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‘Of course.’ He had settled back in the seat as he’d spoken and he was so obviously enjoying her discomfiture that Kay would have slapped him if she’d dared. But she didn’t. Much as she hated to admit it to herself.
‘Now look, Mr Grey, I don’t know what sort of game you think you are playing but you’ve picked the wrong girl,’ she said with acid sharpness. ‘I don’t like the caveman approach, if that’s what you’re thinking, and frankly I find your attitude offensive. I want out of this car and right now.’ She fumbled with the handle but wasn’t surprised to find the door was locked.
‘Aren’t you overreacting a little?’ he asked mildly. ‘All I want to do is to take you to lunch.’
This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t really be locked in a car with a virtual stranger being taken to goodness knew where. She took the last thought a step further when she said, ‘My mother knows I have a luncheon engagement with you today, Mr Grey, as well as my brother.’
‘I should hope so. It would be very unwise not to inform at least one person of your whereabouts in this day and age in which we live,’ he said smoothly.
The dark head had turned to look out of the window a few moments before but now he turned back to face her, one dark eyebrow quirked mockingly as he added, ‘We’re here. Now try to act your age and pretend you are a cool and contained businesswoman being brought out to lunch by a male colleague, okay? That will save us both any embarrassment.’
Embarrassment? She couldn’t imagine Mitchell Grey ever suffering that emotion in the whole of his life. There was arrogance, and then there was this man, and she didn’t even have a word to describe him. Not one she could repeat in civilised company, anyway. If anyone needed taking down a peg or two it was him.
She glanced out of the window of the car as it drew to a stop outside a restaurant she had heard about but never entered—mainly because the cost of a meal there would necessitate taking out a second mortgage—and it was in that moment the idea occurred to her. She glanced at the big dark figure next to her and found his gaze was on her face, a disturbing gleam at the back of his eyes. What was he thinking? What did he expect her to do right at this moment? She rather suspected he was prepared for the fact that she might turn tail and march off, and she really wouldn’t put it past him to manhandle her into the building, awkward though it would be for both of them.
He was a control freak if ever she’d met one—and she had, first hand, she thought tightly as Perry’s face flashed across the screen of her mind for a second. But she wasn’t going to put up with this, not for a moment. Her starry-eyed devotion to Perry had nearly ruined her life and the days had long since gone when she would allow a man to dictate to her.
It had been an uphill struggle for months when, after her father had died and her mother had needed her, she had come back to Romford, leaving her London flat and taking out a mortgage on the tiny house they now all lived in. Her salary had not allowed her to take on more than a small, two-bedroomed place, and even then Ivy Cottage had been dilapidated and in need of renovation. But the 1920’s former ale house had had an endearing air about it, the two bedrooms overlooking what once had been a pretty garden filled with topiary, flower borders, a rockery and even an original brick well, but on their first visit to view had resembled a miniature jungle.
Her father’s bad investments had meant her mother had brought nothing to the kitty, but gradually, with lots of help from Peter and his friends, they had repaired and painted and made good, transforming shabby into chic. Now the panelled front door of Ivy Cottage opened into a beamed sitting room with an open fireplace, which was cosy and charming, the kitchen-diner adequate for their needs, although Kay had to admit there wasn’t room to swing a cat when Peter and his family came round for a meal. But with the twins in one bedroom and Kay and her mother sharing the other, they were happy, and the garden had proved to be a little oasis all year round. Most of all, though, the move back to Romford had saved her mother from slipping into the nervous breakdown the doctor had said was imminent. Leonora had had to take on the care of the twins during the day while Kay worked—nursery fees now being out of the question—and being wanted and useful again, as well as having her daughter and grandchildren with her permanently, had been the stimulant the older woman had needed.
It had been a fight to survive for a while after Perry had gone, but she had not only survived but managed to provide a secure home for the girls and her mother as well as establishing what was now a thriving little business, Kay thought as she climbed out of the car, ignoring Mitchell Grey’s outstretched hand. There was no way she was being walked over by this arrogant brute of a man, and he was going to learn that the hard way very soon. She was self-governing now, independent.
She walked ahead of him into the restaurant, a strange prickly sensation running up and down her spine as they paused just within the doors and he took her elbow, speaking to the head waiter who had flown to their side. ‘Ah, Angelo. You have my table ready?’
‘Of course, Mr Grey.’
The man didn’t actually bow them to the small discreet table set at an angle where they could see but not be on view, but the obsequiousness was enough to set Kay’s teeth further on edge. If people were like this with Mitchell Grey no wonder the man’s ego was inflated to jumbo size!
‘Would you like a cocktail while you look at the menu?’ The wine waiter had appeared at their side the moment they’d been seated. ‘I can recommend the Smouldering Liaison,’ Mitchell Grey said, blandly enough but Kay had noticed the lingering amusement curling his mouth.
‘Cocktails in the lunch h
our?’ She raised what she hoped were coldly disapproving eyebrows.
‘I’m not driving.’ He settled back in his seat, pulling his tie loose and undoing the first couple of buttons of his shirt as he spoke. ‘Are you?’
Kay cleared her dry throat. His powerful masculinity was all the more flagrant for its casual unconsciousness and she didn’t like the way her body had reacted to what was a perfectly normal action on his part. ‘No,’ she admitted coolly. Peter and Tom were handling the driving for today, and although Peter had picked her up in one of the vans that morning she had planned to take a taxi for the short ride home, knowing her brother would be late back. ‘But I like to be alert in the afternoon.’
‘I’m sure you do.’
Four small words, but he managed to make them sound insulting, Kay thought angrily. She bit back on the hot words burning her tongue, glancing at the cocktail menu again. Perhaps she would have a drink at that, she decided. She needed a spot of Dutch courage if she was going to carry out her idea to put Mitchell Grey in his place.
“I’ll have a Sweet Revenge, please,’ she said primly, choosing the cocktail purely for its name rather than the mix of coconut rum, gin, tequila and banana essence it contained.
He whistled slowly through his teeth. ‘Are you sure? It has a kick like a mule.’
‘Revenge always has.’ She smiled sweetly. She wanted him to remember what she’d chosen for a long, long time.
He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘A Sweet Revenge for the lady,’ he said lazily to the waiter, ‘and I’ll have a Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing.’
Except in this case it was definitely a wolf in wolf’s clothing, Kay thought, staring at the hard, rugged profile in the moment before he turned his head and looked at her again. And she certainly wasn’t Little Red Riding Hood.
‘How long are you going to be annoyed with me?’ he asked her softly after a couple of seconds had ticked by.
She forced herself not to lower her gaze although the ice-blue eyes with their silver hue were piercing. ‘You think I should be grateful you tricked me into having lunch with you?’
‘Not exactly.’ His eyes glinted at her and she knew he wasn’t taking any of this seriously. It was more galling than words could express. ‘But surely there are worse crimes than taking a beautiful woman out to eat?’
