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needed Liv Tate’s practical skills, and he couldn’t have those and take her as a lover. There was a decision to be made, and it might have been easier if she’d conformed to type. Weren’t housekeepers supposed to come in plain brown paper packages, rather than this dainty, strokable variety with diamante hair-grips in their silky hair? Liv was proving a real distraction, and it was lucky for him he had plans for her today. Those plans would put a cork in the flood of pheromones currently overwhelming him and return their relationship to a strictly business footing. But first, as she had so sweetly demanded last night, he found himself about to go shopping.
On the drive to town he’d noticed how easily Liv’s cheeks pinked up. And now as he helped her carry up all the things they’d bought to her bedroom he couldn’t keep his eyes off her hips as she went ahead of him up the stairs. This easy talk about concentrating on business was…too easy. Putting his good intentions into practice was proving a whole lot harder. It got worse when they reached her room and he took in the changes she’d made. His stare lingered on the iron-framed bed. Had he really expected her to sleep up here on a rock-hard mattress with just an old sheet and a thin grey blanket covering her? No wonder his last housekeeper had walked out—but then she hadn’t had Liv’s good sense to ask for changes.
As Cade stared around the room she knew she’d made a mistake. She should have insisted on carrying the parcels up herself. The attic had never seemed small to her before, but now it did. Cade was a big man and the room seemed to have shrunk around him, leaving no space for her to move about. And where she couldn’t touch him she could feel him. He heated every part of her, turning her legs to jelly and her insides into molten honey. With every step she took, she was conscious of her arousal and the velvet heat pulsing at the swollen apex of her thighs. She wanted him. She wanted Cade to teach her all the things he knew about pleasure. She needed him. The ache in her lower body was unbearable, and only he could ease it. She longed to feel the fierce passion of his mouth, claiming her again. She wanted his hands to control her, and his weight pressing into her. She had to have him, she had to…
Unwrap your parcels, Liv ordered herself sensibly.
He steeled himself to ignore the faint scent of wildflowers wafting past him each time she moved and made himself take in all the improvements she had made instead. They included a vase of wildflowers by the bed, along with her novel, and a tiny, tinkling clock. There were some more mundane things like face wipes, and the room held her clean, fresh scent, and seemed warmer somehow. He was certainly heating up. A woman’s bedroom was an intimate place; it held the secrets of her soul and revealed more about her than a thousand CVs. He had come up here expecting a safe, sterile space; instead he’d walked into the cosy home Liv had created out of nothing. ‘I’ll get the fire going for you in here,’ he promised as the wind rattled a reproof at him through the ancient, single-glazed window frame.
‘It can be cold at night,’ she agreed.
Danger signals flashed in his head. The last thing he needed now was to start thinking about Liv curled up and cold in bed. ‘Well, I’ll let you get on—’ Thankfully, she had started opening parcels, and clearly hadn’t meant anything untoward by her comment. Which, naturally, piqued him. ‘Unless you’d like me to stay and help out, of course—’
‘No, thank you, I can manage. But, Cade thank you…’ She looked him straight in the eyes and smiled; a real smile, without a hint of challenge or mockery. ‘Thank you for all of this…’
His stare was drawn to the bedding and the way she was fondling it. He wanted those hands on him, but at the same time he knew she was thanking him for more than a few blankets and towels; she was thanking him for giving her a chance, when really he should be thanking her. That was what stopped him doing what he wanted to do—because Liv deserved more than a lust-fuelled encounter in an attic room. She needed a man who could cherish her and give her all the affection that was missing in her life. And that man wasn’t him. How could it be when he was still struggling back to normality with the noise of war bellowing in his head? A damaged warrior like Lieutenant Colonel Cade Grant was the last thing Liv needed in her life.
‘What’s this?’ Liv was surprised to find a cooked breakfast waiting for her on the kitchen table.
‘I made it for you,’ Cade explained. ‘You didn’t eat breakfast this morning, though you made breakfast for me, and so I thought—’
‘I can look after myself,’ she reminded him.
‘Are you trying to tell me I’m not up to your standard in the kitchen?’ He pretended affront.
‘Would I be so foolish?’
Was she flirting with him? The thought hit him somewhere below the belt.
Why was she flirting with Cade? The thought of losing her virginity to a man like Cade was insane. It was like taking a first cruise on a super-liner when a rowing-boat could introduce her to the sea.
‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘Aren’t you going to eat the food I made you?’
She was glad to have somewhere to park her concentration. ‘It does look delicious…’
‘So I made your mouth water?’
‘Oh, absolutely…’ Liv’s glance flicked up.
‘Well, don’t take too long about it, because I’d like you to finish before the rest of the afternoon kicks off.’
Liv wondered vaguely what he was referring to, but soon all her thoughts focused in tucking into the food. She’d hadn’t realised quite how hungry she was.
CHAPTER SIX
LIV relaxed back cautiously against the frigidly cold surface of the old steel bath. She had retreated to her attic quarters after eating the breakfast Cade had made for her, because she needed a break from lusting after him. A smart rap on the door brought her swiftly upright and a tidal wave crashing to the floor. She was instantly right back to the way she’d felt when he’d occupied her bedroom, only now she was naked with Cade just a thin piece of wood away.
‘Will you be much longer in there?’
Clambering out, she grabbed a towel and secured it tightly.
‘You haven’t forgotten the busy afternoon we’ve got ahead of us, I hope?’
‘Of course not…’ What was it?
‘The Women’s Institute from Brinkley?’
Cade made it sound as if she should know that. ‘Of course,’ she called back with relief. Brinkley was a small market town twenty miles away where no one knew her—plus cake-baking and jam-making were right up her street. She smiled at the thought of an afternoon filled with innocent pastimes that even Cade couldn’t infuse with lust.
‘Wear the army surplus gear I left out for you.’
There were goose-bumps on her arms that had nothing to do with the temperature inside the bathroom as she pressed up against the door. How much distance was there between them now?
‘I provide the same service for all the ladies of the WI.’
‘Really?’ Cade’s talking about the clothes, dummy! her inner voice advised. ‘So this is a regular thing you have going on?’
‘I take all the groups around the area in turn, which is why I could supply you with clothes when you…er…appeared at my house. Oh, and don’t forget to wear your trainers.’
Trainers? Perhaps some of the ladies were messy when they cooked, and a tiled floor could get slippery…
Cade was moving away.
‘Okay…’ She listened intently to try and paint a picture of what was happening beyond the peeling paint on the back of the door, but before she could do that she needed him to speak to her again. ‘Okay, I’ll wear trainers…’
Nothing.
She could hear his footsteps disappearing down the stairs. Had it even occurred to him she was naked?
Was he insane—standing outside the bathroom door holding a conversation with a naked Liv? His imagination had supplied what her breathy voice could not. She wanted him. He wanted her. Even now standing here on the field with the north wind threatening to turn his important bits to ice he could think of nothing but
Liv naked, Liv warm, Liv wet—Liv wanting him. He couldn’t fault her as a candidate for the job, but could he work alongside her without turning his erotic fantasies into hard, fast fact? Not so fast…Not so hard…More tender, lingering, and indescribably pleasurable and utterly addictive for both of us…
He snapped himself round to consider the facts. Short-term, maybe he could rein in his libido, but there was nothing short-term about his plans for the rehabilitation centres. He needed a long-term assistant for that particular dream to come true, and long-term anything with Liv spelled certain trouble.
He watched her jogging onto the field, knowing this might be his only chance to put Liv off the idea of staying with him. Sharing his workload at Featherstone was not what she wanted; working with him was the last thing she needed. She deserved something better. He’d seen the way she looked at him, but that was only because she was still in recovery after bolting from her wedding. He had no option but to come down hard on her. He had to be cruel to be kind and drive her away.
The gale force wind was freezing, and the rain was pelting down. Why hadn’t Cade warned her what to expect? Okay, tough guy, I suppose you think this is funny?
Liv jogged across the field towards Cade, who looked incredible. So incredible she had to be careful to keep her thoughts off her face. Cade in waterproof fatigue pants and sturdy lace-up boots with a dark, wind-proof jacket emphasising the massive width of his shoulders was a rugged package. It gave a frightening hint of his fighting strength. Her nipples strained against her vest as she stopped in front of him. The inky, ruffled hair and piratical stubble made her thank goodness for army surplus fleeces. She would have worn polar gear if she’d known what to expect. ‘Jam making, huh?’
‘Did I mention jam making?’ His dark eyes grew darker as he held her gaze.
The electricity between them sizzled a warning across her chest. ‘You told me the ladies of the WI were coming—’
‘And, here they are…’ Cade turned to smile at the stouthearted group jogging towards them. ‘Hello, ladies! I’ll be right with you. Satisfied?’ he said to Liv.
