His Convenient Mistress by Cathy Williams Read Free Book Online

dead or in the process of dying, like the three tomatoes he had uncovered next to the onions.
    He placed the plate in front of her. ‘Now eat.’
    â€˜You like giving orders, don’t you?’ But her mouth was watering and she dived into the food with enthusiasm, not realising how hungry she had been until she saw the bottom of the plate.
    â€˜I prefer to see them as instructions.’
    â€˜And do you give instructions to all the locals?’ she asked, scraping some of the fabulous tomato sauce onto her spoon and relishing it.
    â€˜To the locals? Why would I do that?’
    â€˜Because you live here?’
    â€˜I have a house here and my mother lives here.’
    Sara looked at him over the rim of her spoon. ‘And where do you live?’
    â€˜In London.’
    â€˜Ah. That makes sense.’
    The shutters were back up, he saw. She carefully closed her fork and spoon and took her plate to the sink, offering him the unrevealing view of her back as she washed the crockery and placed it on the draining board next to her.
    â€˜And why does that make sense ?’
    She turned around and perched against the sink, supporting herself with her hands on either side of her, her fingers curled over the edge of the counter.
    â€˜I thought you were a little too urbane for around here,’ she said. ‘A little too sophisticated.’
    â€˜Should I take that as a compliment?’
    â€˜You can take it any way you want to, although it wasn’t meant as one.’
    â€˜I presume you have something against urbane, sophisticated men?’ James stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘Has that got anything to do with Simon’s father, by any chance?’
    The silence stretched tautly between them until Sara forced herself to smile with tight politeness at him. After all, he had cooked her a meal.
    â€˜Thank you so much for cooking for me. It was delicious.’
    â€˜Most sincerely spoken.’ James walked slowly towards her and the closer he got, the tenser she became, until he was standing inches away from her. Then he reached out and caged her in with his hands, leaning towards her so that their faces were only inches apart. ‘But you haven’t answered my question.’
    â€˜And I don’t need to!’ she flared angrily. ‘My life is none of your business. I’m a very private person and I intend to stay that way.’
    â€˜Then, lady, you came to the wrong place. Because I, for one, intend to get right down to the bottom of you.’
    He stood back and walked towards the kitchen door. ‘We’ll meet again.’ And he meant every word of it. Without even realising it, she challenged him, and he had never been able to resist a challenge.

CHAPTER THREE
    T HERE was no need to drive to the nearest sizeable town for her shopping, even though she was sorely tempted to do just that, if only so that she could savour the anonymity which she now found that she perversely craved.
    Nestled cosily against the vast backdrop of mountains was the local village. Sara, with one eye on the map next to her and the other on the twisty road, rounded a bend straight into suburbia.
    From his car seat in the back, Simon was peering through the window in apparent fascination at the scenery. So fascinated, in fact, that his mouth was parted to accommodate a thumb he had forgotten to suck.
    And yes, she had to admit that the scenery was spectacular. From the Rectory to the small town, there were times when the winding road almost seemed to be an insolent intrusion into Mother Nature. Every so often, a sudden bend in the road would offer a tantalising glimpse of flat, glassy water in the distance. She had no idea whether this was an estuary or a loch but, whatever it was, Simon had been enthralled. She, slightly less so. The more magnificent the landscape, the more she longed for the concrete jungle in which she had spent all of her twenty-six years. Noise