The Tycoon's Mistress. Кэрол Мортимер

      ‘Your look of reproach is a little late in coming, don’t you think?’ he drawled dryly. ‘As well as being misdirected!’ he added scathingly.

      January flinched as if he had hit her, his words certainly wounding, if not physically then emotionally.

      ‘I have to go.’ She pushed back the tangle of her hair as she scrambled over to the side of the bed, wondering when she had ever felt so miserable. Never, came the unequivocal answer!

      ‘Running away, January?’ Max murmured tauntingly as she reached the bedroom door.

      She turned to give him a sharp reply, the words catching in her throat as she saw herself reflected in the mirror across the room, seeing herself as she never had before.

      Her hair was a tangled cloud about her shoulders, her eyes a wild dark grey, her face a white blur, her lips bruised red with passion. She looked exactly what she was—a woman who had recently been roused to a passion she might never recover from!

      She swallowed hard, forcing her gaze from that wanton reflection as she looked across at Max contemptuously. ‘Not running, Max, walking,’ she corrected with hard derision. ‘I should never have come here in the first place!’ she added bitterly.

      ‘No, you shouldn’t,’ he acknowledged hardly, moving to sit back on the bed, one arm behind his head as he rested back against the headboard. ‘A short time ago, you asked me how I sleep at night,’ he reminded tauntingly. ‘Well, I can tell you, the answer to that is “very rarely alone”,’ he drawled mockingly, blue eyes openly laughing at her now.

      January stiffened defensively at the pain his words caused, easily able to envisage him in bed with a sea of faceless women—especially with him sprawled out on the bed in that telling way!

      Her mouth twisted disgustedly. ‘Well, it looks as if you lucked out tonight, doesn’t it?’ she scorned.

      He gave a lazy glance at the gold watch nestling amongst the dark hairs on his wrist. ‘There’s still time.’ He shrugged.

      January gasped, glaring at him now as she spat out the words, ‘You’re despicable!’

      He gave another shrug, blue eyes as hard as sapphires now. ‘Go home, January,’ he scorned dismissively. ‘Come back when you’ve grown up a little.’

      Her hands were clenched so tightly at her sides she could feel her fingernails digging into her palms. ‘It really was all an act from start to finish, wasn’t it?’ she burst out emotionally. ‘That remark about love at first sight was part of your seduction, too,’ she added chokingly.

      He grimaced. ‘Most women, I’ve found, respond to the word love rather than lust.’ He gave a humourless smile. ‘I have to admit, January, you shocked the hell out of me when you called it exactly what it is!’ He gave an appreciative inclination of his head.

      She felt sick, mostly at herself, she admitted; she had guessed what sort of man Max was from the beginning, had no excuse for what had just happened between them.

      ‘But the feeling of lust, thank goodness, isn’t confined to one person,’ Max continued dismissively. ‘Besides, January—’ his gaze was once again mocking ‘—I have a feeling that if either of us isn’t going to sleep tonight it’s going to be you!’ He looked across at her challengingly.

      She had to get out of here. Away from Max. Away from this room, and the memory of how close they had come to making love…!

      ‘My conscience is clear, Max—how about yours?’ she scorned, head held high.

      He grimaced dismissively. ‘The same.’

      She gave a disgusted shake of her head. ‘Then you must have a very different idea of what I consider acceptable behaviour!’

      He shrugged. ‘For someone who was leaving at least five minutes ago, you don’t seem in any particular hurry to do so?’ He quirked mocking brows.

      January drew in a sharp breath at his taunt. ‘Don’t worry, Max—I’m going. And I never want to see you again!’ She breathed agitatedly.

      He gave a grim smile. ‘No chance of that happening, I’m afraid, January,’ he drawled. ‘After all, I’m still negotiating on behalf of the Marshall Corporation to buy your family farm.’

      ‘Over my dead body!’ she told him with feeling.

      ‘If you insist on driving in snowstorms—that might very well be the case,’ he mocked dryly.

      She had to go. Now. Before she totally humiliated herself and began to cry!

      ‘Take care, January,’ Max murmured softly. ‘I hope you sleep well,’ he added tauntingly.

      She gave a pained frown at this last comment, turning sharply on her heel and almost running from the room, only lingering long enough to grab her coat from the floor where it had fallen before hurrying from the hotel suite as if the devil himself were at her heels.

      He was hateful. Horrible. The most horrible man she had ever met in her life!

      How could she have been so stupid?

      How could she have so totally misjudged a person?

      How—?

      ‘January…?’

      She looked up frowningly as she crossed the reception area of the hotel, her brow clearing slightly as she recognized John, the barman, obviously just coming in for his evening shift.

      He looked at her concernedly. ‘Hey, are you okay?’

      Okay? She might never be ‘okay’ again!

      ‘Fine,’ she assured him huskily, hoping she didn’t look as bad as she felt.

      She had straightened her hair a little while travelling down in the lift, but she hadn’t been able to do anything about the paleness of her face, or that slightly bruised look to her lips.

      ‘You don’t look okay.’ Obviously John wasn’t fooled for a minute, still frowning his concern. ‘Come through to the bar and have a brandy,’ he encouraged worriedly.

      She gave a humourless laugh, shaking her head. ‘I won’t, if you don’t mind. I’ve already had one accident today,’ she explained ruefully. ‘My sister will kill me if I prang her car, too!’

      His eyes widened. ‘You’ve been involved in an accident?’

      ‘Only with a ditch.’ She grimaced. ‘I really do have to go, John,’ she apologized lightly. ‘Is it still snowing?’ She really had no idea how long she had been in Max’s hotel suite, or what the weather was like, either!

      ‘No, it’s stopped,’ John told her distractedly. ‘You really don’t look well, January, are you sure you wouldn’t like me to get someone to take over in the bar for me for a couple of hours and drive you home?’

      ‘That’s very kind of you.’ She touched his arm gratefully. ‘But no,’ she insisted. ‘I drove here, I can drive back.’

      ‘Meridew didn’t call you in, did he?’ John muttered disgustedly.

      ‘No, nothing like that.’ She avoided his concerned gaze. ‘I really do have to go, John,’ she told him briskly. ‘Have a good evening!’ She hurried away before he could delay her further.

      Or question her further! The fewer people who knew she had been stupid enough to visit Max in his hotel suite, the better!

      It was bad enough that she knew. That she was totally aware of what an idiot she had been. Of how totally she had misjudged Max’s true nature.

      Well, she wouldn’t make that mistake again. In fact, she meant it when she said she hoped she never saw him again!

      Good, Max. Very good, he congratulated himself as he still lay back on the bed. He had deliberately set out to make January