His Convenient Mistress Read Free Page A

these types and look where that had got her.
    It was only after an inordinately long time that she realised that the man was watching her watching him, his expression cool, calculating and utterly unruffled by her curiosity. Irritating, considering that he was on her property.
    â€˜Yes?’ she asked, not moving, her hands still shading her face from the glare of the sun. ‘May I help you?’
    â€˜Now, that’s a big question,’ the man drawled, slamming his car door and walking lazily towards her.
    He was at least six feet three, Sara realised a little nervously. He towered over her in a way few men did. She was five-ten in bare feet and quite used to looking down on a great number of the men she had come into contact with over the years. There was also something a little scary about him. Was it the way he moved? Or his eyes? Deep blue, she could see now that he was closer, and strangely contained.
    â€˜Who are you and what do you want?’ Sara demanded quickly, realising for the first time just how isolated this damned Rectory was.
    Jumpy, James thought now that he had got over his astonishment at seeing the net-twitching spinster in the flesh. She was nothing like what he had expected. What the hell was a woman like this one doing out here? Themild curiosity he had experienced during the drive to the Rectory had crystallised into something pleasurably invigorating.
    Jumpy and defensive. Why? Shouldn’t she be flinging out the welcome mat and hustling to make tea for the friendly local visitor who had come to make her feel right at home and show her how warm her neighbours could be?
    â€˜So you’re the new girl in town,’ James drawled when he was finally standing in front of her. ‘You picked the best month to move up here, I must say. June is usually kind. Lots of sun and blue skies.’
    His blue eyes never left her face. Sara could feel his inspection and it was an uninvited intrusion into her space.
    â€˜You haven’t told me your name,’ she said flatly, edging slightly so that she was positioned in front of the kitchen door, making it quite clear that there was no automatic invitation to step inside.
    â€˜Nor have you told me yours. And I’m James Dalgleish.’ He extended his hand and Sara found hers enclosed in long, strong fingers.
    â€˜Sara King.’ She pulled her hand politely free and resisted the urge to massage it.
    â€˜Freddie’s…niece perhaps?’
    â€˜That’s right.’
    â€˜Funny, he never mentioned having any relatives,’ James said thoughtfully, ‘and I certainly don’t recall any coming to visit.’ He gave her a smile that didn’t quite conceal the lazy challenge that seemed implicit in his comment.
    Sara flushed and remained silently uncooperative. Did he, she wondered, think that she was some kind of opportunist? Would that be the general reaction of everyone in the town who had probably been discussing her furiouslywhile she had holed herself up in her house and spent her time trying to work out why on earth she had come to this far-flung place?
    â€˜Mum!’
    Her head whipped around at Simon’s shout.
    â€˜My son,’ she said, by way of explanation.
    â€˜You’re married?’
    â€˜No.’ She heard the scramble of footsteps heading towards the kitchen and gave a little sigh of irritation at her visitor, who continued to stand with implacable resolve by the door. ‘Look, I’m rather busy at the moment.’
    â€˜I’m sure you are. Moving house is always a headache.’ James watched as she raised one slender hand and pushed some flyaway red hair away from her face. ‘You need to sit and relax. I’ll make you a cup of coffee.’
    â€˜I—’
    â€˜Mum, I’m thirsty. Can you come and see my garage?’
    â€˜This is Simon,’ Sara introduced reluctantly as her five-year-old son appeared next to her and proceeded to stare