Sultry Nights: Mistress to the Merciless Millionaire / The Savakis Mistress / Ruthless Tycoon, Inexperienced Mistress

Kate’s hackles had risen—and a sense of having made a monumental error. ‘Well, I’m not every other woman out there, and I can afford to dress myself—thank you all the same.’

Her mind returned to the present, but with a lingering aftertaste of the jealousy she’d felt when he’d alluded to dressing other women. She forced it from her mind. She was well aware that she was going to be the latest in a long line of Tiarnan Quinn’s conquests. He was nothing if not discreet about his lovers, and Kate knew that was to protect Rosie—but, coming from the world she came from, she was well aware of the gossip that told of the countless beauties he’d bedded over the years, all of whom had been left with extravagantly generous gifts. Kate vowed there and then that she would not be the same. No trinket, no matter how expensive, would be lavished on her at the end of this. Even the thought of it made her burn with humiliation.

She finally focused on the clothes in front of her again. What did one wear to dinner with the man who’d stolen your heart for what felt like all your life? Kate felt the colour drain from her face and she pressed a hand to her chest, feeling suddenly constricted. He hadn’t stolen her heart. He hadn’t. How could he have? She’d had a teenage crush that had culminated in the single most shattering moment of her life. That was all. She hadn’t spent enough time with him to fall in love with him. That night had ripped away any rose-tinted views she might have had of love. And she certainly hadn’t come close since.

She couldn’t love someone like Tiarnan. He was too hard, too forceful. Too obviously driven to succeed—like her father. She’d always pictured herself with someone kind, gentle … unassuming.

This was just going to be a brief interlude. A completion of something that she had started a long time ago. She was doing this so that she could move on with her life and banish Tiarnan Quinn from all the corners of her mind in which he still lingered. She wasn’t in love with him, she was in lust. That was all.

The constriction in her chest eased, Kate breathed deep. And finally managed to choose something to wear.

When she came downstairs and approached the door leading out to the wooden terrace at the back of the house a short while later, she could hear Tiarnan’s deep rumble of a voice and Mama Lucille’s infectious belly laugh. Kate felt unaccountably self-conscious all over again, and resisted the urge to smooth sweaty palms on the dress she’d chosen. It was plain and simple, as only the best designer clothes could be. She’d picked out something that helped her to feel covered up—a deep royal blue silk maxi-dress. She knew how lucky she was that because of her profession she’d never lacked for beautiful clothes, and she was glad of the armour now—as if she could somehow project an image that Tiarnan would be familiar with: an elegant and nonchalant lover.

But when she took a deep breath and walked out Tiarnan looked up. His eyes locked onto hers, and she immediately felt undressed, despite the ankle-length dress, and regretted pulling her hair back into a low ponytail, wishing she had it loose, to cover her face. The silk seemed to cling and caress her body with indecent eagerness. All nonchalance fled and the churning turmoil was back with a vengeance as every step brought her closer and closer to that glittering blue gaze that swept up and down her body, leaving what felt like a trail of fire in its wake.

For a second, as Kate walked towards him, Tiarnan’s brain went completely blank and every coherent thought was replaced with heat. She was a vision in blue silk that seemed to waft around her body and yet cling to every curve with a lover’s touch. He looked down, and his chest tightened with an indefinable emotion when he saw that her feet were bare. The heat in his brain intensified, and only Mama Lucille pointedly clearing her throat stopped him from turning into a drooling speechless idiot. Some of the most beautiful women in the world had appeared similarly dressed before him, for his pleasure, yet they had never had this paralysing effect on him. He managed to stand just as Kate got to the table, her delicate scent reaching his nostrils as he pulled out her chair and she sat down with a warm smile directed at Mama Lucille.

Her colour was high and she was avoiding his eye, making Tiarnan feel unaccountably flustered. He ignored Mama Lucille’s explicit look, which seemed to bore a hole in his head, and thankfully she bustled off with her young assistant in tow.

Kate struggled to get her heartbeat and her breathing under control. The dress which had felt so appropriate now felt like the most inappropriate thing she could have chosen. When she felt sufficiently calm she flicked a glance to Tiarnan. He was staring at her with hooded eyes. Against her volition, her eyes dropped, taking in the snowy-white shirt, open at the neck, and the dark trousers. His hair was damp, as if he’d showered not long ago, and Kate could feel heat climbing upwards over her chest. She grabbed her napkin and clung onto it, twisting it under the table.

‘Where’s Rosie?’

Tiarnan’s eyes didn’t move from hers. ‘She came back here earlier with Zoe, for dinner with Mama Lucille. Zoe’s mother, Anne-Marie, collected them just before you came down. She’s spending the night at their place. It’s something of a tradition. She’ll be back in the morning.’

Kate looked down for a moment. They were alone all night? Her heart was thudding heavily, unevenly. Right then she wished for Rosie’s comforting presence, even with the tension between father and daughter. ‘She’s having fun, then …’

Tiarnan nodded. ‘Yes. She’s surrounded by people who love her like their own, and it’s important for her to have that while she’s determined to reject me.’

Kate looked at him, unable not to, touched deeply by his concern that Rosie feel loved even while she was determined not to accept love from him. In her experience parents either ignored their children or resented them. And yet he was doing his utmost to make sure Rosie was secure.

‘You’re a good father, Tiarnan.’ She cursed herself for sounding so husky and trite. And cursed herself again when she could feel that armour she’d put up around herself crumble ever so slightly. In an instant he had smashed aside her assertion that he was a man like her father—too career-orientated to care about his daughter.

To her relief Mama Lucille returned with a steaming bowl, followed by Eloise, the girl who’d helped with the luggage and who Mama Lucille now introduced as one of her older granddaughters. Kate got up instinctively to help, but Mama Lucille ordered her to, ‘Sit! Let us serve you now.’

Kate watched as more plates arrived, with what looked like an impressive array of fish and roasted vegetables and rice and potatoes and salad. Her eyes were wide, watching as Tiarnan poured white wine into glasses so cold they still had mist on them.

‘I’ve never seen so much food in my life.’

He took her plate and proceeded to heap it high with the succulent food, saying drily, ‘Don’t tell me you’re one of these women who prefer to push a lettuce leaf around your plate and watch it wither and die rather than eat it?’

‘No,’ Kate said quickly, taking the plate he handed her. ‘I couldn’t think of anything worse. My problem has never been lack of appetite, it’s stopping myself eating.’ She grimaced for a second. ‘Unfortunately, unlike your sister and presumably you too, I can’t eat everything around me and stay the same size. All I eat has to come off again.’

Tiarnan fought down the urge to let his eyes rove over her curves. She was right. Where Sorcha was lean and athletic, Kate had a more natural voluptuousness, a sexy lushness. He picked up his glass and waited for Kate to do the same.

Kate was intensely aware of the way the dusk was claiming the setting sun, turning the sky smoky mauve. The breeze was warm and the sound of the sea came from nearby. Small flaming lights nearby lit up the table and surrounding area. It was idyllic.

Tiarnan held up his glass and said, ‘I thought it would be nicer to eat out here. I hope it’s not too rustic for you?’

Kate shook her head, mesmerised, and picked up her glass. ‘It’s perfect. I love it.’

He touched his glass to hers and it made the most subtle chime.

‘Welcome, Kate, and bon appetit.’

‘Bon appetite,’ she mumbled, her face flaming, and she took a quick sip of the deliciously dry wine.

Tiarnan made sure she had everything she needed, and then proceeded to fill up his own plate impressively. Kate didn’t doubt for a second that a man like him would have a huge appetite. When she thought of that, the heat which had begun to recede surged back. She groaned inwardly and then groaned out loud as she tasted a langoustine and it nearly melted on her tongue with an explosion of exquisite tastes.

‘This,’ she said, when she could. ‘Is amazing.’

Tiarnan smiled and nodded. ‘Mama Lucille’s cooking is legendary. She’s had countless offers to work for others, even from the best restaurants here on Martinique, but she’s turned them all down.’

Kate smiled too, and picked up her wine glass. ‘And no doubt you keep her very well … compensated?’

He inclined his head modestly. ‘But of course. I look after everyone I love.’

Kate’s heart clenched, and she speared some more food to distract him from what might be in her expression. Was he also talking about the way he compensated his lovers so well? Did he, on some level, love them all too? In that easy superficial way that some men did? Only to let them go easily when they got too clingy? Was he capable of truly falling in love?

‘What about you, Kate? Would you like children some day? You’re good with Rosie—you seem to have a natural affinity …’

She just about managed not to choke on her wine, and put down the glass carefully, a little blindsided by his swift change of subject. Normally, with such a question from someone else, her natural inclination to reply honestly that she’d never wanted anything more would make answering easy. But here, now, with Tiarnan, she had to protect herself.

She shrugged one shoulder and looked down. ‘Yes, I’ve thought of it. What woman my age doesn’t?’ Her voice was light, unconcerned, but her womb seemed to contract as she battled a sudden vivid image of holding a dark-haired baby in her arms, Tiarnan’s head coming close to press a kiss against the downy, sweet-smelling skin.

In complete dismay at her wayward imagination, and in rejection of that image, she looked up almost defiantly, feeling brittle. ‘But not yet. I’m not ready to be tied down. I’m sure it’ll happen some day, though, when I meet the right person.’

Tiarnan lounged back. Kate could imagine his long legs stretched out easily under the table. In comparison she felt incredibly uptight and tense.

‘And you haven’t met the right person yet, I take it?’

‘Well, I’d hardly be here now if I had, would I?’ She cursed herself for letting him get to her, making her sound snappy. Tiarnan’s eyes had become assessing. Looking deep.

He shrugged too. ‘I wouldn’t know, Kate. To be honest, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least. Let’s just say that in my experience women are perennially unsatisfied—either with themselves or their lives—and will do whatever it takes to relieve their boredom.’

‘That’s a very cynical view to have.’

He shrugged and took a sip of wine. ‘When the first relationship you witness has deep flaws, it tends to colour everything else.’

Kate’s prickliness dissolved in an instant. ‘I know your parents didn’t … get on.’

Tiarnan’s mouth tightened. ‘To put it mildly. I don’t have to tell you what it was like … But if none of that had happened I wouldn’t have Sorcha for a sister.’

Kate said quietly, ‘The fact that your mother took Sorcha in as her own was pretty selfless.’

He made a rejecting motion with his hand. ‘A selfless act which drove the wedge between her and my father, and ultimately Sorcha too, even deeper. My mother was—still is—a devout Catholic. She took Sorcha in more out of a sense of religious duty than anything else.’

They both fell silent for a moment, very aware of how that had caused such pain and hurt to Sorcha when she had found out. Kate knew instinctively that there was very little likelihood that Tiarnan would discuss this with anyone else—it was just because of who she was, and the fact that she knew already. Any intimacy she was feeling now was false.

Something rose up within Kate, compelling her to say quietly, ‘I do believe, though, that it’s possible.’

‘That what’s possible?’

‘For people to be happy. I mean, look at Sorcha and Romain; they’re happy.’

Tiarnan’s face looked unbearably harsh in the flickering light of the candles for a moment. ‘Yes, they are.’ He sounded almost surprised, and then his voice became hard. ‘I, however, learnt my lesson a long time ago. I indulged in the dream for a brief moment and saw the ugliest part of women’s machinations, and how far they’re prepared to go to feather their nest.’

Kate’s heart clenched. He was talking about Stella, of course—and every other woman too, it would appear, by proxy.

Tiarnan looked into his wine glass, tension gripping him. He cursed himself again for allowing this woman to loosen his tongue, and forced down the tension. He looked up and caught Kate’s eye, allowed himself to dive into the deep blue depths. He saw her exactly as she was: a woman of the world, successful, confident, single. Not afraid to take what she wanted. She was like him. Immediately he felt on a more even keel. He snaked out a hand and caught hers, revelling in the contact, the way her skin felt so warm and firm and silky. Revelling in the sensual anticipation.

‘For people like us, however, things are different … We won’t be caught like that, seduced by some empty dream.’

Kate’s heart clenched so hard at that she had to hold in a gasp. She stung inside that he believed her to be the same as him. Ironically enough, out of his sister and Kate, Sorcha had been the more cynical of the two, constantly teasing Kate for her innate romantic streak, for her maternal instinct. Sorcha had been the one with the high walls of defence erected around her, and Romain had been the only man capable of gaining her trust, opening her heart …

Yet, despite her own largely loveless upbringing, Kate had somehow emerged clinging onto those maternal instincts and that romantic dream. And a very secret part of her was still doggedly clinging onto it, despite witnessing the cynicism of the man to whom she was willingly, stupidly planning to give herself, in the hope that perhaps it would cure her of this obsession. The fact that he believed her to be as jaded as he was surely had to be in her favour? Protection for when she would walk away? He would believe her to be in one piece, unmoved, moving on with blithe disregard to her next lover. And she would be, she told herself fiercely now. She’d be blithe if it killed her.

She wanted to ask him about his wife—ask if she’d managed to break through his cynical wall to make him believe in love for a brief moment. But even if she had, considering how she had deceived him about Rosie, it could only have reaffirmed his beliefs, made them even more entrenched.

Kate forced down all her questions and leaned forward to start eating again, even though her appetite seemed to have vanished. She smiled brilliantly.

‘Well, then, we can rest easy in the protection such beliefs can offer us: no expectation, no disappointment.’

The words seemed to score through her heart like a serrated knife, they so went against her own personal philosophy. A philosophy she couldn’t share with Tiarnan.

Tiarnan smiled lazily, eyes narrowed on hers. ‘A kindred spirit. I couldn’t have put it better.’

As Kate forced herself to eat and sip the wine, engage in conversation that moved away from darker topics, she told herself that at least now she was under no illusion that some kind of fairytale would happen here. Tiarnan was utterly content with his life and there was no way he was going to let in Kate to shake things up.

The plates were gone, Mama Lucille had bade them goodnight, and Kate had kissed her in thanks for the meal, making the older woman look embarrassed but happy. Papa Joe, her handsome husband, had come to collect her to walk her home. Being bowed with age didn’t diminish his charm. He seemed as naturally friendly and happy as his wife, and they heard them laughing and conversing loudly in local French patois all the way down the garden path. Witnessing their happiness made Kate’s conversation with Tiarnan over dinner feel all the more unbearably poignant.

The heavy perfumed air was alive with the sounds of insects. Kate felt almost painfully sensitive to everything. All too aware of what she yearned for and what she was prepared to settle for with Tiarnan. He reached out and took her hand, and predictably she tensed.

‘You don’t seem very relaxed.’ He stated the obvious.

Kate shrugged and forced down her tangled thoughts of yearning. ‘Despite what you might believe, I’m not used to being whisked halfway across the world to become a rich man’s mistress for a few days.’

Tiarnan’s jaw clenched. She kept talking about the time limit. And she certainly wasn’t just a rich man’s mistress. She was going to be his lover. Her words over dinner, her reassurance that she was like him, should be making him feel at ease, confident, and yet they weren’t. Not entirely. He didn’t trust her. And he didn’t know why that rankled. What woman did he trust? He was used to not trusting women.

He drove away the questions. He had no need to question anything. Kate Lancaster was here, his for now, and that was all that mattered. They were wasting time. He studied her downbent head, the gleaming blonde hair, the satin smooth skin of her bared shoulders under the straps of her dress, the swell of her breasts … and he knew just how to drive away those thoughts, the tenseness which made ambiguous feelings run through him.

Tiarnan kept a hold of her hand and stood, tugging her up with him. Kate’s eyes met his and the world seemed to stop turning momentarily. ‘I know just what we need.’

‘You do?’

Kate’s voice came out like a squeak. She cursed her inability to sound insouciant when she needed to. He nodded, and started to walk back into the house, taking her with him, his grip strong and sure. Her legs felt like jelly. Panic started to rise up, strangling her. She had to tell him, had to say something. He thought she was something she wasn’t …

‘Tiarnan, I—’

He turned and pressed a finger to her lips.

‘I’m taking you out.’

Confusion cut through the panic. The scarily vivid images of their naked limbs entwined on his bed faded.

‘What? Where?’

He looked at her for a long moment, and then just said, ‘Dancing.’

Kate’s hand was still in Tiarnan’s as he led them into a dimly lit bar not too far from the house. A throbbing pulsing beat of music enveloped them instantly, along with the heat of bodies and muted conversations.

He’d waited till she had put on some shoes and had obviously made a call, as an open-top Jeep with a smiling driver had been waiting for them outside the villa. He led her to the bar now, only letting go of her hand to put an arm around her waist and draw her in close. Kate saw the bartender spot him and come over with a huge smile on his face.

‘Tiarnan, my man! It’s good to see you.’ The barman’s openly curious and very flirty glance took Kate in with blatant appreciation.

She felt embarrassed, and very out of her depth. Tiarnan kept surprising her at every turn, and the thought that he might have read her trepidation and done this to somehow make things easier for her made her feel vulnerable.

‘And your beautiful guest …’

For the first time in his life Tiarnan felt the intense spiking of jealousy as his old friend Luc looked Kate up and down with what seemed to be insulting impunity. He’d noticed every other man’s head swivelling too, as they’d walked into the bar. Kate stood out like a magnificent bird of paradise.

Resisting the unfathomable urge to walk straight back out again, he forced himself to sound civil and say, ‘Luc, good to see you too. We’ll have two of your best rums.’

He looked down at Kate and was surprised to see her looking almost … self-conscious. He tugged her in closer and she looked up, a flare of colour racing across her cheekbones.

‘Is that OK?’

Kate felt almost disembodied, looking up into Tiarnan’s eyes. ‘Is what OK?’

‘Martinique rum—you should try it.’

She just nodded, still barely aware of what he was saying. Their solicitous host insisted on showing them over to a secluded booth with a view over the faded grandeur of the bar, which was open to the street, and the dark inkiness of the sea in the distance. They were in the ground floor of an old colonial building. The crowd were local, the music was a kind of sexy upbeat Salsa. And then it changed smoothly to something slow and very hot. Some of the couples on the dance floor certainly looked as if they were just moments away from disappearing to a dark corner where—

Kate willed down the intense blush she could feel on her face as she looked at the couples, and just then Tiarnan’s hand cupped her jaw, turning her to face him. She felt feverish.

He shook his head, and a thumb moved back and forth across her cheek. ‘Enchanting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone blush the way you do.’

Kate burned inside and out. The enormity of where she was and who she was sitting with was hitting her anew all over again. ‘It’s just my colouring.’

Their eyes stayed locked for a long moment, until Kate felt as if she was melting inside. Just as she was about to beg to be released from that intense gaze, Tiarnan suddenly broke it and looked away, making Kate feel absurdly bereft all of a sudden. She was a mass of contradictions and warring desires.

Tiarnan’s friend approached with two glasses, and left again with a mischievous smile and a look that Kate didn’t miss. When Tiarnan had introduced them briefly she’d thought he’d been uncharacteristically curt to the other man, but Luc didn’t seem to mind. She took a sip of the dark liquid and coughed immediately, her eyes smarting.

Tiarnan quirked a brow and smiled. ‘Strong stuff.’

Kate grabbed for some water and drank it down. ‘You could have warned me.’ She watched as Tiarnan took another sip himself, watched the way the strong column of his throat worked. At that moment the music changed back to an infectiously upbeat rhythm.

Tiarnan extended a hand across the table. ‘Come on, let’s dance.’

Kate shrank back with genuine fear. She could see couples dancing with effortless grace and style, making moves she could never even hope to mimic. She shook her head desperately, ‘I can’t dance, Tiarnan.’

He left his hand where it was.

‘Seriously,’ she said pleadingly. ‘I’m really, really bad, I’ll just embarrass you.’

He stood up and took her hand from her lap, pulling her up.

She tried to resist. ‘I’ll watch you dance with someone else—honestly.’

He wasn’t listening. He pulled her remorselessly after him. Kate was having flashbacks to excruciating moments on other dance floors where she’d shuffled around, invariably much to Sorcha’s hysterical amusement. Or memories of standing on various hapless men’s feet and apologising profusely.

She tried to pull away again. ‘Tiarnan, you don’t understand. I’ve two left feet—just like my father. I’ve never been able to—’

Tiarnan turned and pulled her into his arms, and Kate shut up instantly at the feel of his body so close to hers, one hand low on her back and the other held high. She could feel Tiarnan’s hips move sinuously against hers, his legs making hers move in tandem with his.

His voice came low near her ear, making her tingle, ‘Just feel the beat—let it go through you.’