Lee Wilkinson - Mistress Against Her Will

As she waited in an agony of fear and humiliation for the axe to fall, he went on, ‘It’s quite refreshing to meet a woman in her twenties who obviously doesn’t belong in that category.’ So he didn’t know. She released the breath she had been unconsciously holding. It was her own sense of guilt and shame that had turned a general reference into a specific incident.

Too wrung out to make any further attempt at conversation and wishing herself anywhere but where she was, she stared blindly ahead and made an effort to at least appear relaxed.

But while she remained taut as a drawn bow string she was well aware that her companion—who was leaning back, his long legs stretched negligently, his feet crossed neatly at the ankles—was completely at ease.

Nothing more was said until they turned into Rolchester Square and drew up outside the modern block of flats.

When the chauffeur opened the car door, as nonchalantly as possible, Gail told the man beside her, ‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ and hastily scrambled out.

She thought for a split second that she had succeeded in leaving him behind, but Zane followed on her heels, saying coolly, ‘If you can rustle up a cup of coffee, I could certainly use one.’

‘Of course,’ she agreed hollowly.

It would be no use attempting to phone Paul now. The internal walls of the flat were paper-thin. Even if she spoke quietly, Zane was bound to realize she was talking to someone.

She could use her mobile to send a text, of course. But if Paul was busy he might not bother to pick up a text message until lunch time, and that would be far too late.

A second or two’s thought convinced her that it would be better to wait until she reached the airport. Then she could slip into the Ladies’ and phone him from there.

If he was willing to let her back out, she could tell Zane that she had had second thoughts and get a taxi home.

Feeling a shade happier, she fished in her bag for the key and let them both into her ground floor flat which, though small, was as pleasant as the two girls could make it.

Dropping her bag on the coffee table and indicating one of the linen-covered armchairs, she asked, ‘Won’t you sit down?’

But, ignoring the polite invitation, Zane followed her through to the tiny kitchen and leaned idly against one of the work surfaces while she put the kettle on and spooned coffee into the cafetière.

Feeling all thumbs because he was watching her, she said, ‘I’m afraid we’ve only got milk. My flatmate’s trying to lose weight and she refused to put cream on the shopping list.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m quite happy with it black.’

Seeing her get out, and fill, a single cup, he queried, ‘Aren’t you going to join me?’

Anxious to bring an end to this nerve-racking situation, she shook her head. ‘I need to write a note for my flatmate before I start packing.’

If her appeal to Paul was successful, she could always tear the note up when she got back. If it wasn’t—and that didn’t bear thinking about—Lynne would need to know what was happening.

CHAPTER THREE

FINDING a pen and a piece of paper, Gail briefly explained the situation, adding that there was a possibility that she might be in the States for a week or two.

Then having propped the note against the kettle where her flatmate was sure to find it, she turned to go through to her bedroom.

‘Don’t bother to pack a flight bag,’ Zane told her. ‘There’ll be everything you may need on the plane. But do remember to bring your passport,’ he added as he took his coffee and returned to the living room.

She lifted her case from the top of the wardrobe and, hardly caring what she put in—as, hopefully, she wouldn’t be needing any of it—packed it. Then, having zipped it up, she searched in the chest of drawers for her passport.

When she returned to the living room, her case in one hand, her passport in the other, Zane rose to his feet with a wholly masculine grace and said approvingly, ‘You’ve been quick… Here, let me take care of those.’

He relieved her of the case and, before she could think of arguing, he’d taken the passport and slipped it into his pocket.

‘Have you packed a swimsuit?’

‘A swimsuit?’ she echoed blankly.

Though a number of hotels boasted a swimming pool these days, she wouldn’t have given it a thought even if she had intended to go through with the trip.

He shrugged dismissively. ‘I can see you haven’t. Never mind. I’m sure we’ll be able to sort out the problem when the time comes. Now, all set?’

Picking up her shoulder bag, she nodded.

‘Then let’s go.’ He shepherded her to the door.

During the drive to the airport he seemed occupied with his thoughts. Gail, who couldn’t wait to get there, sat staring into space, silently repeating, Please let Paul understand …like a mantra.

Though they had a good run through, it seemed an age before they reached the busy airport and made their way to a special VIP parking area.

It was only as they drew up that Gail realized she had still forgotten to pick up her notecase.

As the chauffeur jumped out to open the car door, a young, smartly dressed man who had obviously been awaiting their arrival hurried over.

‘Good morning, Mr Lorenson.’

‘Morning, Derek. How are things?’

‘Fine, thank you, sir. If you’d like to come through, your luggage will all be taken care of.’

Rather than striding ahead and leaving her to follow at his heels, as Paul was apt to do, Zane picked up his briefcase and, putting a hand at her waist, kept her by his side as they made their way into the airport buildings.

While he quickly dealt with the checks and procedures, Gail remained sunk in thought, doing her best to plan ahead. When the formalities were over, instead of handing her back her passport, he put it in his briefcase with the rest of the documents.

Watching it disappear with a sinking heart, she realized that things had gone a lot further than she had intended and she might have to abandon both her passport and her luggage and make a run for it…

But first she had to speak to Paul.

‘If you don’t mind,’ she said hurriedly, ‘I just need to pay a visit to the Ladies.’

He put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘We’re running a little late—there’s a perfectly good bathroom on the plane.’

‘Oh, but I—’

‘As we already have a take-off slot,’ he added with a commanding edge to his voice, ‘we shall be boarding immediately.’

Before she could catch her breath, she found herself escorted outside and across the tarmac to a sleek executive jet which was standing gleaming in the late morning sunshine.

The moment they had been welcomed aboard by a middle-aged, cheerful-faced steward, Zane remarked, ‘Miss North is desperate to wash her hands, so will you show her where the bathroom is, please, Jarvis?’

‘Certainly, sir. If you’ll follow me, Miss North.’

Turning to Gail, Zane said, ‘While you’re gone I’ll have a quick word with Captain Giardino and then we’ll be about ready for take-off.’

Though his face was straight, she knew by the gleam in his eye that he not only knew how embarrassed she felt, but was amused by her discomfort.

Biting her lip and keeping a tight hold on both her temper and her bag, she followed the steward’s white-coated figure to the rear of the plane, where she was shown into a small but luxurious bathroom.

She murmured her thanks and, the moment the door was shut and the bolt pushed firmly into place, unzipped her bag and felt for her mobile.

If she was quick enough there was still a chance she could talk to Paul and get off the plane before the luggage arrived and the main door was closed.

To start with, her fumbling fingers failed to locate it and, cursing the fact that everything was jumbled together in the bottom, she made a more thorough search.

The seconds were ticking away rapidly and when she still couldn’t find it, frantic now, she tipped the entire contents of her bag into the sink and scrabbled through them.

It was a moment before she could really believe what her eyes were confirming. It wasn’t there.

But she couldn’t possibly have lost it. She had taken it off charge and put it in her bag that morning while Paul had stood and waited for her and she hadn’t opened her bag since, apart from taking out and putting back the glasses.

Still, the hideous fact remained that it wasn’t there and the only time the bag had been out of her sight was when she had left it in the living room while she’d gone to pack.

Suppose Zane had taken it?

Oh, don’t be a fool, she told herself crossly. Why on earth should he take my phone?

Unless he had known precisely what she had in mind .

The thought momentarily sent her brain reeling.

But he couldn’t possibly have known. She was being utterly ridiculous. If he’d had any idea of her link with Paul he would never have offered her the job in the first place.

Common sense having restored the balance, her mind went back to the more pressing problem of what she was to do now.

There were two options. She could throw everything away by telling Zane she didn’t want the job after all and insist on leaving the plane. Or she could go through with this trip to the States and see how things worked out.

If she chose the former without consulting him, there was a good chance that Paul, whom she knew bore grudges, might never forgive her. If she chose the latter, she would have to find some way of armouring herself against Zane Lorenson…

A tap at the door made her practically jump out of her skin.

‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Miss North,’ the steward’s voice murmured discreetly, ‘but Mr Lorenson asked me to let you know that any minute now we’ll be starting to taxi in preparation for take-off.’

With a jolt, Gail faced the fact that she had left it too late. She no longer had a choice.

Somehow she found her voice and answered, ‘Please tell him I’ll be there in just a moment.’

Having transferred her belongings from the sink back into her bag, Gail hurried after the steward, much too harassed to be more than vaguely aware of her sumptuous surroundings.

They were already taxiing towards the runway, any minute now they would be airborne, and Paul didn’t even know she’d got the job, let alone that she would soon be on her way to the States.

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