Cathy Williams - Constantinou's Mistress Read online

  ‘You are not dancing,’ he pointed out.

  ‘Blame me.’ Robert laughed and looked affectionately at Lucy. ‘Luce wanted to dance but I told her that I was born with two left feet. If we went on the dance floor, I think Management would be forced to chuck us out for being a health hazard to the other dancers.’ He laughed and Lucy smiled nervously back at him. Her feeling of relaxation had disappeared. First had been Robert’s astounding marriage proposal and now this, Nick Constantinou showing up here, obviously with the inten­tion of seeing the man who had had the temerity to have a date with her on a night when she had been asked to work overtime. Maybe he thought that she had been ly­ing about her movements and he had decided to check it out himself, like a headmaster phoning a pupil’s house just to make sure that he wasn’t playing truant.

  Or maybe he was just curious to see what sort of man she could get.

  ‘You’re far too modest, Robert,’ she said, half turning away from the dark figure towering over them and link­ing her fingers through Robert’s.

  ‘At any rate,’ Nick said smoothly, ‘this music is not to be ignored. May I?’ He held his hand out to her, requesting her to dance with him.

  ‘1’d rather not, actually. I’ve only...um...just finished eating and I’d really rather sit and let my food digest before I go anywhere near a dance floor. Anyway, won’t your... party be missing you?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure my party can do without my scintillating company for a few minutes.’ His eyes did a leisurely appraisal of her, managing to eliminate Robert totally from his line of vision. ‘Would you,’ he said, finally turning his attention to the other man, ‘be able to do without your...girlfriend for the duration of a dance? I promise I will take very good care of her, make sure that I return her to you in one piece.’

  ‘I think I might be able to spare her for a little while,’ Robert said, following Nick’s lead.

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! Will both of you please stop talking over my head? I can make my own decisions!’

  Nick raised his eyebrows in apparent offended sur­prise.

  ‘Oh, go on, Luce. You know you want to dance, and we both know that there’s no way you’re going to get me anywhere near that dance floor. We can carry on our conversation later.’

  Lord, the conversation! Lucy had almost managed to forget all about that. Torn between her natural instinct to firmly but politely ignore the man looming above her, who had now seen fit to lean forward, supporting himself with his two hands on the small circular table, and her dread that Robert had not yet accepted her statement that she was far from ready to commit to any proposal of marriage, Lucy stood up with a forced smile.

  At least the jazz band was having the decency to be playing fast, upbeat numbers. She would have a quick dance, without even the need to make any conversation, and hopefully when she returned to the table Robert would have put her reply to his question into some kind of perspective.

  With that in mind, she allowed herself to be led to the dance floor.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE pressure of Nick’s hand on her elbow as he led her away from the table sent a shiver of dreaded excitement shooting through her and she half glanced over her shoulder to remind herself that Robert was her date and the sort of man she should be with.

  ‘He will be fine,’ Nick murmured, noting the direction of her gaze.

  The promise of a quick, fast dance evaporated as the band began playing a slow tune and she found herself pulled against him and held in place by one large hand pressed into the limp groove of her back. She could smell the exotic undertones of whatever aftershave he was wearing, mingled with his natural masculine scent, and her nostrils flared slightly.

  ‘Did you come here to spy on me?’ Lucy asked tightly. The palms of her hands were resting lightly on his shoulders, as though she might take flight at any moment and he was prepared for the eventuality. As if sensing the inclination, he raised one hand to the back of her head so that she was nestling into the nape of his neck.

  ‘Yes,’ he said bluntly, not bothering to disguise the truth. He hadn’t intended to. He had dutifully sat through his six o’clock meeting with his financial director, in fact had spent two solid hours going through the accounts of the Tradewinds, noting when profits had begun to de­cline, working out theories, and thinking with irritable regularity about his secretary and what she was doing with her mystery date.

  ‘You did?’ Lucy asked incredulously. ‘Why?’

  ‘Curiosity.’ Nick shrugged. ‘I wanted to meet this date of yours for myself and I knew that if I asked you to bring him along to one of our social functions you would have declined. Politely but decisively.’

  ‘That’s...that’s despicable!’ Lucy sought for an ade­quate expression of outrage.

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ Nick agreed. ‘But curiosity can be a very powerful lure.’ He himself had not known how powerful until he had found himself hailing a cab to bring him to the restaurant.

  ‘What were you curious about?’ Lucy asked tightly. ‘Did you think that I might have been lying? Making him up?’

  ‘Now, why on earth would you think that I would imagine that?’

  ‘Because I don’t advertise my private life all around the office!’ she snapped in self-defence.

  Instead of answering, he pulled her even closer so that she could feel the hardness of his thighs pressed against her. His dancing, she thought wildly, was positively in­decent. She tried to manoeuvre herself so that she could see what Robert was up to, guiltily aware that, whatever prim outrage she was expressing, her body was reacting in quite a different manner to the man she was dancing with.

  ‘Well, now you’re being ridiculous.’ Nick could feel her itching to get away from him and back to the blan­keted safety of her date, but aligned to that he could also feel her body, which was singing a completely different line, and he felt a spurt of irrational satisfaction.

  He had spent two years locked up in a debilitating marriage, one in which the joy of sex had gradually been replaced by the dull acknowledgement that he had some­how become a man whose appetite was satisfied with loveless coupling. He and Gina had continued to share the same bed and their bodies had still met with a certain amount of physical need, but that had been it. For the last six months of their married life they had not made love at all. He had buried his normal red-blooded urges in his work, always intending to finish their marriage once and for all, never expecting the hand of fate to do the job on his behalf.

  And since then he had thrown himself into the fast world of sophisticated women and physically satisfying but emotionally empty sex.

  Except, he was discovering, most of the time the sex, was not physically that satisfying. It sated him tempo­rarily but still left him with a hollow suspicion that he had somehow missed something, something vital.

  Only one instance sprang to mind when every pore in his body had been held in a trance, when lovemaking had fulfilled every nerve, muscle and fibre. That one time with the woman he was now holding. Or was that just an illusion?

  He didn’t know. He just knew that when she had men­tioned going on a date, with that pink-cheeked embar­rassment that spoke volumes about how serious it was, he had been fired up with an unrecognisable urgency to follow her.

  ‘And has your curiosity been satisfied?’ Lucy asked tartly.

  ‘My curiosity will only be satisfied when I discover what it is that you see in him.’

  ‘With all due respect, that’s none of your business!’

  ‘I only have your welfare at heart.’

  ‘No, you don’t, and don’t imagine that you can fool me for an instant with that pious voice of yours. Don’t forget,’ she added drily, ‘I see too much of you at work not to know how you operate.’

  ‘And how is that?’ He was enjoying this conversation. It made a change to be argued with even though he knew that he would eventually and inevitably win the argu­ment. He barely noticed the slight pause as one slow num
ber finished and moved seamlessly into another. And nor, he thought with another one of those spurts of satisfaction, had she.

  ‘Pious is not the adjective that springs to mind,’ Lucy commented, unable to resist a smile tug her lips as she tried to imagine Nick Constantinou being pious.

  ‘What is?’ he prompted.

  His breath felt warm against her cheek and suddenly she was exquisitely conscious of his body beneath its expensive, cleverly tailored sheath. All hardness and muscle. She was also exquisitely conscious of her own and the fact that her dress was of such flimsy, stretchy fabric that it was almost as though she wasn’t clothed at all.

  ‘Hard-working,’ she said, trying to reduce their con­versation to the prosaic and wondering whether it was her imagination or whether he actually seemed to be actively pressing her body closer to his than was strictly necessary. She felt another pang of guilt that she was enjoying this. She should have broken off their far too intimate dance to rejoin Robert at the table.

  ‘Anything else?’ he asked softly, fully aware that he was flirting outrageously. He wanted to bury his mouth against that soft neck and only the inappropriateness of such an action managed to bring him to heel.

  ‘Ambitious,’ Lucy said seriously. ‘Intelligent and ruthless when it comes to the crunch.’

  ‘Ruthless?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Anything like what?’ she asked innocently and she could feel him grin wickedly against her neck. It sent shivers of awareness darting through her body like dan­gerous electric currents.

  ‘Well,’ Nick drawled, ‘hard-working and ambitious. Not the most scintillating adjectives in the world, al­though I should be grateful that you did not tack nice on the end.’

  ‘Because you’re not.’ She sneaked a glance through the crowd on the dance floor and spotted Robert nursing his drink, apparently in pleasant contemplation of what was going on around him. Robert was nice, she thought suddenly, looking away.

  ‘OK, then, what about sexy?’

  ‘What about it?’

  He felt her flounder momentarily and this time his satisfied response was a piercing indication of what he wanted. What he really wanted. Her. He wanted to dis­cover for himself whether their lovemaking had been as glorious as his hazy memory told him or whether it had been just his mind playing tricks on him. And, as she said, she knew him probably better than anyone else did. She certainly saw enough of him, in all his various moods. She would understand that a relationship was not on his agenda. Unlike the women he had dated, who always seemed to understand perfectly at the beginning when he told them that he was not interested in com­mitment, only to find themselves seduced by the possi­bility of changing his mind somewhere along the way.

  ‘You failed to include that in your list of descriptions.’

  ‘Robert... will be worried if I don’t get back to the table,’ Lucy muttered in confused panic. A fine film of perspiration broke out over her body.

  ‘He’s a big boy. Surely he can look after himself for a few minutes without having a nervous breakdown.’

  ‘We need to get back,’ she babbled on. ‘You never told me, was the meeting with Bob productive? I... Did either of you manage to get hold of Rawlings?’

  ‘What have you been telling him about me?’ He ig­nored her desperate attempt to change the subject and instead folded himself closer to her; as if keen not to miss a word she might be saying.

  ‘Telling him about you? I haven’t been telling him anything about you!’

  ‘No? Why did he say that I was the big, bad wolf who always got his girl to spend her free time working at the office?’ Somehow he managed to invest the big, bad wolf part of his description with an image of wicked excitement.

  ‘I told him that I was lucky to get away tonight be­cause you wanted me to work late, that’s all,’ Lucy said faintly.

  ‘He’s an...what did you tell me that he did for a liv­ing?’

  ‘He’s an accountant.’ Lucy didn’t for a moment think that he had forgotten. Nick Constantinou never forgot anything. He was capable of delving into the vast re­sources of his memory and plucking out minuscule facts and figures that other people had relegated to oblivion.

  ‘Ah, yes, of course.’ Now that he had decided on his course of action, he was surprised to find himself feeling almost happy. Happier than he had felt for some time, in point of fact. Of course, there would be one or two details to take care of, one of which was waiting for him at his table, also nursing a drink. Perhaps he could introduce her to Robert... The thought made him smile. No, perhaps not. Marcia, whom he had met briefly two months ago at an intimate dinner party of fifty-odd peo­ple, which had been hosted by his girlfriend at the time, would demolish Robert in minutes. Still, at least there would be no tearful partings. This was his first date with her and nothing would be expected beyond dinner and fine wine. If she was disappointed with the outcome, then he would be charmingly apologetic.

  It did not cross his mind for a second that Lucy would turn him down.

  ‘As an accountant I am sure he appreciates the fact that you often work irregular hours.’

  ‘Robert tries not to let his working life intrude on his private one,’ Lucy explained. ‘Which isn’t to say that he doesn’t put in long hours. He does. He just doesn’t de­vote all his spare time to his job. He does just enough to warrant his bonuses, and he’s very well settled in his work.’ Lucy frowned to herself, thinking of all the good things Robert had to offer on a permanent basis.

  ‘Admirable,’ Nick said in a voice which managed to convey the opposite.

  ‘Yes, I think so.’ She pulled away as the band finished playing, determined not to find herself pressed against him for another number. ‘Now, I think it’s time I got back to my table. Who are you here with?’

  ‘Oh, just a couple of old friends. By the way, what did I interrupt when I came to your table?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You were telling Robert that you were too sensible not to go away and think about what he had said.’ With Robert within sight, Nick lightly rested his hand on Lucy’s arm, guiding her towards the table. In his mind’s eye he could envisage their naked bodies together. He tried to remember what she had looked like, what she had felt like, that one time when she had thrown caution to the wind, but all he could remember was the feeling of fulfilment that had washed over him like a wave. The details had been forgotten and the challenge of discov­ering how accurate his memory was made his blood swirl with sudden, hot excitement.

  ‘Well, I shall see you tomorrow.’ Their table was within sight and she waved at Robert, half turning to­wards Nick with a smile of dismissal on her face. ‘Thanks for the dance.’

  But Nick did not appear in a desperate hurry to return to his table. He reasoned that Marcia would be fine for a few minutes longer in the company of his cousin. Stavros was nothing if not entertaining and Marcia was clearly in the mood to be entertained. She had been drinking steadily for two hours and would probably not have noticed his absence from the table.

  ‘You did me a favour.’ Robert rose from his chair so that he could pull Lucy’s out for her. Always the perfect gentleman. ‘Poor girl would have ended up with man­gled feet. Care to join us for a drink?’

  Nick glanced over his shoulder, wondering whether he might be pushing his luck if he stayed a little longer. He wanted to find out a bit more about this man, dis­cover what it was that Lucy saw in him. More to the point, he needed to establish in his own mind that there was no competition there.

  Now that he had established his course of action, he saw absolutely nothing wrong in pursuing his goal. All was fair in love and war and she wasn’t a married woman.

  Lucy, following his eyes, glimpsed through the crowds to the table he was searching out and immedi­ately saw the stunning brunette laughing alongside a tall, dark-haired man who had a drink in his hand. So that was his old friend. Hardly old, she thought with a s
udden pang of jealousy that was extinguished almost before it had time to lodge.

  ‘I very much doubt Mr Constantinou will be able to do that, Robert.’ Impulsively she took Robert’s hand in hers, hardly aware that she was doing it, only aware of the brunette, who had spotted Nick, waving merrily at him through the crowds. ‘His friends are waiting for him.’

  ‘Shame. Still, it was nice to meet you, and hopefully the next time we meet it will be at a celebration...’ Robert slid his eyes over to Lucy and Nick looked at the both of them narrowly. Celebration? What celebration? He would find out in the morning. That settled, he leaned over their table, making deliberately sure that his arm brushed hers in passing,

  ‘Now, you look after this young lady and make sure that she’s fit for work tomorrow.’ He glanced sideways, his dark eyes tangling with hers. ‘I don’t want to have to cope with any hangovers.’

  ‘You won’t,’ Lucy said with a bland smile in return.

  No, he didn’t think that he would. Lacy would never indulge in excessive drinking, so hangovers would never be a problem for her.

  But when nine-thirty rolled round the following morn­ing he edgily began to wonder whether he had under­estimated his secretary. He had never known her to ar­rive this late. And she had looked absolutely fine when she had left the restaurant. He knew because he had watched her every single step of the way as she had allowed Robert to help her on with her jacket, then linked her arm through his as they weaved a path through the jumble of people.

  Her call came through when he was about to dial her mobile phone himself.

  ‘I’m sorry. I won’t be coming in to work today, Nick.’

  You won’t be coming in to work. And may I ask why not?’ It was her first day off sick and he attempted to sound sympathetic but it was a struggle.

  ‘I feel pretty awful. I think I’ve come down with something.’

  He could well imagine what and the thought did not predispose him to feel a shred of compassion.

  You seemed well enough last night.’