Who Wants To Be The Millionaire's Mistress? Read online

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  Whiskey Creek Press

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  Copyright ©2009 by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Published by

  Other Books by Author Available at Whiskey Creek Press:

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  About the Author

  For your reading pleasure, we invite you to visit our web bookstore

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  WHO WANTS

  TO BE THE

  MILLIONAIRE'S MISTRESS?

  by

  Peggy Hunter

  WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

  Published by

  WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

  Whiskey Creek Press

  PO Box 51052

  Casper, WY 82605-1052

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

  Copyright ©

  2009 by Peggy Hunter

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  ISBN 978-1-59374-536-8

  Credits

  Cover Artist: Vinessa Riley

  Editor: Chere Gruver

  Printed in the United States of America

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Other Books by Author Available at Whiskey Creek Press:

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

  A Lesson In Passion

  Tempting Tara

  The Lyon's Heart

  Will's Rocky Way

  Sweet Revenge

  The Fox and the Heir

  The Knight Before Chris

  April's Fool

  The Wrong Mr. Wright

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Dedication

  For Jo Jo.

  Don't know what I did to deserve your friendship but I am forever grateful.

  Love you madly ... you wild and crazy woman!

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 1

  "Good evening and welcome to Who Wants to Be the Millionaire's Mistress? I'm Bob Hoover, your host for the hottest new reality game show on TV. Now let's bring out our sexy millionaire, Maxwell Barton."

  Max plastered a smile on his face as he walked onto the set. He stopped briefly and waved to the applauding audience before he made his way to the stool beside the host.

  Hoover waited for the applause to die down before he turned to Max. “This is it,” he said in a deep only-for-TV voice. “The night we've all been waiting for."

  Max smiled back. The guy was a total fake. Up close, his face looked like wax and Max figured his dark brown hair wouldn't move even if a tornado hit the studio. Why Hoover was so loved by the fans of the show was beyond his comprehension.

  Max averted his gaze in an effort not to laugh out loud. “That's right, Bob,” he said smoothly. “I pick my mistress tonight."

  The audience applauded again and Hoover waited for his cue before he flashed his brilliant white teeth at the camera. “Well then, we won't waste another minute. Let's meet our remaining three contestants."

  Music started as Hoover read from the electronic prompter. “From Edmonton, Alberta, an exotic dancer who wants to gyrate in our millionaire's bed, Penny Hargrove."

  Max watched as the buxom blond walked onto the stage and waved to the audience. When she took her seat opposite them, Hoover continued.

  "From Vancouver, British Columbia, a professional body builder who wants to whip Max into submission, Sue-Ann Whitfield."

  Max smiled at the athletic blond who looked like she could break him in half with her little finger. When Sue-Ann took her seat, she snarled suggestively at Max. He shivered inwardly.

  "And finally..."

  Max's cock hardened in anticipation. He'd made his choice the second he'd laid eyes on her weeks ago. Too bad they had to go through weeks of eliminating several contestants before he made his choice known. He'd have dragged this woman to his bed long before now if given the chance.

  But this was it, the final night. He wouldn't have to wait any longer; she'd be in his bed tonight.

  "From Toronto, Ontario, a legal secretary willing to break the law to please her man, Lacey Masters."

  Max's heart pounded as the petite woman with long auburn hair walked out and struggled to crawl up on the stool beside the other two contestants. Her heart-shaped face was drawn and pale. She'd had enough of the charade too.

  Hang on, babe. It won't be long now.

  When she finally settled on her seat, sea-green eyes impaled him. She was a feisty one, and had made it clear from the start that she had no desire to be his mistress. Every time she wasn't eliminated over the past few weeks, her eyes darkened a little bit more. She wanted out and that made her even more irresistible.

  "Let's have a look at the dates Max went on with our three contestants this past week."

  Max's eyes flew to the television monitor carefully positioned in front of him while the audience gazed up at the large screen over the set. Hardy laughter ensued when Penny Hargrove jumped up on the table at the five-star restaurant and danced for Max.

  Max winced. The Riverside Café had been his favorite place to dine in Toronto. He'd never be able to go there again without picturing that woman gyrating over him.

  He'd taken Sue-Ann to his favorite pub only to have her insist on opening his bottle of beer ... with her teeth. If that wasn't bad enough, she picked a fight with the burly bouncer. She won.

  The audience loved it but Max winced again as he mentally crossed another favorite haunt off his list.

  And then Lacey appeared on the screen. Dressed in an emerald-green outfit that matched her eyes, she gazed at him across the table at Aunt Maria's Pizzeria in downtown Toronto.

  Aunt Maria's Pizzeria was more than just a pizza joint to Max. Maria Ricardo had been a parental figure to Max for several years.

  His recorded voice echoed in the studio as he reached across the table and put his hand on top of hers. “Tell me,” he said, “are you a screamer when you reach orgasm?"

  Lacey grabbed her water glass and tossed the contents into his face. “None of your bleep business, asshole!” she yelled before she stormed out. What Lacey had actually said couldn't be aired.

  To add ins
ult to injury, Aunt Maria walked up and cuffed the back of his head. “What did you say to the little lady?"

  God. He loved it.

  And so did the audience. They cheered loudly as the last video closed and the camera moved back to Hoover.

  He flashed another bright smile. “Don't go ‘way! When we come back, our three contestants will have their final interview with Maxell Barton."

  The moment the all-clear sign flashed overhead, Hoover frowned and turned to the director. “The mole on my chin looks like a huge zit,” he complained. “Is it too much to ask for a decent makeup artist?"

  Max chuckled softly. What the hell was he doing here anyway? If it hadn't been for the bad press he'd received after ending his relationship with his latest girlfriend, he'd never have agreed to appear on such a stupid game show.

  He turned his attention to the three women sitting a few feet away from him. His gaze fell on Lacey, who was shifting uncomfortably on her stool. If it hadn't been for her, the last few weeks would have been a complete bore.

  He wanted her. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted any woman. And, after weeks of waiting, he'd finally have her.

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  Why, oh why had she listened to the producer of the show when he told her wearing thong underwear would make her feel sexy? They were driving her absolutely bonkers.

  Lacey Masters desperately wanted to pry the G-string out of her butt crack. With all eyes on her in the studio, she didn't dare push her fingers between her butt cheeks to pull it out. Instead, she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, mentally trying to dissolve the string tightly wedged in her crack.

  Lacey rocked in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position. When her elbow nudged Sue-Ann Whitfield, she turned to her fellow contestant and offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” she said.

  The burly blond stabbed her with icy blue eyes. “Piss off, princess."

  Lacey broke eye contact with the Amazon. She knew that once she'd been established as the fan-favorite, she'd lost any possible friends amongst the contestants. Over the weeks, as more were eliminated, the glares grew more intense.

  It wasn't that Lacey wanted to be the Millionaire's Mistress. In fact, she'd auditioned for the reality game show because even those deemed unsuitable walked away with a couple hundred dollars for their trouble. And she needed the money. Who knew she'd not only be chosen as a contestant but find herself staying on the show until the very last night?

  The moment she laid eyes on Maxwell Barton, she shivered inwardly. He was everything she wanted to avoid in the past few months. Mega rich, mega sexy and mega full of self-importance. He expected women to drool over him, beg to be in his bed.

  She hated the man on sight. He was the shining example of a mistake she'd never make again.

  Ever!

  Lacey gave herself a mental kick in the ass. She should have known being rude to the guy over the past few weeks would only draw attention, not just by the man himself but by the millions of viewers who tuned in every week. Too late she discovered she provided comic relief, fueling not only the fans’ wishes to see her chosen but also Maxwell Barton himself.

  Forget the people who watched the show week in and week out, every time Lacey told Maxwell to take a flying leap, his eyes darkened just a little more, his interest piqued. The man wasn't used to being spurned. One would think she'd have learned that by now ... men like him liked a challenge.

  The intense, brooding gazes thrown her way made her body shiver with ... with...

  Hell, what is it?

  Fear or anticipation? Loathing or sexual excitement?

  Fear and loathing. Yeah, that's it, fear and loathing.

  It had to be. After everything she'd been through, how could she possibly be attracted to someone like Maxwell Barton?

  Bob Hoover's deep voice infiltrated her thoughts. “We're back,” he said into the camera. Then he turned to Max. “Well, we all know who the viewers want to win but your decision is the only one that matters. We've seen clips of your dates with the final three contestants, so there's only one step left before you choose your mistress. But before we do, let's have a look at the highlights of your dates for the past eight weeks."

  Lacey sighed inwardly. God! What more could there be? As Lacey tried to focus on the montage of the previous weeks’ adventures, she reminded herself that the farce was almost over. After tonight, she'd walk away, hopefully with a few dollars in her pocket.

  The audience clapped loudly when the montage ended. Hoover spoke again. “Maxwell has one final question for each of our contestants.” He hesitated before he added, “Just as soon as we come back.” The audience moaned as the director called the clear sign.

  Lacey shifted on her stool again. Could they have made more uncomfortable seats? Her mind shifted back to the underwear wedged between her butt cheeks. She had to move, damn it. She leapt off the stool and wiggled her ass in an effort to free the silk fabric hopelessly implanted there. If only she could shove her fingers in without being seen. She took a step forward, splaying her legs apart. It didn't budge. She squeezed her butt cheeks in an effort to expel the offending string. That only served to drive it deeper.

  Lacey was about to scream when she looked up and caught sight of Maxwell Barton. His eyes were black as night as he gazed at her. His dark brows were knitted low as his gaze washed over her.

  Oh God. Does he know?

  Discomfort shifted from her ass to his hungry stare. He was a predator. Given the chance, he'd consume her body and soul.

  Lacey's body tightened, the blood in her veins sizzled. She stamped down the excitement coursing through her as she popped back onto her stool. She didn't want him. She needed him like she needed another hole in her head.

  Will you never learn, Lacey?

  "And we're back,” Hoover announced as Lacey swallowed the lump in her throat. She had a bad feeling about this ... a very bad feeling.

  "So, Max,” Hoover said, “you have one last question for our remaining contestants before you make your final choice, don't you?"

  "I sure do, Bob.” Maxwell's rich deep voice poured over Lacey like liquid honey.

  "Well, this is your opportunity,” Hoover said.

  Maxwell didn't hesitate as he turned his attention to the first of the three women. “Penny,” he said, referring to the exotic dancer, “we're stranded on a deserted island. What one item would you need to make it special?"

  Penny giggled suggestively. “That's easy,” she said. “Since we all know what we'll be doing on the island, I'd bring a big box of flavored condoms."

  The audience roared and Maxwell waited for it to die down before he turned his attention to the body builder. “Sue-Ann, same question."

  "Lots and lots of protein to keep you energized,” she replied. “You'll need it for what I have planned."

  Catcalls and whistles ensued.

  Lacey braced herself.

  The moment Maxwell turned his attention to her, Lacey spoke up. “I'd bring my entire family with me so I wouldn't be lonely,” she said.

  Maxwell frowned. “You didn't wait for the question."

  Lacey's throat tightened. “Isn't it the same as what you asked the other two?"

  Maxwell's lips pulled back in a slow smile. “No,” he replied.

  The audience clapped and cheered as Maxwell went on. “Lacey.” He hesitated as his eyes impaled her, reaching into her very soul. Lacey swallowed hard. “During the commercial break, why were you bouncing around the set?"

  Damn! He had noticed and was calling her out on national television. Lacey's head swam. There was only one thing she could do.

  "My panties are wedged between my butt cheeks,” she said as calmly as she could. “I was attempting to get them out without having to dig my fingers in there."

  Lacey's eyes never left Maxwell's as the audience broke into a deafening roar. All she could hope for was that her extreme honesty would finally turn him off.

  But the look in his eyes didn
't give her the feeling that she'd turned him off. In fact, it seemed to turn him on.

  Damn! Didn't men like Maxwell Barton want fantasy? Hadn't she made it clear there was nothing he'd find with her but misery?

  Hoover called over the cheering audience as he peered into the camera. “Don't go ‘way. Our sexy millionaire will choose his mistress right after the commercial break."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 2

  Lacey flinched against the flashing camera bulbs as she and Maxwell Barton exited the studio in downtown Toronto. From the moment Maxwell made his choice known ... from the confetti and balloons falling from the studio ceiling to the hot, lusty kiss he planted on her lips when she was forced into his embrace ... everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

  With the paparazzi dogging them every step of the way, Maxwell herded her toward the gleaming black limo parked just outside the studio doors. The experience was surreal, as if it was a dream ... or to be more accurate, a nightmare.

  She wasn't surprised when she was chosen, she'd long since accepted the fact there was no way out. The glowers she'd gotten from the two other contestants deepened to the point that she was afraid for her life after Maxwell had chosen her. But Lacey had expected it from them; neither Sue-Ann nor Penny liked to lose.

  What she hadn't expected was the media's interest. It wasn't until Lacey was Maxwell's chosen mistress that she realized just how much attention the stupid game show had garnered. No doubt, the producers were already planning the next season.

  Lacey breathed a sigh of relief when Maxwell pushed her into the backseat of the limo and climbed in beside her. The chauffeur slammed the door closed. The tinted windows blocked out the reporters milling around the car.

  Relief was quickly replaced with angst when Lacey looked across the seat and saw the imposing figure of Maxwell Barton.

  What the fuck am I doing here? This is crazy!

  She struggled to think of something to say. “Uhm, Mr. Barton..."

  "Please,” he said as he loosened his tie and undid the top buttons of his shirt, “call me Max."