chapter 21. I'm not your mistress.
1495 Words
Tears sparkled in her eyes as she gave up and relaxed against him in
defeat.
"No, it wasn't," he insisted. "I merely want to take care of you-thus the bank account and the house. I know you own the house where you live now, but admit it, the neighborhood isn't the best,"
"No, it isn't, but I'm perfectly happy there! I've never asked for anything from you, and I'm not asking now. I don't want your money, and you've insulted me by asking me to sign a document swearing that I'll never make any demands against your estate for 'services rendered."
"I'd be extremely foolish if I didn't take steps to secure the estate," he pointed out. "I don't think you'd sue me for support, darling, but I have other people to consider and a responsibility to uphold. A great many people depend on me for their livelihood my family as well as my employees and l can't in good conscience do anything that might jeopardize their well-being in the future."
"Do all of your mistresses have to sign away any claims on you?" she demanded, angrily brushing away the single tear which dropped from her lashes.
"ls this in the nature of a form letter, everything fled in except for the name and date? How many other women live in apartments or houses you ve
So kindly provided?"
"None!" he snapped. "I don't think I'm asking too much. Did you truly think l'd establish you as my mistress and leave myself vulnerable to any number of other clainms? Is that why you re so angry, because I've made certain you cant get any money from me except what I freely give to you?"
He'd made the mistake of releasing her arm, and she swung wildly at him, her palm striking his face
with enough force to make her hand tingle. She began to cry, tears flooding down her face while she gulped and tried to control them, and in an effort to
get away from him she started fighting again. The results were the same as before: he simply held her
and prevented her from landing any more blows, until she was breathless and worn out. Pain and anger mingled with her sense of helplessness at being
held like that, her raw frustration at being unable to make him see how utterly wrong he was about her,
and she gave up even trying to control her tears. With a Wrenching sob she turned her face into his
shoulder and gave in to her emotional storm.
"Ursula! he ground out from between clenched teeth, but she barely heard him and paid no attention. A small part of her knew that he had to be furious that she'd slapped him-William wasn't a man to let anyone, man or woman, strike him and
get away with it-but at the moment she just didn't care.
Her delicate frame heaved with the convulsive force of her weeping. It would never end, the gossip
and innuendo concerning her marriage; even though
William wouldn't allow anyone else to talk about her, he still believed all of those lies himself. What he didn't seem to realize was that she could endure
everyone else's insults, but she couldn't endure his,
because she loved him.
"Ursula ." His voice was lower now, softer, and the biting power of his fingers eased on her arms.
She felt his hands touching her back, stroking soothingly up and down, and he cuddled her closer to his body.
With tender cajoling he persuaded her to lift herface, and he wiped her eyes and nose with his handkerchief as if she were a child. She stared at him, her eyes still luminous with tears, and even
through her tears she could see the red mark on his cheek where she'd hit him. With trembling fingers
she touched the spot.
"-l'm sorry," she said,
offering her apology in a tear-thick voice.
Without a word he turned his head and kissed her fingers, then bent his head and lifted her in the same motion, and before she could catch her breath he
was kissing her, his mouth hot and wild and aş hungry as an untamed animal's, tasting and biting and probing. His hand searched her breasts and moved downward to glide over her hips and thighs,
on down to her knees, moving impatiently under
the fabric of her dress. With a shock she realized that he was out of control, driven beyond the control of
will by his own anger and the struggle with her, the softness of her body twisting and straining against
him. He wasn't even giving her a chance to respond to him, and fear made her heartbeat speed up as she
realized that this time she might not be able to stop him.
"William, no. Not here. No! Stop it, darling, she
whispered fiercely, tenderly. She didn't try to fight
him, sensing that at this stage it would only excite him more. He was hurting her; his hands were all
Over her, touching her where no man had ever touched before, pulling at her clothing. She reached up and placed her hands on both sides of his face and
repeated his name softly, urgently, over and over until, abruptly, he was looking at her and she saw that she'd gained his attention.
A spasm crossed his face, and he ground his teeth, swearing beneath his breath. He slowly helped her to her feet, pushing her from his lap, and
then got to his feet as if in pain. He stood looking at her for a moment as she swayed against
the desk for support; then he cursed again and walked a few feet away, standing with his back
to her while he wearily massaged the back of his neck.
She stared at his broad, muscular back in silence, too drained to say anything to him, not knowing if it was safe to do so. What should she do now? She
wanted to leave, but her legs were trembling so violently that she doubted her ability to walk unaided.
And her clothing was disheveled, twisted, and partially unbuttoned. With slow, clumsy fingers she restored her appearance, then eyed him uncertainly.
His stance was that of a man fighting himself, and she didn't want to do anything that might annoy him.
But the silence was so thick between them that she was uneasy, and at last she forced her unsteady legs
to move, intending to retrieve her purse from where she'd dropped it and leave before the situation worsened.
"You aren't going anywhere," he said in a low Voice, and she halted in her tracks.
He turned to face her then, his dark face set in weary lines.
"I'm sorry," he said with a sigh. "Did I
hurt you?"
His apology was the opposite of the reaction she had expected, and for a moment she couldn't think of a response. Then she dumbly shook her head, and he seemed to relax. He moved close to her and slid
his arm around her waist, urging her close to him with gentle insistence. Ursula offered no resistance and pressed her head into the sheltering hollow of his shoulder.
"I don't know what to say," he muttered, I want you to trust me, but instead I've frightened you,"
"Don't say anything, she answered, having finalIy mastered her voice. "There's no need to go over it all again. I won't sign the paper, and that's that,"
"It wasn't meant as an insult, but as a legal necessity,"
"But I'm not your mistress, She pointed out, "So there's no need for the document."
"Not yet, he agreed. As I said, my attorney anticipated my wishes. He was in error." His tone of voice boded ill for the poor attorney, but Ursula was
grateful to the unknown man. At least now she knew exactly what William thought of her, and she preferred the painful truth to living in a dream.
"Perhaps it would be better if we didn't see each other anymore," she began, but his arm tightened around her and a scowl blackened his brow.
"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped. "I won't let you go now, so don't waste your breath suggesting it. I promise to control myselt in the tuture, and we'll
forget about this for the time being."
Lifting her head from his shoulder, Ursula gave him a bitter look. Did he truly think she could forget that he thought her the sort of woman who was
available for a price? That knowledge was a knife thrust into her chest, but equally painful was the certainty that she didn't want him to vanish from her
life. Whatever he had come to mean to her, the thought of never seeing him again made her feel desolate.
She was risking her emotional well-being,
flirting with disaster, but she could no more walk away from him now than she could stop herself from breathing.
- Writer
