The billionaire's reluctant mistress

Chapter 18

Chapter 18:

“Rachel, Matt, this is a surprise,” Dalziel greeted them, feigning his true feelings.

“Dalziel,” she acknowledged politely.

“Glad to see you again, Matt.” His voice was deep and throaty. “Rachel, you're looking more beautiful than ever,” he opined, turning to stand directly in front of her so she had no choice but to acknowledge him. He was furious; she caught a brief glimpse of burning rage before his gray eyes iced over.

Rachel tried to keep her cool. She was fiercely glad that she had dressed up for the occasion. She knew she was looking her best. She might not be as beautiful as the supermodel, but she knew she was looking great. She didn't offer her hand, but Dalziel took it anyway. His grasp was firm and lasted longer than necessary as he insolently allowed his gaze to travel over her in blatant s****l appraisal, lingering on her breasts for a full moment, before returning to her face. She took a deep breath and casually withdrew her hand from his. Rachel was amazed at her own poise, elated that his touch had no effect on her.

His six-foot-plus frame was elegantly clad in an immaculate dark blue dinner-suit. Somehow, tonight, he appeared a bit slimmer than normal. He had always been a handsome devil, and still was, his black hair liberally sprinkled with grey, the grooves from nose to mouth deeply etched. He would be thirty-four next birthday, yet he looked youthful and ready to take on the world.

Rachel politely turned to Dalziel's companion: “It's nice to meet you. You must be my boss's friend.”

Before Rosie had a chance to reply, Dalziel interrupted, “Rosie is also my business partner.”

You bed and you do business. Rachel thought bitterly. She didn't really understand the relationship, she didn't know if Rosie knew Dalziel was engaged. She found it strange to think that she and he had been together. Thank God she had escaped that trap and was her own woman now. Looking at his lifestyle and at the person he had become, she was sure that they shouldn't have been together in the first place. She used to think he was a good man, so good that she thought she would never be able to love again in her life. But as it turned out, that goodness was only because he had no power or money, and women did not rush at him, like moths to a flame, as now. Before, he didn't have that many options. But now he dated supermodels despite being engaged and who knew what else he had going on in the background.

'Of course. ' Rachel rather belatedly responded, and, bestowing a brilliant smile on Matt, she asked, 'I'm thirsty, darling. Can you get me something, please?'

“A glass of white wine?” Matt suggested.

“Perfect, thank you.”

Noticing Rosie's empty hand, Matt politely asked, "How about you? Would you like a glass of wine or something?”

"Oh no." She immediately replied. “I don't drink, there are too many calories in those wines. Unlike your friend, I need to watch what I consume carefully for my career.”

Is this b***h implying that I’m heavy? Rachel thought, but let it pass. She had no interest in engaging in a slanging match, and her confidence rose another notch as she recognized her own maturity. It was true that she was heavier than she was a few years ago, her bust and hips had increased by more than one size. But by most common people's standards, she was still considered too thin.

Matt didn't seem to notice the tension between the two women, he just nodded and walked away.

“So, you work for Dalziel?” Rosie tried to strike up a conversation. Maybe she didn't mean to disparage Rachel's looks, maybe Rachel was just being too sensitive.

She gave her a friendly smile: “That's right. I work in the HR department at L&R.” Pausing for a moment Rachel continued, “I heard you're a model? Your job must be interesting?”

Rosie smiled and waved her hand: “It's alright. Sometimes I just want a normal life like everyone else.”

At that point, Rachel decided she didn't like Dalziel's swashbuckling model girlfriend. He may have money, but his taste in women sucked.

'Your drink,' Matt returned, handing her a long-stemmed glass of white wine. His fingers deliberately brushed hers, and she flashed him a smile.

'Thank you.' Calmly, she raised her glass and sipped the fine wine, her gaze unwavering on his handsome face.

Matt said nothing and planted a soft kiss on Rachel's cheek. He wrapped his arms around Rachel's hips protectively. Rachel could feel a hot gaze enveloping her entire body from the other side. She shivered beneath the icy anger from his steel-grey eyes. She had no idea what Dalziel was so angry about and she had no chance to find out, as Rosie seemed to be impatient and called back in a demanding voice, 'Come along, Dalziel, darling. I'm starving.'

So, the stringbean eats after all.

It turned out that all four of them were to be seated at the same table.

Rachel breathed a sigh as she sat down at the table. Matt had taken the place next to her, and for that she was grateful. Although Dalziel no longer meant anything to her, she preferred to be as far away from him as possible. The others also began to settle into their seats. On stage, the main couple Antonio and Lara gave a short speech and expressed their gratitude to all their friends, relatives and partners. Everyone raised their glasses of wine in a toast at the end of the speech before taking a sip. Seeing their glasses nearly empty, the waiter approached and filled them. This was Rachel's third glass of wine of the night and, although she was still sober, she didn't think she should have any more.

As soon as the waiter left, they clinked their glasses one more time. Rachel didn't want to overhear, but Rosie's worried words reached her ears: "I've never seen you drink as much as today."

It was clear that Dalziel was in a bad mood, and that made Rachel jittery. She avoided looking at him because, each time, she felt like her green eyes clashed with his predatory gray ones.

“Have you two been together long?” Dalziel enquired suddenly,

Plastering a patently false smile on her face, Rachel responded sweetly, “Not long, but it has been really nice. Matt is brutally honest and hilarious.” She could sense the tension in him, and, exulting in his discomfort, she could not resist the temptation to twist the knife.

“He’s also really kind and not controlling at all.”

“And generous, I bet too. You must be enjoying all the fancy dresses and jewelry.” Dalziel sarcastically said.

Matt spoke up: “You are wrong. It is hard to impress Rachel with fancy stuff, I found. She is a very special woman.”

Dalziel laughed apologetically, a grin filled with malice. A crocodile's smile. By this point, his unease was beginning to annoy Rachel. Old memories began to rush back. She remembered clearly the first time they argued was when Dalziel found a diamond necklace in Rachel's bag. Rachel was just starting working at a high-end jewellery store at the time, and an elderly client at the company had pursued her fiercely. Of course, she didn't want to have anything to do with him but he still didn't mind and gave her a lot of gifts regardless of her lack of interest. Back then, Flynn’s first start-up had failed and he became extremely sensitive, especially when it came to expensive things. Now that she thought about it carefully, Rachel believed that his extreme behavior stemmed from a lack of money, and a feeling of inferiority. Ah, the male ego.

But then she also thought about the way they had made up after their argument. She was so naive and stupid. Contrary to what he thought, she used to pay no attention to money. She just wanted to make him happy and satisfied.

She had asked him how he could be comforted and she remembered his throaty response, “show me” — and she had.

Slipping his jacket off his broad shoulders, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, and eventually undressing him completely, she had worshiped the perfect symmetry of his hard-muscled body. She shocked her head to dispel the image, fighting down the surge of warmth that the thought evoked. She hated him and what he had done to her. The days were in the past when a mere look from those gray eyes could ignite a fire in her which only he had been able to put out.

“You look flushed, Rachel. Too hot in here for you?” Dalziel queried softly. The magnetic pull of the man had not receded one iota in the intervening years. He knew exactly what she had been thinking.

“No,” she denied hastily, but his eyes caught and held hers, and she was unable to break the contact. There was no denying the spark of physical awareness that flashed between them. The pop of a champagne cork snapped the thread of s****l tension, and Rachel swiftly dropped her head to stare blankly at the white tablecloth.

The chemistry was still there but, Rachel told herself, now she could see it for what it was. Lust, plain, old-fashioned lust. What a shame she had not recognized it as such years ago, and saved herself a lot of pain. Suddenly she did not feel quite so confident of her ability to get through the evening unscathed.

The food was served, and she tried to relax, but it was an uphill struggle. She barely tasted the stuffed mushrooms cooked in garlic butter, and it was an effort to swallow the pheasant that followed. The conversation centered on the business venture, and Rachel thankfully let it flow over her, but she could feel his cold gray eyes boring into her, demanding her attention.

Rachel, with great self-control, kept her eyes firmly fixed on the plate in front of her, as though she had not seen food for a month.

The restaurant boasted a postage-stamp dance-floor, and a musical trio to supply the music. Rosie, grasping Dalziel's arm, seductively looked up at him.

“Dalziel, darling, let's dance.”

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief, a smile twitching her generous mouth.

'Good idea, Rosie, but I will need to talk to Antonio in a few minutes. Do you mind waiting until later on?'

Rosie indulgently took a sip of wine. Beside her, Matt also turned to her and asked: “What about you, Rachel? Do you want to dance?”

Rachel shook her head: “I drank a little too fast just now, I'm afraid I can't stand on the dance floor. You should dance with Miss Rosie. She seems bored.”

Rachel only suggested in order to make conversation. Matt also turned to invite Rosie only out of politeness. Unexpectedly, the model agreed, and the two of them made their way onto the dance floor, joining the dancing crowd.

A few other people at the table also went to the dance floor. Dalziel wasn't the only one left, but Rachel barely noticed anyone else.

She tried to focus on the food, but all her thoughts swirled like a maelstrom in her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dalziel talking to the person sitting next to her, but somehow she got the feeling that he was looking at her.

Minutes passed, the band stopped, and the music changed. Rachel looked up at the dance floor for Matt and discovered that he had been dragged to the corner of the room and was chatting with a few other men. They looked very happy. And Rosie was dancing with another elderly man.

Suddenly, Dalziel's voice sounded right next to her ear: "Want a dance?"