Billionaire's Defiant Mistress Read online

  “Hi, Sarah,” he said. “Can you tell me what has happened?”

  In that moment she felt all her emotional barriers break open. Since the night before she had constructed a defensive wall around herself to protect her pride and dignity from the way she had spent the previous night. But now as she felt her dependency on Carlos and her helpless and vulnerable state her barriers just crumbled.

  “Carlos,” she pleaded, as the tears once more slid down her cheeks. “They are accusing me of being a thief.”

  He pulled out an immaculate handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her palm. He then turned to the manager and gave him a penetrating stare. “Would you kindly tell me what is going on?”

  It was soon established that Carlos hadn't actually paid for the gift sets. He frowned as he tried to remember the moment when he had bought the gift sets. He couldn't remember signing for them, all he could remember was the flirting and the chatter between him and Sarah. They had been so wrapped up in each other that neither of them had noticed that the card did not go through the till.

  The issue had been compounded because he had forgotten to take the packages with him. The jealous supervisor, who was prone to seek out trouble, had seen Sarah in the changing room with the parcels and decided to do a stock check. There was clearly a discrepancy, they had not been paid for, so technically there had been a theft. It was store policy to prosecute all thefts.

  “For goodness sake,” Carlos muttered under his breath as he spun on his toes, annoyed at the chaos which had entered his life. Just a little absent mindedness and yet potentially, an all too damaging outcome. He had been distracted by her beauty, that was all that happened. A man who was known for his sense of order and his ability to control a situation had for one moment acted impulsively, and now it seemed he would be paying the price for his impulsiveness. And what a twenty-four hours for Sarah. She lost her virginity and was being branded as a common thief. How she must be celebrating the day she met Carlos Rodriguez.

  Recognising that neither his anger or his force of personality would help in this situation, Carlos adopted a tactful and diplomatic approach. He explained that there had been nothing more than a mix-up, repaid the money and managed to get the matter dropped.

  Soon enough Carlos and Sarah were stood on the pavement outside the store, his driver sat patiently in the limousine by the kerb. He looked at her slumped and dejected posture. “Are you okay, Sarah?”

  “At least I'm free. I thought they were going to get nasty and that I might end up with a criminal record.” She turned her red and blotchy face towards him. “Thank you, Carlos,” she said, feeling like some of the butterflies in her stomach had subsided, though she still felt a strange numbness. It was a strange sensation, as if everything was happening to somebody else. Another tear left her eye and rolled down her cheek and her voice had a stuttering gravelly tone. “Thank you so much,” she repeated. “I feel such an idiot.”

  “Don't. There is no need, it was just a mistake.” Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close as she began to cry again. He could feel her tears soaking into his shirt and the soft shaking of her beautiful body as she gasped for air. Her helplessness and vulnerability pierced him with a sense of shame for mistaking her as a provocative gold digger just because she looked like an experienced lover. And because there was a strong attraction between them – an attraction he was only too willing to exploit – her reputation had been ruined.

  He pulled his crumpled handkerchief from her fingers, tilted her face towards him and wiped away the new tears which had formed on her cheeks. “Don't be so hard on yourself. It's as much my fault as it is yours. I wasn't paying attention to what we were doing, neither of us were.” He looked into her face and wondered how she managed to look so beautiful even through the tears. “So, you've lost your job.”

  “Yes, at least it was only temporary. But I am still so angry.”

  “What will you do now?”

  Sarah swallowed hard. While she had his arms wrapped around her she felt safe, but once she'd been released from his strength and warmth she became anxious of what lay ahead. It was bad enough having to leave Puxley's and now she would have to think about explaining it to everyone. Her friends with whom she shared the flat, her mother and the owner of the shop back in Keswick who had helped her get the job. All she could think of doing was explaining to them all that she was a failure.

  She had let herself down and she had let everybody else down too. Worse, she had made herself look a complete idiot in front of Carlos. It was true she had escaped without getting a criminal record, but the incident had still left her feeling utterly deflated.

  “I'm not sure what I'll do next, but I'll think of something.”

  Carlos looked at her slumping shoulders and noticed she was still wearing the clothes from the night before. Her face was pale apart from the glow on her cheeks which shone because of the tears. He felt some responsibility and wanted to help make amends.

  “Did Elaine make you breakfast this morning?” he questioned.

  “No. I was in a rush to get into work.” She spoke quickly as if it would help to hide the real reason she had rushed out – she didn't want to be just one more woman being served breakfast by Elaine.

  He put his hand on her shoulder and guided her towards the car, simultaneously communicating with his eyes. “Let's go and have some lunch.”

  “I can't go out to lunch, not in these clothes,” she protested.

  “Exactly, my dear. That's why we're going to go and do some shopping first, get you something nice to wear.”

  “No. I couldn't.”

  “Yes, you could,” he chided. “It's just a little something to make up for all the trouble I've caused this morning. It is partly my fault.” She felt as if she was being treated like a child, being offered a bag of sweets for her complicity.

  “It was my fault more than yours; it was my job to make sure that you paid. You don't owe me any compensation.”

  “Then let's just call it a treat or a gift. It's only to cheer you up and make you smile again. Please?” He stroked away a lock of hair that was lying on her cheek and had become damp with tears. “I'm not willing to take no for an answer, so you will have to agree, Sarah.”

  The way he spoke to her just increased her unease and feelings of isolation. Was he trying to buy her off? Just as he'd paid off the store. Get her a new outfit and she'll quietly disappear and never bother him again. Well, she is happy to quietly disappear – and doesn't need the billionaire pay-off.

  “I'm serious. I don't want you buying me anything,” she said defiantly.

  Carlos wasn't used to backing down and was about to argue, until he noticed the determined slant of her chin and the penetrating stare in her eyes which told him they weren't empty words. When had anybody refused him before – especially money? He considered it quite an indictment on him that he should be so shocked by her rejection.

  “Then let me take you home. You can get changed and then I will take you out for lunch.” Her display of pride had changed her from somebody he saw as a potential burden into an object of desire once more.

  Sarah was all ready to refuse, when suddenly she had a better idea. Perhaps, if she took Carlos back to her place and let him see the kind of life she lived, then it would help them both to realise just how different they were. “Okay.” She smiled daintily and shrugged her shoulders. “Why not?”

  They were soon pulling up outside Sarah's apartment. Her mouth had already turned dry and she was nervous at the prospect of showing Carlos the place where an ordinary person lived. There was nothing wrong with her block of flats, but it was a different world from the peaceful atmosphere and tree-lined driveways in which Carlos lived.

  “Wait in the car, I won't be long.” Sarah spoke hopefully. She knew there would be a certain amount of disorder within the apartment, there usually is when too many people are pushed into too small a space.

  “Why don'
t I come in?” Carlos enquired. What could she say? To refuse him entry would demonstrate she was embarrassed or ashamed of where she lived and of her friends.

  “Okay then. Come in.” She smiled grimly and hoped he couldn't tell it was forced.

  The carnage in the flat was much as she had expected, indeed it was worse. There were wine bottles and empty beer cans dotted around the living room and half a dozen tinfoil containers scattered over the table, the remains of a curry. There was also the strong odour of stale cigarette smoke lingering in the air, all of which was made worse by the darkness caused by the curtains still being closed. Sarah detected Carlos's revulsion in the way he shuddered and could only take very tentative small steps into the room.

  “Looks like they had a party last night,” she said, as brightly as she could.

  “Clearly.” He made no attempt to hide his sarcasm.

  “I'll go and get changed. Just wait here, I won't be long.”

  “Please don't be.”

  He watched her as she pulled open the door and caught a glimpse of the tiny room she disappeared into before closing the door behind her. Carlos reflected on the days when he had lived frugally – though he had never lived like this. He had been an apprentice as a teenager with his accommodation provided by the football club so in a sense he had always been looked after. Each time he had moved it had been upwards because he had been successful.

  Sarah was gone just a few minutes before she emerged. Carlos did a double-take as he realised it was her natural beauty and youthfulness which enabled her to look so striking in such a short time. Older women would have to spend hours to pull off that kind of look.

  She'd put on a simple navy blue dress with a loose thick belt which hung on her hips and a pair of black ankle boots. Her face was washed, removing all signs of her crying, but the only make-up she had applied was a thin line of lipstick, just slightly darker than the natural colour of her lips but with a glossy finish. Her hair was loosely tied to the back of her head, whilst the shorter hair on her fringe and at the sides hung naturally. Carlos blinked, she looked absolutely ravishing.

  “Let's go then,” Sarah said, in a hurry to get him out of there.

  Carlos couldn't help thinking that had she been more experienced she would have tried to seduce him there and then. She would try to create greater closeness between them and deepen their relationship. Isn't that what a gold digger would do? The fact that she didn't try to seduce him just made him want her. He really wanted her. He could feel the stirring in his loin and thought about getting her into bed there and then. But on consideration of the uncomfortable surroundings and the fact that her room-mates could reappear at any moment, his mind was made up for him.

  “Yes. Let's go to lunch,” he answered decisively and began his movement towards the door as he spoke. “You must be hungry.”

  Sarah said yes with some enthusiasm as she nodded. A part of her was relieved to find him still there, having thought he might have gone during the time she had taken to change her clothes. She was happy for the distraction, even if it would only be for an hour or so, because it meant she wouldn't have to start thinking about her future just yet. Her life had turned into something of a nightmare. Not only had she been fired from her job, she was running around with the most unsuitable man.

  But she reminded herself that she wasn't running around with him, she was simply going out for lunch. And she was going out for lunch with him because she had lost her job that morning. Once lunch was over she would be on her merry way.

  Grabbing her handbag, she briefly thought of herself as Carlos's lover. And as this would be her first and last experience of being his lover she was going to enjoy it, instead of sulking and ruining the experience because of the uncertainty which lay ahead. In that moment she made the promise to herself to turn the memory into something to remember, otherwise the whole sequence of events of the past twenty-four hours would be a terrible waste. “In fact, I'm starving.”

  The car took them into the city centre, to a restaurant that was a big and busy place. The waiter couldn't do enough for Carlos, finding them seats in the quieter corner of the restaurant. Sarah realised she was with a man who would always get what he wanted.

  She had barely taken in her surroundings, noting the cutlery, the intricate pattern on the bread plates and the table decorations before she was handed a glass of ruby red wine.

  “ I hope you do not object to drinking at lunch time,” said Carlos.

  “ I don't object but I don't normally do it,” she replied.

  “Well today you can. You need a drink.” He put his lips to his glass and took a mouthful of the wine, his dark eyes locking onto hers as he sipped.

  Sarah, as though following his example, took a sip from her own glass. She sat in silence as Carlos took the responsibility for ordering the food. She felt numb, partly because of the events of that morning but also because she was unused to being in a restaurant of this kind. She sat still so that her actions wouldn't give her away, so that no one would notice she felt like a girl who was out of place. And she stayed perfectly still as the waiter placed olives, water and a basket of bread on the table.

  “What do you think you're going to do now?” he asked, as he observed her frozen posture from squinting eyes.

  “I will have to go back to the Lake District, I don't really have too much choice.”

  “You don't sound as if that is what you want to do.”

  “It's not really what I want. I will have to explain to my mother, and to my boss, why I've come back early.”

  “Will you tell them the truth?”

  Sarah laughed as she looked him in the eye. “I could tell them I've been sacked but managed to avoid getting a criminal record for theft.”

  “I guess it doesn't sound too good, however you phrase it.” He smiled in a gentle way, demonstrating that he understood and cared for her predicament.

  But it wasn't just the incident at Puxley's which was on her mind, even worse was the story which led up to her arrest. She hadn't kept her mind on the job because she was distracted by this handsome Spanish stranger, who she had jumped into bed with, losing her innocence in the process. Was she going to tell her mother about that as well?

  “You could always get another job,” he offered.

  He didn't understand, she thought, as she shook her head. Why would he understand? Losing a job, then finding a job, are not the kind of thing he has to deal with. This was outside of his experience. “Just a few weeks from Christmas all the stores will have their full complement of staff. Then there's the issue of me lacking a glowing reference.”

  Peppered steak, chips and a large salad bowl were placed in front of them. Carlos barely noticed as he was focused on Sarah's eyes, his own conscience and her worried look.

  “You can always stay in Manchester anyway, without working,” he suggested.

  “I need to work, otherwise I wouldn't be able to pay my share of the rent. It wouldn't be fair on them to stay for free.”

  Carlos helped himself to a few chips from the bowl at the centre of the table. His conscience began to subside as his mind began working out a deal. This is all about economics, supply and demand. Didn't they both have something that the other wanted? He had the money to help her in her time of need, and she had... He gazed upon her face, entranced by her natural beauty.

  She had much to offer. Soft blue eyes, full rosy lips and a firm young body which caused him to act on impulse each time he noticed it. He was noticing her again and his desire rose. Being honest with himself he knew that he hadn't yet had enough of Sarah Daykin. And he suspected she hadn't had enough of him.

  He reached across the table and took her warm and gentle hand in his, stroking her wrist with his thumb. “I know what you can do, Sarah,” he whispered. “It would be beneficial to both of us.”

  “What's that?” She was confused and stared at him with a quizzical look, her senses were distracting her because of the way he was stroking
her wrist.

  “You should come and live with me.”

  Sarah's heart skipped as she tried to take in what he had just said. It was both a thrilling idea and dangerous. It seemed to solve all her problems, or would it just compound them?

  “What do you mean live with you?” She spoke as if she had no grasp of the concept.

  Carlos noticed a flicker of hope in her eyes and rushed to prevent building up her hopes too high. “I don't like this period leading up to Christmas and you will provide me with a most welcome distraction. You need somewhere to live.” He smiled sensually as he pulled her hand towards his lips. “So come and stay with me, until Christmas.”

  Chapter 5

  “You're going to live with some strange guy that you've only just met. Goodness me, Sarah, what are you thinking?”

  Sarah mentally blocked out Gareth's outraged tones as she pulled a dress from her wardrobe and laid it on the bed next to the open suitcase. She fixed her face with a confident looking smile to mask the nervousness she was actually feeling, then turned to face him.

  “It's not for you to worry about, Gareth,” she rebuked gently. “Living here was only ever a temporary arrangement. I am old enough to make my own decisions – in some cultures I would be married with three children by now.”

  Gareth's dark eyes fixed a steely stare on Sarah's. “And he's offering to marry you then, is he? This Carlos bloke, whoever he is?”

  “Rodriguez. His name is Rodriguez,” she spoke, loving the way her lover's name rolled off her tongue. Just saying his name made her lips tingle, like his mouth made them tingle when they kissed. Then the reality of Gareth's words struck home. “Of course we're not getting married, we've only just met.”

  “That's my point. You've only just met and you're moving in with him?”

  “Call me impulsive, if you must.”

  “It would be more appropriate to call you ridiculous.”

  “That's your opinion, Gareth – but it's my decision.”