Claiming His Mistress. Emma Darcy

as her sweater…as red as the provocative dress Carmen had worn.

      “I’m sure they’re everything they should be,” she rushed out, discomforted by the doubt she’d inadvertantly projected and retracting it as fast as she could. “You wouldn’t be in this position unless they were.”

      “But it’s difficult for you to accept,” he taunted, cynically wondering if she’d come to accept her father’s view of him—a guy who was screwing a rich man’s daughter to make an easy track for himself to a better life.

      “No. I…”

      Words failed her. Her eyes flickered with confusion. Hazel eyes—grey and green with dots of gold, he remembered. Big, beautiful eyes to drown in…when he was much younger. Her face was still probably the most essentially feminine face he’d ever seen, its frame of black curls accentuating her pale creamy skin, the finely winged eyebrows, a delicately formed nose, and the very kissable, lushly curved lips.

      Was she remembering how they’d once kissed?

      Were the memories as recent as a few nights ago?

      Right now she was boxed into a corner and struggling to get out, realising that referring to the past was a faux pas in these circumstances. She was the one in need of money, not him. Quite a delicious irony, given the background of their former relationship.

      Carver noted that her mouth remained slightly parted, the full sensuality of her lips accentuated, and the kisses he’d taken from Carmen were vividly evoked, inciting the desire to taste them again.

      She scooped in a quick breath and gestured an agitated appeal for his forebearance. “I’m sorry. Of course, I accept your credentials. I hope you’re prepared to accept mine.”

      They would undoubtedly make fascinating listening, but Carver was not about to reveal any personal interest in them. “I’m here to be convinced that your proposition is well founded and potentially profitable,” he assured her, smiling his satisfaction in the concession to his obvious standing in the company. “If you’d like to start…”

      He waved an invitation to the chair he’d placed handy to his desk for her to pass over papers. Without waiting for her to move, he straightened up and strolled around the large desktop to his own chair, a clear signal that he expected business to begin.

      Control was his and he intended to keep it, right down the line.

      Even when he kissed her.

      Which he fully intended to do before she left this office…if Katie Beaumont reacted to the trigger of Carmen!

      CHAPTER FIVE

      KATIE burned with embarrassment as she took the client chair Carver had indicated. Client was the operative word and she fiercely vowed not to forget it again. Her logic had been spot-on before she’d stepped into this office. For Carver, this was strictly business, and if he had been the buccaneer at the masked ball, she could forget that, too. It had no bearing—none whatsoever—on this meeting.

      In fact, she wished she knew what Robert Freeman looked like so she could mentally transpose his face onto Carver’s. A mask would be very helpful right now. It would save getting distracted again by things that weren’t pertinent to this time and place.

      As it was, looking straight at the man behind the desk, she couldn’t help seeing that ten years had given Carver’s handsome face a more striking look of strength and authority. Success certainly sat well on him. But his dark chocolate eyes no longer had a melting quality. No caring in them, she thought. At least, not for her. Which made the past a hollow thing she should discard. Immediately.

      “Best to start with a summary of what you’re aiming for and why you think it would prove a good investment,” Carver directed, making Katie acutely aware that she’d lost all sense of initiative.

      “I need to know where you’re coming from so I can assess the probable outcome of where you want to head,” he went on, spelling out what she already knew she had to do.

      She’d practised it many times. There would be no difficulty at all in rolling it out if Carver was a stranger, so she had to pretend he was one, just as he’d initially suggested…meeting for the first time.

      Setting that parameter in her mind as firmly as she could, Katie managed to pull out her rehearsed presentation, beginning with her background in child-care, her current employment at a day-care centre, and her observations regarding the need for a safe, reliable transport service to deliver and pick up children, thereby relieving the stress of working parents who were stretched for time to manage this themselves.

      Carver nodded thoughtfully. “You’re talking about creches, preschool child-minding centres…”

      Katie leaned forward in her eagerness to press her case. “It’s where to start distributing leaflets about the service but I envisage much more than catering to the very young age group. I’m thinking school-children who have medical or dental appointments, swimming lessons, dance classes, after-school tutoring, birthday parties. Also picking up teenagers from movies or parties. Parents worry about them using public transport after dark.”