Page 22 of Bedding his Innocent Mistress

“Allow me.” He kissed her quickly and then stepped away. When he returned a moment later, he held her skirt, and a small paper bag.

“A gift. For you,” he held it out to her.

Curiously, she unsealed the top and looked inside. It was a small spray bottle. Perfume? She lifted it out, her eyes skimming the label. And she laughed.

Portable – Stain – Remover.

“It seemed like something you need. A lot.”

Ivy’s eyes met his, and her stomach squeezed. She didn’t want to go! Danger, danger, danger. “Thank you,” she said, in an effort to sound calmer and more confident than she was. “I’ll treasure it always.”

He grinned. “It’ll be good to see you without drinks down the front of your clothes.” He lifted a hand to the valley between her neat breasts. “Although,” he murmured, “It has been nice to have a reason to stare at your breasts.”

“I aim to please,” she quipped, handing the spray to him so she could slide her skirt up her legs and zip it into place.

The awkwardness

swirled around them. Or maybe it was just Ivy. She felt beset by uncertainty. “That’s definitely not how I expected my night to go,” she said with a small smile.

“Nor I, when I woke this morning.” His finger pressed at her chin, lifting her eyes to face his. “You are welcome to spend the night, Ivy.”

But for how long? How many nights? Two? Three? Before long he’d be wanting his space. And she wouldn’t be the kind of woman who got so swept up she didn’t read the signs.

“I have to be at work early tomorrow,” she said with a lopsided smile, walking out of his bedroom and towards the front door of the apartment. “Our new owner’s a hard-ass and I don’t want to get in trouble.”

His laugh chased her. She scooped down for her bag before he could, and her hand was on the door when suddenly his fingers curled around her shoulders and spun her. His mouth took hers. It controlled it. His tongue was an invasion of her mouth and her senses. She collapsed weakly against the door, her mind mushy as he stoked her to a new level of desire.

Stay.

Stay and enjoy this.

Was he saying that, or was it her own traitorous mind shouting at her?

“Tomorrow,” he ground the word into her mouth. “Straight after work. My driver will collect you.”

She shook her head. But to what? She was drowning, adrift at sea, with no idea what she should say or do.

“Tomorrow,” he intoned and now his body pressed to hers and she groaned softly.

“Tomorrow,” she murmured. Twenty-one hours - torture.

Danger, danger, danger, but in that moment, she didn’t completely care.

CHAPTER SIX

THE DAY RAN AWAY from her.

A server in California crashed taking with it a heap of online stores and notably, their news distribution networks for half of the world. Ivy was more technically responsible for interface development and appropriate content distribution but ultimately, when things went wrong, it was all hands on deck.

The first half of the day was spent on complex international calls, strong-arming her teams into proactively problem solving. The latter part required elaborate work-arounds that would take pressure off the server while it was fixed and still provide access to the news app, at least. All with Margerite popping her head around Ivy’s door every few minutes, hands rubbing together frantically, demanding to know ‘what was happening’, leaving Ivy with a pounding headache and a sense that she was never going to get through the day.

It was after nine before the server was brought back online and even then, user log-ins had been lost somewhere and tech teams were working around the clock to retrieve them.

In short, it was a disaster and the obsessive thoughts that had been stirring her mind from the second she’d woken up until she’d arrived at work had been plunged into darkness. There had actually been moments throughout the day when she’d forgotten all about her plans to see Rafe again.

She grimaced as she pulled her phone out of her bag. There was no message from him. Nothing.

Her frown was laced with uncertainty.

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