Ruthless Tycoon, Inexperienced Mistress

‘I don’t have a relationship with your brother,’ she said as soon as she was sitting on one of the mega-expensive sofas artfully arranged at an angle to the wall. The mood lighting here was even more subdued and Cesar’s face was all shadows and angles. She laughed nervously and drained the remainder of her glass. ‘I feel as though I’m being interviewed.’

‘Do you? I have no idea why. I’m just interested in finding out how you know Fernando. Where did you meet?’

‘I’m helping him work…on a project…’ Jude’s brief had been simply to promote Freddy’s new-found gravitas and work with him in convincing his brother that he could make a success of his venture.

‘What project?’ Cesar frowned. As far as he knew, his brother hadn’t been near any projects, at least not since his school days, when they had involved felt-tip pens and maps.

‘He might want to tell you that himself,’ Jude said vaguely, and he sat forward, leaning towards her with his elbows resting lightly on his thighs. Six foot two inches of pure threat.

‘Look, I came here to have a serious talk with Fernando about his future. Instead, I find myself in a bar, surrounded by people I have no desire to meet and now treated to some mysterious nonsense about a project Fernando hasn’t mentioned to me. What work, exactly, are you doing on this so- called project?’

‘I’m not sure I like your tone of voice!’

‘And I’m not sure I like whatever game it is you’re playing. How long have you known Fernando?’

‘Nearly a year.’

‘Nearly a year. And how close have you become in that time?’

‘Where are you going with this?’

‘Let’s just say that I may not see a great deal of my brother, but I know the way he operates and long-standing platonic friendships with the opposite sex have never been high on his agenda. He’s always liked his women willing, able and bedded. He’s also always been predictable in his preferences. Blonde, busty, leggy and lightweight in the brains department. So where do you fit in?’

Jude felt outraged colour seep into her cheeks and she took a few deep breaths to gather herself. In the silence, Cesar continued remorselessly, ‘If he’s spoken to you about me, then you are clearly more than just a business acquaintance…’ He invested that with thinly veiled scepticism. ‘So what exactly, are you, then?’

Saved by the bell. Or rather, saved by Freddy, who appeared with drinks on a tray. Cesar watched her expression of relief. He was taking in everything, from that quick look that passed between them to the way his brother leaned towards her and whispered something in her ear, something to which she shook her head and removed herself just as soon as she feasibly could. He lazily watched her departing back, allowing his eyes to rest briefly on the movement of her rear. She might look like a boy but there was something unconsciously sexy and graceful about the way she walked. He’d get back to her later. Something was going on. He could feel it, and he wasn’t going to let up until he got to the bottom of it. But, for the moment, he would bide his time.

Watch and wait. A very good motto, he had always maintained and he stuck to it as the predictable round of introductions began and he was treated to a suspiciously normal group of people. Where were the bimbos? The pampered young men with their idle, vapid conversation and roving eyes? Disconcertingly, everyone here this evening seemed intent on discussing investments with him.

By the end of the evening he found that he was almost enjoying the mystery.

Outside, the snow was now falling much harder. Amidst the throng of people dashing out to their cars, which were parked in a designated area at the back of the building, unlike his which was skewed at an angle at the front, Cesar spotted Jude wrapping a long scarf around her neck and stuffing her hands into her pockets. The lights had been turned on in the foyer and he could see her properly now. Her short hair was streaked with auburn and her face was not at all boyish. The opposite. Long, dark lashes fringed widely spaced brown eyes and her mouth was full and lush, at odds with the gamine appearance.

Fernando may have always had a soft spot for the obvious but who was to say how a gold-digger could be packaged? The more subtle, in a way, could be all the more deadly.

And there she was again, talking in a fast, low undertone to his brother. Talking about what?

‘I hadn’t planned on staying the night,’ Cesar said to his brother, barging in on their conversation, which came to an abrupt halt. He wasn’t looking at her but he could feel her eyes on him and mentally he flexed his muscles, intrigued at whatever was stirring beneath the surface.

‘Ah.’ Freddy smiled apologetically. ‘There’s an excellent hotel in the city…’

Cesar frowned. ‘Don’t you have a house locally?’

‘Well. Apartment, in actual fact. Pretty small…’

Cesar glanced across at Jude, whose eyes were studiously averted, and his mouth tightened a fraction.

‘It’s snowing pretty heavily,’ Cesar said bluntly, ‘and I have no intention of driving around in circles looking for somewhere to stay. What’s the name of the hotel?’

‘Name of the hotel…’ Freddy glanced quickly at Jude, who sighed in resignation.

‘I have a phone book at my place,’ she said grudgingly. ‘If you drop me home, I can reserve a room for you.’

‘Drop you home? How did you get here?’

‘I came with Freddy.’

‘Did you now…’ Cesar murmured. He smiled and inclined his head to one side. ‘Well, that sounds like an offer I’m in no position to refuse… And tomorrow, Fernando…we need to have a little chat…’

‘Of course, big brother!’ He slapped him warmly on the back and gave him a semblance of a hug, which came naturally to neither of them.

Cesar, accustomed as he was to a stilted relationship with his brother, nevertheless felt a twinge of genuine regret at the lack of real warmth between them. The loss of their parents when he had only just been out of his teens should have brought them closer together. Instead, it had done the opposite. With the mantle of the family’s empire resting heavily on his shoulders, Cesar wondered if he had failed in his main duty as a brother—to love him. He had had to don his responsibilities quickly and he had been impatient with Freddy’s lack of ambition which he had seen as weakness. He shoved aside the irksome thoughts—he’d worked hard to provide a stable and secure life for his brother. He’d done his best.

‘My car’s out at the front.’

‘Why didn’t you use the car park at the rear?’

‘Because, believe it or not, I was inclined to think I had arrived at the wrong address when I got here. I never suspected that the place was functional or that there was a parking area at the back.’

Freddy beamed. ‘Clever, isn’t it? We can discuss all of that tomorrow.’ He was already backing away and Jude eyed Cesar warily. The last thing she wanted was to be cooped up in a car with him, go back to her house with him, but she had no choice. Freddy couldn’t possibly take him back to the apartment—not with Imogen there.

Just thinking of that little secret by omission made her flush guiltily. Imogen should have been at the little party tonight. She was, after all, the key player in the game, but Freddy had insisted that she be kept out of sight. At least for the moment. Having met Cesar, Jude could understand why, because Cesar was a man in whom suspicion was deeply embedded. She could sense it in his conversation, which had been a thin cover- up for a cross examination. One look at Imogen, her long blonde hair, her big blue eyes and her legs that went on for ever, and Freddy’s trust fund would have been written off for good. The fact that she was nearly seven months pregnant with Freddy’s baby would have brought on cardiac arrest.

‘We could just drive into the city,’ Jude said once inside the car, which was as comfortable as any of those wildly overpriced sofas Freddy had insisted on buying for the club. She glanced worriedly at the snow, which was falling thickly white. ‘I don’t live a million miles from here but my place is down some narrow country lanes and this car might not make it.’

‘This car,’ Cesar informed her, reversing and swinging the car in the right direction, ‘is equipped to cope with anything.’

‘Anything except snow in Kent in the middle of January. For that, you really need something a bit more robust. These sorts of fashion cars might be all right for London but they’re rubbish out in the country.’

Cesar gave her a look of pure incredulity but she was frowning out of the window, busily trying to work out how fast he could reasonably travel without ending up in a ditch.

She directed him out to the main street which, at a little past one in the morning with the snow pelting down, was deserted. It took a ridiculously long time to clear the city, then came a series of winding country lanes, each one more treacherous than the last.

‘How the hell do you make out in these sorts of conditions?’ Cesar muttered under his breath, every ounce of concentration focused on getting them to her house in one piece.

‘I have a four-wheel drive,’ Jude admitted. ‘It’s old but it’s pretty reliable and it can get through just about anything.’

‘As opposed to this fashion statement I drive.’ He glanced over at her, then back at the road.

‘I could never afford a car like this in a million years. Not that I’d ever want one. I don’t see the point of them.’

‘It’s called comfort.’ Cesar realised that he didn’t know the first thing about her. What job did she have? Aside from helping his brother on some so-called project, which could be anything from doing his accounts to colour coordinating his wardrobe. He would need to find out more about her to ascertain what her motives were. For the moment, however, he was too preoccupied with controlling his car in these conditions for too much detailed questioning and, as he rounded a corner at a snail’s pace, he began to wonder how he was going to find his way back into the civilised roads of the city and the comfort of a hotel room.

‘I would choose practicality over comfort any day of the week.’

‘I gathered as much from your choice of clothing tonight.’

‘Meaning what?’