The Accidental Mistress by Portia Da Costa Read Free Book Online Page A

heck, woman, would you even want to get married if
he
wanted to?
    If ever there was a man who came with complications, John Smith was that man.

4
Strangers in the Night
    ‘I think I should go home tonight.’
    It was what he’d been going to suggest himself, so why did Lizzie’s announcement cut him so hard?
    ‘Do you really want to? Can’t you stay here?’
    Oh, why oh why had he said that?
    Way to sound whiny and possessive, man.
    He’d made her feel awkward now, he could tell. She was frowning, her smooth white brow puckered beneath the thick black fringe that he adored so much.
    ‘I’d like to … I really would, John. But I think it’s for the best.’ She reached out across the table they were sitting at, in the Lawns Bar now, and laid her fingers on his hand. Her touch was soft, almost like living light, but it had the old instantaneous effect on him. His cock lurched to erection, sudden and hard, as if she’d reached into his trousers and touched him there instead. ‘This is all so new. I’ve had a wonderful time today … a beautiful time … but I don’t think we should rush too fast. After all, if you add up all the time we’ve spent together, we barely really know each other at all.’
    But I want you! I want you right now. And I’ll want you in the night, even if I don’t manage to sleep a wink!
    It was the inner voice of the horny, ridiculous young man he’d once been, governed solely by his passions and his cock. The wiser tones of John, the forty-six-year-old who’d made far too many mistakes, told him not to be a petulant idiot. He-man possessiveness had screwed things up for him in the past, and he wasn’t going to let that happen with Lizzie.
    ‘You’re right … I know … It has been sudden, hasn’t it?’ He scanned her face. Was she disappointed? Did she really
want
the caveman approach, and for him to metaphorically sling her over his shoulder and carry her back to bed for another round of ruthless, banging sex?
    It was difficult to tell. She looked a little young and confused, and very sweet. Bless her, she had even less idea of what to do about this thing of theirs than he had. Which was another reason to give her all the space she needed.
    Don’t stifle her, you dolt. You know what happened with … with Clara. You were greedy and possessive then, and look what happened.
    ‘Yes, it has. And then there’s your sleeping thing too. There’s only one room and one bed. We’ll both be shattered if we stay awake all night. Especially …’
    A sugar pink blush stained her cheeks. It both enchanted him and made him harder than ever. She was saying that she’d stay awake for him, and with him, if he wanted her to.
    His sleeping thing, she’d called it. Now more than ever he wished he could conquer the problem. For over twenty years, since his incarceration, he’d found it impossible to sleep with someone else in the room. No amount of therapy could overcome the way he’d conditioned himself during those long, terrified nights, and he wouldn’t succumb to medication, either. Bewitching as the thought of sleeping inLizzie’s arms was, in reality, he’d only ever managed to drift off – for a scant few moments – on a couple of occasions. And then his psyche, memory, call it what you will, had roused him, clanging a red alert. If he consciously attempted to fall asleep with her, it just wouldn’t happen, and if he lay awake beside her warm, tempting, luscious body … well … the inevitable reaction would occur.
    They’d probably end up fucking the entire night away.
    Which was all very well and thrilling in books, but in practical terms, impossible. Although the thought of it still made caveman-John want to leap over the table and shag her right there on that accommodating wide red leather banquette.
    Now it was
his
turn to colour up, and Lizzie grinned as if she’d read his intentions.
    He twisted his hand and enfolded hers. The shape of her palm and fingers was so