Stand-In Mistress

‘Then please, do stay.’

‘Thank you, I’d like to.’ She made no attempt to hide the eagerness.

‘Would you care for a drink while you look at the menu? Champagne, perhaps?’

The glass of wine she had drunk earlier, combined with all the emotional turmoil, had made her feel strangely light-headed, but she managed a smile, and agreed, ‘That would be lovely.’

He signalled the wine waiter and gave the order.

Within moments, the man was back with a bottle of the finest champagne in an ice bucket. Having gently twirled the bottle for a moment or two, he removed the wiring, eased out the cork, and poured the smoking wine into two flutes, before departing soft-footed.

Joanne was watching the bubbles rise, when her companion raised his glass and, his eyes smiling into hers, said softly, ‘Here’s to an exciting evening.’

She smiled back, and took a cautious sip. With a bit of luck he would get more excitement than he’d bargained for!

CHAPTER TWO

PLAYING for time, Joanne sipped her champagne and scanned the menu for as long as she dared, before choosing a melon starter and a main course of avocado and prawns.

The order given, Brad Lancing fixed her with his handsome eyes, and asked, ‘By the way, as your sister’s spokeswoman, can you tell me if she still intends to go on this Norwegian trip?’

Caught wrong-footed, Joanne hesitated, then said lamely, ‘Well, I think she’d like to.’

Picking up on that uncertainty, he explained, ‘You see, there’s not much time. I have two seats booked on a plane that leaves Heathrow at lunch time, and if your sister is likely to be still tied up with…your auntie I shall need to find myself another secretary.’

And one who was willing to be his bed-companion, no doubt, Joanne thought sourly.

Hoping to give him as much trouble as possible, she assured him, ‘I’m quite sure Milly won’t want to let you down.’

Recklessly, she added, ‘And if by any chance she can’t come, I might even volunteer for the post myself!’

A devilish gleam in his eye, he refilled her glass and said, ‘I might hold you to that. But you’d need to come prepared. The nights can get pretty chilly.’

‘Oh, I’m sure I could cope.’

‘Have you much experience?’

Loathing both him and the double entendre, she gave him a come-hither look and cooed, ‘Oh, yes, lots.’

‘Where are you working now?’ 23

Reluctant to provide too much personal information, she said briefly, ‘Optima Business Services.’

‘Owned by Steven Winslow.’

It was a statement not a question, but she answered, ‘That’s right.’

Brad Lancing seemed to know a great deal. But perhaps Milly had told him?

‘So you act as your brother’s secretary?’ he pursued evenly.

‘I’ve been Steve’s personal assistant for over five years.’

Reacting to her tone, he said, ‘I see.’ Then, a challenge in his voice, ‘And are you a good PA?’

‘If I wasn’t I wouldn’t have kept the job. Neither of us believes in nepotism.’

As soon as the words were out it struck her that she had been replying as herself, rather than the kind of woman she was pretending to be.

Giving him a flirtatious glance, she said in her best girly voice, ‘But I’m not very interesting…I’d much rather talk about you, Mr Lancing.’

His firm mouth twitched. ‘Won’t you call me Brad?’

‘I’d love to, if you call me Joanne.’

‘It will be my pleasure.’

Taking a sip of her champagne, she smiled at him over the rim of the glass. Then, recalling something Milly had once said, she leaned towards him and murmured in a husky voice, ‘I’ve always found handsome, powerful men like you a real turn-on.’

The ‘like you’ was her own contribution.

An expression that might have been amusement flitted across his face, making her wonder if she was overdoing it, but it was gone in an instant, and she decided it must have been self-satisfaction.

Someone as vain and egotistical as he undoubtedly was would lap up any amount of flattery.

He must have been looking forward to a romantic evening with a girl who thought he was wonderful, and being a womaniser, he would no doubt have seduction on his mind.

Well, let him believe she was a pushover. The shock would be all the greater when he discovered that instead of the sex kitten he was hoping for, she was a cat with claws.

For the next hour or so, while they ate what turned out to be a very good meal, Joanne flirted with him shamelessly. Hanging on his every word, she touched his sleeve from time to time and occasionally let her foot nudge his under the table.

Avoiding questions about herself as much as possible, she made an effort to keep the conversation centred on him.

It proved to be harder than she had anticipated.

Most men, even the nicest ones, were usually happy to keep their egos inflated by talking about themselves, but Brad Lancing, while prepared to discuss the business scene, seemed unwilling to divulge anything remotely personal.

Perhaps he was married after all?

If he was, she pitied his poor wife.

‘I suppose you must travel an awful lot?’ Joanne enquired as the waiter brought the liqueur coffees Brad had ordered.

‘Not as much as I used to. These days I only travel if I believe my presence is really essential.’

‘Your wife must be pleased about that,’ she remarked idly, taking a sip of her coffee.

Those green eyes pinned her, making her go oddly fluttery. ‘I’m not married,’ he told her coolly, ‘nor have I ever been remotely tempted to put my head in the silken noose.’