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‘Zara?’
She didn’t stop with the hip-circling.
‘Zara.’
She jumped, gasping as she caught sight of him behind her.
‘I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he said gruffly.
‘I’m so sorry.’ She hurriedly switched off the music on her phone.
‘You don’t need to apologise.’ He frowned at how thrown she was by his appearance.
She coloured and her speech rushed. ‘I didn’t want to disturb you—you seem to like to work in silence.’
Only because he hadn’t thought to put any music on. Maybe it would help. At the very least it would be something to break the silence and his wonderings about what she was doing.
‘It’s not good for your ears to wear earbuds all day,’ he said. ‘I don’t mind if you play music using the sound system.’ He gestured to the cupboard where the heating and media systems controls were.
‘Really? You’re sure?’
He frowned again, this time at how surprised and pleased she looked. Had he been that much of an ogre?
But now she’d recovered herself and that irrepressible smile appeared and he found he couldn’t resist a reluctant tease.
‘Of course.’ He shot her a look. ‘Just not too loud.’
He didn’t miss the flash of her truly brilliant smile as he turned away. Feeling more at ease, he walked back up to his office, ready to restart his day.
* * *
Zara did a full reconnaissance of the garden and found a herb garden and vegetable plot hidden from the main vista. The produce was abundant but she needed other supplies. Clearly the housekeeper wasn’t expecting Tomas to want to cook at all for himself given she’d left the pantry all but bare apart from the basics.
Deciding to brave his wrath, she walked up to his office, studiously not looking at the line-up of photographs and accompanying notes. The door was open so she knocked on the doorframe and tried not to stare too hard.
His office was a massive library—complete with roaring fire and bookcases lined with leather-bound classics, but there the period-drama set ended. Because he was seated at a desk in the centre of the room frowning at a screen full of numbers. A row of other computer screens were on the desk and switched on and showing markets information. A television was on mute but she saw it was switched to a twenty-four-hour news channel. Two phones were on the table beside him.
She knocked a second time.
‘Yes?’ He glanced at her.
This time she managed to bite back the automatic apology that sprang to her lips. She’d spent a decade doing nothing much but apologise—to her uncle for everything and anything. She’d never been able to do a thing right, a decade of not being or doing what he wanted.
She’d gone to him aged twelve—right in the middle of that rough phase of puberty with pimples and puppy fat and no confidence and grieving unbearably and his disappointment and disapproval only made it all worse.
But she’d done enough apologising in all that time. She’d learned to stop it now.
Well, almost.
But it was okay to interrupt Tomas. She was helping him. ‘I’m going into the village to pick up some supplies. Is there anything in particular I can get you?’
‘No.’ He blinked at her. ‘Thank you,’ he added as an afterthought.
‘What shops are there?’ She risked a smile. ‘Is there a good greengrocer?’
‘I wouldn’t know.’ He turned back to the screen.
‘You’ve not shopped there?’
‘I don’t go into the village.’
‘You prefer London?’ She waited, but got no answer. ‘You don’t go out much since your accident?’
Her first mention of the crash didn’t impress him. ‘It really is no concern of yours.’
Wasn’t it? Wasn’t it every concern of hers?
But he didn’t know that yet. And she managed again not to apologise. Just.
‘You’ll need money.’ He opened a drawer in the desk.
‘I don’t need that much,’ she protested as she saw the roll of notes in his hand as he stood.
‘Take it just in case.’ He strolled over to give her the money.
‘I’ll go and investigate the shops, then.’ She couldn’t resist teasing a little. ‘I might be a while.’
‘Fine.’ He headed back to his desk.
She shot him a look at his deliberately bland response. ‘You won’t change the security code at the gate while I’m gone?’
‘So you’re actually planning to come back?’ he asked dryly.
‘I promised Jasper I’d stay.’ She tossed her head, pleased as his eyes narrowed in annoyance. ‘I’m not afraid of a challenge. As long as you’re not afraid to be honest.’
His eyebrows shot up and he took a step back towards her. ‘What makes you think I wouldn’t be honest?’
‘Your desire to argue with me is too strong. Are you man enough to actually admit it if you like what I make for you?’
‘Zara,’ he said softly, a small smile playing about his lips. ‘I’ve never been afraid to admit what I like.’
The innuendo was blatant—as was the look he directed from her top to toe, lingering in the middle.
Heat scorched her cheeks and his softly jeering laughter chased her from the room.
Her heart pounded and she touched her cold fingers to her hot lips. She knew he didn’t mean it. He was just teasing; for a moment he’d been the Tomas she’d met that day—arrogant and decisive and with flashes of fun.
‘Take care out there,’ he suddenly called after her. ‘The forecast isn’t good.’
* * *
He was right about the weather. She’d barely got down the long driveway before light snow flurries began to fall. She wasn’t worried—it wasn’t too far to the village and she shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours.
She walked the length of the picturesque main street, interested in the cafés and shops. She spent some time in each, looking at the artisan products they had on offer. There was a well-stocked general store and she browsed the aisles, stopping to read the notice board. A poster advertised the local farmers’ market in the town square on the weekends.
‘Can I help you?’ a uniformed young assistant asked her.
‘Is the market good?’ Zara asked, gesturing to the poster.
The young woman nodded. ‘It’s in the town square, all year round. It’s really good.’ She smiled in a friendly way. ‘Are you staying nearby?’
‘Yes, at Raxworthy.’ She mentioned the manor just to see the girl’s reaction—if any.
It was instant. Her eyes widened in curiosity.
‘At Raxworthy?’ She was agog. ‘With Tomas Gallo?’ She looked eager for more information. ‘You’re working there?’
‘For a few days,’ Zara admitted briefly, now unable to avoid answering the question. Was it so obvious she wasn’t there as a social guest? Of course it was.
She wasn’t glamorous enough or well-dressed enough or anywhere near perfect enough to be anything other than the hired help.
No one would ever believe she was actually his wife.
That old unworthy feeling arose in her. She’d never been the confident social butterfly and her uncle’s attempts to berate her into his ideal mould had failed.
Zara’s only confidence had grown in the kitchen.
But while she was never going to be a society hostess type, that didn’t mean she didn’t have ambition. She knew what she wanted—her own business.
‘So what’s he like?’ The young woman leaned forward, inviting confidence. ‘We never see him. Is it true he’s scarred?’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I’ve seen his picture on the Internet and he was so gorgeous. And so wealthy...’
‘I really...couldn’t say,’ Zara answered weakly, regretting having said anything at all. She was aware the older woman standing nearby was listening intently.
Tomas was very private and Zara now understood why. She didn’t blame him fo
r keeping his distance from the village.
She paid for the groceries and put the bags into her car. The snow was falling heavily now and the visibility had reduced. But it was only a short drive.
Except five minutes into it her car made an appalling groaning sound, jerked and shuddered to a stop.
She pushed the accelerator to the floor but nothing happened. She tried the ignition a few more times—but still nothing happened. The fuel gauge showed there was quarter of a tank of petrol in it, which meant it was some kind of engine trouble.
Not something she had either the time or the money to deal with.
Worriedly, she got out of the car and looked up and down the quiet country lane. She couldn’t leave her car in the middle of the road like this. She put it in gear and then tried to push it to the side of the road. She slipped and whacked her knee the first time. The second she got precisely nowhere. The third time the car began to inch forward. Pleased, she got a bout of energy and pushed harder, except the car then got away from her and slowly and gently crashed into the low wall at the edge of the road. The metal crunched.
Great. Just great.
Sighing, she fished her phone out of her bag only to stare at it in horror. It was totally out of charge. She’d forgotten to plug it in. She shook her head at her own uselessness. It didn’t matter that she’d been so distracted last night, she should have remembered something so simple.
Now she had no choice but to walk. Fortunately she only had a few bags to carry and it wouldn’t take more than another half-hour. No doubt Tomas would be appreciating the peace and quiet of having his big house to himself again.
She hoisted the bags in her hands, but then put them down again to double-check she had all the change to give back to him safely in her pocket. And she would give it all back to him.
* * *
‘Why don’t you want to take it all?’
