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Her lips were pressed tight together. If he was not mistaken, her hands had started to curl into fists before she dropped them to her sides.
“Marvelous,” she said with a certain brightness he could see was false. As she, herself, was false, no matter his body’s response. “Is that what you want?”
“Normally I am the one who makes this offer.” He smirked. “It is not pressed upon me by a woman desperate to clear the name of a brother she would be better off disowning.”
“Families are complicated.”
“I thought my family was complicated. I am forever reading fables the media has created to explain things between my brother or myself. Or tales of my late father.” He studied her, then affected a measure of outraged astonishment. “But I will confess, when I granted you this appointment, I never expectedthis.”
Her chin lifted higher. “What did you expect?”
“Excuses.” He eyed her until she flushed. “What a martyr you are, Kendra.”
Her eyes, that intriguing shade of amber that sometimes looked like gold, glittered. “I would never call myself a martyr.”
“Oh, no? And yet here you are. Sacrificing yourself.” He laughed when all she did was glare at him. “You do not understand how this works, do you? You’re supposed to at leastactas if you’re motivated by uncontrollable lust, whatever your true motivations.”
“Tell me what you need,” Kendra implored him, her voice tight. “There’s no need to play all these games, is there?”
“But perhaps what I want from you is the game.”
She looked away then, her throat working. “Very well then.”
“But how will we come to terms?” Balthazar mused, and stopped pretending he wasn’t fully enjoying himself. “There are so many considerations. You will not need my financial support, clearly, as you will be paying off a debt. I will require full access, of course, but that is easy enough. I have any number of properties that will suit.”
“Access,” she echoed. “Full access.”
He laughed. “What is it you think a mistress does?”
She cleared her throat, still looking away. “To be honest, I thought it was a silly, archaic word to describe a rich man’s relationships.”
“You can call it a relationship if you like. In truth, it is a business arrangement. I find it is better to spell out any and all expectations in advance, the better to avoid unpleasant misunderstandings.” He shrugged again, expansively. “I want what I want. When I want it.”
To her credit, she turned back and met his gaze. “By which, you mean sex.”
“Sex, yes. And anything else I desire.” He laughed at the expression on her face. The one she tried to hide. “That could mean accompaniment. The ability to charm business associates at tedious dinners. Clever conversation, sparkling repartee, and all while looking like a bauble most men cannot afford. But if I were you, Kendra, I would focus more on the sex. I require rather a lot.”
He was fascinated by the way her expression changed, then. By the way the color on her face matched. If he didn’t know better—if he didn’t know to his detriment that she was a loaded, aimed weapon—he might have been tempted to think she was doing this against her will. Or if not precisely against her will, without the level of enthusiasm he would have anticipated from an operator like her. Like all the members of her family.
Because surely she had done things like this before or why would they have sent her?
You know she’s done things like this before,he reminded himself sharply.She’s done it to you.
“Are you prepared?” she asked him after a moment, and though her voice was slightly husky, there was no hint of uncertainty about her. She was hiding it well—another indication this was a role she was playing. “If you take me as your mistress, you will be linked with my family. In a way I’m guessing you will not like.”
“I do not think that I am the one who will dislike it most.”
“You and I can stand here and speak of a business arrangement, but I think you know the tabloids will assume that it’s a more conventional relationship.”
“If the tabloids did not make assumptions, they would not exist.” He made a dismissive gesture. “This is of no interest to me.”
“All right then.” She squared her shoulders as if prepared to march forth into battle. “How do these things normally begin?”
He might have admired her bravado had it not been predicated on how little she actually wanted him. And how little she was attempting to hide that fact from him.
“I have not invited you to be my mistress, Kendra,” he rebuked her. Mildly enough. “This discussion, while illuminating, is nothing more than academic.”
“What do you mean, academic?” Color flooded her cheeks again, and he found himself far more interested than he ought to have been. Fascinated, even, despite himself. “I’m offering myself to you.”
