The Tycoon's Mistress: His Cinderella Mistress. Carole Mortimer. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Carole Mortimer
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408905784
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      But in all honesty he couldn’t even remember what his mother looked like any more. It was only the devastating loneliness of her desertion that stayed with him. Always.

      Well, he certainly had nothing further to worry about in that way where January was concerned; she had really meant it when she said she never wanted to see him again.

      Why did that hurt so much?

      Because it wasn’t lust he felt for January at all, because he—

      He had to get out of here, Max decided, standing up compulsively; even he couldn’t stand his own company at this particular moment! He needed to do something, go somewhere, anything to distract his thoughts from January and the way he had deliberately hurt her.

      It was almost nine o’clock, he discovered when he got downstairs, but even so John was alone in the bar when Max walked into the room. Which suited his mood perfectly; the last thing he felt in the mood for at the moment was a lot of chattering people around him having fun!

      ‘A large whisky,’ he requested as he sat down on one of the bar stools.

      ‘Lousy weather, isn’t it?’ John placed the drink on the bar in front of Max.

      ‘Looks as if you’ll have a quiet evening.’ Max nodded grimly, taking a large gulp of the fiery alcohol. ‘Don’t you ever have an evening off?’ he prompted abruptly; he might not feel like having chattering people around him, but his own exclusive company wasn’t what he wanted at the moment either!

      John grinned. ‘Mondays and Tuesdays.’

      Max grimaced. ‘That must play havoc with your social life?’

      ‘What social life?’ John dismissed pointedly. ‘Still, it’s a job, which is more than a lot of people have.’ He shrugged. ‘You missed January, earlier, by the way,’ he added lightly as he moved along the bar filling up the bowls of nuts.

      Max stiffened just at the sound of her name. So much for getting out of his hotel room, of doing something to keep thoughts of January at bay!

      ‘She seemed…upset,’ John added frowningly.

      ‘Did she?’ Max kept his tone bland, not wanting to get into any sort of conversation about January. Certainly not the reason she had seemed upset!

      John’s brow cleared. ‘Perhaps—’

      ‘Mr Golding?’

      Max had been so intent on his conversation with the barman, so deliberately trying not to think of January ‘upset’, that he had been completely unaware of the fact that he and John were no longer alone in the bar.

      But there was no mistaking the sound of that voice. No mistaking its likeness to January’s. Except he knew, after the way they had parted earlier, that it certainly wasn’t January.

      He turned slowly to find May Calendar standing behind him, keeping his expression neutral as he stood up. ‘Miss Calendar.’ He nodded politely.

      It was a couple of hours since January had left the hotel, which meant the two sisters could have spoken when she’d returned home. Or not. Until he knew the answer to that, Max intended remaining detached. If wary.

      Irritation flickered briefly in those deep green eyes as May looked at their surroundings. ‘Could we possibly go somewhere and talk?’ she requested abruptly.

      ‘Certainly,’ Max acquiesced evenly. ‘How about that table over there?’ He pointed to the far side of the room. ‘Perhaps John could get you a drink—?’

      ‘I would rather go somewhere a little more—private,’ May briskly interrupted him. ‘No offence.’ She gave John an apologetic grimace.

      ‘None taken,’ the barman assured her happily. ‘I wouldn’t be in here either if I didn’t work here!’

      May gave an obliging laugh before once again making Max the focal point of that steady deep green gaze. ‘Mr Golding?’ she prompted pointedly.

      He still had no idea whether May had spoken to January on her return earlier, or even if January would have confided in her eldest sister what had happened if they had spoken. But perhaps it would be better to err on the side of caution; if May intended hitting him, it would probably be better if it wasn’t done in a public place!

      ‘Let’s go upstairs to my suite,’ he suggested briskly, signing for his drink before escorting the eldest Calendar sister from the bar.

      It was uncanny how physically alike the three sisters were, Max ruefully acknowledged, although he already knew from his two visits to the farm that May, as the eldest sister, was a force to be reckoned with, that she didn’t suffer fools gladly. More importantly, she wasn’t impressed by him in any way, shape or form!

      Well, at the moment, after the way he had treated January earlier, he couldn’t say he was too impressed by himself either!

      ‘I believe one of the quieter lounges will do as well for my purpose,’ May informed him dryly as she paused in the reception area.

      Perhaps she wasn’t going to hit him, after all…

      She obviously had no intention of being alone with him in his hotel suite, either!

      ‘Fine.’ He gave an acknowledging inclination of his head. ‘There are some small conference rooms down this corridor.’ He indicated that May should precede him. ‘I’m sure the management won’t mind if we use one for a few minutes.’

      Almost as beautiful as her sister—in his eyes January was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen!—May also had a determined tilt to her chin, a way of looking at him with those emerald-coloured eyes, as if she could see straight through him. Which wasn’t a very comfortable feeling, Max acknowledged with an inner squirm!

      ‘Fine,’ May finally agreed slowly, leading the way down the corridor.

      This was the first time Max had seen the eldest Calendar sister out of the bulky sweaters and faded denims she wore to work in on the farm; she was stunning in the black jacket, thin emerald-coloured jumper and pencil-slim skirt, her legs as long and shapely as January’s in the heeled shoes.

      Why the hell weren’t any of these women already married? Max wondered incredulously; it would have solved so much of the problem if they had been! Were all the single men in the area blind? Or was it the sisters who just weren’t interested?

      May entered the conference room to turn and look at him, her mouth twisting derisively as she saw the way Max was watching her—almost as if she were able to read his thoughts. And found them amusing.

      ‘Many men have tried, and many men have failed!’ she drawled mockingly, an imp of mischief leaping now in the beauty of her eyes.

      ‘Why have they failed?’ Max didn’t even make a pretence of not understanding what she was talking about.

      She shrugged. ‘Maybe they didn’t try hard enough.’

      After the way he had deliberately alienated January earlier, this was not, Max told himself firmly, the sort of conversation he should be having with any of the Calendar sisters! ‘What can I do for you, Miss Calendar?’ he prompted hardly.

      The mischief faded from her eyes, leaving them as cold and hard as the jewels they resembled. ‘Stay away from my sister,’ she told him flatly. ‘And please don’t pretend not to know which sister I’m talking about,’ she added as he would have spoken.

      ‘I wasn’t going to,’ he assured her bleakly. ‘But, unless I’m mistaken, after this evening January will never come near me, through choice, ever again!’ Hadn’t she said as much?

      May looked at him with narrowed eyes for several long minutes. ‘What makes you say that?’ she finally murmured slowly.

      ‘That isn’t for me to say,’ he bit out tautly; was it possible the sisters hadn’t already