Australia: In Bed with the Playboy: Hidden Mistress, Public Wife / The Secret Mistress / Claiming His Mistress

CHAPTER NINE

JORDAN concentrated fiercely on willing Ivy to agree. The idea that she had been playing a power game with him had been whittled away by the sheer length of time it had taken her to respond to his message. Her attitude today—everything about her—indicated that inspiring a chase had not been the intent behind absenting herself from his life. She was fighting the attraction between them with all her willpower.

Or was all this a clever act, designed to draw him more firmly into her female net?

She had turned up.

And was forcing him to argue for a chance with her.

Throw out the challenge…hook the man like he’d never been hooked before!

Her fascinating green eyes had savaged him, mocked him, transmitted hard unyielding judgement, but now they were strangely blank, focussed inward, giving no sign of what she was thinking.

He couldn’t deny his many affairs—most of them very short-lived. Ivy had plenty of reason to believe she would be no more than a brief addition to the long list. It could actually turn out that way. He wasn’t about to promise it wouldn’t. How could he know, at this stage, how long the attraction would last, whether familiarity would eventually breed contempt, as it so often had with other women?

All he knew was his gut was in knots, waiting for her reply. And that hadn’t happened before. None of it had…sensing her presence before he even saw her, the mule-kick to his heart when his instincts had proved correct, the intense flare of desire which owed nothing to her outward appearance which was obviously meant to express lack of interest in him.

He was hooked.

But that didn’t mean he was caught.

The instant zing between them told him she wasn’t immune to what they had shared. He had to tap into that again, make her want what he wanted. Regardless of what was going on in her mind, Jordan was determined on drawing her into his net. Even more so now that she was here with him.

‘Would you like a cup of coffee while you think about it?’ he asked, intent on forcing her into active communication.

The blank shield on her eyes snapped open to reveal deep wells of vulnerability—a host of fears swirling through wishful possibilities. ‘Yes,’ she said huskily, sucking in a quick breath to firm up her voice. ‘Cappucino, please.’

He signalled a waitress, ordered two coffees and a plate of toasted sandwiches to tempt Ivy into eating. There was nothing like sharing food to put people more at ease with their company, and it seemed—from the wildly swimming look in her eyes—that Ivy was wound up in an emotional dilemma about becoming more involved with him.

Unless she was a brilliant actress.

He was reminded of what Margaret had said…I wouldn’t like it if you hunted her down and hurt her.

He had hunted her, with good reason, Jordan told himself. Nevertheless, being hurt by him could be high on the list of fears in Ivy’s mind. A playboy…

To him it was a pragmatic lifestyle, given his circumstances. He was quite happy going along for a ride, hated the idea of being taken for one. He was beginning to think this was a different situation with Ivy, more a journey of discovery than the usual ride.

Her lashes had swept down, hiding her thoughts again. He leaned forward, pressing for her attention. ‘Ivy, you’re not a trophy woman to me.’

The green eyes flashed wildly amused sparks at him as she burst into a peal of laughter. ‘Anyone seeing us together today would think you had rocks in your head to consider me one, Jordan.’

He relaxed into a laugh himself. ‘Which proves my point. I want your company, regardless of trappings.’

‘Mmmh…’ She cocked her head consideringly. ‘I’d have to say I enjoyed your company, too. Though I’m not sure how well that would wear over time. I don’t think we have much in common.’

Oh, yes they did! Fantastic sex together. Unforgettably fantastic!

Maybe she read that thought in his eyes. A tide of heat whooshed up her neck and burned her cheeks. She wriggled in her chair, probably discomforted by an attack of hormones charged-up with the same memories he had. He had to shift a bit himself to accommodate his own charged up anatomy. If they weren’t in a public place…but the sex hadn’t kept her with him last time. He had to make more inroads into her psyche.

He tried a disarming smile. ‘I like it that you don’t see me as a trophy.’

That was a good, testing line.

She shot it down in flames, instantly firing derision at it. ‘Too tarnished by a lot of careless wear.’

‘I care about you,’ he shot back at her, throwing all cynical caution aside. ‘We have something special going between us. Too special to dismiss. I’ve never waited for a woman as I’ve waited for you. And don’t tell me you don’t feel it, too, because you do, Ivy. This is us and it’s not like anything in the past. Face it. Give it a chance. It might be the best thing either of us could ever have.’

A chance…

Yes.

Ivy’s whole body yearned to feel again the pleasure he could give her and the intensity he was transmitting made his arguments too persuasive for her to fight any further. It had been special. Unique for her as well as him. Of course there was no guarantee it would last but what guarantee could be attached to any relationship these days?

‘How do you see it working?’ she blurted out.

He leaned forward eagerly. ‘We could start with weekends. This weekend.’

Her heart instantly kicked into a gallop. She hadn’t come ready for this. ‘I didn’t bring anything with me. And I’m still not on the pill.’

‘You don’t need anything. I don’t want to share you with anyone. Not today or tomorrow. And I’ll take care of protection while you’re arranging your own.’

Panic seized her. This decision felt too rushed. ‘You forgot last time.’

‘I promise you, I won’t forget again.’

No, he wouldn’t, not after being worried about getting her pregnant. Having a child with her was not on his agenda. It might never be. She had to think of this as a trial period and not get too…too…stuck on him. He’d been a playboy for so long, it was best if she didn’t let herself believe their affair might turn out any different to his previous relationships. All she was committing herself to was giving it a chance.

She eyed him with fierce intensity. ‘Don’t send me any roses. Ever!’

‘Sending them to your mother did bring us back together. It got the right result, Ivy,’ he reminded her seriously.

‘I don’t mean them!’ she said in emphatic dismissal. ‘I mean the roses you send as a matter of rote to all the women who have held your interest for a while.’

He frowned, puzzled by her knowledge of intimate details of his past affairs.

Ivy gritted her teeth and revealed the truth. ‘You order them from me, Jordan. It’s my rose farm you deal with over the Internet. From this moment on, I’m writing you off as a client. When it’s over with me and you find someone else, find yourself another rose source. Okay?’

He looked totally gobsmacked.

Ivy didn’t care. Involving herself with Jordan meant there was no way of continuing to hide her business and she simply couldn’t bear the idea of him resuming his Rose Valentino modus operandi with other women in the future. Not through her farm anyway.

The waitress arrived at their table with their coffees and the plate of toasted sandwiches. Ivy was too churned up to eat anything but she was grateful for the coffee. It was hot and sweet and strong and her shredded nerves needed soothing. She sipped it, covertly watching Jordan gradually recover from his shock and wondering how he would react to her revelation.

It was actually a good test of his feelings towards her. He wanted honesty. She’d just laid it out to him. He didn’t reach for a sandwich or his coffee. He sat completely still, eyes lowered, a pensive expression on his face, probably reflecting on how much business he’d done with her farm over the years.

‘I see,’ he finally murmured, an ironic tilt to his perfectly sculptured mouth. Twin blue laser beams targeted Ivy’s eyes. ‘I now understand how sceptical you must have been over my intentions and how reluctant you still are to get involved with me. But you’re here thinking about it, and I’m here fighting for a chance with you because we connected so strongly we’d always wonder what might have been if we didn’t pursue it. That’s the truth of it, isn’t it, Ivy? The honest truth.’

‘For me, yes,’ she answered, her own mouth quirking with irony as she added, ‘Where you’re concerned, it requires a leap of faith I’m not sure I can make.’

He nodded. ‘Make it. Take the risk. It’s worth a try.’ He flashed her a dazzling smile. ‘Remember how good it was. Think how good it can be again.’

She hoped it would be, because the decision was already made. The buzz of anticipation was in her blood and she was no longer physically capable of backing away from this man.

He made a flip-flop gesture, unsure of where she was at. ‘You can always end it if I let you down.’

She smiled, her eyes mocking the off-hand offer. ‘I don’t think you’re too good at accepting an end you don’t want, Jordan. My mother can testify to that.’

‘But I hadn’t let you down, Ivy,’ he reminded her. ‘You just assumed I would. Let’s be fair now.’

She laughed, giddy with the sense of taking an even more dangerous step with this man. ‘Okay. I promise I’ll be fair.’

One black eyebrow arched in appeal. ‘No harking back to my past?’

‘I’ll take you as I find you until you do let me down.’

‘Done!’ His hand smacked down on the table in triumphant satisfaction as he rose from his chair, emitting an electric energy that sent Ivy’s pulse zooming into overdrive. ‘Take me to wherever you’ve parked your car,’ he commanded, his eyes blazing with the desire to move her with him to a far less public place.

The car…images of wild sex bloomed in Ivy’s mind, flustering her into a hot flush. She waved at the plate of sandwiches in a rush of agitation. ‘What about this?’

‘Not what I’m hungry for. Are you?’

‘No.’ Impossible to eat anything with lustful thoughts running riot and there was no point in delaying what she’d decided to do. ‘You haven’t paid,’ she said, trying to sound in some control of herself as she pushed up from her chair.

He took out his wallet, removed a fifty-dollar note, anchored it on the table under the sugar bowl, then reached for her hand. She gave it to him, consciously feeling every sensation of his touch: the power of the fingers entwining hers, the tingling pleasure from the rub of his flesh, the seductive caress of his thumb. Why he, of all men, could evoke this acute sexual excitement in her, she didn’t know, but strangely enough it was a relief to simply surrender to it.

‘The elevator,’ she directed. ‘Level two of the basement car park.’

They walked together, moving like an arrow of purpose that could not be diverted. The crowd of shoppers milled around them, no one blocking their path even minimally. Ivy was barely aware of other people. The connection to the man beside her virtually obliterated everything else.

Worries wormed their way through her mind. Had she given in too easily? Was she a fool for giving in at all? Were there other things she could have said, should have said before letting him lead her back into his life? Was there any real possibility of a relationship with Jordan developing into something solid?

Yet…did any of that matter when he could make her feel like this?

They reached the elevator just as its doors opened. A family—mother, father, child in a pram—stepped out, an ordinary family, what Ivy had hoped to have herself. Nothing with Jordan was going to be ordinary. Was she totally mad to involve herself with him?

They moved into the elevator. No one followed them. Jordan pressed the button for L2. The doors closed. They were alone together in the small compartment. Jordan erupted into action, scooping her into his embrace, kissing her with a hunger that found an instant, overwhelming response. Weeks—a whole month of repression burst under a wild surge of need to taste him again, feel him again, have him stoke the excitement that made everything else irrelevant.

Their mouths meshed in feverish passion. Their hands seized, travelled, pressed, dragged, dug in, feeding the fierce desire to take possession. They were so immersed in each other, they didn’t notice the elevator coming to a halt, its doors sliding open.

‘Sorry to interrupt you guys, but…’

The voice brought them back to earth with a heart-thumping shock.

‘Right,’ Jordan muttered, and swept Ivy past the amused onlooker into the cavernous car park.

Her legs were wobbly. She tried to catch a breath, get her wits in order, orientate herself enough to find her car. ‘Where’s yours?’ she asked.

‘My what?’

He looked as distracted as she felt. ‘Your car.’

He shook his head. ‘Didn’t bring one. Had Ray drop me off.’

‘Who’s Ray?’

He stopped, sucked in a deep breath, obviously regathering himself as he turned to face her, lightly grasping her upper arms, the blue eyes boring into hers, his voice gruff with emotion. ‘Are you okay, Ivy? You’re not about to do another runner on me?’

‘No.’ Tearing herself away from him now was unthinkable. She wanted him too much. When or if he let her down…somehow she would deal with the fallout. Until then…she summoned up a shaky smile. ‘Though let’s not lose our heads again. At least, not here.’

His smile poured out relief and reassurance. ‘I can wait a bit longer. And to answer your question, Ray is my handyman and he’ll drive in to pick me up at two o’clock if not instructed otherwise. We can be home before he leaves if we go in your car.’

‘Okay.’ She opened her shoulder-bag to get out the keys. ‘It’s probably better if you drive. You’re more familiar with the route to Balmoral.’ Besides which, it was doubtful she could concentrate on the road.

He released her arms to take the keys, dryly commenting, ‘It will make it easier to keep my hands off you.’

She laughed, giddily light-hearted with the tense burden of decision lifted. A quick glance around located her car and she hooked her arm around his to haul him in the right direction. ‘This way. And we both need to exercise some care, Jordan.’

‘Don’t worry. I will take care of you, Ivy. In every sense there is.’

That was a big promise. Ivy wasn’t sure she believed it. But she was willing to take this journey with him. It was probably an Alice in Wonderland kind of adventure and one day she would wake up from it. She hoped she would be able to treasure the good, shake off the bad and remember it as a risk that had been worth taking.

CHAPTER TEN

AT the first red traffic light Jordan whipped out his mobile phone, making a quick call to his handyman who promptly answered.

‘No need to come, Ray. I’m heading home now in Ivy’s car. Would you please tell Margaret it will be dinner for two tonight. Maybe a late lunch, as well.’

‘Will do. And…uh…congratulations, boss.’

‘Thanks, Ray,’ Jordan said dryly, aware that his campaign to make contact with Ivy was well known to his household staff, with conflicting degrees of support. Ray had been rooting for him to win while Margaret reserved judgement on the outcome.

He closed the phone and slid it back into his shirt pocket, throwing a glance at Ivy to check all was well with her before turning his attention back to the bank-up of traffic waiting for the light to change. ‘Why are you frowning?’ he asked, wanting to wipe the tense expression from her face.

She heaved a sigh and shot him an anxious look. ‘Your housekeeper…I guess she’s seen a lot of women come and go in your life, Jordan. It’s just kind of embarrassing. I know I shouldn’t care what she thinks, but…’

‘Don’t worry.’ He grinned as he reached across and gave her hand a quick reassuring squeeze. ‘Margaret likes you. In fact, I have a strong suspicion I’ll be damned to perdition if I don’t treat you right.’

‘How could she like me?’ Ivy queried in amazement. ‘I only spoke to her for a few minutes. And that was when…well, it was obvious I’d spent the night with you.’

‘Oh, I got the blame for that…having my wicked way with a nice girl.’

‘How does she know I’m a nice girl?’

‘According to Margaret, you have beautiful manners. Believe me, as long as you treat her with respect, you’ll get the same respect back. Respect and honesty are Margaret’s prime standards. Cross those lines and you’re in her black books. An honest bit of sex between a man and a woman does not worry her one bit. Okay?’

Ivy relaxed, a happy relief in her smile. ‘Okay. She sounds like quite a character.’

‘She is. Hiring her was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.’

And Jordan had the strong feeling that pursuing Ivy had been one of his best decisions, too.

The car behind them honked—a warning that the light had turned green and the traffic was moving again. Satisfied that he’d removed any fretting from Ivy’s mind, Jordan drove on, revelling in the anticipation of having her to himself for the rest of the weekend, which gave him plenty of time to sort out any other concerns she might have about being involved with him.

It was highly vexing to find his sister’s silver Porsche parked in the driveway of his Balmoral home. Apart from the fact that he didn’t want any visitors taking his attention away from Ivy, Olivia was a self-centred snob whose manner could be very off-putting to anyone who wasn’t used to her. Besides, she wouldn’t be here unless she wanted him to fix something for her, which meant she’d want his undivided attention.

‘Damn!’ he muttered as he brought Ivy’s car to a halt behind the Porsche.

‘You have a visitor?’ Ivy enquired, a wary look on her face.

‘My sister, who only drops in on me when she has some problem to unload, so I won’t be able to get rid of her until I hear her out.’

‘If it’s a private problem, Jordan, she won’t want a stranger listening in.’

‘No, she won’t.’ He grimaced an apologetic appeal. ‘Would you mind very much chatting to Margaret while I deal with it? I’ll ask her to make you some lunch. Or you could browse through the newspaper. I’m sorry. This is an awkward start, not what I…’

‘It’s okay,’ she quickly assured him. ‘Family should come first, especially if there’s a problem.’

He heaved a sigh of frustration. ‘Olivia makes trouble for herself. My father spoiled her terribly…his little princess. Don’t be upset if she’s dismissive of you. It won’t be personal. She’ll just be so full of herself, no one else counts.’

The green eyes filled with wry self-mockery. ‘Well, I don’t count for anything in her life.’

‘You do in mine,’ he said emphatically, feeling the question mark over his involvement with her and hating it. He turned in his seat to reach out and cup her cheek, his eyes boring into hers with forceful intensity. ‘You do in mine, Ivy. Give me time and I’ll prove that to you.’

He kissed her, wanting their desire for each other to obliterate everything else, leave no room for doubts. Excitement surged through him at her fierce response. She didn’t want to doubt him. She wanted to lose herself in the same passion he felt. It was hell having to restrain himself to a kiss when he was so hungry for her. He mentally cursed his sister for being an obstacle to the rampant urge to sweep Ivy straight up to his bedroom. A month of waiting and still he had to wait.

‘Later,’ he promised, breathing the word against her lips as he forced himself to break the kiss. ‘You have to meet my sister now, Ivy.’

‘Yes,’ she whispered huskily.

He had to fight down his reluctance to separate himself from her, move away. It took an act of will to curb the rebellious needs of his body and alight from the car, taking the steps demanded by Olivia’s unwelcome presence in his home. Ivy swayed a little as he helped her from the passenger seat. He tucked her arm around his for the walk inside, governed by the strong instinct to support and protect his woman.

His…

Strange…he couldn’t remember feeling actually possessive of a woman before. Probably it was the long waiting that had made him uncertain of having Ivy again. And that was yet to happen. Olivia had better behave herself, he thought grimly. If she gave Ivy any cause to skip out on him…

‘There you are!’

The words were flung at him the moment he and Ivy entered the foyer—Olivia emerging from the lounge, a highball glass in hand, obviously in a state of intoxication, her usual perfect grooming having taken a slide today: eye make-up smudged, her shoulder-length hair dishevelled, silk blouse crumpled, linen trousers badly creased.

She had the same blue eyes and black hair he did. Tall and voluptuously curved, she could and usually did make a striking impact on people, but she was not about to make a good impression on Ivy at this meeting. He closed the front door behind him, eyeing his sister with stern displeasure. Getting drunk didn’t fix anything, and driving a car while over the alcohol limit was downright irresponsible, let alone illegal. Not acknowledging Ivy’s presence and addressing him as though he’d put her out by his absence was more than he could tolerate.

‘Why are you here, Olivia?’ he threw back at her.

She ignored the question, eyeing Ivy up and down with a supercilious look on her face. ‘Who is this? Taking up with Cinderellas now, are you, Jordan? Been through the whole socialite pack?’

‘Keep a civil tongue or go,’ he said cuttingly. ‘I don’t have any patience for your rudeness today.’

‘Sorry. I just haven’t seen her before,’ she rolled out with a shrug. ‘Will I recognise the name?’

‘Ivy. Ivy Thornton. Unfortunately, I have no pleasure at all in introducing you, Olivia.’

‘Tough!’ She sneered. ‘I’m family and you can’t get rid of family. The good old tie of blood is always there. Whereas Ivy…no doubt she will turn into Poison Ivy in due course. They invariably do, don’t they?’

She was right, but due course hadn’t been run yet, and he wasn’t about to let Olivia spark off another bout of resistance from Ivy when he’d just brought her to the starting line. ‘You’ve been warned!’ he threw at his sister, stepping back to open front door. ‘I’ll call Ray to drive you home.’