Elusive Lover

‘There’s a first time for everything,’ Erin snapped.

‘There sure is,’ he grinned, underterred by her attitude. ‘But it won’t be the first time for you, will it?’

Her eyes widened as she took in the implication of his words. If she said yes, would he withdraw his offer? She had a feeling he would. ‘No,’ she said shakily.

Josh reached into the breast pocket of his denim jacket and took out a piece of paper. ‘Do you have a pen?’

‘In my bag,’ she answered in a puzzled voice, taking one out and handing it to him.

He wrote something down on the piece of paper. ‘Here,’ he handed it to her, ‘take the rest of the day to think over my offer. You can leave a message for me at that telephone number any time until four o’clock. After that I’ll have left town.’ He picked up his hat, preparing to leave.

Erin put her pen away and picked up the piece of paper. ‘I—Where is this?’

‘A friend’s house, the same friend that’s servicing my pick-up for me. He’ll be there all day, call him if you want me to pick you up someplace.’ He stood up.

Erin looked up at him with wide eyes. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I have some business in town.’

‘You never did tell me what work you do,’ she frowned.

‘Time enough for that if you decide to take me up on my offer, and if you don’t… Well, then it won’t matter.’ He picked up the bill, tipping his hat to her. ‘See ya.’

Erin watched in frustrated silence as he moved to the desk to pay for their meal, the infatuated Marie moving hastily to take his money, giggling and blushing as he talked softly to her.

Damn him! He had just propositioned her, and now he was walking out of her life as if she meant nothing to him.

Maybe she didn’t, except as someone to cook and clean for him—and share his bed. Two weeks of having a man like that for a lover could leave her more scarred than she was already.

But London! It beckoned like a pair of warm arms on a cold day. She liked Canada, but for all she had been born here she felt alien, longed for the rush and bustle of England’s capital, for the sight of the familiar black taxis, a red bus, the pigeons in Trafalgar Square. No matter where she had been born, London was her home, and she longed for it with a desperation that bordered on panic.

Enough to become Joshua Hawke’s lover? She baulked at the word mistress, the description sounded subservient. It would simply be a job, like any other, with no emotion involved, and a plane ticket back to London would be her wages.