The Rich Man's Royal Mistress

‘I will not,’ she returned, furious yet wondering whether he was jealous. Or overly possessive. ‘I was about to refuse him myself. And this is the second time you’ve gone over my head.’

Silence burned between them, taut and filled with unspoken emotions. All she could think of was that if only she’d known he was coming she’d have worn clothes that suited the occasion. Festival gear, she thought with a touch of hysteria, because skyrockets were exploding in the pit of her stomach and she was sure she could hear fairy music—dangerous, seductive, wildly irresistible—in her ears.

Hawke didn’t pretend not to understand what she was referring to. ‘At Shipwreck Bay I consulted the manager before I asked you to dinner because I thought you might have been working again that night,’ he said coolly. ‘As for today—you’re perfectly correct, I had no right to answer for you. I’m sorry.’

‘I should think so.’ She angled her chin at him. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I met the whole family—mother, father, sister and husband as well as Jorge, plus two sweet little girls—late this morning and had lunch with them all. What are you doing here?’

This time both straight brows went up. In a voice that held more than a little impatience he said, ‘I came here because you’re here. Why the devil did you leave Shipwreck Bay?’

A car started up with a series of minor explosions that effectively killed the fairy music. Woodenly Melissa said, ‘I told you I was due to leave at the end of the week.’

‘And I told you I’d be back.’ He frowned down at her. ‘Why didn’t you wait?’

‘You didn’t ask me to, which was another assumption,’ she said, much more calmly than she felt. Anticipation pierced her, and an exhilarating pleasure. ‘How did you find me?’

Narrow-eyed, he said harshly, ‘If you hadn’t booked this place through Shipwreck Bay Lodge I might not have.’

‘I know that judicious amounts of money, carefully targeted, can buy almost anyone, but I’d have thought the staff at the Bay would show some loyalty.’

He gave a short, mirthless laugh. ‘They did. I own Shipwreck Bay.’

Stunned, she said, ‘You what?’

‘I thought you knew.’

‘No.’ She drew in a sharp breath, wondering why it was important to convince him of that. ‘No,’ she repeated, ‘I didn’t know.’

Did he believe her? Or did he think she’d wanted him to run after her as some kind of sick, thoughtless ploy to keep him interested? It was impossible to tell from his expression; he was an expert at hiding his thoughts and his emotions.

And what, she wondered feverishly, did he want from her? She didn’t even know how to ask. If only she had some idea of how this game between the sexes was played.

Without thinking, she blurted, ‘Do you own this one too?’

‘No.’ He gave her an edged smile that reinforced the flinty note in his voice. ‘I have a house a few kilometres away. Is Northland living up to your expectations?’

‘It’s glorious.’ She sent him a sideways glance and finished demurely, ‘But I suppose you prefer the mountains.’

Hawke wondered if she had any idea just how provocative he found those occasional slanting glances—the flash of topaz fire between the thick lashes, and the tiny smile that accompanied each one.