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‘Keys.’
‘Lukas, really...’
‘If you know what’s good for you you’ll stop arguing with me and give me the keys.’
Exasperated by his harsh tone and grudgingly glad of his help at the same time Eleanore handed over her handbag. How she found someone so bossy and so controlling so utterly attractive was beyond rational thought. It just went to show that you couldn’t trust hormones.
‘You might want to go and change.’
Eleanore looked down and realised that her skirt and stockings were caked with mud from the melted snow and dirt and that she smelt like garbage. ‘I have to take care of the kitten.’
He pulled a disgusted face. ‘Give it to me.’
‘What are you going to do with her?’
He lifted the spitting, mewling creature from her arms and it looked tiny as he brought it up to his wide chest. ‘Not much. It’s too small to turn into a hat.’
‘A hat! You wouldn’t...’ She stopped. Looked at him. ‘You’re teasing me,’ she realised with a start.
‘I’m going to put it in the utility room.’ His gaze raked over her. ‘You’re shaking. Are you sure you’re not hurt?’
‘No.’ But she felt cold. All over. ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’
‘Too late for that.’ He waved her away. ‘Go take a shower. I’ll take care of this flea bag you insist on keeping.’
Half an hour later and dressed in leggings and an oversize sweatshirt she came back to find Lukas wiping up water on the black-and-white tiles on the kitchen floor. Almost immediately she realised it wasn’t water he was cleaning up. ‘Was that the kitten?’
He glanced up at her. ‘It certainly wasn’t me.’
A grin split her face at his pretended chagrin and she stifled a laugh. ‘I’m sorry. I could have taken care of that.’
He dumped the soggy paper towels in the trash and washed his hands in the sink. ‘I’ve cleaned up worse.’
A fleeting moment of utter bleakness clouded his face and she immediately wanted to know what had put it there. Somehow she didn’t think it was her, although perhaps she had made it worse... ‘You’re still angry with me,’ she said.
‘Absolutely.’
She sighed. ‘I don’t regret it but what if I admit that what I did was stupid?’
‘That’s just agreeing with me. Kids on the street are desperate. They’ll do anything for money.’
‘Anything?’
‘Da, anything.’
The look in his eyes was hard and edgy and she remembered his comment in the alleyway about the trick she’d fallen for. ‘No, I’ve done it before.’
Had he spent his childhood on the streets? The idea seemed ludicrous given how well-spoken he was, how cultured, but it would explain that air of danger all the well-made suits in the world couldn’t eradicate and it would also explain why there was very little information on him prior to when he was twenty-five and had burst onto the international scene with a rusty fleet of container ships he’d turned into a multimillion-dollar concern by the time he was thirty. Now he seemed to have his hand in everything from ships to shoeshine products and whatever he touched turned to gold.
‘Were you a street kid?’
Probably if she’d thought before she’d spoken she wouldn’t have blurted the question out like that because he stiffened and that untameable quality that made her blood quicken crossed his face.
For a minute he hesitated and she thought that he was going to confirm her suspicions, that he was going to open up to her, and it surprised her how much she wanted him to do so. How much she cared.
‘Nobody could question your imagination, that’s for sure, Miss Harrington.’ He gave a short laugh as if her idea was ludicrous and Eleanore was embarrassed she’d said anything.
‘You won’t be able to keep the kitten, you realise,’ he added. ‘It’s probably got fleas. And worse.’
Surprised to find that she’d forgotten all about the kitten Eleanore glanced around the floor guiltily. ‘I’m not letting her go. She’ll die and I don’t care what you say about the survival of the fittest. I’m fit and I’ll take care of her. Where is she?’
‘He is in the laundry.’
‘Oh.’ She smiled at the slip and for Lukas it was like the sun coming out from behind a black cloud. Completely dazzling. ‘My mistake.’
