A/N: Hey Guys! I would like to thank anybody who is reading this for still sticking by me! I have been going through my 'Sloth Phase' at home, and haven't been doing anything over the start of summer. I have currently snapped back to reality and realized my FanFic needed sorting. I apologize for being so lazy :)

Title: Mistress by Mistake

Summary: Edward misjudges Bella, believing she was trying to seduce his wealthy nephew. Edward seems intent on having her himself… but is he only protecting his fortune? Especially as his ex-fiancé seems to clearly want him back… What are Edward's plans? OOC

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Twilight, in any way, shape or form.

Bella's POV

"We don't have to do this, you know…?" Jasper reminded me, again.

I had taken pity on the teenager, who was already looking like a traditional sacrificial victim. "Kiss? Definitely not," I assured firmly, with a hint of humour.

I'm still not quite sure how exactly my brother had talked me into this. Emmett was certainly a teddy bear on the inside, although he came up with some crazy plans along the way. I felt a tweak of resentful admiration towards my brother, nonetheless.

It said a lot about my brother's powers of persuasion, I thought as I took in the sight of Jasper Whitlock and me, perched on the edge of the sofa, in Jasper Whitlock's parents' rather magnificent house. I hadn't actually realised until this point just how wealthy the background of my brother's quiet, earnest friend was.

I seriously doubt the thin piece of black, lacy material, that was barely covering my body (Image of outfit on Profile), was the only piece of designer clothing this sofa had seen in it's time. Looking down at myself, I quickly regretted allowing Alice in on the plan. I had known my friend since forever, and as much as I loved her, I also had a grudge against her love for shopping.

I sighed as realised this is the only piece of designer clothing my body had ever worn. I didn't have enough money to begin with, although I wouldn't choose designer given the choice. I preferred to choose my clothes for comfort rather than style, unlike my two closest friends, Alice and Rosalie.

"How long are your parents away for, Jasper?" I asked, in an attempt to calm the teenage youth, who currently looked as though he wanted to bolt! I summoned up a smile that was supposed to be maternal and comforting. The maternal part wasn't all that hard, due to the fact I am five years older than him. Although in this situation I feel centuries older!

"Mum's book tour of the States lasts another week or so," he said listlessly, "Dad might come back a few days early – business, you know."

I could do with him walking through that door right now, I thought, eyeing the wooden panelled entrance with slight hope. On the few occasions I had met Carlisle Whitlock he had seemed a calm, friendly person, who could easily cure his son's problems, without any outside help.

"Lucky them. I wouldn't mind being there now." I sighed. Being anywhere would be an improvement on here. Soft-hearted? I must be soft-headed!

"Mum doesn't like being away from home."

With this home who can blame her? I thought with a tinge of envy. I knew Esme Whitlock well enough to know that she would rather be at home, or restoring a nearby building. Esme always enjoyed spending her time writing her 'decoration tips' book, although she was adamant to leave her beloved house behind on the tour. It took a lot of persuading to get her to leave.

"Not like Uncle Edward. He's been everywhere."

Not Uncle Edward! My groan was quickly transformed into a soft grunt of interest, sending Jasper off into his own world. My eyes glazed over slightly as he began to eagerly expand on the theme, his pale features becoming animated as he swiftly warmed to the subject of his hero.

I knew just about everything there was to know about Uncle Edward. Jasper obviously took pride in looking up to his idol. I could easily write a full essay on the man. To me, Uncle Edward sounds like he could have a bad case of arrested development.

I gave a small shudder of distaste, as I mentally tried to conjure up an image of Uncle Edward. Nurtured biceps, athletic stance and an over sized ego. The perfect ingredients for the world's worst role model, especially for a sensitive type of boy like Jasper, who already had a budding inferiority complex about his lack of sporting ability.

"Uncle Edward says…" Jasper suddenly froze midsentence, as I was spared any further worshipping detail about his mother's sibling. "They're coming up the pathway," his eyes the size of saucers fixed, horror-struck, on the view through the window. "I can see them! What'll we do?"

"Right, don't panic," I said, as calmly as possible, as I felt my heart going into overdrive, "Mess up you're hair." My hands automatically pulling the measly black fabric of the too-short dress, farther down my legs.

"What?"

"Like this," I said, rubbing two shaking hands through my own long wavy chestnut hair. "Here, let me," I said, with ill-concealed exasperation. I leant forward and rumpled the teenager's smooth blonde locks. "Put an arm around me, or something; make it look as though we have been… kissing."

Jasper made a couple of vague movements towards me. "I can't I've never…"

You and I both, mate, I thought, managing a small grin. "Don't worry, I'll show you what to do." A classic case of the blind leading the blind!

"I just bet you would, sweetheart," The deep, cold voice made me jump violently. "But I don't think Jasper requires instructions from the likes of you."

"Likes of me?" Just what the hell did he mean by that? I turned my glance indignantly towards the direction of the intruder. I didn't have to be particularly inventive to know what sort of things were most likely swimming through his mind.

Jasper's eyes bulged almost to bursting point as he turned to face his Uncle Edward. "I thought you were out" he faltered.

It turned out I had been wrong to exaggerate his uncle's physical attributes. The muscles in the arms that were manhandling me were seriously well developed, and the chest I stumbled against was rock-hard – it was also still damp. Uncle Edward had obviously strolled into the room directly from the shower. One towel was looped, far too casually for my liking, around his slim waist; another was draped over his shoulders. My sensitive nose quivered as I was treated to a heavy dose of a clean, sharp masculine odour.

"One day you'll be glad I wasn't, Jazz." Edward Cullen flicked a quick, wry grin in his nephew's direction before turning back to me. "Sorry, sweetheart." Chocolate eyes; big and soft as a startled fawn's stared back at him, full of confusion and innocence. "But, unlike Jazz, I'm not interested in providing a shoulder for the likes of you."

A flash of anger flickered into my eyes, which Alice and Rosalie had skilfully applied make-up to, creating a more exotic atmosphere. "Though it didn't look like you were having much luck in that direction from what I saw," he recalled with a taunting crooked grin. "Besides, it seems to me like you've got more than enough leg to support yourself." His eyes roaming across the showing flesh of my legs barely covered in fine denier, as he set me on my feet.

Even though the snide, sneering superior of this man made me want to scream, I told myself that anybody could have misread the situation. "This isn't what it seems, Mr Cullen." Calm composure was the best way to defuse this unpleasant situation, I told myself hopefully. Unpleasant, Bella? Who are you kidding, girl? This is on par with nightmares of walking around a supermarket stark naked!

"You know my name?" His emerald green eyes narrowing suspiciously, "You do your research."

Name, shoe size, favourite colour… "Jasper talks about you all the time."

"That gives you the advantage," I honestly found his smile more threatening than any abuse he might have hurled at me. "No, don't tell me your name."

"I wasn't going…" I began hotly. Advantage! If I had ever been in a situation that made me feel less advantaged I couldn't recall it right now.

The way he had looked at me – as though I was something to eat! I shuddered, and quickly shook my head from side to side as a wave of dizzying fury washed over my last idiotic impulse to apologise. No man had ever looked at me like that before.

This muscle-bound bully wasn't what I'd pictured – he was worse! Right now I really regret allowing Alice the chance to dress me this way. I was finding it impossible to avert my eyes from his pale flesh. His shoulders and deeply muscled chest were extraordinarily wide in proportion to his slim hips. Hips that looked far too lean to stop that towel from obeying the laws of gravity. I doubt if the blushes would be his if the unthinkable happened. The warm, squirmy, unpleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach grew unaccountably more intense, and I swiftly raised the level of my eyes – and thoughts too!

I estimated he was about 6-four or five as I still had to look up at him, even in these ridiculous heels.

If he sneered once more I might just give in to the growing desire to throw an unladylike punch.

"Oh, but you are going – and now." The observation left no room for negotiation.

"Uncle Edward, don't!" Jasper pleaded, discovering his voice as his uncle's hand fell heavily on my shoulder. "You don't understand."

Some of the implacable hardness died from Edward's eyes as he turned towards his nephew's horrified face. "I understand, all right. At best she's a tart with a heart, Jazz – at worst a predatory little bitch who targets boys like you because anyone with a bit of experience can see past the innocent eyes, beautiful face and sexy body." It was obvious from the small curl of his lips as he glanced at me which version he favoured.

Sexy body!I was so stunned by his assessment that all that emerged from my lip by way of defence was a strangled croak.

"When I came in it looked like you were having second thoughts. Am I right, Jasper?"

"Yes, but not… she's…" he began, throwing me a horrified look of apology.

"You don't want to learn the stale tricks she can teach you, Jasper. Some day you'll understand that fumbling can be a lot of fun, especially when you're both fumbling."

I, taken aback by the unexpected recommendation, found myself thinking he looked almost human for a second. Was it the memory of a girl he'd fumbled with that brought a quite unexpectedly bleak expression to his eyes? Much more likely it was indigestion, I told myself, and he didn't seem the type to get mushy about past flings.

At that moment, Emmett and his companions, carefully selected for their ability to spread gossip, entered the room. I knew that Emmett didn't have to rely on his acting ability to display shock. "Clear out, you lot," he announced casually.

"What's going on here?" Emmett asked once the room was cleared. I even found myself envying his casual ability to inspire obedience.

"Emmett, isn't it?" Edward Cullen looked at the tall, muscled, dark haired boy with a hint of recognition. "Did you have anything to do with this little unwelcome ceremony?"

"You all right, Bella?" Emmett asked anxiously, ignoring the older man.

"Does it look like I'm all right?" I asked, biting back an unwanted hysterical giggle, "Will you sort this out – now, Emmett?" My usually soft voice raised a quavering octave.

"You know this girl, then?" Edward asked, looking between my younger brother and me.

"Of course I know her. She's my sister."

"Do you get your kid brother to pimp for you often, angel?"

I couldn't control myself any longer. Sliding off the painfully tight heels, I decided to let Emmett sort out the situation, and fled the room. Although I knew the tears flowing freely down my cheeks were a display from my fury, I wasn't about to stay and allow him to think otherwise.

:-o-O-o-:

The door I had been hammering on for the past five minutes finally swung open. I watched Phil's expression change from initial lack of recognition to open-mouthed shock.

"Say a word and you're dead," I promised venomously, just as the grin was beginning to form. "I forgot my key"

The grin was quickly deleted. "New look, Bells?" He gave an appreciative leer.

"If we're talking make-overs…?" I allowed my eyes to roam over the tall, rangy figure of my lodger. "Do the words 'ageing hippie' strike a cord?" Head high, slender back; I stalked up the stairs trying to ignore the sounds of inexpertly muffled laughter. "I've had a very bad day!" I warned over my shoulder.

The carpet beneath my feet was tired looking and beginning to thread. It wasn't the only thing in the big Victorian house that needed replacing. When my parents died, five years earlier, the first thing the solicitors had suggested was putting the crumbling old building on the market.
But how could I have taken my thirteen-year-old brother away from the only home he'd ever known? He'd already lost his parents, and moving would have meant changing school too. I'd known there wouldn't be enough money left after the debts were settled to buy another place in the same area. My parents had had many qualities, although money wasn't one of them. I had been fiercely determined that no matter what happened Emmett wouldn't suffer – he'd have all the advantages, minus the loving parents, that I'd had.

When I'd told the solicitors my idea they'd regarded me with the sort of superior scorn that some people use with teenagers.

Impractical, they'd said. Not economically viable. Well, they'd been wrong. Five years on and Phil was their long-term lodger, and, with a few exceptions, we'd been lucky with the succession of people who'd rented our other two rooms in the Victorian monstrosity, I'd always called home.

Right now we have Angela; a librarian in her early thirties and Ben; an engineering student in his late twenties, as well as Phil, who Emmett and I had known since we were children. I can't actually remember the point in which we had accepted him as extended family.

I had once asked Phil why he stayed, and he'd laughingly told me he was too lazy to move. He'd used to look at property, but he'd stopped pretending some time ago that this was a short-term measure. Recently, Phil had told me that I, and the other residents of 6 Appleton Avenue, filled a gap in Phil's life, where there would have been a wife and children, but for a cruel twist of fate.

The old building ate up any money, of course, so by the end of the day we weren't much better off financially, but we coped. Actually, I am better off financially at the moment than I dared hope, since Emmett had won a prestigious scholarship that was going to ease the financial burden of his three years at university considerably.

"Do something reckless with it, Bells," he'd advised when I'd suggested spending the money I'd been putting aside for his education to replace the leaking roof on the kitchen extension.

"Reckless" I said in disgust to my reflection in the mirror on the old mahogany dressing table. I wiped the back of my hand across my crimson-stained lips. This is the last time I am allowing my silver-tongued sibling to persuade me into anything!

I only have myself to blame for being so easily conned. I should have known things were getting out of hand when Alice had produced the expensive designer outfit and suggested I change in the kitchen. I ought to have kicked up a fuss when Rosalie, Emmett's girlfriend, had produced cosmetics from an apparently bottomless make-up bag.
In fact, if it hadn't been for a miserable-looking Jasper saying, "She doesn't have to do it, Emmett" I might well have chickened out there and then. Saving myself the most embarrassing, humiliating experience of my life, I thought, stripping off the borrowed finery.

Slipping on a pair of loose fitting sweats and long-sleeved jumper (Image of outfit on Profile), I silently fumed to myself the fury I felt towards the man. No wonder poor Jasper didn't confide his personal problems to an insensitive brute like that.

"This isn't what it looks like, Mr Cullen," I muttered to myself, out loud. "I still can't believe I said that."

:-o-O-o-:

Phil looked up from the steaming pan to which he was adding numerous amounts of a variety of spices.

"Why don't you use the extractor? The whole place reeks of curry." I sighed, pinching my nose.

"Curry," Phil repeated with offended dignity. "That word hardly describes the delicate balance of spices in my work of art."

"Fine. The whole place reeks of your 'work of art'." I pulled out one of the mismatched chairs, which were set around the long table in the middle of the room, and slumped dejectedly down.

"Want to tell Uncle Phil all about it?" he suggested.

"About what?"

"Come off it, Isabella" he said bluntly.

I gave a small half-hearted shrug and rested my chin on my arms, which were supported by the comforting solidity of the oak table. "I've never been so humiliated in my life!" I confided, my voice slightly muffled by the soft fabric of my blue striped top. "It was Emmett's fault."

"It would be," he acknowledged, speaking with the authority of someone who hadn't escaped unscathed by Emmett's inventive schemes. "You'll feel better if you talk about it."

Being the sensitive human being, he didn't laugh once as my story spilled out.

"There, I knew it; you think I was stupid!" I lifted my head and tossed a feathery brown curl away from my cheek.

"I think," he soothed, "it was a classic case of bad timing."

"I couldn't refuse, could I?" I asked rhetorically. "Poor Jasper was going through hell at school; he's such a sensitive boy," I said, unable to think of his pale, sensitive features without a gush of maternal anguish.

"So it was this girl – the man-eater who came onto him – that spread the rumour in school about him being gay?" I nodded. "But he's not…"

"Gay? Of course not. The poor boy was petrified by her. Not all seventeen-year-olds are like Emmett." Confidence with the opposite sex was not something that my brother lacked; a fact which had caused me several sleepless nights.

"So Emmett was supposed to arrive with an audience guaranteed to spread the story of all male fantasies; a desirable, mature woman. Overnight his name would be synonymous with stud."

"In a nutshell…" I pressed my fingers to my temples, in a failed attempt to remove the sickening throb of a terrible headache which was developing. "A case of bad casting, I know."

"It's quite clever, really," Phil mused with grudging admiration.

I offered Phil a quick look of dislike, "Clever! Pardon me if I don't sound suitably appreciative. I doubt if you would either if you'd been threatened or abused by that disgusting man. Do you know what he called me?" I demanded, my voice quivering with outrage. "A predatory, grasping little tart who couldn't handle real men."

"Ouch."

"Ouch; is that all you can say?"

"Well, I suppose it must have been a bit of a shock for the guy, finding his nephew in the clutches of a…" He came to an abrupt halt and cast me an apologetic lop-sided smile. "That outfit did make you look pretty… well let's just say you looked the part. Not a tart, you understand," he added hastily, "just…"

"You're digging yourself a very deep hole, Phil," I pointed out, secretly glad that I wasn't the only person suffering from foot-in-the-mouth syndrome. "He very obviously thought I was a tart. I suppose you think I should be flattered."

Phil didn't bother responding to that challenge, "Didn't you explain? Didn't the boy put him straight?"

"What chance did I have? I couldn't get a word in edge-wise." Phil looked sceptical as I grated my teeth, at a loss to explain to someone who knew me how I felt like a witless zombie from the sheer trauma of the situation. "Plus the fact," I continued, "Nick and his cronies rolled up about thirty seconds after Edward Cullen put in an appearance. It was a circus. As for Jasper, he obviously thinks the man can walk on water," I spat in disgust.

When Edward Cullen had entered the room I'd thought, for one awful moment, his nephew was going to pass out. I'd almost envied him; at the time losing consciousness had had a distinct appeal.

"Talk about macho man!" I added scornfully. "And I'm positive he's just the type to encourage Jasper's hero-worship. Having a young boy thinking he's a cross between James Bond and Mother Teresa is just the sort of ego stroking he would enjoy. He's the typical product of an over-privileged background; you know the type. He's got that unshakeable sense of his own superiority."

Phil let out a long, slow whistle. "And how many products of an over-privileged background do you know on a first-name basis, Bella? You sound as if you're addressing a political rally."

I felt my cheeks warm up with the familiar red glow. "You had to be there," I said defensively.

"This bloke's really got to you hasn't he? You really shouldn't jump to conclusions, Bells. I thought you were the one down on people who generalised," he reminded me. "It's not like you actually know the man."

Once again, my cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at his tone. "True, I don't know him. So things could be worse," I agreed reluctantly.

"God, I wish I had been there; as an observer, of course. Come on, Bells!" he chided. "This isn't like you. Where's your sense of humour? I don't doubt Emmett's sorting things out right now. You'll all laugh about it later."

I stared at him. Laugh! It was obvious that Phil failed to appreciate that Edward Cullen was a person totally without redeeming features.

"I hope that all doesn't include Uncle Edward. Because I can't conceive of a situation where I'd go within ten miles of the man, let alone share cosy laughter!"

"Talking about Emmett; where'd he get to?" Phil asked, swiftly changing subject.

"He's big enough to look after himself," I responded grumpily. Nonetheless, I glanced anxiously at the clock. I didn't doubt he'd manage to talk his way out of this, as he did in every other difficult situation he'd found himself in his short life; but even so…

"Talk of the devil. That sounds like dear Emmett now." At the sound of the door slamming shut, Phil raised his head from his cooking. "Follow your nose, Em, we're in the kitchen," he yelled. "Well, well, who's been a—Holy fish sticks, Emmett. What happened to you?" Dropping his wooden spoon, a look of pure concern on his face, Phil hurried past me.

I suddenly forgot about the cold disdain I was going to dish out to my brother and spun around in my seat. With a gasp of horror I too was on my feet.

Emmett held out his hands as if to ward us off. "It's worse than it looks," he warned them hastily. The swollen split lip made his voice slightly slurred. "No, Bella, don't touch… ouch!"

"Ice…" I said firmly.

"Rosalie's already put ice on it."

"It looks terrible!" I said, subconsciously registering the fact that he turned to his girlfriend first, rather than me. I didn't dwell on it for too long, my mind fixed only on Emmett's health.

"Thanks."

"Have you had it checked out in Casualty?"

"Don't fuss, Bells, it's only a bloody nose and a split lip. I'll be my usual beautiful self by next week. Besides, I thought you'd be pleased. Just deserts and all that…" he suggested slyly.

I exhaled a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding and relaxed a little now that I could see the damage was actually quite superficial. "If I was a spiteful person…" I only half teased.

"You're mad with me?" he asked flashing me his normal winning grin, causing him to wince. I grimaced in sympathy.

"What do you think?"

"I think you're not ready to see the funny side yet."

"How intuitive of you. But, first things first, how did you do that?" I asked, my gesture vaguely covering the swollen, discoloured area of his mouth and evidence of a bloody nose.

"It's a bit embarrassing, really," he admitted, looking sheepish. "If you'd hung around another thirty seconds you'd have seen yourself. You know how I always say words are more effective than fists? Well, I've come to the conclusion that; that was a very mature statement. Problem is, I wasn't feeling too mature when he… when he said…" He glanced at Phil, his cheeks reddening a little. "That crack about you, Bells," he finished uncomfortably. "I just saw red." His confession was accompanied by a lot of foot-shuffling and shoulder-shrugging.

I froze and went dramatically pale. "Are you telling me," I said slowly, "that he did this to you?" I asked, a wave of fury clogging my brain.

"That wouldn't be so embarrassing. The damned man moves fast for a big bloke," Emmett admitted, his voice tinged with admiration. "I didn't get to lay a finger on him, I went charging straight past him, tripped over some damn table and straight into some bloody great clock thing. In keeping with the general theme of disaster, it turned out to be an antique family heirloom sort of thing."

This minor technicality that Uncle Edward hadn't actually laid hands on Emmett passed over my head. My brother was injured, and the damage was directly attributable to Edward Cullen.

"That's it!" Insult me and he might get away with it, but cause my baby brother harm and there was no way he was going to escape scot-free!

"What do you think you're doing, Bella?" My brother asked in alarm as I scrabbled through the small pile of keys positioned on the big old fashioned dresser.

"I'm going to tell Mr Edward Cullen exactly what I think of him, that's what I'm doing. Where are your car keys, Phil?" I continued, ignoring my brother's groans of dismay.

"Don't give them to her, Phil," Emmett pleaded. "I don't need big sister rushing to the rescue. Tell her, Phil. I just talked the big guy around. The last thing I need is you turning up screaming abuse."

"I've no intention of screaming, and I'm not doing this for you." That was true, at least in part. It had really gotten under my skin that I'd been reduced to some sort of compliant moron earlier. "I'm doing this for humanity in general. That man needs pulling down a peg or two!" Why the hell didn't I stand up for myself when I had the chance? I wondered, seething in frustration.

"I'm not telling her anything." I flashed my brother a smug grin, which faded as Phil snatched the discovered keys from my hand. "But neither am I letting you use my car, Bells. Not until you've cooled down."

"But you know my truck's at the garage until tomorrow, Phil" I wailed reproachfully.

"Then wait until then."

"How can you say that?" I spluttered, "Look at Em!"

"Emmett's already explained the man didn't lay a finger on him."

"Emmett was defending me!" Because I chickened out when the going got tough, I thought with a wave of self-disgust.

"If you're honest, Bells, you're just using this as an excuse because you're itching for a fight."

"No such thing," I denied hotly, without meeting his eyes.

"You're mad because you ran away without defending yourself. Or maybe," he said with an abrupt change of tactics, "it's a sexual chemistry thing between you and Uncle Edward." He looked at me with innocent enquiry. "That could explain all this hostility." He exchanged a quick grin with Emmett.

"So could being verbally and physically abused," I replied frigidly.

"The guy certainly has muscles in all the right places," Emmett agreed solemnly.

"I didn't notice."

My brother laughed out loud at this one. "Maybe you're going back for another look."

A sharp image of his pale masculine body rose up in my mind, adding to the insult to the injury of my brother's warped humour. A girl didn't go through life without seeing images of male perfection, and Edward Cullen had to fall into that category, but none of those images had assaulted my senses with a raw, earthy sexuality. Of course not. None of them had ever grabbed hold of me whilst half naked, I told myself crossly.

"It's nice to know who your friends are." I treated them both to my best display of icy dignity, as I stalked out of the room, although I could still hear their muffled talking behind me.

"I don't think she appreciated the joke," Emmett surmised. "You don't think she really…?" He asked the older man beside him. "Nah," he said shaking his head.

"Maybe the walk will cool her down?"

"Do you think so?" Emmett asked sceptically.

"Not really. I was trying to cheer you up."

:-o-O-o-:

A/N: So? What did you think? Tell me in a review! Please!
Also in your review answer this question and I will give you brownies!

Question: What is the most embarrassing/weirdest dare you have ever been given?

LittleTwilightManiac xx

P.S. All images of outfits on profile!