The Mistress Contract
‘No way.’ This was the Conrad she could fight, the imperious, overbearing, lordly tycoon who thought he only had to speak and the world listened. ‘I pay the rent.’
‘Okay, I’m willing to compromise. You pay the month’s rent,’ he agreed smoothly.
She stared at him uncertainly. Somehow she had agreed to a month’s holiday and she wasn’t quite sure how. ‘Conrad—’
As they both heard the downstairs door open, followed by a ‘Yoohoo! It’s only me!’ Conrad’s eyebrows rose mockingly.
‘Mother hen?’ he murmured silkily as he rose to his feet.
How could you love someone and hate them at the same time? ‘Conrad, we have to discuss this,’ she said a trifle desperately.
‘No time.’ And then he had pulled her into him roughly, kissing her hard and hungrily for a heart-stopping moment before he let her go, a second before Maisie breezed into the room.
‘Hallo, Maisie,’ he said easily, the mocking expression intensifying as he took in the look of absolute amazement on Maisie’s face. ‘How nice to see you again.’
‘You… How did you—’
‘Sephy will explain,’ he said smoothly. ‘By the way, she’s going away for a few weeks the day after tomorrow. Help her pack, there’s a good girl, and a taxi will be here at eight on Wednesday morning.’
‘Conrad, I need to know about everything,’ Sephy said flusteredly, her face flushed and the feel of his mouth still burning her lips. ‘I have to get plane tickets and—’
‘All taken care of.’ And as she started to protest his eyes narrowed and he said warningly, ‘I told you, Sephy, I want to do this and I don’t do things by half. You should know that by now. Madge will phone you tonight and give you all the details; all you have to do is to get well enough to travel on Wednesday. Your passport is up to date?’ he asked suddenly, as the thought struck him.
‘Yes, but—’
‘Good.’ He turned briefly to Maisie, who for once was speechless, her startlingly mauve eyes blinking helplessly and the plate of sandwiches she had brought in wobbling precariously in her limp hand. ‘I’ll see myself out,’ he said with silky politeness. ‘You take care of your…chick.’
And then he was gone, leaving the two girls staring at each other as the sound of his footsteps on the stairs outside faded into the street.
CHAPTER TEN
PARADISE. This was one place which was paradise on earth and she wished with all her heart she didn’t have to leave it tomorrow.
Sephy stretched on the sun lounger and reached for her sunglasses before sitting up and looking out over the glittering blue water of Conrad’s Olympic-size swimming pool.
She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms round them and feeling a dart of pleasure at the smooth, golden-brown intensity of her tan.
From the first day she had arrived in Northern Italy the weather had been wonderful, day after gloriously sunny day turning her golden brown and highlighting her hair with shades of chestnut and dark auburn, and now she was as brown as Daniella.
She had been surprised to find Conrad’s niece waiting for her at the airport when she had emerged from a luxurious first-class plane ride; Madge had merely said she would be met by a member of Conrad’s Italian family but that was all. However, it had emerged that Enrico’s time at the London hotel was finished and Conrad was setting the couple up with their own restaurant in their hometown, much to the delight of Daniella, who had apparently been homesick for Italy.
And Sephy had soon been able to understand why. She hadn’t realised that the country held such vast contrasts; golden, powdery beaches and azure seas, rolling hillsides and magnificent mountain ranges, enchanting valleys and rich meadows where swathed figures still herded animals with tiny bell necklaces, small picturesque villages which hadn’t changed in hundreds of years and great modern bustling towns where it seemed as though every other car was a Ferrari—Daniella had shown her it all.
Conrad’s villa, set high in wooded hills above the town where his relatives lived, was an old mansion he had had completely refurbished when he had decided to buy the dignified, crumbling, graceful old residence. And Sephy had fallen in love with it the moment she had seen it.
Mellow, honey-coloured old stone, arched leaded windows, exquisite wrought-iron balconies cascading with bougainvillaea of vibrant red and mauve, all topped by a rich terracotta-tiled roof—the house had it all. It was surrounded by beautifully landscaped gardens, sheltered by massive oak trees and cypress, and with the huge swimming pool and orchards at the back of the house the grounds were extensive.
An old Italian couple—distant relatives of Daniella’s father—kept house for Conrad and resided in a large, spacious flat above the row of garages converted from the original stables, and a gardener and a cleaning lady who lived in the town visited on a daily basis.
Sephy had been amazed Conrad had never mentioned the villa in all the months she had known him, but when she had said as much to Daniella the Italian girl had shrugged extravagantly in true Latin style before saying, ‘Conrad, he like to keep it separate, si? He very private man, very independent. This different.’
At Sephy’s puzzled look, Daniella had continued, ‘He never bring no one here from outside, from his other life. Not ever, si? This is where he is himself, I think.’
‘He’s brought me.’
‘Si.’ Daniella had looked at her oddly then, her nut-brown eyes slanting above finely moulded cheekbones. ‘Si, he bring you, Sephy.’
Sephy had wondered, at first, if Conrad would visit whilst she was staying, but as day had followed day and then week had followed week she’d realised he intended to keep to his word and remain in England. However, he’d made a point of phoning her every night at the same time without fail.