More than a Mistress

Alex swallowed dryly. The balance of power had just shifted but she didn't know how, or why. She watched as Travis stood up, grabbed his black T-shirt and put it on. He turned to the mirror over her dresser, ran his hands through his hair as casually as if he were in his own bedroom, then looked at her and smiled. She thought it was a smile, anyway.

"Here we are, two grown-up people." Still smiling, he zipped his jeans, tucked his thumbs into the belt loops and sauntered toward her. "Both of us well over the age of consent. Isn't that right, Princess?"

She wanted to move back before he reached her. That smile worried her. So did the way he was moving, like a big cat that knew it had finally cornered its prey. But she'd had enough of being humiliated by Travis Baron to last a lifetime. She was damned if she'd permit him to do it again.

"Yes," she said coolly, keeping her eyes on his. "It's absolutely right. I'm glad you see it that way."

"Why, Princess, what other way could I see it?" He came to a stop only inches away, close enough so she had to tip her head back to keep meeting his cold green gaze. "I mean, let's just look at how things stand." His smile tilted and the look in his eyes grew even more stony. "It isn't as if I was payin' a social call, Alex. We both know that: You bought me for a purpose-and I delivered."

She could feel herself beginning to tremble. Don't, she told herself furiously, oh, don't let him see that he's starting to frighten you.

"I damn well did deliver, didn't I, Princess?" Travis's tone changed, became as rock-hard as his eyes. "And now you're tired of playing with the hired help."

"I have—I have a dinner appointment," Alex said, trying for some dignity.

"A dinner appointment." His teeth flashed in a cold smile. "Now, isn't that nice?"

"Yes. And—and my date's coming to pick me up soon. So you'd better—"

"Is that a threat, Princess?" The smile glittered again. He put one hand on the wall beside her head and leaned toward her. "Let me give you some advice, Ms. Thorpe." His voice was low and ominous. "Where I come from, nobody's fool enough to buy a stud horse without first checkin' his pedigree. "

"I want you out of my house this minute!"

"Playing this kind of game with a strange man could have turned out to be the worst nightmare you ever had." His voice was silky with malice. He shifted his weight and, despite her best intentions, she stumbled back a step. "You don't know me, or what turns me on. I could have done anything I wanted. Beaten you. Bruised you. Left you lying in a pool of your own blood."

"You're trying to frighten me. And I don't like it."

"Oh, I think you do. I think maybe that's what turns you on." She flinched as he encircled her throat with his hand. Her pulse was racing; she felt it jerk beneath his thumb. "A little hint of danger. Knowin' that the guy you lure into your bed might as easily finish you as—"

"Get out," Alex said furiously, "just get the hell out of my house!"

"I intend to. I wouldn't want to keep you from your date." His gaze dropped to her mouth as he touched his thumb over her bottom lip and slid it along the soft crescent. "But first, I'm making you a promise."

The words were softly spoken, touched not with malevolence but with something Alex sensed was far more dangerous, something that made her pulse quicken.

"Travis," she said quickly, "you don't understand—"

"I do, Princess. Oh, I do, believe me." His hand slid into her hair, cupped her nape. Gently, inexorably, he tipped her face to his. "I just want to be sure you understand, as well."

"Understand what?" she said in a shaky whisper.

"This," he said, and crushed her mouth beneath his.

Alex struggled against him. She told herself that, later, assured herself that she put up some kind of resistance...

It was just that it didn't last.

She moaned, caught the fabric of his shirt in her hands, opened her mouth to his and gave herself up to the kiss. He swept his arms around her and gathered her into his embrace, lifted her into the cradle of his hips, rocked her against his hardness.

It was like being swept up in a firestorm. There was no time to think, no wondering what was right and what was wrong. She was on fire and the flames were burning too hot, too fast, to contain.

Travis's mouth clung to hers as he tore open her robe, dragged it off her shoulders and let it puddle at her feet. He shaped her breasts with his hands, then skimmed his palms down her hips and clasped her bottom. Still kissing her, he lifted her to him again.

"Please," she said brokenly. "Oh, Travis, please..."