Runaway Mistress Read Free Page A

wife’s instability, he’d give her something amazing, reminding her that he was worth every hour of her time. His gift to her last year had been a condo on the beach, and she was weakened by her love for it. Even with her growing savings accounts, it was way out of her league.
    However, life could be lonely. Working in a business that catered to Nick, and having a flexible schedule so she could be at his beck and call didn’t make the other women in the office particularly friendly. But then, she’d always been a loner. She knew what they said about her, but she was no slut. There had only been a scant few men in her life since she was a teen, and she never dated more than one man at a time. Never.
    These were the thoughts that were running through Jennifer’s mind as she made her way through the crowds of people in the hotel on her way back to the room. The MGM was putting them up in a suite that was part of a private wing known as the Mansion. Very prestigious surroundings, complete with a crew of chefs, valets and real butlers. She’d been there several times with him—he considered her good luck—and true to form, he’d been winning, which made him fun and frisky. It was very easy to get used to living in high style like this, but she didn’t take it for granted. She knew how quickly such fortunes could shift—just as she’d had rough times with her mom, she’d had a few high times. They never lasted very long, but she remembered them fondly.
    When she reached their suite she quietly opened the door and was instantly taken aback by shouting.
    “I don’t ask your permission for anything! I’m here for poker, and if I’d wanted you and all your bitching here, I’d have brought you!”
    That was Nick. She peeked in and made eye contact with “butler” number one, Lou. Lou was a mountain of a man. He stood in the foyer, his back to the sitting room, arms crossed over his chest.
    “You can’t just bring your bimbo to Vegas and toss me to the sharks in Palm Beach while you’re here screwing around. They’ll eat me alive!”
    Uh-oh. That would be Mrs. Nick.
    “I’m here for poker! I can screw around in Florida! ”
    “Everyone knows you left me at home while you brought that whore to Vegas!”
    Jennifer stiffened indignantly. She took exception. At the very least, the pot was speaking of the kettle.
    “Why you worrying about what everyone else thinks? You got your big house, your big rings. You don’t play second fiddle. You got your masseuse. ”
    “Oh, you have such a dirty mind! Maurice is gay! ” And with that there was a crash. She was throwing things. It was time to give her some space.
    Jennifer backed quietly out of the room, gently pulling the door closed. She went downstairs to a quiet bar, sat at a corner booth and ordered a foamy margarita. She sipped it very slowly, killing time. She’d give Nick and his spouse time to work through this tiff. If she ended up with her own room and a first-class ticket back to Fort Lauderdale, it wouldn’t be the first time. It was no big deal.
    “Hey, sweetheart.” She looked up into the deep brown eyes of a rather handsome and well-dressed man. “Buy you a drink?”
    “Thank you, no. I’m waiting for someone. He’ll be along soon.”
    One corner of his mouth lifted in a mocking smile. “Blow him off,” he suggested.
    She placed both her hands on the table, fingers splayed, roughly sixty thousand dollars’ worth of gems glittering on her fingers and wrist. “Oh, I don’t think so. I really don’t think so,” she said sweetly with her positively shattering smile. He was dismissed.
    She knew better than to flirt or lead men on. For one thing, Nick wouldn’t stand for it. More than that, she’d seen plenty of women get themselves in serious trouble biting the hand that fed them. Not to mention the number she’d seen take a dive because they were stupid enough to fall hopelessly in love and believe everything they were told.
    Jennifer had