Mistress At A Price

From some great distance she heard herself say quietly, huskily, ‘How strange, because I’m wondering much the same about you.’

Liam pushed back his chair and rose. He came round the table to her, taking her hand, pulling her to her feet.

He said softly, ‘So why waste any more time? Why don’t we simply go upstairs—and satisfy our mutual curiosity?’

He looked deeply into her eyes. ‘Well?’ he asked, and she nodded mutely in reply.

Still holding her hand, Liam strode through the restaurant, threading his way between the tables.

Cat tried to hang back. She said breathlessly, ‘But we can’t just leave. There’s the bill to pay …’

‘They’ll know how to find me,’ he said. ‘When they need to.’

They climbed the stairs together, side by side. When they reached the door of her room Cat said, ‘Will you give me a few minutes?’

He framed her face in his hands, looking down at her, his mouth wry. ‘Having second thoughts, Cat? Planning to run away again—or lock your door against me?’

She shook her head. ‘None of those, I—I promise. I just—need a little time to myself.’

‘Maybe we both do.’ He released her, his hand stroking the hair back from her face. ‘But don’t keep me waiting too long.’ And strode away.

The room, she discovered, had been made ready for the night—curtains drawn, bed turned down, the lamp lit on the night table and her nightgown fanned across the coverlet.

The hotel staff must have known all along that she would stay, Cat thought, biting her lip. Just as she had known it herself, of course, in spite of her denials.

She undressed without haste and put on her nightgown, adjusting the narrow straps on her shoulders. She brushed her hair, and sprayed her pulse-points with her favourite scent.