Читать книгу It Started With One Night: The Magnate's Mistress / His Bride for One Night / Master of Her Virtue - Miranda Lee - Страница 13

‘I’M BEING punished for last night,’ Tara groaned.

‘You’ve just got a hangover,’ Max reassured her, sitting down on the side of the bed and stroking her hair back from her forehead. ‘You must have had too much champagne.’

‘I’ll never touch the stuff again,’ Tara said, not sure which was worse. Her headache or her swirling stomach.

‘Pity,’ Max said with a wry smile. ‘You really were very cooperative.’

‘Don’t remind me.’

Max laughed. ‘I’ll get you a couple of painkillers and a glass of water.’

Max disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Tara with her misery and her memories of the night before. Impossible to forget what she had allowed. Ridiculous to pretend that she hadn’t thrilled to it all.

Tara groaned, then groaned again. She was going to be sick.

Her dash to the bathroom was desperate, shoving Max out of the way. She just had time to hold her hair back and out of the way before everything came up that she’d eaten the night before. It came up and came up till she was left exhausted and shaken. 84

It’s just a hangover, she told herself as Max helped her over to the basin, where she rinsed out her mouth and washed her face. Or the same virus I had yesterday morning. I couldn’t possibly be pregnant. Mum put that silly thought into my head. And it is silly. I had a period, for pity’s sake.

‘Poor darling,’ Max comforted as he carried her back to bed and placed her still naked body gently inside the sheets. When she started shivering he covered her up with a quilt and tucked it around her. ‘No point taking any tablets if you’re throwing up. I’ll go get you that glass of water. And a cool washer to put on your forehead. That helps sometimes. Take it from one who knows. I’ve had a few dreadful hangovers in my time. Still, you must be extra-susceptible to champagne, because you didn’t have that much. I think I had the major share. And we wasted a bit. On you.’

‘Don’t remind me about that, either,’ she said wretchedly. ‘Could you dispose of that disgusting champagne bottle? I don’t want to look at it.’

‘Come, now, Tara, you loved it last night. All of it,’ he said as he swept the empty bottle off the bedside table and headed for the doorway. ‘But I will tolerate your morning-after sensitivities,’ he tossed over his shoulder, ‘in view of your fragile condition.’

Her fragile condition…

Tara bit her bottom lip as the question over her being sick for a second morning in a row returned to haunt her. Max was right. She hadn’t had that much champagne. Hard to pin her hopes on the gastric virus going around, either. With that, Jen and her kids had been running to use the loo all the time. Then there was her sudden recovery yesterday afternoon and evening, only for her to become nauseous again this morning.

If she hadn’t had a period recently then she would have presumed she was pregnant, as her mother had. Was it possible to have a period and still be pregnant? Tara had read of a few such cases. They weren’t proper periods, just breakthrough bleeding, mostly related to women who’d fallen pregnant whilst on the Pill. Nothing was a hundred per cent safe, except abstinence. Her mother had told her that, too.

‘Oh, God,’ she sobbed, and stuffed a hand into her mouth.

‘That bad, huh?’ Max said as he strode back into the bedroom, carrying a glass of water with some ice in it. ‘Do you want me to ring the house medico? I have one on call here at the weekends.’

‘No! No doctor.’

‘OK, OK,’ Max soothed, coming round to place the glass on the bedside table. ‘No doctor. I’m just trying to help. I don’t like seeing you this sick.’

‘What you don’t like is not having your new little sex slave on tap this morning!’

The horrible words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She saw Max’s head jerk back. Saw the shock in his eyes.

Tara was truly appalled at herself. ‘I’m sorry,’ she cried. ‘I didn’t mean that. Truly. I’m not myself this morning. I’m a terrible person when I’m sick.’ And when I’m petrified I might be pregnant.

The very thought sent her head whirling some more. She didn’t want to be pregnant. Not now. Not when Max had just asked her to travel with him. Not when her life had just become so exciting.

‘It’s all right, Tara. I understand.’

‘No, no, you don’t.’

‘I think I do. What happened yesterday. And last night. It was a case of too much too soon. I became greedy. I should have taken things more slowly with you. You might have enjoyed yourself at the time, but hindsight has a way of bringing doubts and worries. It’s good, in a way, that this morning has given us both a breather. Even if it’s not under pleasant circumstances for you.’

‘You don’t mind?’

His smile was wry. ‘Mind? Of course I mind. I’d love to be making love to you right at this moment. But I’m a patient man. I can wait till next weekend. And next time, I promise I won’t frighten you with my demands.’

‘You…you didn’t frighten me, Max.’

He stared into her eyes. ‘No? Are you sure?’

‘I’m sure. I liked everything we did together.’

He let out a sigh of relief. ‘I’m so glad to hear that. I have to confess I was a bit worried that I might have gone too far last night. Not at the time. But when I woke, this morning.’

Not as worried as she was this morning.

Max sat down beside her on the bed and started stroking her head again. ‘Still, I don’t want you to ever think you have to do anything you don’t want to do, Tara. I love you, not just having sex with you. All right?’

She nodded, but tears threatened. Max might say that now, but what if she was pregnant? Would he be so noble when faced with her having his baby? Or would he do and say things which might threaten their relationship for good?

Endless complications flooded into her mind, almost overwhelming her with fear, and feelings of impending doom.

But you don’t know you’re pregnant, she tried telling herself. You could very well be wrong.

Yes, yes, she would cling to that thought. At least till Max left. She couldn’t continue thinking and acting this way or she would surely break down and blurt out what was bothering her. And she really didn’t want to do that. Max had enough things on his mind these days without burdening him with premature news of an unconfirmed pregnancy.

No, she had to pull herself together and stop being such a panic artist. Max had a couple of hours yet before he left for the airport. Surely she could stay calm for that length of time. Why spoil the rest of his stay with negativity and pessimism? What would that achieve? He was being so sweet and understanding this morning. It wasn’t fair to take her secret fears out on him, especially when it was only a guess, and based on nothing but her feeling nauseous two mornings in a row.

Hardly conclusive proof.

‘Max…’

‘Yes?’

‘I’m feeling a bit better now. My stomach is much more settled. Do you think I should try something to eat? Maybe some toast?’

‘I think that would be an excellent idea. Eating is another good cure for a hangover. I’ll have Room Service send some up.’ And he stood up to walk round to the extension that sat on his bedside chest. ‘I’ll order myself a decent breakfast at the same time. Just coffee won’t cut it this morning. Not with airline food beckoning me later today. I need something far more substantial.’

Tara pulled herself up into a sitting position, dragging the sheet up with her over her breasts and tucking it modestly around her. As much as she might have discovered a new abandon when she was turned on, she was still not an exhibitionist.

‘You know, Max,’ she said when he’d finished ordering, ‘you should keep some staple foods in your kitchen. Cereals last for weeks. So does long-life milk and juice. And bread freezes. It’s rather extravagant to order everything you eat from Room Service.’

‘Maybe, but I intend to keep on doing it. I work incredibly long hours and I have no intention of spending my precious leisure time in the kitchen. I have far more enjoyable things to do when I’m on R & R.’ And he gave her a wickedly knowing smile.

Tara was taken aback. Maybe she was extra-sensitive this morning, but she didn’t like Max describing the time he spent with her as R & R—rest and recreation.

She dropped her eyes to her lap to stop his noting her negative reaction and found herself staring at the huge topaz ring which was still on her finger. His gift was the only thing he hadn’t removed from her last night.

Suddenly, she saw it not as an anniversary present, but the beginning of many such gifts, given to her for services rendered; rewards for travelling with him and filling his rest and recreation hours in the way he liked most.

She pictured their sex games being played out in lavish hotel rooms all over the world, Max’s demands becoming more and more outrageous in line with the extravagance of his gifts. Soon, she’d be dripping in diamonds and designer clothes. But underneath, she wouldn’t be wearing any underwear. In the end, she would become his sex slave for real, bought and paid for, fashioned to fulfil his every desire. She would cease to be her own person. She’d just be a possession. A toy, to be taken out and played with during Max’s leisure time, and ignored when he went back to his real life. His work.

Of course, such a sex toy had to be perfect, physically. It could never be allowed to get fat. Or pregnant.

Pregnant sex slaves had two choices. They either got rid of their babies. Or they themselves were dispensed with.

Both scenarios horrified Tara.

‘Max!’ she exclaimed, her eyes flying upwards.

But Max was no longer in the bedroom. Tara had been so consumed with her thoughts—and her imaginary future—that she hadn’t noticed his leaving.

‘Max!’ she called out and the door of his dressing room opened. He emerged, dressed in one of his conservative grey business suits, though not teamed with his usual white shirt today. His shirt was a blue, the same blue as his eyes. And his tie was a sleek, shiny silver, a change from his usual choice. His hair was still damp from a recent shower and slicked straight back from his head.

He looked dashing, she thought. And very sexy.

But then, Max was very sexy.

An image flashed into her mind of his tipping champagne from the bottle over her breasts, then bending to lick it off. Slowly. So very slowly. She’d pleaded with him to stop teasing her.

But he’d ignored her pleas.

That was part of the game, wasn’t it?

The best part. The most exciting part.

‘What?’ he asked, frowning over at her.

‘I…I didn’t know where you were,’ she said lamely, hating herself for her sudden weakness. She’d been going to tell him that she’d changed her mind about travelling with him; that she didn’t really like the way things were heading.

But the words had died in her throat at the sight of him. It was so true what they said. The mind could be willing but the flesh was very weak.

‘Thought I might as well get dressed before Room Service called,’ he explained. ‘I know how you don’t like the butler coming in when you’re in bed. Besides, no point in staying in my bathrobe with you feeling under the weather, is there?’

The front door bell rang right at that moment. Max hurried from the room, returning in no time, wheeling a traymobile. By then, Tara had decided she was being a drama queen. Max loved her and she loved him. It was only natural that he would ask her to travel with him. And it was only natural that she would go.

As for her pregnancy…

That was as far-fetched an idea as her becoming some kind of mindless sex slave. She had always had a strong sense of her own self. Her mother called her wilful and her sister said she was incredibly stubborn. If Max started crossing the line where she was concerned, she would simply tell him so and come home. Nothing could be simpler.

‘Now, that’s what I like to see,’ Max said as he tossed her one of the Sunday papers. ‘Almost a happy face.’

She smiled at him. ‘Nothing like feeling better to make you feel better.’

He scowled. ‘Now she tells me, after I’m dressed.’

‘That was not an invitation for more sex, Max Richmond. I think we’ve indulged enough for one weekend. I would hate to think that all I’d be if and when I travel with you is a means of rest and relaxation.’

He frowned at her. ‘If and when? Did I hear correctly? I thought you’d agreed to come with me. It was just a matter of giving your notice.’

‘Yes, well, I’ve been having some second thoughts.’

Tara knew how to play that game. The hard-to-get game.

For years before she’d met Max, she’d played it to the hilt. Whilst she’d not been so successful with Max, she suspected that it would do him good to be a little less sure of her.

‘Aah,’ he said. ‘I see. Hence, the sex-slave accusation.’

‘Yes…’

Max sighed, then came over to sit on the bed once more.

‘I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this weekend, Tara, but I love you. Deeply. I want you with me for more than just sex. I enjoy just being with you, even when we’re not making love. I enjoy your company and your conversation. I enjoy your wit and your charm with other people. Taking you out is a delight. You are a delight. When you’re not sick, that is,’ he added drily, dampening her pleasure in his compliments.

‘Charming,’ she said. ‘So if I ever get sick, I will be tossed aside, like a toy whose batteries have run low?’

‘No more of this nonsense!’ he pronounced, and rose to his feet. ‘You’re coming with me and that’s that. So what would you like on your toast? There is a choice of honey, Vegemite and jam. Strawberry jam, by the look of it.’

‘Vegemite.’

‘Vegemite toast coming up, then.’

Tara raised no further objections to travelling with him.

But she resolved not to ever let him take away her much valued sense of independence. She’d always been her own person and would hate to think that her love for Max would eventually turn her into some kind of puppet.

She munched away on her toast and watched him tuck into his huge breakfast, which he ate whilst sitting with her on the bed. He chatted away when he could, pleasing her with the news that the comment she’d made yesterday about never being able to resist a buy-one, get-one-free sale had inspired him to make such an offer with his hotel in Hong Kong.

Stay one week, get one free was now posted on its website and was already bringing in results with scads of bookings.

‘We won’t make a great profit on the accommodation,’ he told her. ‘But empty rooms don’t return a cent. Hopefully, the type of guest this promotion attracts will spend all the money they think they’ve saved in other places in the hotel. Pierce thought I was crazy, but that was yesterday. This morning he’s singing my praises. Says I’m a genius. Forgive me for not telling him that my little genius is my girlfriend. Male ego is a terrible thing.’

Tara suspected that it was.

But it was also an attractive thing. It gave Max his competitiveness, and his drive. It made him the man he was, the man she loved.

‘Isn’t it unusual to have a male PA?’ she remarked, somewhat idly.

‘Unusual maybe. But wise, given the amount of time we spend overseas together.’

Tara blinked as the meaning behind Max’s words sank in. ‘Did you hire Pierce because he’s a man?’

‘You mean because I didn’t want to risk becoming involved with a female secretary?’

‘Yes.’

‘Absolutely. Been there, done that, and it was messy.’

‘How long ago?’

‘A good year or so before I met you.’

‘Did you sleep with her?’

Max pulled a face. ‘I wish you hadn’t asked me that.’

‘Did you sleep with her?’

‘Once or twice.’

‘Was it once, or twice?’

‘More than that, actually. Look, it was messy, as I said.’

‘Tell me about it.’

He sighed. ‘I’d rather not.’

‘I want to know. You know all about my past.’

‘Tara, you don’t have a past.’

‘Yes, I do. I might not have slept with guys but I made out with quite a few. I told you all about them that first night. I want to know, Max. Tell me.’

‘OK, but it isn’t pretty.’

‘Was she pretty?’

‘Pretty? No, Grace was not pretty. Not plain, either. Very slim. Nicely groomed. With red hair. Out of a bottle. She was already my personal assistant when Dad had his stroke. Up till then I’d taken care of the money side of things in the firm, here at home in Sydney. Suddenly, I had to go overseas. A lot. I took her with me. The man she was living with at the time didn’t like it and broke up with her. We’d never been involved before but all of a sudden, we were together every day of the week. We were both lonely, and stressed out. One night, over too many drinks, she made a pass at me and it just happened. It wasn’t love on my part. And she said it wasn’t on hers. It was more a matter of mutual convenience. I should have stopped it. I still feel guilty that I didn’t. Finally, when I tried to, she told me she was pregnant.’

Tara sucked in sharply.

‘She wasn’t,’ he went on. ‘It was just a ploy to get me to marry her. Frankly, I was suspicious right from the start. I’d always used condoms and there’d never been an accident, not like that one I had with you last year. When I insisted on accompanying her to a doctor to find out how far pregnant she was, she broke down and confessed she wasn’t at all.’

‘And if she had been, Max? What then? What would you have done?’

He shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know. But she wasn’t, so I didn’t have to face that dilemma. Thank God. But it made me wary, I can tell you. Hence, Pierce.’

‘I see. And what happened to her?’

‘I’m pleased to say she went back home to the man she’d been living with before. I had a note from her some months later to say they were getting married, and this time she really was having a baby. I was happy for her because I suspect she thought she was past having a child. She wasn’t all that young, you see. She was forty by then.’

‘An older woman,’ Tara said with an edge to her voice. ‘And an experienced one, I’ll bet. Did you learn some of those kinky games from her, Max? Was that why you couldn’t stop? Because she never had to be persuaded to finish anything she started?’

‘Stop it, Tara,’ Max snapped. ‘Stop it right now. You have no reason to be jealous of Grace. I’m sorry my past is not as pure as yours but I won’t be cross-questioned on it. And I won’t apologise for it. I’m a mortal man. I’ve made mistakes in my life, but hopefully I have learned from them.’

Putting aside his breakfast tray, he stood up. ‘I think perhaps I should get going before you find something else to argue about. I can see you’re out of sorts this morning in more ways than one. When you do feel well enough to go home, for pity’s sake use the credit card I gave you to take a taxi this time. I noticed in the statements I receive that you never use the darned thing these days.’

‘Fine,’ she said, wanting him to just go so that she could cry.

His eyes narrowed on her. ‘I wish I knew what was going on in that pretty head of yours.’

‘Not much. Blonde-bimbo mistresses aren’t known for their brains.’

‘Tara…’

‘I know. I’m acting like a fool. Forgive me.’ Tears pricked at her eyes.

‘Oh, Tara…’ And he started walking towards her.

She knew, without his saying a word, that he was going to take her into his arms. If he did that, she was going to disintegrate and say even more stupid things.

‘Please don’t come near me,’ she said sharply. ‘I smell of sick.’

He stopped, his eyes tormented. ‘I don’t want to leave you on this note.’

‘You can make it up to me next weekend in Auckland, when I feel better.’

‘That’s a week away.’

‘Ring me from Hong Kong, then. But not tonight. Tonight I want to go to bed early and sleep. I’m wrecked.’

He smiled. ‘Same here. I’ll be sleeping on that plane. All right, I’ll ring you tomorrow night. Can I peck you on the forehead?’

‘If you must.’

‘Oh, I must,’ he said softly as his lips brushed over her forehead. ‘I must…’

Tara waited till he was definitely gone before she dissolved into some very noisy weeping.