Mistress to the Prince Read Online Free PDF

head of an oil company and she had been asked to take notes in the meeting. 
     
    The man left and Max turned around, his eyes taking in her appearance.  “Late night?” he asked in a deceptively casual tone .  He walked over to stand in front of her desk, his eyes noting the dark circles under her eyes and the soft, wispy hair that was coming out of her bun, making her look softer and more feminine. 
     
    Tara noticed the direction of his gaze and pulled a stray lock of hair behind her ear in an effort to look more polished.  She wished she had a brush and hairspray so she could smooth it all back into the chignon but she couldn’t leave at the moment if his angry expression was any indication .  “Yes.  Too late,” she said, her voice shaking.  “I’m sorry I’m also late arriving for work.  I didn’t wake up to the alarm this morning ,” she said weakly and shuffled some papers on her desk.
     
    Max crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring her smile as his anger grew.  He already hated the man who got to take her out last night and he didn’t even know his name. “Nice date last night?” he asked, wishing he could punch the man’s face in, whoever he was. 
     
    Tara smiled wanly, remembering the horrible evening.  “It was okay,” she lied.  She’d seen Max angry before but his anger had always been directed at someone else.  She had never been on the receiving end of it before and it was quite terrifying. 
     
    He walked closer, then stopped by her desk to look at her, his mouth showing his displeasure.  “I’m glad you are okay.  Why was your car here all night?”
     
    Tara was instantly on her guard.  “I…my date just drove me home.”
     
    A muscle started twitching on the side of his face but Tara maintained eye contact with him.  “Did he come inside?” he asked, placing one hand on either side of her desk and leaning over to watch her expression.
     
    “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” she said , sensing his increased fury and getting angry herself.  She turned back to her computer , unwilling to be interrogated about her blind date when he had been on one himself . “How was Lady Margaret ?  Pretty enough for you?” she asked, and instantly regretted her catty tone of voice. 
     
    “ I suppose she was nice enough although I don’t remember much about her, but back to your mystery date and your lat e night.  You don’t think it is my business,” he said ominously.  “ I think it is ,” he countered , his voice low and obviously angry .  “ When you’re late for work because of your wild dates, it becomes my business,” he snapped.  “Get me the statistics on the latest environmental reports and be in my office in ten minutes.”
     
    With those words, he left her staring at him with a slack jaw.  He’d never spoken to her like that before.  They had always had a perfect sense of rhythm in the office and Tara knew that he didn’t need or want those statistics until later this afternoon when he would have time to review them.  Was he just being domineering to prove that he could? 
     
    Angrily, she grabbed the reports which were already compiled and summarized , two copies; one for him so he could review them and one for herself so she could take notes for further action later.  She’d already made the copies knowing that he’d want to review them later this afternoon.  Within five minutes, she handed him one of the reports, slapping it into the middle of his desk.  She then turned around and sat down in the chair opposite his desk, waiting for him to start his review with her pencil poised over the report but not willing to look at him since she was now angry herself .
     
    “Tell me about your date,” he snapped , ignoring the reports.
     
    Turning the top page of the reports he’d requested, her pen poised to take notes, but Tara wouldn’t look him in the eye.  “It was wonderful ,” she lied .  “ The man was