The Unexpected Mistress

‘In what way isn’t he strong?’ he asked quietly.

‘Every way,’ she muttered, measuring out flour carelessly. ‘Cassian, you know what it’s like to be uprooted from somewhere familiar. You loved the narrow boat where you lived with your mother before you came here after her marriage, and you loathed Thrushton—’

‘Not the house itself, or the countryside,’ he corrected, wondering what she’d say if he brushed away the dusting of flour on her nose and cheeks. It made her look cute and appealing and he didn’t want that. It was very distracting. ‘Just the atmosphere. The stifling rules,’ he said, miraculously keeping track of the conversation.

‘Well, moving is traumatic, especially when you’re a child. Can’t you put yourself in Adam’s place and see how awful it would be for him to leave the place of his birth?’ she implored, pushing away her hair with the back of her hand. ‘Making friends is hard for him. He’d find it a nightmare settling into another school.’

‘Life’s tough. Children need to be challenged,’ he said softly. He passed her a coffee.

‘Challenged?!’ She flung in the flour haphazardly and began to fold it into the cake mixture as if declaring war on it. ‘He’s sensitive. It would destroy him!’ she cried, her face aflame with desperation.

‘Here. That’ll turn into a rugby ball if you’re not careful. Let me.’

He took the bowl from her shaking hands, combined the flour and the abused mixture with a metal spoon then scooped it all into a cake tin. Gently he slid the tin into the baking oven and checked the clock.

She stood in helpless misery, her hands constantly twisting together.

‘Thanks,’ she mumbled.

‘You say your son is sensitive,’ he mused. ‘Is he happy where he is at school now?’

She frowned. ‘N-no—’

‘Well, then!’

‘But another one could be worse—!’

‘Or better.’

‘I doubt it. He’d be such a bag of nerves that he’d turn up on his first day with “victim” written all over his face,’ she wailed. Her eyes were haunted. ‘You can’t do this to my child! I love him! He’s everything I have!’

His guts twisted and he had to wait before he could speak.

‘And you? How will you feel, living elsewhere?’

His voice had suddenly softened, caressing her gently. She drew in a sharp breath and shuddered with horror.

‘I can’t bear to think of going,’ she mumbled pitifully. ‘I love every inch of this house. I know it, and the garden, the village, the hills and the dales, as well as I know the back of my hand. There’s no lovelier place on God’s earth. My heart is here. Tear me away,’ she said, her voice shaking with passion, ‘and you rip out a part of me!’

‘I’m sorry that you will both find it hard,’ he said curtly. ‘But…there it is. That’s life. One door closes, another one opens.’

Laura gasped at his callousness. It was as she feared. He was determined on his course of action. She turned away as tears rushed up, choking her. Her hands gripped the back of a chair for support as she imagined Adam facing a new playground, new teachers, new, more intimidating bullies…

‘All right, Cassian!’ She whirled back in a fury. ‘You open and close all the doors you want—I’m staying put!’

He smiled faintly and his slow and thorough gaze swept her from head to toe.

‘Flour on your face,’ he murmured.

Before she knew it, his fingers were lightly travelling over her skin while she gazed into his lazily smiling eyes, eyes so dark and liquid that she felt she was melting into a warm Mediterranean sea.

By accident, his caressing fingers touched her mouth. And instantly something seared through her like a heated lance, tightening every nerve she possessed and sending an electric charge into her system.

She struggled to focus, to forget the terrible effect he was having on her. He was throwing her out. Going gooey-eyed wouldn’t help her at all. Rot him—was he doing this deliberately? Her eyes blazed with anger.

‘If you want me to go, you’ll have to get the removal men to carry me out!’ she flung wildly.

‘No need. I’d carry you out myself. I don’t think it would be beyond my capabilities,’ he mused.

In a split second she saw herself in his arms, helpless, at his mercy…‘Touch me and you’ll regret it!’ she spat, thoroughly uncomfortable with her treacherous feelings.

‘Yes,’ he agreed slowly, apparently fascinated by her parted lips and her accelerated breathing. ‘I think I might.’ Equally slowly, a dazzling grin spread across his face. It was at once wicked and beguiling and made Laura’s stomach contract. ‘But,’ he drawled, ‘that wouldn’t stop me from doing so.’

She blinked in confusion. There were undercurrents here she didn’t understand. Somehow she broke the spell that had kept her eyes locked to his and she looked around desperately for a diversion.

‘I’d fight you!’ she muttered.

‘Mmm. Then I’d have to hold you very, very tightly, wouldn’t I?’ he purred.

Her throat dried. Almost without realising, she began to tidy the dresser, despite the fact she was so agitated that she kept knocking things over.

Cassian came up behind her. Although there had been no sound, she knew he was near because the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her spine tingled. Sure enough, his hand reached out, covering hers where it rested on a figurine she’d toppled.

‘You’ll break something,’ he chided, his breath whispering warm and soft over her ear, like a summer breeze in the valley.

‘I don’t give a toss!’ she jerked out stupidly, snatching her hand away.

He caught the flying figure deftly and set it on the dresser. His arm was whipcord strong, his hands big but with surprisingly long, delicate fingers.

‘Laura, surrender. You can’t fight the inevitable.’

She blinked, her huge eyes fixed on his neatly manicured nails. Her body was in turmoil and she didn’t know why. It was her head that ought to be in frantic disarray.

She should be panicking about her eviction. Instead, she was finding herself totally transfixed by his breathing, the cottony smell of his T-shirt, the accompanying warm maleness…

Oh, help me, someone! she groaned inwardly, trying to gather her wits.

‘It can’t be inevitable! Have pity on us!’ she whispered.

‘I am. That’s why I’m chucking you out. And when I do, would you like a fireman’s lift, or something more conventional?’ he murmured in amusement, turning her to face him.

Laura’s knees weren’t functioning properly. She wobbled and he steadied her. He was incredibly close, his smooth, tanned face sympathetic and kind. It didn’t make sense. But his gentle smile broke her resistance. For a terrible, shaming instant, she was horribly tempted to reach up and kiss that inviting mouth so that the tingling of her own lips could be assuaged.

Her eyes widened at her temerity. This was madness! Where were her inhibitions when she needed them? She’d never felt like this. Never had such an overwhelming urge to abandon what was decent and proper and to submit to physical temptations!

It was a relief that he couldn’t know how she felt. The unguarded, unwanted and definitely unhinged response of her own body shocked her. It felt as if she was glowing. Erotic sensations were centred in places where he shouldn’t have reached. It was awful. Like finding she enjoyed sin.

Shame brought high colour to her cheeks. A terrible thought flashed through her mind. Perhaps she was a slut. Perhaps her mother had been… No! Her hand flew to her mouth in horror, dismayed where his casual behaviour had taken her.