Catherine George - The Millionaires Rebellious Mistress

She heaved in an unsteady breath, trying to tamp down the heat his expert, hungry mouth had sent surging through her entire body. You dont want that anymore?

Yes, of course I do. But I have a problem.

What?

The way you look tonight, any normal guy would want to be more than just your friend, Sarah. But dont worry, he said softly. Ill stick to the rules.

What rules?

Yoursfriendship with the enemy, but no sleeping with him.

~ MISTRESS BRIDES ~

A LEXANDER M ERRICK achieved the vice-chairmanship of the Merrick Group before he was thirty, but no one who worked for him was in the slightest doubt that his appointment was due to ability rather than nepotism. They soon found he ran as tight a ship as his father and his grandfather before him, but with a more humanist approach. He had made it clear from day one that the door of his top floor corner office would always be open to any member of staff with a problem, and this particular morning he sat back, ready to listen, when his assistant came in looking gloomy.

Whats up, Greg? Girlfriend stand you up last night?

No, Alex. Not long out of college, Greg Harris still got a buzz from being on first-name terms with his dynamic young boss. I just had a phone call. Bad news. Our bid was unsuccessful.

What? Alex Merrick shot upright. So who the hell got them?

I dont know that yet. Greg cleared his throat. I asked mymy friend to let me know the result of the sealed bid right away, as a personal favour, which is why Im ahead of the game, but no other details yet.

Alex swore volubly. It must be some local builder with friends in high places. Hell probably demolish the Medlar Farm cottages and build God knows what in their place He broke off, eyeing his assistant speculatively. Is your friend a girl?

Greg nodded, flushing.

Alex gave him the crooked smile that few people could resist. Excellent. Take her out to dinner; charm her into finding out who got the bid. Ill pay.

T HE VIEW of the sunset over sweeping lawns and tree-fringed lake was so perfect the dining room could have been part of a film set.

Sarahs escort smiled at her in satisfaction. You obviously approve of my choice, darling?

Of course. Who wouldnt? But she was surprised by it. Oliver normally wined and dined her in more conservative restaurants, where the cuisine was less haute than Easthope Court. Is this a special occasion?

His eyes slid away. Lets leave explanations until later. Our meal is on its way.

The waiter set Sarahs entre in front of her, and with a hint of flourish removed the cover from an offering of such culinary art she looked at the plate in awe, not sure whether she should eat it or frame it. But instead of sharing that with someone who took his food as seriously as Oliver, she asked about his latest triumph in court.

Sarah listened attentively as she ate, made appropriate comments at intervals, but at last laid down her knife and fork, defeated. Artistic creation or not, the meal was so substantial she couldnt finish it.

You didnt care for the lobster? asked Oliver anxiously.

It was lovely, but I ate too much of that gorgeous bread before it arrived.

He beckoned a waiter over. Choose a pudding, then, while I excuse myself for a moment. Cheese as usual for me, Sarah.

She gave the order and sat back, eyeing her surroundings with interest. The other women presentsome young, others notwere dressed with varying success in red-carpet-type couture, but their male escorts were largely on the mature side. Though a younger man at table nearby caught her eye, if only because his head of thick, glossy hair stood out like a bronze helmet among his balding male companions. He raised his glass in smiling toast, and Sarah looked away, flushing, as Oliver rejoined her.

So what are we celebrating? she demanded, as he began on a wedge of Stilton.

Now, you must always remember, Sarah, he began, that I have your best interests at heart.

Her heart sank. Go on.

Oliver reached out a hand to touch hers. Sweetheart, theres a vacancy coming up in my chambers next month. Make me happy; give up this obsession of yours and take the job. With your logical brain Im sure youd enjoy legal work.

Sarahs colour, already high, rose a notch. You mean you brought me here just to pitch the same old story? Oliver, I love you very much, she said with complete truth, and I know you care about me, but you really must let me live my life my own way.

But I just cant believe its the right way! Oliver sat back, defeated. I hate to think of you messing about with plaster and paint all day in that slum you bought.

Oliver, she said patiently, its what I do. Its what I know how to do. And I love doing it. Id be uselessand miserableas a legal secretary, even in illustrious chambers like yours.

But youre obviously not taking care of yourself or eating properly

If you just wanted to feed me before I go back to starving in my garret you neednt have wasted money on a place like this, she informed him.

I chose somewhere special because its my birthday tomorrow, he said with dignity. I hoped youd enjoy helping me celebrate it.

Oh Oliver! Sarah felt a sharp pang of remorse. If youre trying to make me feel guilty youre succeeding. Im sorry. But I cant take the job. Not even to celebrate your birthday.

He nodded, resigned. Ah, well, it was worth a try. We wont let it spoil our evening. Thank you for the witty birthday card, by the way, but you shouldnt have bought a present.

Didnt you like the cravat?

Of course I liked it. But it was much too expensive

Nothing too good for my one and only godfather!

Oliver smiled fondly. Thats so sweet of you, darling, and of course Ill wear it with pride. But you need to watch your pennies. He leaned nearer and touched her hand. You do know, Sarah, that if youre in need of any kind you only have to ask.

Thank you, Oliver, of course I do. But shed have to be in dire straits before she would.