Run, the sensible part of him urged. Run in the other direction and forget she ever existed.
But the rest of him resisted.
It was too late.
She was dressed in a plain white dress, both of them figuring it would be easier for now to stick with skirts and dresses with her injured ankle and broken ribs. She looked lovely and sexy, her shy and demure ways making him want to do devilishly wicked things so he could enjoy seeing shock transform to pleasure on her face.
Seeing that she was still waiting for an answer, he said calmly, "It means exactly what you think it means. You are not to go back to class until you are fully healed and … " This time, his voice adopted a grim tone. " … until we haven't found where your stepfather and mother are, it's not safe for you to go about without protection."
"It's school."
"He attacked you there, didn't he?"
She fell silent at that, knowing he had a point. "I just don't think … " She lifted her chin. "I'm going back to school the moment I'm okay."
"Why do you need to?"
Again, he confused her. "It's school. I have to finish my degree to get a job---"
"But you don't need a job either," he pointed out. "You're my mistress, Mary. That's all you should be concerned about."
She gasped. "You make it sound like it's a job."
She was so bloody innocent. How else do you describe what being a mistress was like? Of course it was a damn job! But he knew he couldn't say that and so he said instead, "I wanted you to be my mistress because I want all of your time and attention for me."
She shook her head again, her lips pursing stubbornly. "No. I researched about this, you know."
He raised a brow.
She nodded vigorously. "I did. Did you think I'd just say yes without gathering facts first? All the happiest mistresses weren't just, well, mistresses. They led productive lives."
He wondered who she was talking about.
"They ruled kingdoms and they led wars and---"
He said dryly, "You've been watching too much HBO," and a bark of laughter escaped him when she flushed.
"I did Google it, too, and I'm telling you, it's not the right way for me to be a mistress." She pointed to herself. "If I'm to respect myself and you're to respect me, I can't be defined by just being a mistress."
He didn't speak, not wanting to let her know how easy and often she surprised him. Why did he keep forgetting that for all her innocence she was far from being stupid? He had gotten Slater to dig deep in her past and the information about her was … interesting.
Her mother had been a prostitute, rescued back to living in "polite society" by marrying a pastor, Bartholomew, who had a long list of scandals attached to his name. They were just not easily found, those scandals, because they primarily involved young girls he had raped and terrorized into staying silent.
The reports had revealed a twisted side to Bartholomew Grenville, and his fanatical beliefs had probably been the only thing that kept him from raping Mary under his own roof. But when he had learned about Rathe's presence in his stepdaughter's life, the man had snapped.
Knowing what kind of man was after Mary, Rathe knew he would never feel completely relaxed until he had that man behind bars or, even better, buried six feet under.
Unfortunately, the girl in front of Rathe was determined to make it as challenging for him as possible to protect her. "Let's compromise," he said finally. "When you heal, you can be homeschooled for the rest of the semester. When you have to go to school, it will be with a bodyguard."
She opened her mouth to refuse but the look on his face stopped her. He was not going to budge on this, no matter what she said or did.
"You're overreacting," she said helplessly.
"If that's what you call doing what I can to keep you from getting killed, then so be it."
Her heart leapt at his words because they implied that he didn't just like her. Those words hinted of something more – the kind that she was afraid of because she also felt so much … more … for him.
He tipped her chin up. "Deal?"
She said unhappily, "I don't really have a---"
The rest of her words were swallowed by his kiss. He hadn't kissed her the entire day and for that, she was startled and, yes, embarrassingly eager for it. She didn't bother pretending she didn't want it. She was his mistress. This was one of the most important reasons why she was so.
Her sweet surrender was too much, making him ache so badly to possess her body, but he knew it was too early. She had to heal first. He was too wild for her, had too many things planned for her body that it would not do if she was less than a hundred percent healed.
Tearing himself away with a groan, he looked at her in frustration. "I want you too much, little pearl."
His words and tone contradicted each other and she blinked at him. "Is that bad?"
"It is if I can't act on my desire."
She colored. "I think I can---"
He managed a smile. "No, little pearl. I can wait. I just need to take more cold showers than usual." He sat down on the couch next to her and after a moment's hesitation, Rathe was pleasantly surprised when she carefully drew herself close to him. It was clearly the most she could do without expiring with embarrassment.
Pressing his lips together to keep him from smiling, he reached for her, closing the rest of the distance between them by gently lifting her up and settling her over his body, their legs stretched out.
Reaching for his iPad on the coffee table, he handed it to her. "The agent's sent us a couple of photos already. If you make a choice today, we'll be able to move right away."
She snorted.
He laughed, the sound reminding him of Saffi and Yanna. Both women looked very delicate at first glance, but they were indeed the kind who snorted in amusement, which he knew their respective partners found endearing.
And it was endearing, Rathe realized. Or at least it was when Mary did it.
"What is it?" he asked, his eyes on her even though she was oblivious to it.
"You make it sound so simple," she answered as she opened the iPad and clicked the browser icon. "Move in right away?" She giggled this time.
Ah.
Rathe pinched her cheek, startling her into looking up at him accusingly. "What?"
"Do you doubt my ability to have us moved to a new home?"
One word in his sentence had her breathless. Us. He had used ‘us'. Did he know that he was implying he was going to move in with her to a new home? She might not know much about being a mistress, but she did know it was rare for a mistress and her lover to live together under one roof. It didn't matter if her lover was married or not. It just wasn't … done.
She looked down on the iPad to hide her blushing cheeks. "I just don't think it's easy," she mumbled.
He countered, "It is that easy when it concerns me."
Mary chided, "Your ego knows no bounds."
"No, little pearl. I just do not mince words about what I can do." He cupped her cheek, demanding her attention. "It's the same reason I know I'm the only man your body is destined to belong to."
The words had her gasping. "Rathe!"
She said it in a tiny breathy voice that he always found irresistible and he kissed her once more, his tongue pushing in, wanting more of the taste it craved. She kissed him back with a sweet sigh, her arms going around him. He shifted. She groaned – in pain.
Bloody hell.
He gently pulled away. "No, Mary."
She only blinked at him with passion-clouded eyes.
Ah, bloody, bloody, bloody hell. She was just making it harder for him to concentrate. "You're still hurt," he bit out. He kept his hands gentle as he carefully lifted her off him. "For now, we need to stay apart." The look of hurt on her face made him want to groan. "Just until you're better, dammit."
She still looked unconvinced.
"Stop seducing me with those eyes of yours."
Mary was disbelieving. "I'm … seducing you?"
His mind, already close to going insane with need for her, even became more warped, Mary's words making him imagine how it would be if she did indeed seduce him.
"Stop looking at me like that and just start checking out the houses, dammit."
His fists were clenched, his body tense. Her gaze moved down and she saw the way his tight slacks emphasized the shape of his arousal. Had she really done that to him?
"Seen enough?"
Even as he spoke, she could not stop staring. To her amazement, his erection moved under his slacks, becoming … bigger … longer …
Her embarrassed gaze flew up at him.
"Now do you understand?"
She returned her attention quickly to the iPad. "Umm … houses … right?" Oh, oh, oh. It was so hot here. She took quick calming breaths. Had she really done that? Once, she had seen Bartholomew aroused under his pastor robes and it had made her vomit because it was the most revolting thing she had ever seen.