His Mistress for a Million

She almost had the impression he hadn’t heard her as he headed for a sideboard, opening a crystal decanter and pouring himself a slug of the amber fluid it contained. ‘You?’ he offered.

She shook her head. ‘Well? You told me I had a cleaning job at some hotel.’

Still he took his sweet time, taking a sip from the glass before turning and leaning against the dresser. ‘While it’s not exactly what I said, it is what I intimated. That much is true.’

‘You lied to me!’

‘I did not lie. I found you a job cleaning at another hotel. And then I decided better of it.’

‘But why? What for?’

He drained the glass of its contents and placed it on the dresser in the same motion as he pushed himself towards her. ‘What if I offered you a better job? More pay. Enough to buy your return ticket to Australia and a whole lot more. Enough to set you up for life.’

She licked her lips. If she could pay back her nanna what she’d borrowed…But what would she be expected to do to get it? ‘What kind of job are you talking about?’

He laughed, coming closer. ‘You see why I knew you would be perfect? Any other woman would ask how much money first.’

She sidestepped around the dining table, until it was between them. ‘That was my next question.’

He stopped and started moving the other way, slowly circling, step by step. ‘How much would be enough? One hundred thousand pounds? How much would that be in your currency?’

She swallowed, too distracted to concentrate on keeping her distance. Her maths might be lousy but even she had no trouble working that one out. Double at least. Her mouth almost watered at the prospect. But she’d heard plenty of stories about travellers being offered amazing amounts of money to courier a box or a package. And equally she’d heard of them getting caught by the authorities and much, much worse. She might have done some stupid things in her life, but she was so not going there. ‘I don’t want any part of drug money. I’m not touching it.’

He was closer than she realised, his dark eyes shining hard. ‘Cleo, please, you do not realise how much you insult me. This would be nothing to do with drugs. I hate that filthy trade as much as you. I assure you, your work would be legal and perfectly above board.’