To Claim His Mistress. Sara Craven

head.

      Liam studied her, brows slightly raised. ‘You don’t object to that, I hope?’

      She said slowly, ‘You don’t know where I live.’

      ‘But I’m relying on you to tell me,’ he said. ‘Address, telephone, fax, e-mail, date of birth, favourite flower—every last detail that you wouldn’t tell me last night.’

      She touched dry lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I—I don’t think I want to do that.’

      Liam threw off his share of the towel and stretched indolently, making her sharply aware of every lean, suntanned inch of him. ‘Then I shall have to rely on my powers of persuasion.’ He held out his hand, his smile wickedly enticing, making the breath catch in her throat. ‘Come here, darling—please.’ His voice was husky.

      She felt her pulses begin to race. Experienced the first stirrings of that delicious melting sensation all over again.

      Realised how much she wanted to do as he asked—how desperately she ached to go to him and allow herself to be drawn down into his arms.

      Into his arms and into the trap, she reminded herself with sudden force. Lured there by the possibility—the dream of a shared future.

      Forgetting how starkly the past twenty-four hours had demonstrated how the dream could turn to nightmare. The harsh evidence from her own family circle.

      You begin as strangers, she thought, then you allow yourself to be seduced—confused by passion into believing that this time it will be different—eternal. But when passion dies you’re strangers again, with all the hurt and bitterness that implies. And the loneliness.

      The image of Aunt Susan sitting alone, a silent statue amongst the post-wedding clutter, came into her mind. And for some reason that odd expression on her father’s face as he watched her mother catch Belinda’s bouquet. Even Belinda, putting a brave face on the humiliation she’d suffered on what was supposed to be her great day.

      ‘Cat?’ Liam was sitting up, his brows drawn together in a frown. ‘Cat—what is it? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

      ‘Do I?’ She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Liam—there’s something I have to say.’

      His frown deepened. ‘My sweet, if you’re about to tell me that you’re married after all, then you’ve chosen a seriously bad moment.’

      ‘No,’ she said. ‘No, of course I’m not married. I told you yesterday that doesn’t feature in my plans—now or ever.’

      ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We both talked a lot of nonsense yesterday. But that was then. Last night changed everything. It had to. You must know that too.’

      ‘Perhaps,’ she said. ‘But not in the way you think.’ She paused. ‘What are your plans for the rest of the day—as a matter of interest?’

      ‘Nothing very extraordinary.’ The grey-green eyes were suddenly searching. ‘We both have our own cars, so I thought on the way back to London we could meet up in Richmond. There’s a good place to eat by the river.’

      ‘And afterwards?’

      Liam shrugged. ‘We could go for a walk in the park. Talk to each other. Start getting properly acquainted. Unless, of course, you have a better suggestion?’ he added levelly.

      ‘Maybe not better.’ She shrugged. ‘Just—different.’

      There was a silence, then Liam swung himself off the bed. ‘You got dressed to have this conversation,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m starting to think I should do the same.’

      He walked over to the chair where his discarded clothes were piled and began to pull them on. It didn’t take long. He faced her in faded khaki pants, which closely hugged his lean hips and long legs, and a black V-necked sweater in thin wool, his bare feet thrust into loafers.

      He said, unsmilingly, ‘So—what’s on your mind?’

      Her whole body clenched in yearning as she looked at him. She swallowed.

      ‘I need you to know that everything that’s happened between us has been—wonderful,’ she began. ‘Last night was unbelievable—the most exciting of my entire life.’

      Liam leaned a shoulder against the wall. ‘Thank you,’ he said. His eyes were guarded—watchful. ‘I think. For what it’s worth, I found it totally amazing too. And unforgettable.’ He paused. ‘But if you’re now about to tell me that this—brief encounter of ours is all there is to it,’ he went on grimly, ‘that you’ve decided for some reason to lock me out of Paradise, then I have to warn you, lady, that you’ve got a fight on your hands.’

      ‘No,’ she said. ‘That’s not what I mean at all. More than anything I want to go on seeing you.’

      ‘I’d like to feel encouraged by that,’ he said slowly. ‘But somehow I can’t. I wonder why?’

      Cat decided to ignore that. She said, ‘Do you want to know why I found our time together so exciting?’

      ‘I thought it might be because we clearly wanted each other so desperately,’ he said. He shrugged a shoulder. ‘But what do I know?’

      ‘And because it was so unexpected,’ she said eagerly. ‘So—overwhelming. We met—we made love.’

      ‘I don’t recall it being quite that simple,’ Liam said drily. ‘But go on.’

      ‘One of the things that made it special was that we knew so little about each other. We weren’t bogged down in a lot of extraneous detail. We both knew what we wanted, and we went for it. It added an extra dimension—a kind of danger. Because we were free.’ She paused, giving his expressionless face an anxious look. ‘You must have felt that too.’

      ‘I think I was probably too sexually enthralled to dwell much on the philosophical ramifications,’ Liam drawled. ‘It’s a man thing. But I’m still listening.’

      Cat was shaking inside suddenly, but she threw her head back with an assumption of confidence. ‘I don’t want to lose that excitement—that edge.’

      ‘You feel that could happen? You’re threatened by the prospect of lunch in Richmond?’ His smile did not reach his eyes.

      ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think it’s a risk if we get involved in things like that. In walks and talks and theatre trips. In meeting each other’s friends and all the usual banal stuff.’

      ‘I don’t consider my friends banal,’ he said. ‘I can’t, of course, speak for yours, but I’d have thought it unlikely.’

      Cat gestured impatiently. ‘That was just an illustration.’ She paused. ‘But do you see what I’m getting at?’

      ‘I’m not sure,’ Liam said slowly. ‘At least, I hope I’m not. Maybe you should be more specific.’

      She took a very deep breath. ‘I want to go on seeing you. I want us to be lovers, just as we’ve been here. Meeting on completely neutral territory. Not asking any questions or imposing any obligations. Just—enjoying each other.’

      He turned and looked out of the window. He was very still, but Cat could sense the tension in him like a coiled spring.

      ‘And then parting?’

      ‘Well, yes,’ she admitted lamely. ‘Until the next time.’

      ‘So,’ he said. ‘That’s all you want from me? Sex in a series of hotel rooms just like this? Paid for by the hour?’

      ‘No,’ Cat denied swiftly. ‘It’s far more than that. Something completely separate from our everyday selves, and infinitely special. A private affair with a secret lover. Knowing each other’s names, but nothing else. Passion without commitment.’ She paused, wishing she didn’t have to speak to his taut back. ‘Doesn’t that