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Mistress On Demand
Maggie Cox


After a reckless, hot encounter with Dominic van Straaten, Sophie tried to slip back to her quiet life as a schoolteacher. But Dominic insisted that she should become part of his glamorous, glittering existence.It didn't take her long to realize that she was out of her depth… Now Dominic was proposing that she be available whenever and wherever he wanted her.But could Sophie let herself become Dominic's mistress on demand when she knew that he didn't love her?









Mistress on Demand

Maggie Cox















Contents


CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

COMING NEXT MONTH




CHAPTER ONE


SOPHIE had woken up with an awful presentiment that the day wouldn’t go well. From the moment she’d squirted toothpaste all down the front of her pyjama top, to the near disaster when she’d just narrowly escaped spilling a whole mug of coffee down the front of the ‘posh’ frock she was reluctantly wearing to her friend Diana’s wedding, her nerves had been jangled. Okay, so she didn’t like weddings—hated them, in fact, but Diana was her closest female friend, and after a tumultuous year when her volatile relationship with Freddie was on one minute, then off the next, the least Sophie could do was show up and bear witness to the occasion.

But her luck, if she was going to be blessed with any at all today—and Sophie was beginning to think that she wasn’t—just seemed to get worse and worse. She’d made three-quarters of the journey to the register office in her car when there’d been an awful spluttering hiss from the engine, then a pop, then…nothing, as it had finally given up the ghost and come to an undignified end by the side of the road. Sophie had had no alternative but to grab her coat and start walking to the register office. There was nobody she could ring for help because she wasn’t covered for breakdown and, besides, wouldn’t you know it? she’d left her mobile phone on the hall table along with her purse as she’d rushed out through the door. So she hadn’t even been able to get a taxi.

Now, as she hurried across the grey London pavements grimly clutching her umbrella because it had been raining all morning, and was still raining, and just when she believed her luck couldn’t get any worse, a gleaming black Rolls Royce swept past her into a puddle, which resembled a small reservoir, and all but drowned her in the backwash. Coming to a furious standstill as cold, muddy water dripped like sludge down the side of her fawn-coloured coat and turned her expensive matching shoes to a darker, grimier version of the concrete pavement, Sophie swore out loud. Not just once—but three times, in quick violent succession, each passionate utterance giving undisputed vent to her fury and indignation.

Narrowing her gaze, she saw to her surprise and satisfaction that the stately vehicle had slowed, then stopped at the side of the kerb. Not hesitating, she hurried towards it, her heart pumping with rage and her breath tight, her only concern that whoever was in there got a piece of her mind that they wouldn’t soon forget. If Sophie had to arrive at her best friend’s marriage ceremony looking as if she’d slept in a puddle beneath Waterloo bridge, then the occupant of that damned Rolls Royce was going to know that she prayed the same bad luck which had been visited on her today would dog the rest of his day.

She didn’t for one moment doubt that the car’s owner would be male. Only a thoughtless, insensitive oaf would deliberately drive through a puddle when he could clearly see her walking on the pavement beside it. But when she reached the car, a silver-haired chauffeur stepped out and looked immediately contrite.

‘I’m so sorry, miss. We were in a hurry and I didn’t see that confounded puddle until it was too late.’

‘Well, I’m in a hurry, too, but you don’t see me ruining someone else’s day with my thoughtlessness, do you? You should have been more careful! Now what am I supposed to do?’ Her freezing fingers curling stiffly around her umbrella handle, and the puddle that had soaked her shoes turning her feet to twin blocks of ice, Sophie had trouble keeping her teeth from chattering.

‘Get back in the car, Louis. I don’t have time for this. We’re going to be late as it is.’

It was only at the sound of that coolly imperious voice that Sophie glanced into the passenger-seat window at the back of the car. Catching a glimpse of precision-cut wheat-blond hair and eyes as hard as flint, she felt a shiver run down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold or damp conditions she currently found herself in. The man’s rapier-like instruction to his chauffeur, delivered as if he didn’t give a damn what had happened to Sophie as long as he got to where he was going, made her blood boil.

‘How dare you?’ she shouted. ‘I’m standing here soaked to the skin, my outfit ruined, because your stupid car happened to drive straight through a puddle the size of the River Thames, and all you can do is think about yourself and your own comfort! Well, I hope you have the worst day ever, I really do! You don’t even have the guts to step out and face me, do you? Never mind apologise!’

‘Miss…let me help you. I’m sure we could give you a lift to wherever you’re going. We could—’

As the mortified chauffeur did his best to make amends for the ignorance of his boss, the passenger door suddenly opened and the man seated in the back of the car stepped out to gaze at Sophie with unconcealed disdain, as if she was an annoying drone buzzing around his dinner. He was very tall, and his height and breadth of shoulders alone, beneath his formal black coat, should have intimidated her. Green eyes, as crystal-clear and sharp as unflawed emeralds, studied her indignant features without so much as a flicker of emotion. None.

‘What is it you want from me? You shouldn’t have been walking so close to the kerb, and wearing such ridiculous shoes in this weather, too. You have only yourself to blame.’

Ridiculous shoes? Sparing a brief wounded glance down at her too-expensive open-toed cream high-heeled sandals, which she had splashed out on purely in deference to her friend’s wedding, Sophie almost spluttered with rage.

‘How dare you? What kind of footwear I put on my feet isn’t your damned business remotely! I happen to be attending a special occasion…Not that that’s any of your business, either. Am I supposed to have foreseen that some idiot would drive by and almost drown me? You have a bloody nerve, you know that?’

‘I repeat…what do you want from me? Do you want me to reimburse you for the shoes or pay for your dry-cleaning? What? Tell me quickly so I can be on my way. I have already wasted valuable time standing here listening to you scream at me like a fishwife.’

He had some kind of accent, Sophie realised from his clipped speech. Dutch perhaps? But, more than that, she was reeling that he should dare to call her a fishwife just because she’d stood up for herself and hadn’t let him simply get in his car and be driven away without making her feelings known.

Seeing him take out his wallet and extract some notes, she all but blanched. ‘I don’t want your damned money! Didn’t it even occur to you that a simple gracious apology would do? I feel sorry for you…you know that? Driving around in your expensive car, hiding behind your tinted windows, acting like you run the world! Well, go on your way, Mister Whoever-you-are, and God forbid you’re as late for your precious appointment as I’m clearly going to be for mine! But if you are—just remember the reason why, huh?’

About to turn on her unaccustomed high heel, Sophie was shocked into speechlessness by the blond giant’s hand clamping suddenly around her more fragile wrist.

‘If you don’t want my money then perhaps a lift to wherever you are going would be more appropriate? Louis can drop me off at my own destination, then take you on to yours. Will that suffice?’

Knowing that it probably almost choked him to offer her a lift, and because her anger made her feel perverse, Sophie snatched her hand free and glared back at him with a distinct challenge in her large blue eyes. ‘In the absence of an apology then a lift will have to suffice under the circumstances.’ Biting her lip to prevent the more polite ‘thank you’ which threatened to follow her little speech, Sophie folded up her dripping umbrella and, at his instigation, preceded her reluctant host into the opulent hide-seated interior.

Feeling mutinous when her folded umbrella dripped muddy water all over the floor, she deliberately pursed her lips and stared out of the window while he settled himself as far away from her as possible at the other end of the seat. Perhaps he thought he might catch something contagious?

As the door slammed he said in a terse, reluctant voice, ‘You may tell Louis where you are going when I get out.’

Not believing a reply to be necessary, Sophie glanced down at the time on her watch, then back out of the tinted glass window at the rainy London street. She couldn’t help wondering if Diana was ever going to forgive her for turning up to her wedding late, and not only that, but looking like something the cat dragged in, too.

Minutes later, when the Rolls Royce purred to a halt outside a familiar-looking building, with wide curving steps leading up to its twin front doors, Sophie knitted her brows in confusion. She hadn’t yet told Louis where she was going, so how come he’d just pulled up outside the same register office where Diana was getting married to Freddie? As she saw the blond Adonis beside her open the passenger door next to him, she frowned again. ‘Wait a minute. This is where I need to be dropped off. I’m going to my friend’s wedding.’

Cool green eyes assessed her confusion with the kind of haughtiness that was normally associated with royalty. It made Sophie bristle, as well as causing hot, indignant colour to flood into her cheeks.

‘You are going to Diana Fitzwalter’s wedding?’ he demanded.

Now, how did he know that? And, more to the point, how did he know Diana? Sophie froze, as though she’d just lost her nerve on a tightrope walk, as the most obvious conclusion seeped slowly into her brain. Was he going to Diana’s wedding, too?

‘You know Diana?’ she queried, her shock barely allowing her vocal chords to function.

‘She is my personal assistant so, yes, obviously I know her.’

He was Dominic Van Straten? The billionaire property developer Diana worked for? The man who, according to her, found it hard to raise a smile even when the value of his stocks and shares had just shot through the roof and made him even richer? But why on earth would Diana invite him to her wedding when Sophie and one of Freddie’s friends were supposed to be the only witnesses because the couple wanted to keep the whole thing low-key?

Even her confident, outgoing friend had admitted to Sophie that the man just plain intimidated her, and the only reason she stayed working for him was that her salary far exceeded most personal assistants’, thereby allowing her a very comfortable lifestyle indeed.

Her legs feeling drained of strength, Sophie climbed out of the car behind him to finish speaking. ‘Well, I’m Diana’s friend…Sophie.’

Dominic didn’t smile. Neither did he introduce himself. The light grooves bracketing his forbidding mouth stayed obstinately still, without the merest suggestion of a surprised or conciliatory gesture such as a rueful smile. Well, what did she expect? The man was about as warm as a frozen joint of beef straight out of the freezer.

Pushing her fingers through the short damp strands of her hair, Sophie glanced down at her watch, barely registering that they were five minutes late for the ceremony already because she was suddenly feeling drained of every bit of pleasure or hope of an enjoyable afternoon. She visibly shivered, and Dominic Van Straten’s glacial glance flicked across her face with a flash of impatience before he turned and negotiated the wide concrete steps which led to the entrance of the building with an imposing long-legged stride.

In the vestibule they were greeted by a radiant-looking but anxious Diana, and her relieved and handsome fiancé, Freddie Carmichael.

‘Sophie! Thank God! What on earth happened to you?’ Diana’s eyes widened in disbelief as she took in the dark greying stains on Sophie’s fawn coat and the mud splashed up her cream hosiery and shoes.

Glancing briefly at her brooding and so far silent companion, Sophie shrugged. ‘Car broke down and I had to walk. I’ll tell you all about it later. Is it time to go in?’

‘It is. Oh, God, I’m feeling nervous! How nice to see you, Dominic. I’m so glad you could come at such short notice. Trust Freddie’s best pal to come down with flu! So good of you to act as stand-in. Shall we go in? I believe the registrar is waiting for us.’

All through the touching ceremony, it seemed to Sophie that Dominic expressed very little emotion of any kind. Not even a smile. His presence unnerved Sophie tremendously, she had to admit. When they both had to sign the marriage certificate as witnesses afterwards, he bent his blond head to the task as gravely as though he were signing someone’s death certificate.

Diana had told Sophie that they were all going to lunch at the Park Lane Hilton where other friends were joining them, and Sophie found herself praying hard that Dominic wouldn’t be accompanying them. Having to maintain a pretended civility towards a man she instinctively disliked would be like being forced to wear a tight Victorian corset that constricted her breathing for the afternoon.

She hadn’t prayed hard enough. Half an hour later, holding a glass of crystal champagne in the foyer of the plush hotel to toast the bride and groom, her stained coat at last relegated to an obliging assistant in the cloakroom, and Dominic standing beside her, she gulped down her champagne too quickly and had an immediate coughing fit. The hand that clapped down on her back to try and ease her discomfort was surprisingly Dominic’s.

‘Here,’ he said, ‘let me take your glass until you compose yourself.’

‘Oh, Soph! Are you all right, darling?’ Diana appeared at her other side, her hazel eyes full of concern. Smiling through the tears that had embarrassingly sprung to her eyes, Sophie nodded. Retrieving her glass from Dominic’s large square hand, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She was having a pig of a day and no mistake! If anything else went wrong for her she vowed to herself she would simply go home, lock the door and devour a large box of chocolates, as recompense.

‘I’m fine, thanks. Just went down the wrong way.’

‘Oh, look who’s just arrived! It’s Katie and David. Will you excuse us for a moment, you two? We’ll be right back.’

Before she could say anything, Sophie watched Diana glide away with her attentive new husband to greet the newcomers she had spotted in the foyer’s entrance. Disconcertingly, she was left alone with Dominic. It was a little like being left alone in a sealed cage with a boa constrictor and a man-eating tiger, and probably twice as intimidating.

‘The ceremony went well, don’t you think?’ Inwardly Sophie groaned as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Now I sound like a character in an old English farce! She thought with annoyance. It would probably be better if she stopped the pretence of civility right there and then, and simply ignored the hateful man. And she’d never forgive him if his taciturn and condescending manner ruined Diana’s wedding day.

‘Do you like weddings?’ he asked her, surprisingly.

Seeing that there was still no hint of a smile or anything remotely friendly on his severe but handsome face, Sophie stared back at him defiantly. ‘No. I hate them, as a matter of fact.’

‘Why?’

Never having had to express her feelings about the subject before to a stranger, Sophie honestly wasn’t sure how to explain her aversion. ‘I find them…awkward. In my opinion Diana and Freddie did the right thing, keeping things simple. There’s always some kind of horrible tension when families get together at these sorts of occasions, don’t you think? Plus, you have to talk to people you’d rather not at the reception, and it’s all very difficult.’

She reached the end of her sentence and clamped her mouth shut in horror at what she’d just said. Talk about putting her foot in it! But, to her consternation, Dominic didn’t appear at all offended. Instead, a smile started to lurk around his lips, completely transforming that gravely serious face of his into something much more humane.

‘I take it you are not married yourself, Sophie?’

‘That’s correct.’ Her own manner now a little stiff, because she thought he must be thinking, I’m not surprised, she couldn’t help flushing a little in embarrassment. She knew she wasn’t exactly plain but she was hardly extraordinary, and the fact that he had already called her a ‘fish wife’ when she’d lost her temper with him didn’t exactly help her case.

When he appeared not to be going to make any comment whatsoever, but simply studied her as though she were an interesting alien specimen that had flown in from Mars, Sophie honestly just wanted to go to the cloakroom, collect her ruined coat and flag down a taxi to take her home. She could pay for it when she got there. But, even though that was her strongest urge, she knew she would grit it out, for Diana. She wouldn’t be the one fly in the ointment that spoiled her friend’s wedding day. She would leave that particular little trick to Diana’s very superior and aloof boss.

‘You must let me reimburse you for your spoiled coat and shoes,’ he said eventually, and Sophie squirmed with discomfort.

She didn’t want to accept his money, or his sudden inclination to give it to her. She just wanted to get away from this horribly embarrassing situation that she found herself in as quickly as possible. Would Diana buy her story that she was up to her eyes in marking essays for her five-year-old pupils? No. She didn’t think so…

‘Look, Mr Van Straten. You don’t like me, and I don’t like you, so you don’t have to reimburse me for anything, and we don’t need to stand here making polite conversation when we’d both clearly prefer to be somewhere else! Why did you agree to be Diana’s witness, by the way?’

If he was taken aback, either by her outburst or her question, again Dominic gave no sign. ‘She asked me as a favour and I was happy to comply. That obviously surprises you, Sophie.’

It surprised the hell out of her that he even deigned to call her by her name, let alone pursue any further conversation with her after what had happened between them.

‘Frankly, it does. You don’t strike me as the kind of man who easily dispenses favours.’

‘Oh? And so what kind of man do I strike you as, Sophie?’

Now she’d done it. The words cold, remote, insensitive and superior hovering on her tongue, she forged recklessly ahead instead with, ‘Too self-contained and self-interested to notice others’ needs if you want to know the truth.’ Those words were probably worse. Much worse, going by the glower that had suddenly replaced his previously more benign expression.

‘You don’t believe in mincing your words, do you? It does not surprise me that you are not married. A man likes a little verbal jousting, from time to time, Sophie, but he does not like a shrew.’

‘I’m not a shrew!’ It was true she had a temper, but it was only really roused by injustice of any kind. Like earlier, when Dominic’s expensive regal car had splashed muddy water all over her nice clothes. Clothes that she was hard-pushed to afford on the ridiculously inadequate pay of a primary-school teacher.

Pursing her lips, Sophie held onto that temper by a thread, wishing that Diana would quickly come back and join them, to help alleviate the now increasingly uncomfortable tension between herself and this man.

‘I’m not a shrew, but neither am I a woman who is scared to speak her mind. If it weren’t for the kindness of your chauffeur, Mr Van Straten, you would have left me stranded and bedraggled by the roadside while you made your way to my best friend’s wedding. Nothing you have said or done since makes me think that you have any redeeming qualities that I may have missed!’

‘Even when I stopped you from choking?’

Sophie’s blue eyes flew indignantly wide. ‘You did not stop me from choking! My champagne went down the wrong way, that’s all.’

‘So I am too ‘‘self-contained’’ and ‘‘self-interested’’ to help someone in obvious distress? That is what you think?’

‘Actions speak louder than words, so they say.’

‘Then you need not worry that I will be joining you for lunch. I will not inflict my company upon you any longer.’

And, with that, Dominic abruptly turned his back on Sophie and left. With her heart throbbing beneath her ribs, she watched him cross the plushly carpeted foyer and go over to speak to Diana. Clearly seeing the surprise and dismay reflected on her friend’s attractive face as he spoke to her, Sophie could have kicked herself for being the reason that Dominic was leaving. Obviously Diana wanted him there, or she wouldn’t have asked him to stand in as a witness in the first place.

If only Sophie had been able to contain her temper! This day wasn’t about her own comfort or discomfort. It was about Diana having one of the best days of her life. Now her best friend had thoughtlessly gone and ruined it!

Even though she disliked Dominic Van Straten with a passion, she still felt terribly guilty at driving him away. As soon she managed to get Diana on her own she confessed her feelings to her friend.

‘I scared him off.’

She took another sip of champagne and screwed up her nose at a taste she wasn’t sure she would ever become accustomed to. She needn’t have worried. On a teacher’s salary buying champagne was not exactly a dilemma.

‘What do you mean, you scared him off?’ Looking puzzled and beautiful, with her carefully styled blonde hair and her fitted ivory suit, Diana frowned. ‘Nobody scares Dominic Van Straten away from anything! More like the other way round! He told me something important came up that he had to attend to. I thought that might happen. The man barely ever takes a break from his work. What a shame…especially as he’s paying for all of this!’

‘Your boss is paying for your wedding feast?’ Now Sophie was aghast. You don’t strike me as a man who dispenses favours easily…she had said to him.

‘He insisted. Including all the champagne we can drink. He’s not the easiest man in the world to work for, but you can’t fault his generosity.’

‘Really?’ Sophie’s eyes slid guiltily away as she told herself it wasn’t her fault if he was so easily offended. He had, after all, called her a shrew. Had he really expected her to forget that and carry on as normal? But this was Diana’s special day, and she had clearly wanted her boss to be a part of the celebrations. Why wouldn’t she when he’d been decent enough to pay for everything?

Honesty behoved Sophie to emphasise the truth more forcefully. ‘Diana, listen, it really is my fault that Dominic left! We got off to a bad start. His car inadvertently splashed me with muddy water; that’s why my coat was in such a state. Anyway, I’m afraid I lost my temper with him. Just now, before he left, things just went from bad to worse and I ended up insulting him rather badly.’

At the appalled look of disbelief on Diana’s face, another surge of horrible guilt washed over Sophie. ‘I didn’t realise he’d paid for your wedding feast or I would have held onto my temper a bit better. I’m really sorry.’

‘Oh, Sophie, what have you done?’ Diana groaned, digging through her satin purse to find her mobile phone. ‘I’ll have to ring him and apologise. If I can persuade him to come back you’ve got to promise me you’ll be on your best behaviour, or you and I won’t stay friends for much longer! Do you understand?’

‘Perhaps it would just be best if I left now?’

Knowing she was taking the coward’s way out, Sophie told herself that if Dominic conceded to return to the reception, and Diana enjoyed the rest of her day, then the fact that her best friend wouldn’t be there would be worth it.

‘Oh, no, you don’t!’ Grabbing her hand before she could take even one step towards the exit, Diana looked furious. ‘You are going to stay here and face the music! If Dominic expects an apology from you then you are going to give it to him—do you hear me, Sophie? I am not having my wedding day ruined because you were rude to the one person I can’t afford to let you be rude to!’




CHAPTER TWO


EATING humble pie had never been so painful. Later that evening, round the dining table, she deliberately avoided eye contact with Dominic.

After making her stammering apology, Sophie had lapsed into a painful and angry silence. The man hadn’t even had the grace to accept her apology like a gentleman. Instead, he’d arrogantly replied, ‘I will accept your apology, Sophie…for Diana’s sake,’ then continued to talk to Freddie—Diana’s husband—as though Sophie no longer existed.

Sophie had never felt more belittled or disgruntled in all her life. He had got the upper hand again, and it was clear he was going to make Sophie suffer as a consequence. Right then, as she studied his handsome, hard-jawed profile, she honestly despised the man. She was glad for Diana’s sake that he had relented and returned to the reception, but she almost would have preferred ex-communication from Diana’s friendship than endure the vehement discomfort that she was currently having to endure.

When the guests moved into the bar area, where a tuxedo-attired pianist was entertaining the hotel residents with some gentle jazz, Sophie wondered how long in all conscience she should stay, before telling Diana she was leaving? Standing alone as she sipped the glass of wine she had brought with her from the table, Sophie glanced up startled as she suddenly found herself face to face with Dominic.

For a long moment he just stared at her, saying nothing. Her spine prickling with resentment, Sophie remembered that she had promised Diana not to let her temper run away with her again. At least as far as this man was concerned. But, God, it was hard! Swallowing razorblades would surely be easier?

‘Having a nice time?’ she asked, then coloured as she realised he could easily interpret such a remark as facetious.

‘I can tell you are not happy that I came back, Sophie.’ One corner of his mouth curled back into his smooth cheek. She focused her gaze on the two black buttons on his jacket instead of being persuaded to look into his eyes, unreasonably annoyed that his eyes should be so disagreeably hypnotic and so unrelentingly green.

‘Whatever gave you that idea?’

Now she did sound facetious. Dammit! It was nigh on impossible to be agreeable to this man when he clearly thought himself so much better than everyone else. Stealing a look over Dominic’s broad shoulder, in its perfectly tailored jacket, Sophie caught a pointed glimpse of Diana’s definitely raised eyebrow. It was as if she were silently saying to Sophie, Remember your promise? Don’t go ruining anything else!

Sophie swallowed hard, and somehow managed to persuade her mostly uncooperative lips into a smile up at Dominic.

For a moment he registered surprise. Then he glanced round, saw that she’d been looking at Diana, and turned back with a slight disapproving tilt of his jaw. She had to be the most difficult and argumentative woman he had ever come across, Dominic thought. But she had pretty eyes, and a torturously sexy mouth, and even though her ill manners exasperated him she stirred a surprising heat inside him that he couldn’t deny. In fact, as he took another careful sip of his wine Dominic let that heat sizzle a little in sudden concentrated anticipation that he might turn his verbal conflagration with Sophie into a conflagration of a very different but much more pleasurable sort. If she wasn’t passive by nature, there was no way that the woman would be passive in bed.

Quite unexpectedly, the thought became urgent and goal-orientated, until Dominic found he could think of nothing he’d like more than getting Sophie between the sheets and indulging in the kind of sexual sparring that excited him most. Before the night was through, he vowed to have her purring rather than wanting to scratch his eyes out!

‘Your glass is almost empty, I see. How about some more champagne?’

Before Sophie could even register his intention, Dominic had deftly removed her glass from her hand and, glancing round him, signalled a nearby waiter to give him her glass and an order for more drinks. When he turned back to Sophie, levelling his disturbing gaze on her eyes and then her mouth, as if he would devour her down to her very bones, her senses were suddenly besieged by a wave of desire so ignitable that for a moment she couldn’t think, let alone form words.

Rocked to the very toes of her expensive cream sandals, she wondered what the hell was wrong with her? She disliked this smug, arrogant man intensely, never mind desired him! She must have had too much champagne and wine. That was the only logical conclusion she could come to right then. She had better slow things right down before she committed one more act of utter and complete folly, and so thoroughly made a fool of herself that she wouldn’t be able to live with herself again.

‘I really don’t think I ought to have any more alcohol,’ she confessed, aghast at the fact that her composure had been thrown so off kilter by his too-intimate cynosure. ‘I’m not really used to drinking.’

‘If not drinking, then surely you must have other vices, Sophie? I wonder what they might be?’

Her attention trapped indisputably by the suggestive honeyed tones of his mesmerising voice, Sophie couldn’t look away. She wanted to make some clever or cutting little quip, to put a dent in his too-confident leer, but her throat and her thoughts seemed to dry up at the same time, and nothing sprang helpfully to mind.

‘Sophie? Are you all right?’

He touched her; laid his hand on her bare arm and gave it a definite squeeze. There was no question in Sophie’s mind that he had somehow branded her. Now her senses were jumping around all over the place in utter and wild confusion, and the place where he had lain his fingers felt as if it were on fire. Why was it that when she looked into that intimidatingly handsome face of his she knew she hated him? Yet when he had touched her just now she had almost swayed with the sheer intoxicating pleasure of it? Today was turning out to be one of the most bizarre days in recent memory that was for sure!

‘I’m fine. I was just—I just felt a little cold…that’s all.’

‘Cold?’ A surprised eyebrow lifted towards Dominic’s crown of blond hair, accompanied by a very wry and disbelieving smile. The room was almost too hot. And he could plainly see that Sophie’s cheeks were burning. In that very moment Dominic knew without a doubt she was having trouble diverting her attraction towards him. Just as he was having trouble doing the same thing with her. In his mind there was only one solution to their mutual problem.

‘How were you planning on getting home this evening?’ he asked, his voice deceptively casual as his eyes met the startled blue of her anxious gaze.

‘Home?’ Good God! Now she had completely lost the ability to converse at all. She’d turned into a monosyllabic idiot! Determinedly Sophie made herself focus. Was he going to offer her a lift? she speculated.

‘Oh, I’ll probably cadge a lift off one of Diana’s friends, or get a taxi.’

‘I was wondering…as an alternative…’ Dominic moved closer, and his fingers found their way beneath Sophie’s chin and lifted it up a little. Her bones were so delicate and fine that she felt the strong imprint of his fingers acutely. Inside, her heart felt as if it was just about to go into cardiac arrest, and she waited for him to finish speaking all thoughts of Diana, Freddie, and their friends vanished as if they no longer existed. The only two people left in the room were herself and Dominic. ‘…whether you might like to stay the night in the hotel, with me?’

‘Sta—stay the night?’ she repeated, once more appalled at how this man could affect her so acutely with just one smooth, confident glance. Was he serious? The thought that he might be stringing her along, to pay her back for insulting him earlier, struck a very loud alarm bell in Sophie’s head. He had turned on the charm, reeled her in, and now he was going to dump her in an even bigger metaphorical puddle than the real one that had drenched her earlier!

She circled her fingers around his wrist and threw his hand away. ‘You must think me completely stupid if you think I’m going to fall for that kind of obvious little ruse! I’m on to you, Mr Van Straten! I know all you’re trying to do is pay me back because I spoke my mind earlier, and didn’t bow and scrape like you usually expect people to do in your exalted company!’

Dominic couldn’t help but laugh. It simply hadn’t occurred to him that she might think his invitation to bed was some kind of game he was playing to repay her for insulting him! She was a defensive little creature, that was for sure. He would have to convince her he meant no offence at all—quite the opposite in fact.

‘You have it all wrong Sophie. There was no affront intended. Nor do I expect you to ‘‘bow and scrape’’ in my company. I do, however, desire very much that you share my bed tonight. I am perfectly serious about this, and there is no trick up my sleeve with which I am trying to hoodwink you. Understand?’ He saw the confusion in her eyes, the slight flush that rushed into her cheeks, and the way her hands nervously went to her hair. Feeling his desire grow, Dominic slid his hand around the curve of her cheek and jaw, and gently stroked the skin that was as beguiling to the touch as the most opulent velvet.

‘Understand?’ he repeated more softly.



Dominic had taken off Sophie’s shoes. Sitting on the bed, with its rich claret-coloured satin counterpane, her hands intertwined in her lap, it was hard for her to stop trembling like a shivering kitten that had been left out in the rain as he knelt before her. She wanted him to kiss her. Wanted it so badly that her very bones ached with longing. Instead, she watched entranced as he divested himself of his jacket and tie, opened some buttons on his shirt and—with his gaze fixed firmly on hers—slid his palms up the outside of her stockinged thighs.

The blue silk of her dress rippled like a gentle flowing stream as he edged it further and further up her legs. She was wearing a cream-coloured suspender belt with little embossed daisies on it to hold up her matching cream hosiery, and Sophie wondered what Dominic would think of her undoubtedly sexy underwear? Would he imagine she’d worn it just in case she got lucky? Because this was so far from the truth, and she was unable to keep her pained thoughts to herself, she inadvertently released a groan. Dominic smiled at her with a slow, engagingly sexy smile of acknowledgement, and a spark of molten heat burned back at her from his darkened green eyes as he flipped open the fastenings that held her stockings up and slowly…very slowly…peeled them down her bare legs.

Excitement and all-consuming need thrummed commandingly through Dominic’s blood. Seducing a beautiful woman was one of life’s most exquisite pleasures, after all, and he knew the seductive arts as well as he knew how to make a million dollars without exerting himself. The skill had become innate. Knowing how to take things slowly—how to drive a woman’s passion to such a crescendo that she would beg him to take her, to ease her agony—he was perfectly acquainted with bestowing sensual delectation.

But, right now Dominic was the one who was in desperate need of this woman’s touch. He needed it—no, craved it, as if he would lose his mind if he didn’t have it soon. With her eyes blinking back at him like a startled owl’s, Dominic registered her tension—her excitement and, linking his fingers expertly around the sides of the scant silk panties she was wearing, he gave them a gentle tug downwards. Quickly removing them, he settled his body nearer hers on the bed, whilst still kneeling on the carpet, and this time slid his palms up the insides of her trembling legs.

Hearing her deeply in-drawn breath, Dominic caressed the fine dark curls at her apex, then worked his fingers inside her. At the sensation of hot moist heat, that drenched him, he could not prevent his own gasp of violent pleasure.

Oh, God, yes! More please more! Don’t stop. Sophie’s thoughts were desperate and wild as Dominic worked his magic, making her climax almost before she even knew that was her destination. Feeling heat saturate her, and her aroused nipples rub acutely sensitively against the flimsy material of her bra inside her dress, she expelled her breath in soft urgent gasps of deliciously lustful pleasure. Tipping back her head, she shut her eyes in ecstasy as erotic waves rippled powerfully through her, one after the other.

She’d never known release like it. Such mind-spinning pleasure had only been pure fantasy for Sophie up until now.

Opening her eyes again, she saw that Dominic had discarded his shirt and was doing the same to his trousers. Her gaze devoured him greedily. His body was amazing. Broad, beautifully muscled shoulders and chest, an iron-hard stomach tapering down to lean, tight hips, a sprinkling of fine blond hairs disappearing tantalisingly down into his black silk boxers. Sophie inadvertently dampened her lips with her tongue.

Dominic honed in on the unknowingly erotic gesture with such a possessive, hungry glance that she almost climaxed again, right there and then. Then, rising over her on the bed, he tipped up her chin and brought his lips down hard and hot upon hers. His tongue was a seductive instrument of velvet torture as he played with and teased Sophie’s mouth, nipping and stroking her tender flesh with ruthless prowess.

His expertise took kissing to a whole new dimension. The taste of him was the most destroyingly addictive nectar her lips had ever experienced, and she wasn’t ashamed to silently admit she wanted more. Reaching for the hem of her silk dress, he lifted it over Sophie’s head in one quick, fluid movement, then undid her lacy cream bra in the same expert fashion.

‘You are perfect,’ he breathed in wonder, as his hand cupped the soft swell of one full pink-tipped breast and then the other.

‘Not as perfect as you,’ Sophie couldn’t help replying, putting her hand out to touch his bare, flat stomach. Her fingers touched velvet steel, and she sucked in a deep breath in purely sensual satisfaction.

‘Yes,’ Dominic agreed, his voice a silken rasp, ‘touch me, Sophie. I want you to touch me.’

His command opened the floodgates of need inside her. Greedily she slid her hand down, past his perfect navel, past the springy clutch of fine blond hairs, and grasped his hard, hot erection. He felt like satin. As her fingers curled around him Dominic groaned, then bent his head and kissed Sophie again, drinking from her moist, plundered lips with increasing urgency and ardour. She offered no protest when he guided her firmly down onto the bed and positioned his strong, muscular thighs either side of her.

Just before she lost the power to think of anything else but the intense gratification to come, Sophie knew she ought to tell Dominic that she was on the Pill. She took it more to help regulate her periods than for more obvious reasons, but even as she opened her mouth to speak she saw him reach into the trousers he had discarded and withdraw a small blue packet.

As he slipped off his boxers and sheathed himself in the protection she saw for herself how generously endowed he was, and her mouth went dry as chalk. She forgot the fact that they were supposed to be enemies, that they didn’t have a single thing in common between them except this: this wild, inexplicable sexual attraction that had flared up between them hotly and unexpectedly and compelled them to go to bed together. And when Dominic brought his mouth down upon her breasts, attending to each one in turn with hot, demanding caresses, urging her towards the most intense delectation she had ever known, Sophie decided not to fight her conscience at all, but simply just to enjoy the experience instead.

Didn’t her friends do that all the time? Not the ones who were looking for Mr Right, but the others, who believed it was a woman’s right to take sexual pleasure wherever she could find it and suffer no guilt.

‘Are you ready for me, Sophie?’ Dominic whispered against her ear, as he slid his hard, fit body along hers. ‘Are you going to let me inside now?’

Was that husky little whimper really hers? Was that soft, needy voice really the same vehemently strident one that had levelled all those insults at him just a few short hours ago? As he urged her slender thighs apart, and pushed slowly but firmly inside her, Sophie ran her hands down Dominic’s back, pressing her fingernails into his toned muscled flesh with increasing need as he thrust deeply inside her.

‘That’s it, my little cat…Let me feel your pretty little claws.’

Dominic had always been blessed with a healthy libido, but even he had not experienced sexual need so intensely passionate as this. His lips became intimately acquainted with every inch of her flesh in a hungry search to sate himself with her body. Even her sweat tasted sweet to his beguiled mouth.

Holding back his own desperate compulsion to reach a climax, Dominic thrust into Sophie again and again, until she came undone in his arms. As she quivered and moaned, and slid her hands down the now slippery wetness of his back, he succumbed to a wave of ecstasy so powerful and glorious that he was left breathless and stunned in its aftermath. Before he rolled away from her, Dominic stared down into Sophie’s lovely blue eyes and smiled at her with the most deeply satisfied smile he had ever bestowed on a lover before.

‘You have nothing to say to me now my, little cat?’ he taunted gently, green eyes brimming with amusement and fierce, fierce pleasure.

Staring up into the hard, lean contours of his mesmerising face, her body already needing him again, and throbbing with unashamed anticipation, Sophie sighed softly up at him.

‘Sometimes words aren’t necessary…don’t you think?’ she whispered, her glance already sliding away from his, in case she exposed herself too deeply to his hot, examining gaze…



About to race out of the door because she was late, Sophie was delayed by the appearance of a courier with a large package that she had to sign for. Puzzled by what the contents could possibly be, she nonetheless signed the delivery note quickly, left the box on the table just inside the front door, and dashed down the road to catch the bus that would take her to the primary school where she taught.

The local garage did not hold out much hope for her beloved car, so she had no choice other than to use public transport to get to work. The young mechanic who had looked over it for her had shaken his head and cheerfully told Sophie that it didn’t have much value other than scrap. His blasé conclusion pained her deeply. Any repairs she might instruct them to undertake would apparently cost her almost twice that of the value of the car itself. Her heart sinking, she’d agreed to let them tow it away, and resigned herself to getting used to either Shanks’s pony or the unreliable delights of the local transportation system. She certainly wasn’t in the market for a new car—second-hand or otherwise.

Diana’s wedding and the whole difficult day on Friday—culminating in the most surprising event of all, when she and Dominic had ended up in bed together—he’d vowed not to think about too much.

How had she allowed herself to behave like such an unbelievable little hussy? Even now she couldn’t quite believe she had succumbed so easily to the ruthless charm of Diana’s handsome boss. Coming to her senses in the early hours of Saturday morning, she had been careful not to wake him in the bed beside her, and instead had paid a brief visit to the bathroom, dressed quickly, then left the hotel without so much as saying goodbye to him. What was the point? In the harsh, cold light of morning she knew they’d both only regret their passionate fling.

No…Sophie had definitely done the right thing where Dominic Van Straten was concerned. She’d saved them both the embarrassment of confronting each other again. No doubt he’d been nothing but relieved when he’d woken to find her gone.

Now, on Monday morning, Sophie found that she actually welcomed the chattering voices of her class of sixteen lively five-year-olds in preference to ever enduring such an uncomfortable occasion as Diana’s wedding ever again. Whenever her unguarded mind recalled Dominic’s intoxicating presence, her stomach reacted with an anxious, confused flip, and she was surprised yet again how one beguiling yet infuriating stranger could make her respond with such violent emotion.

She’d never had a one-night stand in her life before, and to have one with her best friend’s boss, and on her wedding day, too, was probably the most uncharacteristic and reckless thing she’d ever done.

It was a good job Diana and Freddie had left before they’d found out that Sophie had agreed to spend the night with Dominic, or else she’d never have gone through with it in the first place. But even as she tried to reassure herself she would not willingly have embarrassed her friend—she knew she could not have resisted Dominic’s invitation that night—not when his eyes had undressed her and openly made love to her even before they had reached the hotel room!

‘Finish the story, Miss!’

‘What?’ Snapping out of yet another recollection of the Dutch billionaire who seemed to be dominating her thoughts with alarming regularity that morning, Sophie flushed guiltily, adjusted the illustrated book in her lap, and smiled warmly down at the group of children gathered round her seat on the floor. ‘Where were we?’

‘The big bad wolf was just about to gobble up the grandmother!’ a little girl with blonde bobbed hair offered enthusiastically.

Sophie didn’t miss the irony that she should be reading the story of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf when her mind was preoccupied with thinking about Dominic…



The first thing she saw when she came through the door that evening was the package. Carrying it into the living room, Sophie shucked off the navy-blue duffel coat she’d been wearing over her skirt and sweater and laid the box down on the coffee table to examine the contents. There was a label on the back that announced the name of a well-known and expensive store in Knightsbridge, and Sophie frowned as she looked at it, wondering who on earth would be sending her anything from such an exclusive shop.

She came from an honest, hard-working, working-class family, and certainly her mum or dad or even her brother Phillip wouldn’t dream of sending her expensive presents totally out of the blue.. and neither would Sophie want them to. As she opened the box and stared down at the contents she sucked in her breath in astonishment.

It was a coat…the same fawn colour as her own, but made from cashmere, with a luxurious cream silk lining. Lifting it out to examine it more closely, Sophie saw to her amazement that it was the perfect size and length for her shape and height. Laying it down carefully on her threadbare burgundy couch, she searched around in the elegant tissue paper for a note of some kind, even though by now she had a pretty good idea who had sent it.

By the time she’d located the small gold-embossed business card, with ‘Dominic’ scrawled across one side in an impressive flourish, her heart was just about ready to burst out of her chest. Sophie couldn’t remember telling him her address, but at some point in the evening she guessed she must have. After they’d made love they’d had more champagne brought to the room, and Sophie had been uncharacteristically giggly and talkative because of it.

She groaned out loud as she remembered. But why was Dominic sending her such an expensive coat when all they’d had was a one-night stand? Was it meant to be some kind of veiled insult or a reproach to make Sophie feel cheap? Was that it? He’d said he’d meant no affront when he’d asked her to go to bed with him, but what if he’d lied? Her heart plummeted like a stone. What if he was teaching her a lesson? A horrible and despicable one, but a lesson in his eyes all the same?

He might have been an expert lover, and he might have made her blood zing, but it was still a fact that Dominic Van Straten was completely out of Sophie’s sphere. What would demonstrate that fact more completely than sending the ‘poor little working class girl’ an expensive coat in payment for her ‘services’ at the hotel the other night? Just because he’d made love to her, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t still arrogant, and even possibly cruel.

Her first instinct was to fold the coat back into its expensive packaging and mail it right back to him, and even as the thought came into her mind Sophie found herself arranging the coat back into the box in a fever of indignation and rage. Reading the card again, she looked for an address and found it. Surprisingly, it wasn’t his office address, but his home one: Mayfair, London. Where else would a property developer billionaire live?

Seeing that there was a telephone number included beneath the address, Sophie went to the telephone in the hallway with thumping heart. If he thought she’d given him a piece of her mind on Friday, he’d better watch out! What did he think she was? Some kind of loose woman who’d gladly accept his no-doubt insulting gift of an expensive coat without a murmur? If he thought that, then he had a very big shock in store!

‘Mr Van Straten’s residence,’ announced a cultured male voice at the other end of the line.

‘I’d like to speak to Mr Van Straten,’ Sophie announced as a flood of adrenaline shot through her system and almost made her sway. He was probably conveniently out.. or if he was at home no doubt he would instruct his butler, or whoever it was that had answered the phone, to tell her he wasn’t available as soon as he knew it was Sophie.

‘Whom shall I say is calling?’ the voice at the other end came back.

Licking her suddenly dry lips, Sophie stared blankly at the picture on the wall, a well-known Degas print of ballerinas at the barre, going through their exercises. Shocked that he was actually at home, she told herself to keep her head and not give way to shrillness of any kind when she told him what he could do with his expensive gift. He’d already accused her of being a ‘shrew’ and a ‘fishwife,’ and if he insulted her with any such labels one more time, he’d rue the day!

‘Sophie Dalton.’

She’d been about to explain that she was a friend of his assistant, Diana, then had thought, How ridiculous! If Dominic didn’t condescend to remember her after what had occurred between them on Friday night then he was even more arrogant and despicable than she’d thought, and therefore even less deserving of any respect.

‘Sophie. What a pleasant surprise!’

His voice shocked her into silence. It was disconcertingly familiar, and much too compelling to ever be taken lightly. On the telephone, his tone was sexier and much more troubling to her peace of mind than it had a right to be. It made her remember him asking seductively, ‘Are you ready for me Sophie?’ Hot embarrassed colour surged into her face at the recollection.

‘I wish I could say I felt the same, Dominic, but I can’t. About the coat you sent me, I—’

‘I trust it’s the right size? I confess I had to guess your measurements, but then I do pride myself on being uncannily accurate when it comes to such things.’

He meant women…and their bodies. Was she just one of many female bodies he had undressed? Furious and hurt at the same time, she had to take a moment to compose herself. ‘Whether it’s the right size or not doesn’t concern me! You had no right to send it to me in the first place. Especially when I know you are only trying to insult me!’

‘Insult you?’ Dominic said something beneath his breath that she didn’t quite catch, and Sophie smoothed her hand down over her hip and reminded herself to keep her temper.

‘Yes, insult me! Why else would you send it? You were making some sleazy point, no doubt, to thank me for services rendered. Well, you know what you can do with your expensive cashmere, don’t you? I’ll be mailing the coat straight back to you tomorrow! Just as soon as I can get to the Post Office.’

‘My chauffeur accidentally splashed your coat with cold muddy water, Sophie…remember? I was merely trying to make amends by sending you a new one. Anything else is completely a figment of your oversensitive imagination.’

‘Why make amends now, when you seemed not to care one jot about my situation on Friday, at Diana’s wedding? Just because I was foolish enough to sleep with you, Dominic, it doesn’t mean I’m a complete fool! I don’t want your expensive gifts, do you hear? Whatever your reasons for sending me the coat, I have no intention of accepting it, or being beholden to you in any way.’

Dominic didn’t know many women who would be insulted by the gift of a very expensive coat from one of the country’s top exclusive stores. No—he had to rephrase that. He knew for a fact that there were no women of his acquaintance that would have reacted in such an unexpected way. The women in his life had always adored the fact that he had the wealth and taste to purchase such expensive gifts for them—even the ones who came from money themselves.

Again, in spite of his irritation with Sophie for thinking he was trying to insult her, Dominic sensed the blood heat in his veins as though it were being pursued by a fire. The memory of flashing blue eyes the colour of cornflowers started an ache inside him that suddenly made moving too quickly a hazard. He knew she was passionate and principled…if misguided…and she had been a totally responsive and highly provocative lover. He had not arranged for the coat to be sent as an insult in any way. He had certainly not sent it as payment for sexual services. He had most definitely sent it as a reason to speak to Sophie again.

When he’d woken up on Saturday morning and found her gone he’d barely been able to believe it. No woman had left him that way before…ever! Initially irked, he’d told himself she must have had some appointment to rush off to. Why else would she not have waited at least to say good morning? When he’d calmed down, and reflected on the sensational sex they’d enjoyed the night before, Dominic had also known that Sophie hadn’t left because they hadn’t hit it off together. Whatever her reasons for leaving, one thing he hadn’t doubted was that she would naturally want to see him again. Why wouldn’t she? When she rang him to thank him for the coat, as he’d fully expected her to do, Dominic had been planning on inviting her out for dinner. The sooner the better, as far as he was concerned, because he hadn’t been able to get the woman out of his mind. Which was why he had included a card with his home address and telephone number on.

‘How does accepting my gift make you beholden to me?’ If only it did, Dominic thought, in frustration. It had been a long while since a woman had commanded his attention in such an emphatic way. He probably just needed to go to bed with her a few more times, to get her out of his system, he acknowledged with typical male frankness. If she gave him the chance…

‘It just does.’

Suddenly tired of verbal sparring, and with her growling stomach letting her know that she hadn’t eaten a thing since lunchtime, Sophie had it in her mind to end their fruitless conversation there and then. Tomorrow she would send Dominic the coat back, and that would be that. Her time and her thoughts would surely be better served this evening in working out how she was going to afford another car to get to school in. She couldn’t rely on the vagaries of public transport. The head of the primary school in which she worked was a real stickler for punctuality, and Sophie knew it. It wouldn’t do to get on the wrong side of him and blot her so far unblemished record.

‘Anyway,’ she added, once more examining the print of the pretty ballerinas on the wall, ‘I’ll have to say goodnight. I’ve just got in from work, I’m tired and hungry, and I’ve got schoolwork to arrange for tomorrow.’

‘Schoolwork?’

‘I’m a teacher.’

‘Diana didn’t mention it.’

Not believing even for a second that a man so high up in the echelons of wealth and personal achievement would deign to discuss something as mundane as his assistant’s friends, with her, Sophie sighed. ‘Why should she? Goodbye, Dominic.’

‘Why did you rush off like that on Saturday morning?’

Sophie wished he would leave the subject of Saturday morning and specifically Friday night alone. She felt bad enough about succumbing to her baser instincts so recklessly, and with the most unsuitable man she could imagine!

‘You may find this hard to believe, Dominic, but I’m not the kind of woman who usually goes in for one-night stands. In fact, this was the first…and I hope the last one ever. It was an emotional day for me, and I—my judgement wasn’t at its best. You can rest assured I won’t be bothering you again in any way.’

Dominic doubted that. Just thinking about the way she had curled her slender legs around his back and driven her nails into his flesh, in the throes of passion made him almost too hot and bothered for words! And what did she mean her judgement hadn’t been at its best? Was she suggesting that making love with him had been a mistake? Now, that did hit at the heart of his pride.

‘If you won’t accept the coat, why don’t you bring it to my house instead of mailing it?’ Dominic suggested smoothly, his calm tone belying the myriad of feelings flooding through him.

Her senses hijacked by surprise and shock, Sophie bit down on her lip. ‘Bring it to your house?’ she repeated, not sure that she’d heard him correctly.

‘Tomorrow—after work. You have the address on my card?’

‘Why are you doing this, Dominic?’

‘I would like to talk to you about Diana,’ he replied.

‘Diana?’ Drawing her brows together in confusion, Sophie glanced down at the floor. Some of the maroon carpet tiles were curling at the edges and needed replacing. A sudden wave of irritation and uncharacteristic despondency briefly descended. She totally loved her job—teaching for Sophie was a vocation—but she wished not for the first time that it paid better and allowed her to maintain a slightly better standard of living.

‘I want to buy her a wedding present…something special. I thought perhaps you could advise me.’

Taken aback, Sophie really didn’t know what to say.

‘Well?’ Dominic prompted into the heavy silence that ensued.

‘Aren’t you supposed to buy a present in time for the actual event?’

‘I was away in Singapore on a business trip the week leading up to her wedding, so I did not get a chance to arrange a suitable gift for her.’

But he’d paid for her wedding breakfast just the same, Sophie reluctantly recalled. Diana had said he was generous. She immediately discarded the thought with irritation.

‘I’m sure you don’t need me to advise you what to buy Diana.’ She shrugged, wondering why he should suggest such a surprising thing when she had already professed herself insulted by his gift of the coat. She would have thought he’d be glad not to get himself further entangled with Diana’s ‘unsuitable’ friend.

‘You are her close friend. You know her tastes, her preferences. That information could help me a lot in choosing a gift she would really like.’ His voice was almost hypnotically persuasive, and Sophie couldn’t believe she was actually hesitating over her natural instinct to refuse.

She’d told herself that Friday night had probably meant nothing very much to a man like Dominic, other than sexual gratification with an available, attractive woman. She’d told herself she could handle it, despite feeling somehow ‘used’ when she received that beautiful coat as a gift. Now her feelings were all mixed up, and even more confused.

‘Isn’t there anyone else you could ask?’ Even as she uttered the question Sophie knew she was clutching at straws. Dammit! She was nervous about going to Dominic’s house. Who wouldn’t be? It wasn’t every day that an ordinary girl like her got invited to a billionaire’s home! Especially one she’d had a hot one-night stand with! She’d be nervous even if they hadn’t slept together.

‘Is it too much to ask that you might do this for your friend?’ Deftly and without remorse, Dominic slid home his advantage.

‘No. No, of course not. I’ll come, then. What time?’

‘I will send Louis to collect you at about eight o’clock. I will see you then, Sophie.’




CHAPTER THREE


DETERMINEDLY clutching the large box containing the coat she was returning, Sophie glanced nervously through the stained glass panels on the swish and elegant Regency front door, and willed the butterflies in her stomach to cease their incessant fluttering just for a moment.

She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Dominic Van Straten again one little bit. Right now she felt as if she’d voluntarily agreed to step up to the guillotine and have her head separated from her body. That was how much she hated the idea of even being here—no matter how beautiful or imposing the house in front of her, or how exclusive the address, or the fact that she’d just been transported there in a chauffeur-driven car.

Sophie could find no pleasure in any of it. She just wanted to return the damn coat and get out of there as fast as her legs could carry her. But when the door opened graciously before her eyes, and an elderly man dressed in a dark suit with neatly combed grey hair stood before her with a smile that was inordinately polite, she forced herself to speak and go forward.

‘Hello. I’m Sophie Dalton. I have—I have an appointment with Mr Van Straten.’

‘Of course. Please come in, Miss Dalton. Mr Van Straten is waiting for you in the drawing room. Shall I take your coat?’

Quickly unbuttoning it, while the man briefly held her package for her, Sophie wished she could have refused. But it seemed churlish and ignorant to be deliberately difficult with a man she’d never even met before, so she handed it to him and gratefully took back the package. Trying not to goggle at the magnificent entrance hall, with its elegant air of grace and opulence and its fine, grey-veined white marble floor, Sophie obediently allowed him to lead her to Dominic. After announcing her arrival at the entrance to the room, the manservant discreetly withdrew, and closed the doors behind her.

It didn’t take her long to locate the man she’d come to see. He was standing by the white marble fireplace, a drink in his hand, his lips slightly curving in a smile that appeared without question to be self-satisfied and slightly smug. What was he thinking? Was he gloating that he’d been able to persuade her to do as he’d asked?

Sophie almost retreated back the way she’d come. Although the room was gracious and elegant in the extreme, the most intimidating, magnetic element in it was Dominic himself. He was the pivot around which all that exceptionally good taste revolved. Even at the not inconsiderable distance between them she couldn’t fail to see that it was his very presence that marked their surroundings more than anything else.

As his emerald eyes examined her with cool detachment and, yes…perhaps arrogance, Sophie told herself she must have lost her mind to have come here. Wasn’t it enough that she’d shamed herself by sleeping with him the first day they had met? Was she really so eager to entertain even more embarrassment?

Feeling her lip quiver slightly with nerves, Sophie clamped down her teeth to quell it. ‘I brought the coat…like I—like I said I would,’ she announced, desperately trying to rescue her rapidly dwindling confidence.

‘So I see,’ he said.

An awkward silence descended. Sophie had just about decided to make her excuses and leave when Dominic put his glass down on the mantelpiece, moved away from the fireplace, and gestured towards the long white couch behind her. ‘Why don’t you sit down? We can discuss the coat later.’

‘There’s nothing to discuss. I don’t want it, so I’m returning it.’

Defiant, and determined not to let him get the better of her in any way, Sophie placed the box down on the glass table in front of her, and did not shy away from the definite irritation in his gaze that he directed back.

‘Nevertheless…I still think you should sit down. What can I get you to drink?’

She didn’t want a drink, and she didn’t want to sit down. All Sophie really wanted to do was leave. But, quelling her almost overwhelming desire to escape, she forced herself to sit down on the couch, and folded her hands neatly in front of her on her lap. Glancing around the beautiful room, with its exquisite antique furniture and imposing art on the walls, she was suddenly seized with uncharacteristic self-consciousness.

She hadn’t dressed up in any way, shape or form for this little interview with Dominic. She’d kept on what she’d worn to school that morning: a red V-necked wool sweater, and a black calf-length skirt with matching low-heeled boots. And she’d deliberately not fussed with her usual minimal make-up either. She hadn’t even reapplied her lipstick. There was no way that she was going to make Dominic imagine for one moment that she’d make any sort of effort with her appearance for his benefit. Sophie wasn’t interested in what the man thought about what she looked like, or even if he thought about it at all. The sooner they discussed what they had to discuss the sooner she could be out of there, and heading home again.

‘I’m fine,’ she replied coolly. ‘I had a cup of coffee before your chauffeur arrived to pick me up.’

‘I didn’t mean coffee. Will you have a Scotch or a brandy? It’s cold outside. It will help warm you up.’

Even as he said the words, Dominic doubted very much whether any amount of alcohol could effect a thaw in Little Miss Frigid sitting over there on his couch. He hadn’t expected this coldness after what had transpired between them on Friday night, and the fact that she clearly took no pleasure in either his company or his beautiful house seriously bothered him. Whatever people said about him, when he invited them into his home he wanted them to feel welcome.

Seeing her again, Dominic realised how much he’d been anticipating her visit. With her vivid blue eyes and her short, dark hair curling becomingly round her small ears, she was even prettier than he’d remembered—despite her frostiness towards him. And he couldn’t deny the warm little charge of electricity that was surging through him just by being in the same room with her. He’d thought he’d let his feverish imagination run away with him where Sophie’s appeal was concerned, but now he saw that he hadn’t. He just couldn’t understand this wild desire he was harbouring for a woman who was now displaying all the signs of complete uninterest and none of the passionate attraction she’d demonstrated on Friday. It certainly pricked his pride.

‘I’d rather not, thank you. You said you wanted to talk about a wedding gift for Diana?’

Reaching into the discreet side pocket in her skirt, Sophie withdrew a folded piece of paper and, getting to her feet, handed it to Dominic. ‘I’ve scribbled down some ideas that might help. Of course, not knowing what kind of budget you had in mind, my suggestions might be somewhat limited.’

A smile touching his lips at the mere idea of a ‘budget’, Dominic accepted the slip of paper and dropped it onto the table as if it barely concerned him at all. Seeing the gesture, Sophie felt her stomach execute an anxious cartwheel. Indignant that he hadn’t even glanced at what she’d written, she sat back down on the couch with definite trepidation.

‘You’re not even going to look at it?’

‘Later.’

What did he mean, ‘later’? Wasn’t that why he’d invited her round in the first place? To discuss ideas for a present?

‘About the coat…’ Dominic began.

Hot colour poured into Sophie’s cheeks. ‘What about it?’

‘Did you even try it on?’

She was ashamed to silently admit that she had. It had felt wonderful, too—a perfect fit. She’d loved the way the expensive fabric had swished round her legs and made her feel like a million dollars. But there was no way she was going to let him know that.

‘The point is, Mr Van Straten—’

He couldn’t believe she’d referred to him so formally. Why was she now trying to erect fences between them when they had already been so intimate?

‘Dominic. We surely know each other well enough to use first names?’ he interceded smoothly.

Startled blue eyes met slightly mocking green ones, then quickly glanced away again.

‘We hardly know each other at all! Despite…despite what happened between us. I told you on the phone that I couldn’t—wouldn’t—accept the coat. What happened, happened, and now we should both just forget about it. Diana is married and on her honeymoon, and hopefully having a good time. That’s all that matters now.’




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