Page 36 of The Millionaire's Baby

She would have twisted her head away but he moved before she was able to shake herself out of

the trance, fastening his seat belt and starting the engine.

'What are you doing?' Was that her voice, that fee­ble wail?

'Taking you to where we can have some privacy. Fasten your seat belt.'

She did, but only to stop him doing it for her. The lodge came in sight around the bend and she gabbled, 'Stop here. All the privacy you need—they won't be home before midnight!'

He drove on as if she hadn't spoken and she gath­ered up what was left of her pride and the bits of her spirit that hadn't been crushed and said crossly, 'Look, I know you've got every reason to be annoyed with me, but isn't this taking things a tad too far?'

Being cooped up with him in a moving vehicle was having a disastrous effect on her hormones. Much more of this close proximity and she'd start acting like a fool. Again. She'd done quite enough of that when she'd crawled all over him and told him she loved him! 'Why don't you pull over, say what's bothering you, and be on your way?'

'I am on my way, sweetheart. And you're coming with me. We've got a lot to talk about, and Ma's looking after Sophie in London, and the decorators have moved out of Mytton Wells. There's not much there in the way of home comforts as yet. A bed, a couple of chairs—'

'If you're suggesting what I think you're suggest­ing—'

'That we spend the night at Mytton getting straight­ened out. That's about the size of it, yes.' He turned his head, his silver eyes laughing at her. 'And before you start getting righteously indignant, or coming up with a thousand and one reasons for not spending the night with me, just think on.'

The very idea of them spending the night together made her feel like a gutted rag doll. She couldn't think why he'd want to, why he'd go to the trouble of vir­tually kidnapping her. Unless, of course, he was bored.

He'd had business with her grandmother and had in any case intended to go cross country to his new home, perhaps to check on the decorators' work. So why not take her with him? She'd made it perfectly plain on the afternoon of the thunderstorm that she was very ready and rather more than willing!

So she'd do. Provided, of course, she kept her mouth shut and didn't mention his former wife, be­cause that, as if she didn't know it, was a sackable offence!

The idea of it kept her speechless. Speechless with trying to ignore the lure of the forbidden, the out-of-the-question, the ultimate in temptation—

'When I followed you out of the room back there I had a quick word with your grandmother. I said I was taking you to Mytton, to expect you back when she saw you, and not to worry. You don't have to be in work tomorrow. It's Sunday. So that's sorted. Which leaves us free to sort out what we feel about each other.'

And just how would they do that? In that bed he'd mentioned? She didn't need to be over-endowed in the imagination department to picture it.

What with loving him so madly, her total lack of will-power when he was around with that sexy, sinful smile, those wicked, glinting eyes, she knew exactly what would happen. Knew she'd rapturously consum­mate her love for him, give him all her loving and then some, and then get thrown off his property if she so much as opened her mouth and said something she shouldn't.

Thanks, but no, thanks.

'We've a way to go,' he said, and whether he meant it in cross-country miles or in reaching some kind of mutual understanding Caro didn't know, and gave up wondering as he told her, 'Ma's happy to look after Sophie in London while I arrange furnishing and part-time staff for Mytton Wells. She'll be in England until the autumn, which is when I'd planned to take up the reins at the bank again, so that gives me time to or­ganise everything this end. I'll work mainly from home, I've decided, so that I can spend as much time as possible around Sophie and whoever's being sur­rogate mum.'

He meant Sophie's future nanny, of course. It cer­tainly would not be her. That dratted lump clogged up her throat again and she said hoarsely, 'It all sounds quite perfect. But I'm sure you didn't kidnap me to talk about your domestic arrangements.'

'Too right I didn't. And be honest—I didn't kidnap you, Caro. Instinct tells me you want to be with me; all you needed was a little persuading.'

His instinct was right on the mark, she decided glumly, knotting her fingers together in her lap and wishing he didn't have the ability to look deep into the secrets of her heart.

Of course she could have resisted, told him she re­fused to go anywhere with him, much less spend the night with him at Mytton. If she'd said it loudly enough, firmly enough, he would have listened. He wasn't a criminal and he wasn't a brute.

He would be remembering her confession of love. She wondered miserably how much mileage he in­tended to make out of that!

They'd left the motorway and the major roads were behind them and the sturdy vehicle had slowed down in the narrow tangle of lanes. It wouldn't be long be­fore they reached his new home and that would test her emotional strength to the very limit.

Mytton Wells. Twice the scene of her humiliation and pain. Yet it was where she most longed to be. With him. With Sophie. For always.

'I've got a shrewd idea what this is all about. Punishment,' she said gruffly. 'So bawl me out as much as you like—for the stunt I pulled, I fully de­serve it. I'd prefer it if you didn't publicly humiliate the agency, but I'll understand if you feel you must. Passing myself off as a competent, trained nanny was unforgivable, unprofessional and immature. I apolo­gise unreservedly.'

It was the nearest she could get to grovelling and did not merit his roar of laughter. 'You find me amus­ing?' she said frigidly.

He took his eyes off the road for a second and flicked her a wicked glance. 'Amusing, exasperating, sexy, appealing, adorable. And I've no intention of bawling you out, as you put it. And the only damage I'm likely to do to your precious agency is to deprive them of your presence. If I can do the lion's share of my work from an office at home, then so can you.'

Caro stared at his profile. He looked normal. He didn't look like someone who'd suddenly lost it, gone off his trolley.

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