Mistress at a Price Read Free Page B

‘ Have dinner with me tonight, and I ’ ll not only rescue your footwear, Cinderella, but I ’ ll also resist the temptation to dump you on your charming backside in the mud. ’

    Her arm tightened round his neck in pure alarm. ‘ You wouldn ’ t dare. ’

    He allowed her to slip — just a fraction — and she gasped, half in panic and half at the increased intimacy of the contact, aware that her dress had ridden up round her thighs and that he knew it too.

    ‘ Well? ’ he said. ‘ Is it a deal? ’

    She was silent for a moment, her mind churning. Then, ‘ I suppose so, ’ she muttered.

    ‘ I ’ ve had more gracious acceptances. ’ There was a touch of wryness in his tone. ‘ But I guess I ’ ll have to settle for what I can get — for now, at least. ’ He paused. ‘ Shall we say eight o ’ clock? They should have finished removing the bodies from the Banqueting Suite by then. ’

    Cat flushed, setting her mouth. ‘ I did ask you to forget what I said. ’

    ‘ Impossible, ’ he said. ‘ But I will try not to refer to it again. ’

    ‘ Thank you. ’ She hesitated. ‘ You ’ re quite sure that you want to eat here? ’ She was genuinely surprised at the suggestion. The Anscote Manor Hotel was quietly luxurious, and it had a fine reputation for its food — with prices to match.

    ‘ You think they ’ ll refuse to serve me? ’ He shook his head. ‘ They ’ re quite democratic. There won ’ t be a problem. ’

    Perhaps they even offered discount to staff, Cat thought, although it seemed unlikely on a busy summer evening. But if they were refused entry it would let her off the hook.

    ‘ Very well, ’ she acknowledged tonelessly. ‘ Eight it is, then. ’

    He carried her to a patch of dry grass and set her down, then went back for her shoes. He knelt, freeing each heel with great gentleness, then produced a handkerchief from his hip pocket and wiped them both carefully.

    He brought them to her. ‘ Give me your foot, ’ he directed, sinking down on to one knee, and mutely she obeyed, resting a hand momentarily on his shoulder as he fitted the sandals back on for her. Finding, as she did so, that she was fighting an impulse to let her fingers stray over the crispness of his dark hair, or inside the collar of his shirt, and explore the taut muscularity of his shoulders. Feeling a strange trembling weakness stir deep inside her.

    Oh , God , she told herself in a silent whisper. I cannot — cannot allow this to happen …

    ‘ There, ’ he said. ‘ As good as new. ’

    ‘ Thank you, ’ Cat said, pulling herself together with an effort. ‘ But that ’ s more than can be said for those jeans — or your handkerchief. ’ She regarded the glistening muddy streaks on both items with disfavour. ‘ You ’ d better have them laundered and send me the bill. ’

    ‘ You pay for your clothes, ’ he reminded her. ‘ I pay for my own laundry. But it was a kind thought. ’

    ‘ Yes — well. ’ She offered him a swift, meaningless smile. ‘ I ’ ll — see you later. ’

    ‘ You can count on it. ’ He paused. ‘ But I think we ’ ve forgotten something. I don ’ t know your name. You don ’ t know mine. ’

    ‘ Is it strictly necessary? ’ she asked with spurious brightness. ‘ After all — ships that pass in the night and all that. ’ She shrugged. ‘ It might even be — more exciting not to know. ’

    ‘ Well, we all have our own separate ideas of excitement, ’ he said with a touch of dryness. ‘ But I ’ d still like to know what you ’ re called. ’

    ‘ Then it ’ s Catherine, ’ she said reluctantly. ‘ But I ’ m always known as Cat. ’

    His brows lifted. ‘ Not Cathy — or Kate? ’

    ‘ Absolutely not. It ’ s because of the story. ’ She shrugged again. ‘ Someone once told me I was like The Cat That Walked By Itself . ’

    ‘ I wonder if that ’ s true. ’ He looked back at her, half frowning. ‘ I suppose you have a surname as