The Millionaire's Rebellious Mistress - By Catherine George Page 0,52

need time away from me to pursue other interests during the week? That’s the way it usually goes when a woman pleads for time to herself.’

She stared at him, incensed. ‘If you mean seeing another man, it may be usual with the women you know, but it certainly isn’t for me!’

‘If you say so.’ Alex raised a cynical eyebrow. ‘But even if your excuses—’

‘Reasons, not excuses,’ she said hotly.

‘Reasons, excuses—it makes no difference. Do you honestly expect me to hang around waiting for whatever crumbs of your company you can spare from your project?’

Sarah looked at him in disbelief. ‘If that’s the way you feel, no, I don’t,’ she said, after a tense pause. ‘No hanging around expected.’

‘Or required!’

‘I didn’t say that.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s how it came across.’

Sarah took in a deep breath. ‘Talking hypothetically—’

‘By all means let’s do that!’

She hung on to her temper with difficulty. ‘All right. Would you put your London trip off to spend more time with me?’

His shook his head impatiently. ‘That’s different.’

‘Why? Because you’re the vice-chairman of the Merrick Group and I’m just an amateur, one-horse property developer—and a female at that?’ she demanded.

‘Hell and damnation, Sarah, you know I don’t think of you like that.’ The sudden burst of heat vanished from his eyes, leaving ice in its place. ‘Besides,’ he drawled, ‘I was merely requesting some of your leisure time, not your hand in marriage.’

She stared at him in disbelief, feeling the colour drain from her face. ‘Right,’ she said, when she could speak. ‘I think that’s my cue to leave. Goodbye, Alex.’

Instead of sweeping her into his arms, as she’d half hoped, he nodded formally and carried her overnight bag out to the car.

‘Good luck with the barns,’ he said distantly, as she got behind the wheel.

Sarah took a last look at his house, then nodded glacially. ‘Thank you.’

‘Goodbye, Sarah.’ Alex walked down to the gate to open it for her, waited as she drove through into the lane, then added the crowning touch to her day by walking straight into the house instead of watching her out of sight.

During her working days she was able to push it from her mind, but in the evenings Sarah seethed constantly over Alex Merrick’s parting shot. And sometimes regretted laying down rules about how often they saw each other. But deep down she knew her problem was his typical male assumption that now she’d begun sharing his bed she would be happy to drop everything, any time, to do it again. Presumably whenever he had a moment to spare from the demands of his far more illustrious job, no matter how involved she was with hers.

She shrugged. It was her own fault for getting entangled with someone who was not only used to women flinging themselves at him, but who had once had a relationship with one of them that gave him a jaundiced view of her entire sex. Sarah ground her teeth as his taunt about marriage came back to haunt her, and wished passionately she’d had a cutting riposte to hurl back at him. Instead she’d just walked out. Which was probably as good a response as any.

When her doorbell rang as she was clearing up after a belated supper one evening, Sarah’s heart jumped hopefully to her throat, then sank like a stone in disappointment when she heard Dan Mason’s voice over the intercom.

‘Could I see you for a moment, Sarah?’

‘What do you want?’

‘To apologise.’

With reluctance she pressed the buzzer, then opened her door as Dan crossed the hall, looking far from certain of his reception, she noted with satisfaction. ‘You’d better come in,’ she said coolly.

‘Thank you,’ he said, with such humility she eyed him in suspicion as she waved him to the sofa.

‘So what’s brought you down to these parts again, Dan?’ she demanded.

‘My mother’s birthday. But I’m glad of the chance to apologise to you for my behaviour last time I was here.’ He fixed her with persuasive blue eyes. ‘I was out of order. I’m sorry.’

She shrugged indifferently. ‘Apology accepted.’

‘Good.’ He looked down at his expensive shoes for a moment. ‘Word has it you don’t patronise the family hostelry these days.’

‘No. The project we’re working on is a bit far away to pop back for lunch.’

‘How about your evenings?’ He looked up. ‘I know you’ve been seeing something of Alex Merrick, according to the Green Man grapevine. Is that still on?’

‘I’m too busy to see anyone these days,’ she said elliptically. ‘The barn conversions we’re working