The Accidental Mistress Read Online Free PDF Page A

as much as I do.
    The tea in the pot was long cold, but he would have loved a cup. Anything to settle him, any normal act, to get him out of this hyped-up state so he could think straight. He took a bottle of water from the mini fridge and sipped slowly. It was fresh and pure and cool … and goddamnit, that only reminded him of her.
    Fresh and young, cool and composed, and still pure even when at her most carnal.
    When he’d received that email from Brent Westhead, the one that seemed to clarify the younger man’s relationship with Lizzie, John’s heart had begun to sing. And even while such an out-of-control state alarmed him, he’d still exulted, knowing she was missing him as much as he was missing her. With barely a moment’s hesitation, he’d rearranged his schedule as best he could. Then, he’d flung some clothes in abag, fired up the Bentley, and just set off north. He hated to think how many anxious voicemails, texts and emails would be waiting for him when he turned on his phone again, and he’d specifically asked the staff at the Waverley not to forward any but the most urgent messages to him, while he was in residence.
    He had a huge, unavoidable meeting in New York in a couple of days’ time, and no desire whatsoever to be there. All he wanted was to be here: looking at Lizzie, talking to Lizzie, touching and kissing and fucking her.
    And spanking her too. Oh hell, yes … how he’d missed that. Not once in his years of exploring BDSM had it ever been the way it was with her. With Lizzie, even the simplest and most playful games had moment, and significance.
    Was it wrong to feel like this? This driving urge to possess her utterly, and make her his, even knowing his own shortcomings? The need was so strong, he feared he might crush her with it, and that must not happen. He needed to keep control of himself, and take things slowly with her, for
her
sake.
    It’s not all about you, man. You mustn’t overwhelm her and you mustn’t just fuck the living daylights out of her because she makes you so horny. Behave like the gentleman you’re supposed to be, even if you’ve never believed you are one.
    And yet, the lust was there. He wanted her now. His cock was hard beneath his robe. Again. Still …
    Striding to the window, he opened it, breathed in the fresh air from the garden. There were techniques he’d learned, to regain control of himself, and to calm fears and urges, and he tried them now.
    Their effect was minimal.
    But he would not, should not, exhaust Lizzie with hisdemands. It wasn’t all about sex, sex, sex, and he must never make her feel that was all she was to him. He’d told her he didn’t do hearts and flowers, and he knew she was too smart to expect that, but still, he ought to try, at least a bit.
    And he was capable of some of the trappings of romance. He turned towards the bags and boxes he’d retrieved from the wardrobe. The booty that was the only other thing he’d paused to stow in the Bentley on his departure.
    These were the gifts he’d so carefully selected for her while they’d been apart. Not the little fun items he’d sent to her at home, but the other ones. The treasures he’d been choosing for her in a sort of irrational dream. Lovely things he’d lavish on her if she were ever to become his girlfriend, his mistress … or whatever it was she was to him. A status that was far more than girlfriend or mistress, but much, much less than she deserved.
    Eyeing the packages, he smiled. She’d resist, of course. He still remembered the almost pitched battles he’d had with her over money, when they’d still been doing their call girl and client dance, only a month ago. Lizzie wasn’t materialistic. Not like certain other women he’d known.
    But she deserved good things. All good things. Everything he could give her.
    John smoothed the shiny paper of one of the carrier bags, straightening the tiniest of creases that marred its perfection.
    He was a persuasive man, and