men who were here. I’ve been head-hunted.’ It had come as no great surprise to Alessandro. He was good. He had been head-hunted before, and had turned down all offers. With or without intervention, he was going to go places—although this particular intervention would be helpful in the near future.

      ‘Wow, Alessandro! That’s fantastic! We should celebrate…’ But it wasn’t a celebrating atmosphere. ‘You don’t look overjoyed.’

      Alessandro shrugged. ‘Little do they realise it, but they will discover that they need me more than I need them.’

      Megan laughed.