Jack had been right when he’d said it was a good thing that she hadn’t married Daryl. It was. He would have been a horrible husband, and she a pathetic wife. His betrayal still hurt when she thought about it. But not as much as it had. Perhaps because she didn’t think about it as much any more.
‘You’re thinking about Daryl, aren’t you?’ Marion said intuitively from where she was still sitting at the kitchen table.
Vivienne turned from the sink and looked over at her friend. ‘Who?’ she said with brilliant nonchalance.
Marion laughed. ‘Now, that’s a step in the right direction.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JACK JUMPED OUT of his Porsche at twenty past seven, annoyed that he was late picking up Vivienne. He hated being late, especially tonight. But one couldn’t always control the traffic. He hoped she wouldn’t be angry with him.
Her smiling face when she opened the door was reassuring.
‘You’re late,’ she chided him. But gently.
‘There was a breakdown on the bridge,’ he explained. ‘Sorry.’
‘No need to apologise. I understand. I’ll just get my purse and lock up.’
Perversely, Jack felt irritated by her casual acceptance of his tardiness. If she’d been looking forward to tonight as much as he was, she would have been more upset. But of course, she wasn’t emotionally involved with him, was she? He was just a male body to her. A bed partner with whom she could play erotic games. She didn’t want to be his girlfriend. She preferred the role of mistress. It was stupid of him to want more from her when it was obvious she was incapable of giving him more at this time in her life. He should just take what he could get and, when the time came, walk away.
Clenching his teeth hard in his jaw, Jack determined to treat her the way she wanted to be treated—as nothing more than a sex object. A plaything. His own personal Penthouse Pet. There would be no pity for her. Or mercy.
Which meant dinner would definitely not be lingered over. He wanted her back in his bed as soon as possible.
So, as she walked back down the hallway towards him, he let his eyes travel slowly over her from top to toe, not bothering to hide his lecherous intent. She hadn’t obeyed his command not to dress sexily, he noted, which puzzled him slightly. If she didn’t want anyone to guess at the true nature of their relationship, she should have worn something less...provocative.
Her dress was purple, a wrap-around, figure-hugging style which showed off her hourglass shape in a way which did little to dampen his desire for her. Her hair was up, but in a softly sexy style, with tendrils hanging around her lovely face. She was wearing more eye make-up than usual, making her green eyes look huge. As for her glossed lips...they looked downright wicked. And then there were the earrings, long crystal drops which drew the eye down to her impressive cleavage.
‘I told you not to wear anything sexy,’ he said brusquely once she was close enough to touch.
She shrugged her slender shoulders. ‘I decided a mistress wouldn’t go out with her lover looking dreary.’
‘True,’ he said, and without asking her permission swept her into his arms and kissed her.
Vivienne only resisted for a second or two, and then only because of shock at his sudden move. This was what she wanted, after all—to be in his arms again. To feel the heat of his flesh pressed hard against hers. And his body was hard. Hard all over.
Soon, she didn’t even want to go to dinner. If he’d pushed her back inside and into her bedroom, she would not have objected.
If only she hadn’t dropped her keys onto the wooden floorboards.
His head lifted abruptly at the clattering sound, giving her a wry look before bending down to pick them up. Vivienne clenched the offending hands as she tried to regain control over herself. Her face felt hot and her whole body was in danger of imminent meltdown. She could not speak. Could hardly think. After straightening, he took a closer look at her and smiled a smile which she couldn’t fathom. Was it amusement curving his lips? Or some strange kind of satisfaction?
‘I’ll lock up for you,’ he said.
She just stared at him, her head slowly clearing from the fog of passion which had been clouding her normally sharp brain. Not for the first time, she wondered why Jack aroused her so easily to a level of lust which was both overpowering and overwhelming. One kiss and she was his again. Instantly. Being his beck-and-call girl was never going to present a problem. Because she wanted to do everything with him, and for him.