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‘You don’t want to wait to get your business under way.’
‘Yes.’ She felt self-conscious about sharing her ambition with him. No one had ever believed in her, least of all her. ‘I know it probably won’t work—’
‘Why wouldn’t it?’ he argued matter-of-factly. ‘According to the newspapers I built up my business while studying.’
She put down her container and sent him a look. ‘You’re not like most people.’
‘I’m not?’
‘You work harder than any normal person can. You have more focus and drive than anyone I’ve ever met.’
‘Maybe it comes down to motivation, then. How badly do you want to succeed?’
‘You must want to succeed very badly.’
‘When your life depends on it, I guess that gives you focus.’
Why had his life depended on it? Where was his family? She was so curious and he couldn’t really help her. She wished she could help him. But the only thing it seemed she could really do was ‘entertain’ him.
Which, frankly, she loved.
‘Speaking of work, I have to go do some now.’ But for the first time in ages, Tomas didn’t really want to. He wanted to stay near and talk to her.
‘So when you said we’d be at it every moment, that was an empty promise?’
He nearly choked on the cake. Was that a sultry taunt from his blushing lover? ‘I’ll be back downstairs later and you will pay for that.’
‘Will I?’ She looked all innocence.
Now there was a challenge from her. Eyes narrowing, he walked closer to her, smiling as the colour ran up under her cheeks.
It took little to arouse her. A fact he relished given he permanently ached for her. For her touch.
So touch her he did. Until she was soft and hot and whispering those pleas in that broken voice. And then he stopped, leaned against the bench as he half growled. ‘How badly do you want to work now?’ he challenged her.
‘That’s mean,’ she breathed balefully. ‘That’s so mean.’
‘You do the same to me.’
She distracted him. Tormented him. Made him want to cast everything else aside and only be with her.
‘Then go away so we can both concentrate, please,’ she begged.
She was right. He needed to leave before this escalated further. As it was he’d been late starting because he’d gone back into her room to wake her.
He backed out of the kitchen, his gaze trained on her the whole time.
‘Stop it,’ she mouthed.
He was rock hard and aching but he forced himself to leave the room. He was still in control of this situation and himself.
But less than an hour later he was pacing in his large office. This distraction had to stop. Thing was, he knew it was going to. She’d leave soon enough. His housekeeper would return. There was only today. He’d been disciplined for so long, what would one afternoon cost?
He went down to the kitchen but found it empty; only her music and the lingering scents of lemon and vanilla were there to remind him of her. His mouth watered. He paused in the hallway, listening for sounds. Then headed back up the stairs.
She’d not gone to the left wing—where he worked and their bedrooms were—but the right. She was in the drawing room, peeking under the drop cloths at the furniture that had been covered for storage. She’d opened up the shutters so the light was let in and she was really being nosy.
He leaned against the wall and watched her move around the room looking at each object in fascination.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked when he realised she still hadn’t noticed him.
She whirled in surprise but then that dimple popped and her eyes were glowing.
‘Snooping,’ she confessed as she failed to bite back her smile. ‘Do you have any idea how amazing this stuff is?’
He lifted away from the wall and walked towards her. ‘I’ve seen it.’
‘It seems such a shame to hide it all away.’
‘There’s no need for me to have every room ready. I can’t be in all of them at once.’ He knew the house was too big for him. But he’d wanted space.
‘It’s like a museum.’ She walked across the room. ‘You bought it furnished?’
He nodded. He hadn’t bothered to look too closely at all the treasures. He’d just turned a small part of the place into what he needed as quickly as possible.
‘But you then covered everything up?’
‘Are you judging?’
‘No. I’m exploring. It’s fun.’
She lifted a small clock from a nearby cabinet and brought it to him. ‘This should not be hidden away.’ She gave him a stern look. ‘This should be enjoyed.’
‘I don’t know that it even works.’
‘So what?’ She held it to the light. ‘Shouldn’t we just enjoy the decoration of it? The beauty?’ She placed it back on the cabinet. ‘Small things,’ she muttered. ‘All the small things.’
He watched as she uncovered more treasures. He refused to feel guilty about them; some time they’d be on show again. But her appreciation of them all got under his skin. He couldn’t help smiling at her animation. She was a conundrum: the way she handled the objects led him to think she’d been around valuable things before, but at the same time she showed an almost naive enjoyment of them.
‘I suppose I’d better get back downstairs.’ She suddenly sent him a guilty look.
‘Yes or I’ll start cracking the whip,’ he said dryly.
She laughed even as that gorgeous blush swept under her skin. ‘I was taking my duty as housekeeper very seriously and checking on the condition of the rooms.’
‘Of course you were.’ He walked with her down the corridor towards the stairs, thinking he’d sidestep with her into her bedroom. All he wanted to do was kiss her.
He noticed her looking at the pictures on the wall as they passed by. He grimaced. He knew it was weird, but it was a system that had worked for him.
She suddenly stumbled.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
&
nbsp; When she straightened he noticed she’d paled.
‘Are you hurt?’
‘No.’ She kept walking, her pace quicker.
He didn’t believe her. Something had bothered her. He glanced back along the row of photos they’d passed.
‘Which ones are your ex-girlfriends?’ she suddenly said, switching on a bright smile. ‘Don’t they get their own corridor?’
He hesitated, still certain something had upset her. And it wasn’t going to be any ex-girlfriend.
‘I’m picking this one.’ She pointed to a picture of a willowy blonde.
‘She’s the wife of one of my main clients and never, ever would I consider it,’ he answered dryly.
‘Because she’s the wife of one of your clients?’
‘No.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Because she doesn’t attract me in that way.’
The colour had returned to her cheeks and she took a step closer to him. ‘You prefer brunettes?’
His lips twitched.
She sent him a swift look from under artfully lowered lashes. ‘And shorter rather than tall? Perhaps with blue-green eyes?’
‘You wouldn’t be fishing for compliments, would you?’
‘If I were, I’m not getting any bites.’ She sighed mournfully.
‘I can bite if you really want me to.’ His voice dropped as his blood stirred. ‘It’s just a question of how hard.’
Quite the apprentice minx now, she was getting good at the art of distraction. And for now he’d go with it. He liked seeing her sensual confidence blossom. ‘For the record, none of these women were long-term lovers. Apparently I worked more than played.’
‘And that’s still true.’ She actually pouted.
‘I think it’s true for you too.’ He walked with her past more rooms in which the furniture was covered up and hidden from the light.
‘You know, I didn’t think you’d care so much what people think.’
‘I don’t.’
‘Oh?’ She turned away, innocently. ‘Then why do you go to such lengths to hide from them?’
He shot her a look. ‘Don’t try to change things for me, Zara.’
‘You’re not just a bit lonely?’
‘No.’
‘Yet...’ She trailed off.
He turned to glare at her. ‘This fling we’re having isn’t because you’re the first woman who’s been to stay here with me.’
