To Claim His Mistress. Sara Craven

of his presence was his version of goodbye, avoiding all excuses or explanations.

      She’d set herself up, she thought with sudden bleakness, for a one-night stand. So she could hardly complain that Liam had taken advantage of that—and of her. Or that he’d walked away afterwards.

      Cat bent forward, resting her forehead defeatedly on her knees and squeezing her eyes so tightly shut that they hurt. At the same time she was aware that no physical pain could even compete with the small, bewildered ache deep within her. Or the inexplicable sense of loss.

      A sudden rap at the door had her shooting upright, her whole body tense, her mouth dry.

      ‘Who—who is it?’ she managed.

      ‘Room service, madam.’ A woman’s voice. ‘Your breakfast.’

      A key rattled in the lock and she came in, middle-aged, brisk and efficient in a striped overall, carrying a tray. Swiftly she unfolded its supporting legs and placed the tray across Cat’s lap.

      Cat, bewildered, was confronted by fresh orange juice, warm croissants in a basket, with dishes of honey and black cherry jam, and a tall pot of coffee. And a single red rose in a narrow crystal vase.

      She hadn’t ordered any food, but maybe breakfast came with the room—and she couldn’t deny that she was hungry, she thought, as she thanked the woman with a smile and unfolded her napkin. Besides, she had the journey back to London ahead of her, and she had no wish to undertake it on an empty stomach.

      Although there was nothing she could do about the strange void which seemed to have opened up inside her where her heart should be.

      Don’t even think like that, she adjured herself with sudden fierceness. It’s irrelevant. You’re not looking for a soulmate but a lover, for the occasional night of mutual passion and fulfilment, and in that respect Liam could have been the answer to your prayer.

      But he’s gone, so you’ll just have to forget the ‘might-havebeen’ and continue the search elsewhere—one of these days.

      And, with a determined nod, Cat applied herself to her breakfast.

      The meal over, she repacked her case, leaving out only a change of underwear and the clothes she’d worn the previous evening, then went into the bathroom to have a shower.

      She stood for a while, eyes closed, under the powerful cascade, relishing its sting against her flesh, then reached for the soap.

      But someone was there before her.

      ‘Allow me,’ Liam murmured, sliding warm arms around her and drawing her back against him.

      Cat yelped, her heart banging against her ribcage in shock. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded raggedly as she started to breathe again.

      ‘I came to wish you good morning,’ he said, deftly taking the soap from her unresisting hand and making it into a lather. He began to apply it slowly and gently to her damp skin, making little circular movements, covering her breasts, belly and thighs with the creamy foam.

      Cat felt an almost drugging weakness begin to invade her senses under his ministrations, and realised that if he hadn’t been holding her she would probably have slid limply to the floor of the shower.

      ‘But I’m not going to ask if you slept well, because I know you did,’ he added softly in her ear.

      ‘Yes.’ It was barely more than a croak. Her head fell back against his shoulder as the delicate movements of his hands shifted to a more intimate dimension.

      ‘But now…’ his lips found the sensitive spot beneath her ear ‘…now you’re awake again.’

      Her only answer was a sigh, as Liam discarded the soap and began to caress her breasts, teasing the excited nipples with his fingertips. She could feel the pressure of his arousal, and moved against him with deliberate provocation.

      His reaction was immediate. He turned her to face him, his mouth seeking hers hotly and without reserve, then lifted her in his arms and brought her down to him, his wet, slippery body joining effortlessly with hers in one swift act of possession.

      Cat clung to him, mouth locked to his, her arms round his neck and her legs twined round his waist, her whole self attuned to the burning rhythm of his powerful thrusting. Her own response was ardent and complete.

      When the first tiny tendrils of pleasure began to uncurl inside her she gasped against his lips, but as the sensations intensified, and she felt all control sliding away, she gave a small, frightened cry.

      ‘Don’t fight me, darling.’ He muttered the words hoarsely into her mouth. ‘Just—let go.’

      The breath sobbed in her throat as she obeyed, and felt the first fierce shaft of ecstasy piercing her to the soul. She could hear herself moaning in a kind of delirium as her body seemed to dissolve in one rapturous convulsion after another, and was aware of him shuddering against her as his body found its own powerful release.

      She was still clinging to him, sated, exhausted, when he turned off the water and lifted her out of the cubicle. He grabbed a bath sheet from the rail and flung it round them both as he carried her into the bedroom.

      When she could speak, she said, with a kind of wonder, ‘Is that—really how you say good morning?’

      They were lying on the bed together, still wrapped in towelling, as well as each other’s arms.

      Liam kissed her gently on the mouth. ‘Indeed it is,’ he murmured. ‘Also goodnight, and on really lucky days good afternoon, too.’

      ‘My God,’ she said faintly. She moved back a little, studying him. ‘How did you get in here, anyway?’

      ‘The chambermaid left the door open for a moment when she came for your tray.’

      ‘How—extremely fortunate.’

      ‘Indeed,’ he said gravely. ‘I must remember to leave her a generous tip.’

      ‘I thought you’d—simply gone.’ Now, why had she said that? Cat wondered with vexation. It sounded really needy. And that was the last impression she wanted to convey.

      ‘No,’ he said. ‘That was never part of the plan. As you should know by now. I merely thought it would be more discreet if I had breakfast in the restaurant, that’s all.’

      ‘Yes,’ Cat said. ‘Of course.’ She began to disentangle the bath sheet, and his hand shot out and captured her wrist.

      ‘Hey, where are you going?’

      ‘I have to get dressed,’ she said. Because it’s far too beguiling, lying in your arms like this. I could get to enjoy it far too much, and I can’t afford to do that. It’s too dangerous. ‘Besides,’ she added quickly, ‘this towel is getting clammy, and the chambermaid could come back.’

      ‘The door is locked,’ he said. ‘And I hung the “Do Not Disturb” sign outside.’

      ‘You were very sure of your welcome.’ She introduced an austere note.

      He grinned at her. ‘Not at all. Just—hopeful.’

      ‘But we can’t stay here,’ she said. ‘There’s a check-out time.’

      ‘And you have to get back to London.’ He sighed. ‘If you insist on putting your clothes on, could you walk round the room without them a couple of times? I want to check if my photographic memory still works.’

      It was ludicrous, after what had happened between them, but Cat felt herself blushing.

      She made her voice sound light as she reached for her clothing. ‘I think we both have enough memories to be going on with.’

      ‘Spoilsport.’ Liam lay back, watching her, his head pillowed on his folded arms. ‘I’m going back to London too,’ he said, after a pause. ‘Which makes it convenient.’

      ‘In