Anne Oliver

Memoirs of a Millionaire's Mistress


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her free hand at the room ‘—monochrome.’

      One eyebrow rose. ‘My designer thought otherwise.’ Then he seemed to reflect on that a moment and said, ‘What would you change?’ as if he’d never given his choice of interior decoration a thought.

      ‘Personal opinion of course, but you don’t think it’s lacking a little warmth and intimacy?’ When he didn’t reply she looked around at the bare surfaces. ‘Where’s the ambience? A few homey pieces like photos, a rock collection, a pottery figurine. A mix of plump red or apricot cushions, warm yellow light and a bluesy CD.’

      Typical Didi-speak, but now the warmth and intimacy thing seemed to take hold as he continued to watch her. To distract herself she set her box on the floor, withdrew Charlie, buried her face in his soft fur and changed the topic. ‘Hey, you’re safe now, little guy.’ But was she?

      ‘It suits me the way it is.’ He turned his attention to Charlie. ‘That cat looks remarkably healthy for a stray. Are you sure it was abandoned?’

      She rubbed the round tight tummy. ‘True, but if you found a cat stuffed in a box tied up with string and left by a toilet block what would you assume?’

      He nodded, straightened, all formal again. ‘The bedroom’s this way.’ His tone matched his choice of furnishings—minimalist. ‘It has an enclosed balcony. Please keep the cat confined to that area.’

      She followed him down a wide corridor. As she passed she glimpsed what must be his bedroom, then another filled with gym equipment…and her stuff.

      ‘Davis, the security guy downstairs, had your gear put in here.’ He gestured towards it, then stopped at the third door, swung it open. The mountain of cream and gold quilt looked inviting on the big double bed. ‘The guest bathroom’s at the end of the corridor.’

      ‘Great,’ she said into the tense silence. Her initial snap judgement might have been premature. How many people would have put themselves out this way for a virtual stranger? She murmured, ‘Thank you.’

      He nodded, checked his watch. ‘I’m unlikely to be back before midnight so make yourself at home. If you’re hungry, feel free to fix something to eat.’

      ‘Thanks.’ Her gaze turned back to the bedroom. To the bed covered in his sheets. A shaft of heat slid through her belly. ‘Um…thanks again, I’ll be fine. Goodnight,’ she managed, and stepped inside. Closed the door.

      She waited till she heard his footsteps fade. ‘Well, Charlie…’ She smoothed his fur and set him down. ‘So I guess it’s tuna fish dinner for you and a hot bath for me.’ But even though she forced herself to keep thoughts and self-talk upbeat she wondered with an ever-increasing knot in her stomach what she’d got herself into.

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