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“Let’s go then.”
“Do you have bags, sir?” She queried, as he began to move with a panther-like grace through the luxurious apartment.
“Yes.” He nodded past her shoulder and when she followed his gaze, she saw a suited gentleman in his fifties appear as if from nowhere. “Andrew will bring them.”
“That’s not necessary,” she murmured, her smile intended only for the servant.
Caradoc expelled an audible breath and his nostrils flared at the same time. Finn went to take the bags but Caradoc shook his head minutely.
The servant moved past them, and when Finn would have followed, Caradoc lifted a single hand to bar her progress.
“You are engaged to drive me for the next week or so. You don’t know me, Seraphina, so let me tell you something that will help you … cope … with me.”
She kept her face wiped of any reaction. Instinctively, she believed him to be a man who enjoyed throwing people off kilter. If his mission was to gain the upper-hand, she would not accede it to him.
“Do I need to … cope … with you, sir?”
Was she baiting him?
Was she being deliberately incendiary?
He felt himself harden and the involuntary response angered him further.
It was Gower’s death that was making him unpredictable and uncontrolled.
Not this woman.
“You need to please me,” he chipped. “And I do not need to deal with attitude from someone in my employ while I am here.”
His words smarted, mostly because Seraphina prided herself on her ability to please even the most difficult of clients.
But she wouldn’t apologise.
“I was only offering to carry your luggage, as is absolutely in my job description.”
He was silent. His eyes hovered on her lips, and then lifted to lance her clear green gaze with precision and power. “Your job description is whatever the hell I need it to be now. Got it?”
And with that, he spun on his heel and strode away from her. His back was straight, his shoulder squared, and his manner more puzzling than Finn could have explained.
She had to walk quickly to catch up to him, and it was far from a dignified scene.
Her heart was racing in her chest when she reached him at the lift; her fingers were shaking slightly by her side.
She was nervous!
It was a revelation to a woman who was usually unflappable in the extreme.
When the lift doors closed, she half expected him to continue his strange questioning of her, but he did not. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and stared at the screen. While Finn didn’t dare look directly at him, she could see his reflection in the stainless steel of the doors, and his expression glowed with the same intensity she had recognised when he’d addressed her.
The ride from the thirty seventh floor took barely a minute. The doors swished open onto the ground floor, and by that time, Finn had remembered she was a professional. With a bland, non-committal smile, she gestured towards the doors. “This way, sir.”
He didn’t so much as blink in her direction, but he moved with her, and so Finn presumed he’d heard.
The car was parked directly outside, and Andrew had already stowed the bags in the boot. Finn reached for the back passenger door and held it open, her eyes focussed on a point in the distance. Caradoc’s gaze though drifted across her as he sat down, and it was sardonically mocking.
She ground her teeth together and closed the door a little more forcefully than was necessary before crossing to the driver side and slipping into her seat.
“There are refreshments in the compartment between the seats. Please let me know if you require anything else.”
