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'The poor woman.' Miriam looked at him aghast.
'Yes.' He eyed her grimly. 'However, my sympathy is somewhat tempered by the fact that she was carrying far too much at the time—something I have warned her about over and over again—and the accident has had the effect of making a difficult situation well nigh impossible. A temporary housekeeper will be more trouble than she's worth, especially now—' He broke off as he made an exclamation of irritation. 'And for crying out loud stop looking at me as though I've developed horns, would you?'
'I'm sorry.' Miriam lowered her head quickly before the urge to say more spilled over. She had never met such a heartless brute in all her life. Was he for real?
'So what do you intend to do?' Mitch asked quietly as they walked through into the main part of the house again and towards the room that they had vacated a few minutes earlier.
'There is little I can do,' he replied tersely. 'Obviously Mrs Goode will have to do the best she can with limited mobility, but muddling through is not an activity that appeals to me, Mr Bennett. I can, and shall, employ temporary staff while my guests are in residence, but it's inconvenient—damn inconvenient.'
'Can't your sister help?' Miriam ventured tentatively as he waved them to the two seats in front of the desk again. 'I know it's a busy time for her but—'
'Exactly.' He eyed her frostily. 'And frankly, Miss Bennett, once you have met Barbara you will understand why I have no intention of letting her loose on my household; the results would be chaotic.'
He raked his hand through his hair in a gesture that spoke of immense frustration. 'And it shouldn't be necessary anyway. Everything was organised most capably by my secretary three months ago, when Barbara announced her engagement. I paid an inordinate amount of money in order to secure the services of first-class companies to prevent this very thing from happening.'
'Well, the best laid plans of mice and men…' Miriam said philosophically. 'I'm sure it will all work out in the end.'
'Then you are more confident than I, Miss Bennett,' he growled tightly, his scowl indicating his opinion of hear optimism. 'Now, I can spare you a further five minutes so let's go over the bones of the thing.'
By the time they left, exactly five minutes later, Miriam knew that she loathed Reece Vance. He might be fabulously wealthy and live in the sort of mansion that she had only seen in glossy magazines; he might be more-much more, if she was being honest—than averagely attractive, with the sort of rough, he-man sex appeal that some women found irresistible, but to her he was—the pits.
She glanced at him now on the doorstep as he towered over them, his harsh, dark face and narrowed eyes infinitely cold. Definitely the pits. Rude, aggressive, unapproachable… The list was endless.
'I shall expect one of you here tomorrow at ten o'clock to make contact with Mrs Goode,' he said abruptly.
'That's no problem.' Miriam nodded quickly. 'I'll come; Mitch has an appointment.'
'Right.' The tone was terse. 'And you'll bring a rough outline of what you propose, along with time schedules and—'
'I'll bring all that's necessary.' He hadn't liked her interrupting him—she could see it in the silver-grey eyes that reflected the cold winter sky overhead—but now she smiled cheerfully as she held out a small, slim hand for him to shake. 'Goodbye, Mr Vance. We have an appointment shortly, so do excuse us rushing off.' It was a blatant lie but it was either that or giving in to any of a number of impulses that were running through her mind, all of which would have had dire consequences on the prospect of their employment.
'Goodbye, Miss Bennett.' As he took her hand in his she was suddenly conscious of the feel of his warm, hard flesh encompassing hers, and a little flicker of sensation shivered right down to her toes, bringing her soft violet eyes wide open with surprise. She wanted to snatch her hand away, to object somehow, but in the next instant she was free anyway as he turned his rapier-sharp gaze to Mitch.
She stood, more shaken than she cared to admit, and watched him as he said goodbye to her brother, noticing that there were flecks of silver in the jet-black hair that added to rather than detracted from the virile magnetism of the man.
He frightened her. The thought was there before she could control it and, once given life, shocked her. But it was true. There was something about him that had nothing to do with his outward appearance—a dark force, a fascination, compelling and cold and quite unfathomable, that she had never, ever come across in her life before.
'Till tomorrow.' He dismissed them with a cool nod but didn't step back inside the house as she had expected; instead he stood and watched them walk over to their little beaten-up jalopy, his eyes burning into the back of her head. She suddenly found that she didn't quite know how to walk, was vitally conscious of her body in a way she never had been before, and breathed a soft sigh of relief as she pulled open the door and sank down onto the moth-eaten seat.
'Well, what do you think?' Mitch turned to her as he slid into the car beside her with a slightly dazed grin, which faded as he noticed her pale face. 'What's the matter? You aren't having second thoughts about this now, are? you?'
'Just start the engine and drive the gar, Mitch.' She knew, without looking, that he was still there on the steps, the big, lean body relaxed and indolent as he watched them leave and the hard, superior face alert, silver eyes intent.
'All right, all right.' The car took several seconds to flare into life, as it always did, and by the time Mitch persuaded it into a semicircle and they passed the house Reece Vance had gone. It was only at that point that she relaxed back in the seat.
'It's no good looking like that, Mim,' Mitch grumbled softly at her side as he negotiated a small patch of black ice in the middle of the long, winding drive that led from the grounds surrounding the house to the main road in the far distance. 'You were the one who jumped in with both feet. I thought y
ou wanted to accept the job anyway. What—?'
'I do, I do.' The interior of the car was even colder than the icy weather outside, and she blew on her hands before wrapping them under each armpit. 'I'm just not looking forward to seeing any more of him, that's all.'
'Why?' Mitch turned the heater on and then quickly off again as a blast of arctic frost seared their faces. 'I'd better let it warm up a bit first.' He turned to her for a second, his face enquiring. 'Why don't you want to see him again?' he asked mildly. 'I thought he was OK, and the deal is one hell of a generous one if we can pull it off.'
'Of course we can pull it off,' she said firmly, her voice determined. 'It's the chance of a lifetime for a small firm like ours, and if we do a good job he might recommend us to a few of his friends. It's just…' Her voice trailed away as her brow wrinkled. 'He's so rude and abrupt—'
'The guy is in a bit of a spot, Mim,' Mitch said quietly, his tone so reasonable that she immediately felt guilty. 'First the caterers rocking the boat and now his housekeeper out of action. It'd make anyone…edgy.'
'Hmm.' Miriam eyed him carefully. 'Well, how about if I do the Baker job tomorrow and you come back here, then?'
