Secretary by Day, Mistress by Night. Maggie CoxЧитать онлайн книгу.
a slender multi-coloured chiffon scarf and proceeded to tie her flowing dark hair up into a loosely fashioned ponytail.
‘That okay?’
‘You look adorable.’ Her companion grinned. ‘Get in and make yourself comfortable. The door’s unlocked.’
Folding her long-legged, slender, jean-clad frame into the passenger seat, Maya relaxed as far as she was able in the small space provided. Easing back into the softly luxurious leather seat, she silently admired the immaculate burr walnut veneer that covered the dash and centre console, and the amazing craftsmanship that had produced what her father had once informed her was one of the country’s bestselling sports cars ever.
He should have known, because when she was little he had owned two of them—one in red, like this, and another in black. Of course they were long gone now. Sold to help pay off some of the horrendous debts his wildly reckless lifestyle had accrued…
Hearing the lid of the boot slam, she turned to see Blaise lower his own tall, athletic, black-clad frame into the driver’s seat. Even though his legs were long, like hers, Maya was quietly amazed at how effortless he made every movement look…like a sublime symphony…every note in perfect accord and nothing remotely out of sync. A waft of quietly stirring aftershave imbued with sultry notes of sandalwood and musk assailed senses already tested to their limit by his charismatic presence. She tried to steel herself against it.
‘This is a concourse model, isn’t it?’ she commented, her fingertips lightly touching the walnut veneer on the dash.
‘Yes, it is. It’s an original model, but I paid a small fortune to get everything restored down to the last nut and bolt back to the way it was. You know about classic cars?’ her companion asked in surprise.
‘Not really. I just knew someone once who had a model like this.’ Maya stared out through the windscreen instead of into the disturbing blue eyes that seemed to be playing such havoc with her insides. The huskily soft chuckle beside her was equally disconcerting.
‘You probably know a lot more than you’re admitting, right? That’s okay…I don’t mind you being a woman of mystery. It simply makes me want to get to know you even more.’
He shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was even more alluring and beautiful dressed in jeans and a simple white cotton shirt than she’d been in that eyepopping black dress that had paid such mouthwatering homage to her curves last night. And that dress had caused him one hell of a sleepless night, he recalled now, his hands tightening on the MG’s steering wheel. Seeing Jonathan Faraday’s drunken paws all over her had also been a factor in ensuring Blaise’s sleep was fitful. He had been a breath away from laying the man out flat. Maya had clearly been frightened by Faraday’s clumsy inebriated attentions, and all his latent protective instincts towards women had rushed to the fore. She would have had only to indicate to him by a mere glance that she wanted him to step in and her licentious boss would have been nursing much more than a hangover this morning.
When he was about ten years old, Blaise’s actor father had struck his mother savagely across the face during one of their many bitter rows—an event that, after that shocking first time, had become a more or less regular feature of his childhood, he was sorry to say. Blaise had leapt on him, kicking and screaming. He had truly wanted to kill him at that moment. The same strong feelings of fury and resentment had roared through his bloodstream last night in the corridor, when he’d seen Jonathan behave like some despicable Neanderthal.
Now Blaise realised just how much the bewitching Maya Hayward had been on his mind since she’d inadvertently burst in on him in the drawing room last evening, leaving a trail of sexy perfume in her wake and stirring the kind of fantasies that would be strictly rated ‘adults only’. He definitely wanted to get to know her better. It had been quite some time since he’d enjoyed an exciting affair, and this could potentially be his most exciting liaison yet.
When he’d found her in the hall searching through the phonebook the pure raw desire that had coursed through him had been fierce enough to almost make him stumble. Now he realised Jonathan Faraday’s loss was definitely his gain, and he made no apology for the mercenary-sounding realisation whatsoever…
At some point during the journey it started to rain, and Blaise had no choice but to put the MG’s top up. His bewitching passenger didn’t even notice, however. To his surprise and amusement she’d fallen asleep—head on one side and her soft breathing making him feel strangely calm and peaceful—as he smoothly steered the vehicle onto the motorway heading towards London. Almost straight away he had decided he would forgo the ride to the station and take her all the way home instead. The faintest suggestion of a smile touched his lips. It had been worth staying at Faraday’s house last night to now have the opportunity that had opened up to him. The only possible impediment to him getting to know Maya more intimately, he mused, was if there was a man in her life already. The idea caused a totally disproportionate stab of jealousy to slice through his middle.
Glancing sidelong at her now, he let his gaze skim the arresting, fulsome curve of her breast nestling beneath crisp white cotton, and the long, slender length of her denim-clad thigh. The hot, sweet need that immediately surged through Blaise’s bloodstream made him clench his jaw to contain it, and it was only out of pure necessity and commonsense that he returned his full attention back to the road…
She felt warm and safe, and the sound of the rain pattering on the roof somehow gave her a wonderful sense of inviolability and protection. The experience was so delicious that Maya just wanted to stay there, eyes shut tight against the world, for a little while longer, reluctant to surface from sleep and even face the day at all…
But suddenly a strongly disturbing instinct made her peer out from beneath her drowsy lids—only to find that she wasn’t in her bed at home, but in a car, being driven on the motorway at quite a lick in the outside lane. Beside her was a man with the chiselled profile of a model. Her heart pounded in shock.
‘How long have I been asleep?’ Her voice was husky and she sounded like someone else. Sitting up straight, she adjusted her previously cramped position with a relieved groan.
‘Practically since we started out.’ A fleeting grin appeared on her companion’s carved, compelling features.
Maya stared. ‘Was the station closed or something?’
‘No. It wasn’t closed. I just decided to take you to London myself. It’s no big deal. I came to the conclusion that I should head home to Primrose Hill anyway, so it’s not too far out of my way.’
‘You have a place in London too? I thought Jonathan told me you lived in Northumberland?’
‘I do. But when I’m working at the theatre it makes sense to stay in town. A play of mine has just completed a six-month run and will soon be on its way to Broadway, so I’ll be going back to Northumberland in the meantime to rest and continue working on my latest project. Whereabouts in Camden are you situated?’
Maya told him, with not a little sense of unreality in her voice. Her softly shaped dark brows drew together in genuine puzzlement.
‘I can’t believe I fell asleep like that. It must have been all that upset last night. I don’t think I slept a wink afterwards, to tell you the truth. But to fall asleep with someone I hardly even know driving me…that’s a first!’
Briefly Blaise turned his head to survey her. ‘I hope we can very soon rectify the fact that you hardly know me, Maya. It should be fairly obvious to you by now that I’d very much like to see you again?’
She fell silent for a moment. ‘You mean like on a date?’
Digesting this bombshell, twin feelings of surprise and apprehension flooded her.
‘Is that so shocking?’ Directing the MG into a long line of traffic heading towards Greenwich, Blaise smiled.
‘Not shocking, exactly…but I am surprised, yes.’