Free His Convenient Mistress by Cathy Williams Page A

matter till the cows came home, Simon removed the decision from her hands by opening the back car door and clambering into the seat.
    The smile James gave her made her scowl.
    â€˜Do you always get your own way?’ she snapped, sliding past him into the passenger seat and pressing her legs together.
    â€˜Always,’ he assured her, half turning to look at her. ‘You look stunning, by the way.’ His mouth curved into a smile that sent a little thrill racing down her spine. ‘But don’t feel obliged to thank me for the compliment.’
    â€˜I won’t,’ Sara returned, instantly regretting her reply because it was unnecessary. ‘But thank you anyway,’ she added, turning to stare straight ahead.
    â€˜I brought my teddy,’ Simon piped up from behind. ‘Will Mrs…Mrs Babysitter mind?’
    â€˜I think she would love to see your teddy.’ James started the engine and allowed Sara to stare frozenly ahead at the scenery while he chatted with her son. All that ice, but he had tasted those lips, had felt a surge of heat come from her straight into him and he knew that under the ice lay a hot pool of fire just waiting for him to ignite.
    As they turned left and began the drive up to the manor,Sara couldn’t hold on to her pointed silence any longer. Her mouth dropped open as she took in the length, breadth and width of the rolling estate.
    â€˜This isn’t all yours , is it?’ she gasped, turning to stare at his averted profile.
    â€˜All of it,’ he confirmed, a little nettled by the fact that his property impressed her, even if he didn’t. ‘Over there, to the right, there’s a rose garden and even a miniature maze.’
    Sara stared at the gracious manor rising up with effortless grace, dominating the courtyard which sprawled around a magnificent circular flower bed that was bursting with colour. A silver Rolls-Royce was parked neatly in front of the house.
    â€˜Is it a castle?’ Simon breathed, awestruck, standing up so that he was peering between them with his teddy clutched in his arms.
    â€˜Not quite,’ James said, laughing. ‘Not uncomfortable enough.’
    â€˜And your mother lives here on her own ?’ Sara asked. The pale gold frontage seemed to stretch on forever, rising in places to turrets that belonged to something from a fairy tale.
    â€˜She has staff, naturally.’
    â€˜Oh, naturally,’ Sara said, missing the amused look he threw at her. ‘It must be awfully lonely for her.’ They got out of the car and Sara stared upwards at the imposing façade. ‘Rattling around here on her own, even if there are staff.’
    â€˜I come up and see her at least once a month,’ James grated, not caring for the description of his mother rattling around in the house and caring even less for the assumption that she must be lonely.
    â€˜And then there are two of you rattling around.’ Simontugged at her hand and she let herself be pulled towards the heavy oak door. ‘Didn’t you ever think of selling? Maybe buying something smaller for your mother? I would, if it were me.’
    In that split instant he knew how she would react if he admitted that he had indeed thought of buying somewhere smaller and that the place he had in mind was only a stone’s throw away, was in fact the Rectory which she had only just occupied.
    She was wary enough of him already. In fact, she positively bristled with uneasy suspicion whenever he was within striking distance of her. Hearing that he wanted her house was not exactly going to fill her with trusting warmth, was it? Lust or cold-headed practicality? he wondered.
    His eyes slid across to the long column of her neck as she gazed upwards, pale and beckoning in the mellow light of the evening sun.
    Cold-headed practicality, he thought, would be dealt with later. It wouldn’t be a problem. But it was not in his nature to issue an outright lie