The Magnate's Mistress

Max was not a man who smiled a lot. Mostly, his lips remained firmly shut, his penetrating blue eyes glittering with a hardness which Tara found sexy, but which she imagined could be forbidding, especially when he was annoyed, or angry. Tara suspected he could be a formidable boss, if crossed. She’d heard him a few times over the phone when he’d been laying down the law to various employees.

But with her, he was never really annoyed, or angry. He had been frustrated that time when she’d kissed him in public. And exasperated when she refused to let him buy her a car. But that was it.

Tara knew that when he finally caught sight of her standing there, waiting for him, he would smile.

And suddenly, it was there, that slow curve to his lips, that softer gleam in his eyes, and it was all she could do not to run to him and throw herself into his arms. Instead, she stayed right where she was, smiling her joy back at him whilst he walked slowly towards her.

‘For a few seconds, I thought you weren’t here,’ he said once they were standing face to face.

‘I almost wasn’t,’ she confessed. ‘I was running horribly late. You should have seen me a minute ago, trying to bolt across the car park in these shoes.’

He glanced down at the offending shoes, then slowly let his eyes run up her body. By the time his gaze reached her mouth, her lips had gone bone-dry.

‘Are you sure it was the shoes, or those wicked white trousers? How on earth did you get them on? You must have had them sewn on.’

‘They’re stretchy.’

His eyes glittered in that sexy way she adored. ‘Thank the lord for that. I had visions of spending half the night getting them off you. You know, you really shouldn’t wear gear like that to greet me when we’ve been apart for nearly a month. It does terrible things to me.’

‘I thought you liked me to dress sexily,’ she said, piqued that he hadn’t bothered to ask her why she was late. It occurred to her with a degree of shock that maybe he didn’t care.

‘That depends on how long I’ve been away. Thank goodness you’re wearing a bra.’

‘But I’m not.’

He stared at her chest, then up at her mouth. ‘I wish you hadn’t told me that,’ he muttered.

‘For pity’s sake, Max, is there no pleasing you today?’

‘You please me all the time,’ he returned thickly, and putting his laptop down, he actually reached out to stroke a tender hand down her cheek. If that didn’t stun her, his next action did.

He kissed her, his hand sliding down and around under her hair, cupping the back of her neck whilst his mouth branded hers with purpose and passion.

The kiss must have lasted a full minute, leaving Tara weak-kneed with desire and flushed with embarrassment. For people were definitely staring at them.

‘Max!’ she protested huskily when his hand then slid down her shirt over her right breast.

‘That’s what you get for meeting me in those screw-me shoes,’ he whispered.

When Tara gaped at him, Max laughed.

‘You little hypocrite. You deliberately dressed to tease me today, and then you pretend to be shocked when you get the reaction you wanted. Here. Give me my car keys and take this,’ he ordered and handed her the laptop. ‘I want one hand free to keep you in line, you bad girl.’

Tara’s cheeks continued to burn as she was ushered from the terminal with Max’s hand firmly clamped to her bejeaned backside. Her head was fairly whirling with mixed messages and emotions.

In all the times she had picked Max up at the airport, he had never made her feel like this. As if sex was the only thing on his mind, and on hers. And whilst she was flustered by this change in behaviour—could her mother have been right about Max just using her for sex?—she was also undeniably turned on.

Neither of them said a single word till they were standing by the Mercedes and Max had put his things into the boot.

‘Fifteen minutes,’ Max said as he slammed the boot shut and turned to her.

‘What?’

By then she was hot all over, not just her cheeks.

‘Fifteen minutes,’ Max repeated. ‘That’s how long till we’re alone. I suspect it’s going to be the longest fifteen minutes of my life.’ His eyes ran all over her again, finally lingering on her mouth. ‘If I kiss you again, I won’t be able to wait. I’ll ravage you in the back seat of this car and to hell with everything.’

Tara wasn’t sure if she liked this beastlike Max as much as the civilised one she was used to. But she suspected that if he kissed her again, she wouldn’t care if he ravaged her on the back seat.

In fact, she was already imagining him doing just that, and it sent her head spinning.

Just then, a couple of young fellows walked by and one of them ogled her before pursing his lips in a mock kiss. When he turned to his mate and said something, they both laughed.

Tara cringed.

‘Then please don’t kiss me,’ she choked out.

Max, who hadn’t seen this exchange, shook his head at her. ‘Still playing the tease? That’s a new one for you, Tara. What’s happened to the sweet, naive, extremely innocent virgin I met a year ago?’

‘She’s been sleeping with you for a year,’ she countered, stung by his inference that this change today was all hers.

His eyes darkened. ‘Do I detect a degree of dissatisfaction in those words? Is that why you were late today? Because you were thinking of not coming to pick me up at all?’

‘So glad that you finally cared enough to ask why I was late!’ she snapped. ‘For your information, I had words with my mother and then I missed my train.’

Did he look relieved? She couldn’t be sure. Max was not an easy man to read.

‘What was the argument about?’

‘You.’

That surprised him. ‘What about me?’

‘Mum thinks you’re just using me.’

‘And what do you think?’

‘I told her you loved me.’

‘I do.’

Tara’s heart lurched at his words. Do you, Max? Do you, really?

‘If you truly loved me,’ she pointed out agitatedly, ‘then you wouldn’t talk about ravaging me in the back seat of a car in a public car park.’

He seemed startled, before a thoughtful frown gathered on his high forehead. ‘I see the way your mind is working, but you’re wrong. And so was I. You’re not a tease, or a hypocrite. You’re still the incurable romantic you always were. But that’s all right. That’s what I love about you. Come along, then, princess. Let’s get you home, where we can dive into our lovely four-poster bed and make beautiful romantic love all weekend long.’

‘Do we have a whole weekend this time, Max?’ Tara asked eagerly, relieved that the threat of being publicly ravaged in the back seat of Max’s car had been averted.