Mistress for Hire by Letty James Page B

hard chest within, the caged strength of the lion.
    Kiss me. Gérard’s eyes flared as if he could read her mind. His head lowered, his mouth capturing hers, and she felt a touch of heaven in his kiss.
    He made her feel beautiful and desirable. He held her as if he would never let her go. Sweeping her jaw in a possessive caress, he held her still as his mouth slanted over hers, taking what she willingly gave. She returned Gérard’s fierceness, stretching up on her tiptoes as she dug her fingers into his starched cotton shirt. How she wanted him. Her heart pounded in her ears, almost covering the sound of their frantic breaths. Gérard’s hand trailed down her throat to cover her breast and she moaned into his mouth.
    He thrust her away, his chest heaving in a shuttering breath. “I don’t make love to drunken women.”
    “You’re lying.” Clearly, she’d had enough to drink to argue about drinking. Nikki shook her head, fighting for self-control, but not able to stop her big mouth. She sat down on the edge of the tub, trailing her hand in the hot water as she avoided his gaze, wanting to shrink into herself. But no, she wouldn’t be a doormat anymore. Been there. Done that.
    “You’d make love to me if we were in the tub. Covered with warm water. Slick, soapy bubbles. Two more minutes and you’d have joined me.” How experienced she sounded to her own ears. How naïve she felt. Tim had always laughed when she tried to seduce him. This man would enjoy it. And probably had women doing it all the time.
    “Is that a proposition, Mademoiselle Sommers?” His storm-colored eyes gleamed under his raised eyebrows. He stepped toward her.
    Nikki held her ground as she wiped her wet hand on her skirt. She could feel the blush, hot and pulsing on her chest and face. She hadn’t been the one groping his thigh during dinner. The remembered word negotiations made her hesitate. She shivered. All the magic dust evaporated into confusion.
    “I simply wanted to take a bath. I feel dirty.” Nikki chickened out and wrapped her arms around her chest.
    Gérard raked his hand through his hair. “Guilty conscience, Mademoiselle Sommers?”
    Nikki’s eyes snapped up to glare at him. “No.” She stood up, her feelings giving her whiplash—one second she wanted to do so much more than kiss him, the next second she wanted to strangle him. “It’s been a long day. I slept in the train station last night.” She eyed the disappearing bubbles mournfully as Gérard flipped the tub stopper lever. So much for a moment of paradise.
    Why had he stopped? Gérard lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. She stared back, trying to hide any longing from her eyes.
    “I didn’t realize. Take a shower.” He nodded behind her to the glass stall. “I’ll bring up coffee.” He turned on the shower and closed the door firmly behind him.
    What had she been thinking? Gérard had been the responsible one to stop their kiss before things went any further. She could have thrown away her best chance at having enough money for cooking school. Stupid. Stupid. She stripped off the rest of her clothes with shaking hands and got into the steaming hot shower.
    Wrapping her hair in a thick white towel, Nikki caught sight of herself in the mirror and sighed. If only she had her Hint of Berry lipstick to brighten her milky pale face. A silver-backed hairbrush lay with a mirror on the counter, but Nikki didn’t dare use it. Instead, she finger-combed her hair and wrapped herself in the terry cloth robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. An embroidered blue B decorated the breast pocket and the hem hung down to mid-calf. Clearly not Gérard’s, so was it the designated lovers’ robe? Nikki didn’t want to think about other women.
    Gérard stood as Nikki came out of the bathroom. Swathed in a spare guest robe, she looked young and fragile, so different than the confident woman who had perched herself on top of his desk. Her hair hung in wet