From Mistresses To Wives?

From Mistresses to Wives?

Kay Thorpe

Lee Wilkinson

Susan Napier

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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KAY THORPE was born in Sheffield in 1935. She tried out a variety of jobs after leaving school. Writing began as a hobby, becoming a way of life only after she had her first completed novel accepted for publication in 1968. Since then she’s written over fifty and now lives with her husband, son, German shepherd dog and lucky black cat on the outskirts of Chesterfield in Derbyshire. Her interests include reading, hiking and travel.

Chapter One

LIGHT as the brush of a butterfly’s wings against the sensitive skin at her nape, the kiss brought a dreamy smile to Jessica’s lips. She moved instinctively closer to the hard male body at her back, murmuring deep in her throat as a hand slid around her to explore her slender length with a touch like fire, traversing every curve, seeking every intimate crevice, rousing her to an overwhelming need for more.

Paul gave a soft laugh and drew her onto her back to find her lips in a kiss like nothing she had experienced before. Sliding her arms about the broad shoulders, Jessica gave herself up to the embrace, thrilling to the ripple of muscle beneath her fingers.

Since when had Paul had muscles like these? came the sudden thought, snapping her out of the dream and into devastating reality.

Sheer panic propelled her from the bed. ‘Who the hell are you?’ she demanded.

‘I might ask you the same question,’ came the answer in tones more intrigued than concerned. ‘What happened to Leonie?’

Jessica drew a steadying breath. A stranger to her, but obviously not to Leonie. ‘She isn’t here.’

Propped on an elbow, the man in the bed reached out a hand to switch on a bedside lamp, playing another, quite different tune on her stomach muscles as she viewed the firm-jawed, assertively masculine features beneath the thick sweep of dark hair.

‘I’d rather gathered that,’ he said drily. ‘It doesn’t explain what you’re doing in her apartment.’

‘I could say the same about—’ Jessica caught herself up as he lifted an ironic eyebrow. His reason for being here had to be obvious to all but the densest of mortals.

The gleam of lamplight on his naked shoulders reminded her that the rest of him was naked too. Her breath shortened again at the memory of how it had felt to be held close to that well-honed body—the sensations created by his exploring hands. She should have known the difference the moment he touched her. Paul had never aroused her as fast. Paul had never aroused her to anything like that degree, in fact.

It took the downward drift of steel-grey eyes to bring her to a sudden awareness of the lack of concealment afforded by her semi-sheer nightdress. The cotton wrap she used about the apartment was draped over the end of the bed. She reached for it, steeling herself to ignore the tilt of his lips as she pulled it on.

‘Leonie offered me use of the apartment for a break,’ she said tautly. ‘As you obviously have a key to the place, I’d have thought you’d know her movements.’

The shrug was easy. ‘We don’t have any hard and fast arrangement. I was driving by and saw the hire car in her parking slot. She doesn’t normally let other people use the place.’

‘She has this time.’ Jessica saw no reason to go into further detail. ‘I’d be grateful if you left,’ she added with what dignity she could muster. ‘You can leave your key on the way out. Leonie can let you have it back when she’s next here.’

‘Sure.’ He came upright, lips quirking once more at the expression on her face as he made to throw back the covers. ‘My things are over there on the chair.’

‘I’ll wait through in the sitting room,’ she said hastily.

She made for the door, closing it between the two of them in some temporary relief. Just a few minutes ago she had been on the verge of offering herself with abandonment to a man she didn’t know from Adam! Considering her response to him, and his own very obvious arousal, he’d shown considerable strength of mind in managing to treat the situation with any degree of humour at all, she supposed.

The beautifully furnished and decorated room was softly lit by a couple of lamps. He must have switched them on in his progression across to the bedroom. Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror on the wall opposite, Jessica pulled a wry face. With her mop of naturally curly chestnut hair doing its own thing as usual, and her face shining like a beacon from the coating of moisturiser she had given it on retiring, there was little wonder that his passion had died such a swift death.

What she found difficult to understand was Leonie’s failure to even mention the fact that someone else had a key to the place. Unless she’d genuinely forgotten about it.

Visualising the man through there in the bedroom, Jessica found that difficult to believe.

It wasn’t yet one, she saw from the wall clock. She’d only been asleep an hour or so. Whose bed, she wondered, would Paul be occupying tonight? It was unlikely to be his own.

She thrust the thought from mind as the door behind her opened again, and moved sharply away to turn and confront the man framed in the doorway. He was dressed now in a lightweight pale grey suit and black shirt, the latter open at the neck to reveal a firm tanned throat. Early thirties, she judged, clamping down on the sensations running riot inside her again at the mental image of the body beneath the casual clothing.

‘Seems I owe you an apology,’ he said with no sign of discomfiture. ‘I suppose I should have known.’

‘But one woman feels much like another in the dark,’ Jessica suggested cynically.

‘Only when the body shape’s very much the same,’ came the smooth response. ‘You and Leonie could almost be twins!’

He was laughing at her inwardly if not showing it, Jessica suspected. Eyes like chips of green ice, she said, ‘Your key, please!’

‘Of course.’ He took a key ring from a pocket, and removed one, placing it on the nearest available surface. ‘Having got that out of the way, how about a drink before I take to the road again?’ he tagged on with what she considered quite astonishing cheek in the circumstances.

‘I realise you’ll probably be accustomed to having women go to any lengths to keep you around,’ she clipped, ‘but I want you out! You know where the door is.’

‘The name’s Zac Prescott,’ he said, making no move to comply. ‘And you are?’

‘My name is immaterial. And I don’t give a damn who you are! Are you going to leave—or do I have to call the police?’

The firm mouth curved slowly, sensually, sending another warm trickle down her spine. ‘To charge me with what? There was no real harm done.’

There might have been, came the unbidden thought, if she hadn’t come fully awake in time. The emotion that briefly swept through her was too horrifyingly close to regret for comfort.

‘If I hadn’t realised you weren’t who I thought you were, I’m sure you’d have come to your own conclusion before very long,’ she retorted.

‘Maybe,’ he agreed. ‘Not to say I’d have had the willpower to stop myself from carrying on regardless though. Whoever you took me for is a lucky man. You’re a very responsive lady.’

Jessica felt her colour come up. ‘Nothing new for you, I’m sure!’

‘Depends on the kind of response we’re talking about. You…’ He broke off with a smile as she made a vehement gesture in the direction of the door. ‘I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t want to outstay my welcome.’

Jessica moved aside to allow him free passage across to the door. She was taken totally by surprise when he pulled her to him to press another pulse-racing kiss to her lips.

‘A mouth impossible to resist,’ he declared, releasing her again. ‘Sweet dreams, green eyes!’

He was gone before she could come up with any kind of reply. As the door closed in his wake, her hand crept up involuntarily to touch her lips where the tingle still lingered. She could still smell the faint, emotive scent of his aftershave, still feel the pressure of his body. His departure had left an aching space inside her.

Lust, nothing more, she told herself in self-disgust. His physical attraction was undeniable. She supposed she should be grateful he hadn’t seen fit to take further advantage of the weakness he must have sensed in her. The experience might have been earth-shaking, but the shame would have haunted her for ever more.

With a return to sleep unlikely until her jangling nerves settled a little, she made herself a cup of coffee and took it out onto the balcony. The sea sparkled silver in the moonlight, the only sign of life a cluster of lights on the horizon. A cruise ship on its way to Palma harbour perhaps.

In a month or so the temperatures would be soaring, but right now the night air felt balmy on her skin. She was to stay as long as she wanted, Leonie had said when offering her use of the apartment. She wouldn’t be getting the chance herself this month.

Jessica had seized the opportunity gratefully. A little time on her own was just what she needed in order to get herself back into gear. Looking back, she wondered how she could ever have believed Paul capable of commitment. Men didn’t change their inborn habits.

Past and done with, she told herself firmly, stifling any pangs. When she left here she would be starting afresh. She had enough put by to see her through until she found a job and somewhere of her own to live. With only her personal possessions to bother about, a bedsit would do for a start. What she wouldn’t be doing was taking any more advantage of Leonie’s generosity than she absolutely had to.

Back in bed, she still found sleep hard to come by. The masculine scent lingering on the sheets evoked memories she would prefer to forget. There was very little of her that those long supple fingers hadn’t explored in those searing moments before realisation had come crashing in.

Zac Prescott. Leonie had certainly never mentioned him. She wondered how long the affair had been going on. It seemed such a casual arrangement. Not that Leonie had ever been what might be called conventional in her way of looking at life. Men, she had often said, were there to be enjoyed for what they were, not castigated for what they were incapable of being.

An attitude, Jessica thought wryly, she might do best to formulate for herself.

Thankfully, she was unlikely to be seeing this particular man again. The very thought of facing those taunting grey eyes was enough to make her squirm.

She slept eventually, waking at seven to the sunlight she was beginning to take for granted. Breakfast out on the balcony was a treat she couldn’t have enough of. In daylight the views up and down the rugged western coastline were spectacular, the detail so clear and sharp at this hour, the air itself like fine wine.

Apart from a couple of trips into Palma, she had taken little advantage of the hire car these past few days. With her return flight booked for the day after tomorrow, it was time she stopped mooning around the apartment and saw something of the rest of the island while she still had the chance. It would be some time before she was able to take another holiday for certain.

She left the small, exclusive apartment block at nine to head up the coast. From her study of the map she had found in the writing desk drawer, she planned on driving as far as Valldemosa, then taking the marked scenic route inland and cutting back across country to hit the main highway again. The heat was rising already, making her glad she had hired one of the canvas-covered jeeps instead of a sedate little saloon.

This early in the season there were relatively few tourists on the road. Jessica took her time, stopping at every viewpoint to photograph the stunning coastal and mountain scenery. It was coming up to twelve thirty by the time she reached Valldemosa. A good place to have lunch, she decided, her appetite sharpened by the fresh air.

The guidebook she had brought with her gave the Mirador hotel top billing in every sphere. Expensive, of course, but what the hell, Jessica thought recklessly. She was due a little luxury.

Set high up above the lovely mountain village amidst a grove of orange and lemon trees, its white walls clothed in climbing roses and bougainvillaea, the hotel looked to be everything the book said. The jeep safely parked in a corner of the sloping car park, she made her way via a marble-floored, plant-strewn reception area out to a dining terrace overlooking the magnificent panorama.

Even this early in the season, only three of the dozen or so tables were unoccupied. Jessica chose one close by the low parapet wall in order to have an unrestricted view of the scenery, donning her sunglasses against the midday glare. This, she thought luxuriantly, sipping iced orange juice while she perused the extensive menu, was the life! One she could live quite happily given half a chance.

Without lifting her eyes from the menu, she was aware of being studied by the man who was about to take a seat at a nearby table. His scrutiny made her feel uncomfortable. She looked up with what she hoped was a suitably chilling expression when he came over, feeling the bottom drop right out of her stomach as she registered the face she had thought never to see again.

Zac Prescott returned her stunned gaze with an equanimity she only wished she could emulate. ‘You turn up in the most unexpected places,’ he said.

‘I didn’t know you were staying here!’ Jessica denied, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut as humour sprang in the grey eyes.

‘I daresay you’d have steered well clear if you had. But as you are here—’ he indicated one of the spare chairs ‘—perhaps I might join you?’

Jessica vacillated for a lengthy moment, torn between the dictates of common courtesy and the urge to tell him to get lost. Courtesy won by a short head, and only then because of Leonie. ‘All right,’ she agreed with reluctance.

He pulled out the chair and sat down. His appraisal was too intrusive for comfort. ‘You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name but I still have to learn yours.’

‘Jessica Saunders,’ she acknowledged, unable to come up with any good reason for keeping it a secret.

‘Jess for short?’

‘Not if you value your health!’

Zac laughed. ‘I’ll make a note of it.’ He studied her again, taking in every detail of her face with its wide-spaced green eyes, small straight nose and soft full mouth. ‘I’d say you’re a good three or four years younger than Leonie. That would make you around…twenty-five?’

‘Almost.’ She lifted an eyebrow in faithful imitation of his own interrogative style. ‘And you are?’

He laughed again. ‘Thirty-three. What’s the relationship?’ he added. ‘You and Leonie, I mean.’

‘Why?’ she asked.

‘Call it plain curiosity. Obviously you don’t have to answer.’

What reason was there to keep that a secret either? Jessica asked herself. ‘We’re cousins,’ she said.

‘You’re in the same line of business?’

It was Jessica’s turn to laugh. ‘Hardly. I’m just a humble secretary.’

‘Secretary maybe, humble I’d doubt,’ he returned drily.

He glanced at his watch as a waiter materialised at his elbow, then down at the menu he’d yet to open. ‘You go first,’ he invited.

‘The seafood platter, please,’ she said. ‘And a Perrier.’

Zac took his time perusing the menu. Crisply styled, the thick dark hair had a healthy shine in the sunlight. From the depth of his tan it seemed evident that he spent a good deal of his time in sunny climates.

Wearing light cotton jeans and a white T-shirt today, he had no less of an impact on her senses; the short sleeves emphasised the muscular structure of his upper arms in a way that made her quiver deep down inside. Last night those arms had enclosed her, those long-fingered hands caressed her. She quivered again at the memory.

She was glad of the dark glasses covering her eyes when he looked her way again as the waiter departed with their orders. Feeling the way he made her feel was one thing, revealing it quite another.

‘Do you spend much time here?’ she asked.

‘On and off,’ he acknowledged. ‘Your first visit, is it?’

Jessica nodded. ‘It’s very different from what I expected.’

‘You thought it would be wall-to-wall tourists?’

‘More or less.’

‘You’d find plenty down around Magaluf, and up the east coast, but this side is too rugged for majority tastes.’

Jessica cast a glance out over the spreading scene. ‘It’s beautiful! I can understand now why Leonie chose to buy a place here. Not that she gets to use it as often as she’d like these days.’

‘The price of success,’ Zac observed. ‘How long are you here for?’

‘A week,’ she said. ‘With two days to go.’

‘You think it’s going to be long enough to sort yourself out?’

She looked at him sharply, meeting eyes too perceptive by half. ‘Sort myself out from what?’

‘Whatever it is you’re running away from. Could it be the man you mistook me for last night?’

Jessica made every effort to stay cool and collected, if only on the surface. ‘Would it really be any of your business?’

‘No,’ he returned imperturbably, ‘but I seem to have struck a chord. Turn out to be a bad lot, did he?’

‘Is there any other kind?’

Broad shoulders lifted. ‘Don’t judge the whole barrel by one rotten apple. Try another.’

‘Anyone in mind?’ she asked sweetly, and saw his mouth slowly widen.

‘I wouldn’t say no.’

The sudden flaring temptation was undeniable. Jessica took a forcible hold on herself. Even if the man wasn’t her cousin’s lover, indulging a purely sexual need was certainly no way to go.

‘How long have you known Leonie?’ she asked with deliberation.

The question in no way threw him. ‘It’s a couple of years since we first met, though we only see one another on rare occasions, and never by arrangement. I took the long way up from Palma last night on the off-chance. I planned on surprising her.’

Jessica kept her tone level. ‘Sorry to disappoint you.’

‘Not so much a disappointment as a deprivation,’ he said. ‘You were so—’

‘I don’t want to know!’ she cut in hurriedly. ‘Just forget about it!’

Zac gave a mock sigh. ‘Difficult, but I’ll do my best.’

The arrival of the food curtailed conversation for a few minutes. Jessica found the seafood selection delicious—but then for the prices she had seen displayed on the menu, it darn well should be! she reflected. A definite one-off treat.

‘So what do you do for a living?’ she asked lightly.

‘I’m with the company contemplating adding this place to their Balearic brochure,’ he said.

‘The decision dependent on your appraisal?’

‘It’s certainly a factor.’

Jessica glanced around the wide, tree-shaded terrace. ‘It’s a lovely place in a wonderful location, though I’d have thought it a bit up-market for the general package deal.’

‘It is.’ Zac regarded her with new interest. ‘Have you worked in the business?’

‘Not in the same sense. My parents used to run a hotel in the Cotswolds.’

‘Used to?’

‘They divorced three years ago.’

‘And you joined cousin Leonie in the big city?’

‘Not then. I only moved there after…’ She caught herself up, aware of having said a great deal more than she had intended. ‘Are you considering a recommendation?’

‘Maybe.’ There was a pause, a change of tone. ‘At the risk of being told to mind my own business again, do you still have a job at present?’

Jessica eyed him curiously. ‘Why would you want to know?’

‘I might be able to put you in the way of something.’

‘Are you in the habit of offering jobs to people you only just met?’ she asked after a moment.

‘No,’ he acknowledged.

‘Then why me?’

‘You’re Leonie’s cousin, which vouches for your background, and I’m in urgent need of someone available at short notice.’ He glanced at his watch again, and pulled a face. ‘I’m afraid I have to go. We’ll discuss the detail over dinner tonight.’

Pushing back his chair, he stood up, six feet of virile manhood calculated to stir any woman’s blood. ‘I’ll pick you up at eight.’

He strode away before Jessica could draw breath to respond. Not that she was at all sure what she would have said. The offer had come right out of the blue.

An intriguing one, she had to admit. What would prompt a man of his kind to offer any kind of job to someone on the strength of what appeared to be a fairly casual relationship at best?

Listening to what he had to say over dinner in no way committed her, she reasoned. At the very least, she would be spared another long evening on her own. She turned a deaf ear to the voice cautioning against any further as sociation at all with a man who not only sent her pulse rate into overdrive, but made it quite obvious that he found her something of a draw too.

The waiter shook his head when she asked for the bill. Señor Prescott, he said, had already attended to the matter. Jessica wondered if the man knew why Zac was here.

She spent the rest of the afternoon following the lesser frequented route back to her starting point, gaining a glimpse of the real Majorca, almost totally untouched by the tourist trade.

Back at the apartment by five, she made herself coffee, and spent the next hour or so vacillating over whether to ring Leonie or not. The latter was still at the office when she finally made the call.

‘You only just caught me,’ declared her cousin. ‘Another five minutes and I’d have been on my way out for the evening. So, how’s it going?’

‘Fine,’ Jessica assured her. ‘I really like the island. What I’ve seen of it so far, at any rate. I’ve met a friend of yours,’ she went on. ‘Name of Zac Prescott?’

There was a pause before Leonie responded. ‘Met where exactly?’

Not for anything, Jessica had already decided, was she going to let on about last night, although she doubted if Leonie would find it anything but amusing. ‘Valldemosa. The Mirador Hotel. Apparently he works for the company proposing to use the place.’

‘Works for?’ Leonie gave a laugh. ‘Sweetie, he is the company. Leastways, a major shareholder. You’ve heard of Orbis?’

‘Vaguely.’ Jessica was nonplussed. ‘I’d have thought he’d be way above sussing out new prospects?’

‘Zac’s what you’d call a hands-on man. He hates sitting around in offices. Orbis is one of Prescott Incorporated’s subsidiary interests. Caters for the upper end of the travel market. Even more successfully since Zac took it on board.’