His Bought Mistress [Secure eReader]
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eBook by Emma Darcy
eBook Category: Romance/Romance
eBook Description: He wanted her--so he bought her! The instant Australian billionaire Hugo Fullbright sees Angie Blessing, he knows he *has* to have her. There's no doubt about the instant, sizzling sexual attraction between them! So why, at first, does Angie refuse his offer? Angie cannot tell Hugo the real story. But finally she succumbs to the powers of seduction and agrees to join him on a weekend trip to Tokyo ... not realizing that he's a man used to paying for what he wants, and that she's been bought--and brought--for his pleasure!
eBook Publisher: Harlequin/Presents, Published: 2008
Fictionwise Release Date: January 2008
19 Reader Ratings:
ANGIE BLESSING did not feel particularly blessed on this fine summer Sunday morning. In fact, the bright sunshine was giving her a headache. Or maybe it was her relationship with Paul that was giving her the headache.
Here she was, sitting in his Mercedes convertible, being driven home to the apartment she shared with her best friend and business partner, Francine Morgan—her choice because she didn't want to go yacht-racing with Paul today—and instead of thinking how lucky she was to be the love interest in the life of one of Sydney's most eligible bachelors, she was thinking of Francine's current bible: The Marriage Market After Thirty—Finding the Right Husband For You.
For the past three years she'd been Paul Overton's partner.
No proposal of marriage.
The really troubling part was, if he got down on his knees right now and asked her to marry him, Angie wasn't sure she'd say yes.
'Don't forget we've got the fund-raising dinner next Friday night,' he tossed at her as he drove down her road at Cremorne, conveniently situated on his way to the Royal North Shore Yacht Club.
More politics, Angie thought. Just like the party last night. Everything with Paul was politics, making influential connections, building a network of powerful support that would back his ambition to go into parliament. His current career as a barrister had little to do with a love of the law. It was more a showcase for his rhetorical skills, a step towards what he really wanted.
'Angie…?' He threw a frown at her, impatient with her silence.
'Yes, Paul. It's marked in my calendar,' she said dutifully, hating the way she was little more than an ornament on his arm at such functions. 'And we have the ballet on Wednesday night,' she reminded him, relieved at being able to look forward to that date.
'I don't think I'll be able to go. The case I'm on this week needs a lot of preparation. Big trial, as you know, and the media will be covering it.'
Angie gritted her teeth. Ballet was her thing. But, of course, that wasn't important to his career. He could have worked on his case preparation today instead of yacht-racing, though naturally it wouldn't occur to Paul to give up one of his pleasures.
'Take Francine with you,' he suggested brightly.
'Right!' she bit out. No point in arguing. Waste of breath.
He pulled the Mercedes into the kerb outside her apartment block, engine idling, which meant he wasn't about to get out and open the passenger door for her. Angie wondered if the romance went out of every relationship after three years. Was being taken for granted the norm?
Paul beamed her a rueful smile. 'Hope the queasy stomach settles down soon.'
Her excuse for not spending today with him.
She returned the smile. 'Me, too.'
He wasn't going to kiss her. Couldn't afford to catch a tummy bug with the big trial on this week.
'You do look peaky,' he commented sympathetically. 'Look after yourself, Angie.'
He wasn't about to, she thought.
'I'll call you during the week,' he added.
Sure. To check I'm okay for Friday night when you need me again.
'Fine,' she said, struggling to rise above her jaundiced mind-set.
Paul was the most handsome man she'd ever met: tall, broad-shouldered, instantly impressive, dark wavy hair swept back from what she thought of as a noble forehead, riveting dark eyes that captivated with their sharp intelligence, a strong male face to complement his very male physique. He came from a wealthy family, was wealthy himself, and she could share a brilliant future with him if he ever got around to offering it.
'Have a nice day,' she forced out, then opened the door and swung herself out of the car.
She watched him drive off—the A-list man in his A-list car—and seriously wondered if Paul saw her as an A-list woman. She probably projected the right image: tall, long blond hair, slim enough to wear any clothes well, though her figure was too curvy for classic model proportions, good skin that didn't need make-up to cover blemishes, the kind of clear-boned face that always photographed well though she certainly didn't consider herself beautiful. Her eyes were her most attractive feature, probably because they were an unusual sage green.
When it came to self-presentation, she was good, having learnt that this art was an asset in her line of business. People who hired professional help from an interior design company had more confidence in a professional who was well groomed and colour coordinated herself. She definitely had the image Paul liked but did she have the right substance for him to consider her marriageable?
Was being a successful career woman enough?
No wealthy family in her background. No political pull there, either. Her parents were both artists with antigovernment attitudes, perfectly happy for their daughter to make her own choices in life, but staunchly into alternative society themselves. They were hardly the right people for Paul to have as in-laws, though Angie knew her parents would never thrust themselves into his limelight.
Besides, they lived so far away, right up the north coast at Byron Bay. They'd never actually been a factor in her relationship with Paul, not like his parents who seemed to accept her. On the surface. But was she suitable as a lifetime partner? More importantly, did she want to be Paul Overton's lifetime partner?
It had once been a dazzling prospect.
Now, Angie wasn't so sure.
In fact, she was beginning to feel she might well have wasted three years on a rosy dream which was fast developing wilting edges. She headed into the apartment block, wondering if Francine had found her Mr. Right last night at the Dinner for Six—a group of thirty-something singles wanting to meet their match, this being her friend's latest dating ploy in hunting for a husband.
Copyright © 2004 by Emma Darcy.