Memoirs of a Millionaire's Mistress

‘Good morning,’ he murmured.

Had she ever woken to a more mouth-watering sight than that of Cameron sporting nothing but morning stubble and a smile? ‘Good morning.’

Morning. The feeling of well-being faded and tension grabbed at her belly. Their little whatever-it-was was over and now she’d have to live under his roof—and his gaze—and endure the consequences of what they’d done. And there was still the problem of Veronica.

Suddenly all too aware of her nakedness, she dragged the quilt up to her chin, then, shoving a hand through what must look like porcupine hair, she sat up. ‘What time is it?’

‘Six-thirty.’ He played with the ends of her bed hair and there was a twinkle in his eye when he said, ‘We have a few things to discuss, Fairybread.’

‘I was going to get to that. Fairy bread?’

‘You know, buttered and covered in sprinkles and cut into tri—’

‘I know what it is—what I don’t know is why you called me that.’

‘Because it’s pretty—’ he kissed her nose ‘—it tastes sweet—’ he moved lower to nuzzle her neck ‘—and it was the best I could think of at short notice. We need to get our story straight before we face the dragon lady.’

She saw his amusement sober as he shifted away creating a space between them, but her mouth was dry and she needed a moment to gather her thoughts. ‘Any chance of a coffee?’

‘No. For all we know, your sister could be prowling the apartment looking for evidence to put me away.’

‘More like she wants to catch me out,’ Didi said. ‘She knows this isn’t real.’

His brows rose and something intimate crossed his expression. ‘After that performance last night?’

Her cheeks heated. That was just it—it was only a performance. As for the rest…how he’d taken her to heights she’d never been…she couldn’t think about that now.

‘Why would she want to catch you out, Didi?’ he asked quietly.

‘My family…’ She steepled her hands at her lips. She wished she could put on a robe, anything to cover her vulnerability, but she couldn’t bring herself to climb out of bed naked. ‘My parents are…well off, my older sister’s married to a…’ pompous ass ‘…wealthy owner of a string of luxury yachts.

‘I never fitted in. You’ve seen my sister—tall, elegant, poised, sophisticated. Like my parents. They despaired of me right from the start. They wanted me to take piano lessons and study multiple languages. I wanted to use Mum’s silk brocade curtains to make clothes, learn origami and study art.

‘When I finished school I spent a couple of years overseas. But when I came back my parents said if I didn’t go to uni I was on my own. So I found a boarding house on the cheap side of the city and got a job in a café. I took casual employment for the next couple of years, including stocking supermarket shelves and kitchen hand.’

‘And somewhere along the way you met this guy who messed you up.’

She sighed, staring at the ceiling. ‘I thought he was serious. Turned out there was someone else—that there’d always been that someone else. Which is why I don’t want a serious relationship ever again.’

There had been too many painful memories of her broken heart and humiliation in Sydney. ‘I decided to come to Melbourne to make a fresh start, so I told my parents I’d got a job in an exclusive gallery with a luxury apartment to boot.’

His chest hair rasped against her shoulder as he slid an arm around her in wordless support.

‘She’s just come to gloat. I couldn’t let her. I just couldn’t. Not when I saw an opportunity. I’m sorry I went behind your back.’

He dropped a kiss on her head. ‘I’ve got a strong back. How do you want to play it today?’

‘Keep up the charade that we’re…involved—’

‘Lovers,’ he reminded her. ‘And it’s not a charade. Not any more.’

‘Until she leaves this afternoon,’ she finished, her cheeks heating as her body reminded her in all kinds of ways of the fact that, no, it hadn’t been a charade.

She felt him shift again, then he tilted her face to his. In his eyes something flickered and sent her pulse scrambling. ‘Didi, how do you feel about extending this arrangement a little longer? Say, two and a half weeks?’

‘What do you mean?’ She tried to keep her voice even, her expression neutral.

But she knew what he meant and blood pounded through her veins. A ball of fire lodged behind her breastbone, shooting flares up and down the length of her body.