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Again, after his surprising revelation about his father’s temper, the firm reminder of his fierce need for privacy reared its head, and Maya was forced to digest the astonishing information she’d just learned in silence. But discovering who Blaise’s famous parents had been was like just learning he was the offspring of one of the high-profile glamorous couples that dominated celebrity culture today. In their time, the Walkers had commanded just as much interest and notoriety. Silently, Maya digested the fact that Blaise was also the child of famous parents.
‘No. I’m fine, thanks.’
‘Then have a couple of Lottie’s delicious ginger biscuits. If you don’t, I may just be forced to eat the whole lot myself!’
‘You’ve got a sweet tooth, then?’
‘’Fraid so.’
‘Blaise?’
‘Yes?’ Wariness made the arresting summer eyes darken—just as though a storm was coming—and Maya knew he thought she was going to question him further about his parents. He’d already indicated that his family life had had its problems, and he was probably fairly prickly about having the fact speculated on by a comparative stranger. But, knowing how she guarded her own privacy where her father was concerned, she could at least accord him the same respect.
‘I won’t pry into your private life, I promise. I’m here to work, and I’ll try my best to do a good job for you helping with your research. You won’t regret hiring me.’
‘I’m sure I won’t.’
His tone was brisk and all business, and Maya’s throat ached with sudden unexpected hurt.
‘Now, finish your tea and I’ll show you where your room is. You’d probably appreciate a chance to relax then freshen up before dinner and to be frank…so would I.’
The almost companionable silence of their drive down had been replaced by a much more strained one at dinner. Stealing glances across the table at a subdued Maya, dressed in very becoming forest-green amid the flickering candlelight, somehow Blaise sensed himself become uncommunicative, on edge, and even inhabiting a state of regret about inviting her to come and help do the research needed for his play. Her incandescent beauty, so beguilingly captured in that incredible coveted portrait by her father when she was just fourteen, shone out no matter what she was feeling, and his painfully growing attraction for her was making a mockery of any more noble intentions he might harbour. Candidly, all Blaise could really dwell upon was his almost primal need to lose himself inside her, to feel her without censure, to experience the heat and passion he sensed lay simmering just beneath the surface of all that transparent sadness and have her incredible body join with his all night long.
With any other woman he desired the idea of becoming sexually intimate would not be nearly so complicated. But after that incident with Sheba upon their arrival at the house Blaise had again glimpsed the vulnerability and fear of being hurt in Maya’s painfully truthful gaze, and setting out to deliberately seduce her would make him feel like an unscrupulous carbon copy of her detestable ex-boss. He simply couldn’t live with himself if he behaved like that. Maya was a woman to be gently wooed and made to feel safe in a man’s arms, he realised…not thoughtlessly and lustfully tangled in his sheets for a few hot nights then kissed goodbye!
Already he sensed she was the kind of girl most men probably dreamed of marrying. She had it all…beauty, intelligence, sensitivity and kindness. But, given the fine example of marital bliss he had witnessed growing up, and having seen how his father’s once vigorous passion for his mother had frighteningly deteriorated into resentment, jealousy and even violence down the years, marriage and even a long-term relationship with a woman raised the terrifying possibility that he would turn out just like his father. He had his genes, didn’t he? And his temper too, if he was truthful.
No…his grande passion was his work, and he was more than content to let that be his focus for the foreseeable future…
‘Your glass is empty,’ intoned the soft voice from across the table. ‘Shall I pour you some more wine?’
‘No, thanks.’ Having been lost in the disturbing maze of his thoughts, Blaise came firmly back to the present. Unable to help himself, he let his glance sweep lazily and contemplatively across the lovely features before him, then drift down to the demure V of Maya’s dress. It was a neckline that might conceal her curves far more successfully than that black velvet bombshell number he’d first seen her in, but it still paid delectable homage to enough smooth satin skin to make him want to see more.
