Memoirs of a Millionaire's Mistress

Cam excused himself from the table and caught up with her as she exited a few moments later. She stopped short when she saw him.

The sheen of moisture in her eyes damn near killed him. ‘What’s wrong?’

She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

So she wasn’t going to talk. ‘I’ve had enough,’ he said. ‘How about you? You want to skip dessert?’

She gave a half-nod. ‘But you’ve spent so much money…’

‘I don’t give a flying fig about the money.’ He took her hand, rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. ‘We can splurge on that ice cream in the freezer if you want. We’ll grab your coat and escape before anyone else sees us.’

‘Cameron…Is that what this is all about?’ she asked in a small voice.

He frowned and kept walking, tugging her along beside him. ‘Is what what this is all about?’

‘You don’t want anyone to see us together?’

‘No, I don’t.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘I just want to go home.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

DIDI hugged her arms as they rode home. Even in her new wool coat she felt cold. Cameron had openly admitted he didn’t want to be seen with her. She might look the part tonight but he knew it wasn’t the real deal. Unlike that glamorous woman she’d seen on his arm in the magazine.

How could she hope to measure up to that poise and sophistication? Once again she didn’t fit. She’d never fit in with the rich crowd. Up on that stage she’d been linked with him publicly and all he’d done was frown.

She’d fallen in love with a man who didn’t love her.

Yes, she was in love, time to admit it. When was she going to learn? When was she going to stop letting her heart be broken?

‘Would you like that ice cream?’ he asked as they entered the apartment. ‘Or coffee?’

She kept walking, her stilettos clacking over the marble. ‘No, thanks. I’m going to bed.’

All she wanted to do was scrub the gunk off her face, strip out of the dress and hide under the quilt. Alone. But time was running out. Very soon she would be alone. Permanently. Because she’d never let this happen again. She closed the en-suite door, kicked off her shoes and reached for her make-up remover.

When she opened the door ten minutes later Cameron was sitting on the edge of the turned-down bed, his shirt unbuttoned, his feet bare. Waiting for her. Yes, he wanted her in the bedroom, just not in public.

His gaze tracked her progress, but it wasn’t the look of a man who only wanted sex. For a moment he looked as if he really cared in a deeper, more intimate way.

And it hurt. Because now it seemed she was only seeing what she wanted to see. She’d lost the ability to be objective. And damn it all, she was going to give him what he wanted, because she wanted it too. For the next few nights she’d take what they could make together and store the memories in her heart.

‘Didi.’ He rose and came to her, touched her cheek with such tenderness she wanted to weep. She let him unzip her dress, tug the straps over her shoulders. It fell to the floor with a soft flutter of air. The blunt tips of his fingers fumbled at her back as he unclasped her bra, drew it away. Then her black lace panties as his palms slipped beneath the elastic and tugged. Over her hips, down her thighs.

Fast or slow, he made love-making an art. With one flick of his finger, one brush of his lips, he knew how to tease and arouse, how to soothe and seduce.

‘This is how I want you,’ he murmured, tracing a damp path down her body from neck to navel with light nips, fleeting open-mouthed kisses. ‘No cosmetics to conceal your inner glow, nothing to hide your naked beauty. Just Didi.’

He knelt before her, his eyes following the path his mouth had taken while his palms massaged slow circles over her hips. The diamond he’d given her burned into the flesh above her breasts as if he’d set it alight with his gaze and she knew then that she’d never take it off.

The lump in her throat made it impossible to speak. She needed to remember his words were just that—words. To pretend they didn’t flow into her heart, filling it until it felt ready to burst.

To not let her imagination leap ahead to happy-ever-afters as he lifted her against his hard warm body and laid her back on the fine cotton sheets.

To not notice how his heart thudded against hers as if they beat as one when he stretched out beside her.

His hands were big, his fingers roughened, but he handled her as if she were made of the most fragile glass. Somehow his trousers were gone, his satin-steel erection sliding hotly against the soft flesh of her belly as he eased on top of her.

His mouth covered hers. He drank her in and reason ebbed away, longing flowed in. He tasted of rich dark wine and spice and summer. But summer was impossibly far away and out of reach so she reached instead for the arms that held her, curled her hands around his rock-hard strength and thought only of the moment.