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“If you think I’m taking on the job of your part-time mistress, you’re very much mistaken!” About the Author Title Page CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE Copyright
“If you think I’m taking on the job of your part-time mistress, you’re very much mistaken!”
“I did not say that,” Jack Wilder retorted curtly.
“That’s exactly what it sounded like. Or are we talking about a serious commitment?”
“Are you seriously suggesting...? You aren’t talking about marriage, surely?”
“Not necessarily,” Laura snapped. “I’m talking about something you clearly don’t understand—plain, boring, old-fashioned commitment. But what you’ve really been saying all along is, ‘If Laura is a good little girl, she may get to see the great Jack Wilder—when he isn’t too busy seducing any other passing female who might catch his eye.’ ”
“For an intelligent woman you certainly can be incredibly stupid at times.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but your idea of a relationship certainly isn’t mine!” As far as she could see, Mr Loverman was interested only in one very short, three-letter word: sex!
MARY LYONS was born in Toronto, Canada, moving to live permanently in England when she was six, although she still proudly maintains her Canadian citizenship. Having married and raised four children, she finds that her life nowadays is relatively peaceful—unlike her earlier years when she worked as a radio announcer, reviewed books and, for a time, lived in a turbulent area of the Middle East. She still enjoys a bit of excitement, combining romance with action, humor and suspense in her books whenever possible.
Mr Loverman is Mary Lyons’s twenty-fifth title for Harlequin!
Mr. Loverman
Mary Lyons
CHAPTER ONE
‘YOU want me to do...what?’ Laura frowned at the man sitting at the other side of the desk.
Besides being tall, dark and outrageously attractive, Jack Wilder was also well-known for possessing a good sense of humour. And Laura liked to think that she, too, was quite capable of enjoying a joke. But not first thing on a Monday morning, when she was still suffering from jet lag after the long flight from Tahiti.
‘Would you...um ...would you mind repeating that again?’ Laura muttered, wishing that she didn’t feel quite so tired and woolly-headed. Especially when her employer was looking his usual elegant and immaculate self.
In fact, other than the deep tan covering his arrogant, hawk-like features, there was nothing to suggest that Jack himself had only flown back to London a few days ago, leaving her to sort out any remaining difficulties on the set. And there had certainly been plenty of those, she reminded herself grimly. The latest remake of Mutiny on the Bounty had clearly been jinxed from the start, while dealing with that temperamental film star Craig Jordan had proved to be a complete nightmare.
‘I was just saying that I’m really very sorry to have to take this decision. Unfortunately, under the circumstances, I don’t see that I have any alternative. I’m afraid that I’m going to have to ask you to go.’
Laura stared glassy-eyed at her employer, trying to cudgel her weary brain into some sort of working order, because there was obviously something very wrong with this conversation.
‘I didn’t get back home from the airport until late last night. So I’m not feeling too bright this morning,’ she told him with a tired smile, brushing a stray lock of bright auburn hair from her face. ‘Exactly where do you want me to go? And what “circumstances” are you talking about?’
Jack Wilder remained silent, his grey eyes unfathomable beneath their heavy lids as he studied the girl in front of him, before swivelling around in his chair to gaze out of the large plate-glass window of his office.
‘As you know, ever since I founded this theatrical agency, I’ve always insisted on my staff obeying one basic, golden rule,’ he said at last, continuing to stare out at the heavy traffic forcing its way down Shaftesbury Avenue. ‘And that is never, under any circumstances, to mix business with pleasure.’
‘So...?’
‘Your brains really are scrambled this morning, aren’t they?’ he drawled, a tight note of exasperation in his voice. ‘I was referring to our own personal relationship, of course. The fact that we spent last weekend together.’
‘Oh—er—right...’ she muttered, staring down at the hands in her lap and hoping that the thick, heavy hair falling down over her face would successfully hide her flushed cheeks. Surely this was neither the time nor the place to discuss such a very private subject?
‘Craig buttonholed me at the airport, just before I left,’ Jack continued with a shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘Unfortunately, he left me in no doubt of his feelings about you, and...’
‘Oh, is that it?’ Laura gave a nervous gurgle of laughter. ‘For heaven’s sake—you can’t seriously believe that I somehow got involved with Craig Jordan? OK, I know he was pestering the life out of me,’ she added quickly as her employer remained ominously silent, ‘but surely you know that I can’t stand the awful man? As far as I’m concerned, he’s hell on wheels! Besides, is it likely that I’d even look at him, when you and I...er...?’
‘That’s precisely the point I’ve been trying to make,’ he said, his lips tightening as he stared out of the window. ‘Believe me—Craig was very vocal on the subject of theatrical agents who sleep with their staff.’
‘I bet he was!’ she muttered grimly. ‘But only because he couldn’t get anywhere with me. He was obviously out to make trouble. Believe me, that scumbag really hates to see anyone else having a good time.’
‘You may well be right about Craig—but it’s no good trying to avoid the issue. Despite the enchantment of those hot, tropical nights in the South Pacific, I should have known better than to give in to temptation—however enticing it may have seemed at the time. Unfortunately, I can now see that our brief...er...affair was a very unfortunate mistake.’
‘A mistake...?’
‘I’m not blaming you—it’s entirely my own stupid fault,’ he admitted with a heavy sigh, brushing long, tanned fingers through his dark hair. ‘Nevertheless, rules are rules. And they apply as much to me as