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Yet the image in the mirror mocked her with its flushed cheeks and the normally neat hair tumbling down around her face. And if that kiss had made Jack into someone she didn’t really recognise—couldn’t the same be said about her? Was that wide-eyed creature really her?
Her thoughts spinning, she tried to put it into perspective. She was wary of men, yes—but she wasn’t a prude. She knew that sex was part of life and long ago she had decided that she was going to hold out for love, if such a thing existed. She’d seen too many people sell themselves short—and the truth was that she’d never felt even a flicker of interest in a man before. Not before Jack. And then suddenly along had come this great big flame of desire which now threatened to engulf her.
But it was wrong on so many levels. Jack was her boss and he was an aristocrat. And things like that mattered. Rich and eligible landowners didn’t form serious relationships with teenage girls who’d spent their life in the care system. Not unless they had traffic-stopping good looks and legs up to their armpits. They might want to take them to bed—to have a bit of a fling with them—but that was as far as it went. This was her job she was putting into jeopardy—a job she needed far too much to risk losing.
But you liked it, didn’t you? You liked it a lot. For all your supposed high moral stance about men—you capitulated pretty quickly. Maybe you’re more like your mother than you thought you were.
Her fingers shaking, she pinned her hair back and shook her head at her own flushed reflection. No! She was nothing like her mother.
And then to her horror she heard a knock on the door and knew it could only be one person.
‘Ashley?’
She heard the dark note underpinning his voice and froze.
‘Ashley, answer me! I know you’re in there. Are you going to open the damned door?’
Her heart thundering, she stared at the dark oak barrier which lay between them. ‘And if I don’t?’
‘Then you’ll make me very angry indeed.’
Angrier than he already sounded? she wondered. But what choice did she have other than to open it? She could hardly barricade herself in there like some sort of cowering princess in a tower. She was going to have to come out and face him some time. Cautiously, she pulled open the door to find him standing there, his black eyes spitting out a series of conflicting messages. Anger, yes—and irritation, certainly. But she wasn’t a fool—and only a fool would have denied the desire which still smouldered at their smoky depths.
He studied her. ‘So why the dramatics? Why the hell did you run off like that?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘Not really, no. Was it such a terrible thing which happened, Ashley? Do I repulse you so much that it made your flesh crawl?’
She blushed as she stared down at the ground—unwilling to meet the accusation in his eyes, terrified that he would see the naked longing in hers. ‘You know you don’t,’ she answered quietly.
‘Yes, I do know.’ Frustration heated his blood, swamping all the guilt which coursed through his veins. And it took every ounce of self-possession he knew not to take her into his arms and kiss away that pious expression on her face. ‘So what made you run away like that?’ he questioned again. ‘Were you afraid that I was going to have my wicked way with you out there on the hilltop, whether you liked it or not?’
Steadily, she lifted her eyes. ‘It was wrong, Jack. You know it was wrong. We both do.’
Jack shook his head. How dared she—she—tell him what was right and what was wrong? Yet the irony was that she was speaking the truth—it was wrong—though she didn’t have a clue why. And maybe he should listen to her. Turn his back and walk away while he still could—before he did something he might regret and brought a whole pile of repercussions crashing down around him. Instinct told him to go while he still could and that instinct was strong—but the siren call of his body was even stronger. ‘Why was it wrong?’ he demanded.
‘Because… because I work for you. Because of who I am and who you are. We’re worlds apart. Or rather, I don’t come from you
r sort of world.’ Her voice quietened. ‘But you’re an intelligent man, Jack—and you certainly don’t need me to spell it out for you.’
His lips curved. ‘So you’re inhibited by old-fashioned ideas about social status, is that it? About your place in society and mine? Why, I’m disappointed in you, Ashley.’
‘Well, don’t be—it’s the truth, and you know it.’
‘Is it? Even if it was—I wasn’t proposing we spend a lifetime together,’ he added cuttingly. ‘I just thought we could enjoy something which we have both been wanting for some time.’
It was the best thing he could have said—even if it was also the most hurtful. Because it reinforced what Ashley already suspected. That to Jack, she was just a commodity. Like a bottle of wine or a new shirt—she was something which he would use, enjoy and then ultimately discard. And where would that leave her? Creeping away from here shamefaced when the job ended—with him probably feeling disgusted at himself, maybe even giving her a lukewarm reference as a consequence, and jeopardising future job prospects into the bargain.
‘Do you know why they say you should never mix business and pleasure?’ she returned hotly, his arrogance giving her the strength to fight her corner. ‘Because it happens to be true.’ She drew a deep breath as she struggled to convince herself. ‘And it mustn’t happen again, Jack. It mustn’t. Do you understand?’
There was silence for a moment as he saw the determination written on her now-pale features and the exquisite irony of the situation didn’t escape him. Quiet little Ashley Jones who had been on fire in his arms was now primly telling him that it was a no-go. Did she think he was going to fight to change her mind? Sweep her into his arms and make her rethink? Well, in that case—she was going to be very disappointed.
His mouth tightened. ‘Very well, Ashley,’ he said, his voice low. ‘If that’s what you want, then that’s exactly what you’ll get.’ And, with a finality which took her breath away, he turned swiftly on his heel and walked away, leaving her staring at his retreating back as tears began to well in her eyes. Hotly, they pricked at her eyes as she sank down on the bed, burying her face in her hands and wondering how she could have let him go like that. Turned away the only man she had ever really wanted.
Because it was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. And if she was going to carry on working for him—then they had both better forget that it had ever happened.
It took a strange kind of courage to go and face him again, but Jack wasn’t in the study when she went downstairs. In fact, there was no sign of him anywhere in the house—only a rather disconsolate-looking Casey sniffing around the place and looking as lost as he always did when his master wasn’t around. And when Christine arrived later that day, carrying a whole load of shopping and provisions, unusually, she didn’t ask where Jack was.
