Memoirs of a Millionaire's Mistress

‘That’s my girl.’ He smiled back, his thumbs massaging the sensitive place where shoulder met torso as he pulled her flush against his hard, lean body. ‘Goodnight again, Veronica.’

And leaning down he pressed a firm, open-mouthed kiss on Didi’s surprised mouth. His tongue slid across the seam, coaxing her to open, dipping inside when her jaw dropped. Just a tantalising taste, an appetiser, and oh…it felt…good. But she couldn’t allow herself to enjoy it—this was an act, a show. A skilfully executed piece of theatre for her sister’s benefit.

She could feel Veronica’s stunned gaze. Didi was no less than one hundred and ten per cent stunned herself. Her nipples rasped against the towel, making them throb as he shifted his body for a better fit. Don’t be fooled—this isn’t real.

‘If you’re sure…’ Veronica’s voice seemed to float at the edge of Didi’s consciousness.

‘She’s very sure,’ Cameron muttered against her mouth.

A moment later Didi heard the swish of her sister’s gown and her bedroom door clicked shut. Releasing her arms as suddenly as he’d taken her, he stepped back, withdrawing the warmth of his body with him. But while he’d put physical distance between them, the intensity of his gaze completely possessed her.

A shaft of heat knifed through her. Could he be…turned on by a ten-second performance?

His eyes didn’t leave hers as he strode to the door, kicked it shut. Her damp skin prickled in the draught he’d created. As he approached her he shrugged out of his suit jacket, let it fall where it would. Yanked off his tie, tossed it behind him. Undid the buttons of his cuffs.

What did he intend? Isn’t it obvious? a tiny voice whispered. A shiver of doubt snuck through the heat. Her fingers crept over the top of her towel, needing to keep herself secure, protected. ‘Um…thanks…’ She flicked a finger, couldn’t manage the hand. ‘For…that.’

He didn’t reply. He just kept coming, like an approaching storm, big and dark and all-powerful, making her feel insignificant, a fugitive with no place to hide.

His hands curled over hers on the towel, knuckles rough against the swell of her still-throbbing breasts and his eyes turned molten, lightning on cobalt.

‘What was that about needing me, Didi?’

CHAPTER SEVEN

DIDI’S breath snagged mid-chest. She gulped in air. ‘I said…we…both needed one another…’ Oh, cripes…with Cameron’s hands covering hers covering her breasts and his gaze hotter than hell’s kitchen that did not come out sounding the way she’d intended. ‘I mean I think we need to discuss…I nee—have to explain…’

Her words—indeed her entire brain function—seized up as he lowered his head again. ‘Tell you what, why don’t you shut up for a bit?’

His breath feathered across her brow, her cheeks. She could smell fresh winter rain on his clothes, the foresty scent of his aftershave. As if her head were being manipulated by some invisible puppeteer, it tilted up, her lips opening of their own volition. Waiting, trembling…

She had a glimpse of eyes, dark and bright with purpose, a frown of concentration—or was it something else?—between heavily lowered brows before his mouth met hers once more and her eyes slid shut.

This time his tongue didn’t linger around the edges of her mouth, it delved inside, seeking, exploring, finding hers. His flavour filled her mouth. She already knew how he tasted but this was more. Now she experienced, not only the flavours of peppermint and coffee, but the exhilarating essence of desire that slid like sun-warmed silk over her tongue, her teeth, inside her lower lip.

His hands left hers to better hold her head, to whisk his fingers over cheeks and jaw, leaving her own hands free to touch his shirt, absorb its crisp feel against her fingertips. To feel the steel muscles of his stomach tighten as she flattened then curled her hands against him.

To feel the quickened tempo of his breathing, his chest expanding as his hands left her head to slide over her shoulders, the shh as they shimmied over the towel, warmth from his palms stroking her, lower, lower. Her limbs turned to jelly, her brain liquefied and she felt herself dissolving against him. Total meltdown…

He lifted his head the tiniest bit. ‘Do you need me, Didi?’ he murmured, seduction oozing from the words.

She heard herself murmur something unintelligible back. Was that her voice all deep and drowsy and detached, as if it came from somewhere outside her?

‘Do you need me to touch you…’ she jolted, her hands whipping back to hug the security of her towel when she felt his fingers curl under the hem to touch the bare flesh of her thigh ‘…here?’