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His grandfather frowned. ‘Carly is...well, she’s a guest of mine,’ he finished lamely.
‘How nice for you.’ Dare ran his hand over the length of the tartan rug, noting the frown on Carly Evans’s face as he did so.
‘I can go.’ She moistened her lips with a nervous flicker of her pink tongue. ‘I don’t mind, really—’
‘Stay,’ Dare said, rethinking his position. It might actually be better to have her around to get a full picture of what was going on.
Her eyes darkened infinitesimally at the command. She obviously liked to be the one in charge.
So did he.
His grandfather cleared his throat to cut through the awkward silence and Dare watched him move to the drinks trolley. ‘Cointreau on ice, Carly?’
‘No, thank you,’ she husked, moving forward. ‘I’ll just have water but, here, let me get it. You sit down.’
The lady had expensive taste, Dare thought, but then he knew that from the ruby necklace, which was markedly absent. In fact she wasn’t wearing any jewellery to speak of. Had she not had time to put it on?
He watched as she fixed her own drink and poured tonic water for Benson without having to ask what he would like. How very comfortable it all was. The nubile, young woman playing up to the doddery old rich fool no doubt hoping he’d kick the bucket soon. Dare couldn’t help but acknowledge that he was disappointed. He’d somehow felt she had more substance to her.
Yeah, right. Substance. Was that what he was calling lust these days?
Nothing like a cold shot of reality to kill that bird dead.
He glanced at her ring finger. No diamond rock there. Obviously she still had some work to do yet.
He felt something primitive unfurl inside him. Something dark and dangerous. Disgust, he told himself. Every one of his senses had gone on high alert as soon as she had entered the room and he didn’t like it that he was so aware of her as a woman. Not when she was screwing his grandfather.
Just the thought of the two of them intimate made his stomach turn. Could a man even get it up at that age? A cynical smile touched the corner of Dare’s mouth. He certainly hoped so.
But he wasn’t here to think about his grandfather’s sordid sex life, he reminded himself. He was here to find out why Benson had contacted his mother, and he wouldn’t let himself get sidetracked by this wide-eyed mistress again.
‘As pleasant as this is,’ Dare mocked, facing off against his grandfather, ‘what I want to know is why you contacted my mother.’
A heavy silence followed his lethally soft words and it sent a chill down Carly’s spine.
When Benson had informed her that his grandson would be joining them for drinks Carly had thought he had meant Beckett, and she’d been pleased that she would be able to return his necklace to him and not have to worry about losing it.
Now she wished that it had been Beckett, because she had no idea how to deal with this arrogant American’s barely veiled hostility. She especially had no idea how to deal with the way her insides jolted with nervous heat every time he trained his piercing blue eyes on her.
The Baron inclined his head towards his grandson, a small sigh escaping past his lips. ‘I didn’t imagine this would be easy.’
Carly noted the aggressive stance in the younger man. He might now only be wearing faded denim jeans and a white T-shirt but he looked no less intimidating for it. In fact he looked even more so because now she could see that he was as leanly muscled as she had first imagined. And with black biker boots on his feet...
‘What did you imagine it would be?’ Dare asked the Baron with cold disdain.
‘Difficult,’ he acknowledged wryly.
‘Glad to see you’re a realist.’ His gaze homed in on the Baron like a shooter lining up a clay pigeon. ‘At first I thought you needed money but given the appearance of the place I’ve discounted that. Which leaves the possibility that you’re sick or dying. Not that you look it.’
A gasp escaped Carly before she could contain it. ‘That is so rude,’ she admonished, welcoming the bite of her temper in replace of her previous uncertainty.
Dare’s lethal gaze swung to hers, pinning her to the spot. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly, ‘what made you think I was talking to you?’
Oh! Carly refused to let him intimidate her. The Baron was her patient and it was her job to make sure he was well enough to undergo surgery to remove a brain tumour the size of a golf ball in two weeks’ time. He needed rest and relaxation, not animosity and outright aggression.
She would probably be able to add heart attack to his list of ailments if his grandson continued on in this vein.
‘You shouldn’t speak to anyone like that!’ she reproved.
‘It’s all right, Carly.’ The Baron patted her hand. ‘Dare has a right to feel angry. And from what I understand my grandson has a reputation for being ruthless, powerful, and relentless when he wants something.’ He listed the traits as if they were trophies to be shown off on a mantel, Carly thought with disgust. ‘It actually pleases me that he feels the need to defend Rachel.’
Carly tried to accept the Baron’s version of things. Rachel, she knew, was Dare’s mother, but other than that she didn’t know anything about their history.
Fortunately the butler chose that moment to enter quietly and announce that dinner was ready to be served.
‘Very good, Roberts.’ The Baron smiled, but Carly could see it was strained. ‘Dare, I was hoping that you might join us for the evening meal.’
Carly couldn’t believe he was extending an invitation, given the level of disrespect he had been shown.
‘I hadn’t intended to,’ Dare said coldly, and Carly felt her shoulders relax slightly as he declined. ‘But if it’s okay with Miss Evans perhaps I will.’
If it was okay with her? Carly’s spine snapped straight. Why would he put this on her?
‘Of course it’s all right with me,’ she said, too brightly.
‘Very good.’ She felt the Baron’s relief as he exhaled. ‘Shall we adjourn to the dining room? I, for one, am very eager to find out what Mrs Carlisle has prepared in your honour, Dare, and I do so enjoy eating my food without indigestion. Roberts, if you would be so kind as to set another place at the table?’
‘Very good, sir.’
For a moment Carly thought—hoped—that Dare was going to change his mind, but then he shrugged.
‘I haven’t eaten anything decent since breakfast. Lead the way, old man.’
She felt the Baron tense as he cupped her elbow and she wanted to strangle Dare James with her bare hands. She was quite sure that whatever bad blood was between these men it didn’t warrant this level of disrespect.
Reminding herself that it really wasn’t any of her business, and that she was here for the Baron and the Baron alone, Carly let him lead her out of the room, acutely aware of Dare’s cold eyes on her as she moved past.
She was infinitely glad that she’d taken the time with her appearance before dinner. And she told herself that she hadn’t done so on the off chance that she’d run into this horrible stranger again...she’d done it because...yes, okay, she had wondered if she’d run into him in passing and she’d somehow felt that she’d need armour if she did. Well, she’d certainly got that right. And she had no idea how she was going to make it through a whole dinner if the Baron’s grandson didn’t start playing nice.
‘You’ve done well for yourself, Dare,’ the Baron said as they were all seated at the large dining table.
‘Unlike my loser father, you mean?’
The Baron sighed. ‘I didn’t mean to sound as if I was passing judgment.’ He moved aside as a plate was placed in front of him. ‘Though you do seem to have inherited your father’s acerbic wit.’
Score one for the older gentleman, Carly thought, completely disconcerted when she glanced across the table to find Dare staring at her.
‘That’s not all I inherited,’ Dare bit out tautly.
‘Duck à l’orange,’ the Baron said, inhaling the fragrance as the servant stepped back. ‘My favourite.’
Carly gave him a secret smile. ‘I do relent sometimes,’ she teased.
‘This is all very nice,’ Dare bit out, not hiding the fact that he didn’t think it was nice at all. ‘But I didn’t come here to discuss food or to make small talk.’
Tension crossed the table like laser beams.
‘I can see that,’ the Baron said. He put down his fork. ‘What did you come for, Dare? To put me in my place?’
‘It’s no less than you deserve.’
‘I’m not going to argue with you about that,’ Benson said quietly, ‘but you have to understand I’ve only recently become abridged of your father’s death. And of the fact that Rachel must have struggled for years afterwards. That she even had a child. You!’
‘And you think that entitles you to contact her?’ Dare said with barely leashed fury. ‘You rejected her. You kicked her out when she chose my father over your archaic expectations. But she doesn’t need you now. She’s doing fine.’
‘Thanks to you,’ Benson acknowledged softly.
‘My mother is a strong woman with high morals. She would have made it fine without me.’
Completely shocked by Dare’s revelations, Carly felt like an interloper with no idea how to ease the tension between the two men.
‘Perhaps we should save this conversation for when we’re alone.’ The Baron touched Carly’s hand as he spoke and she realised she had a forkful of food held halfway to her mouth. ‘There’s no need to ruin Carly’s appetite, hmm?’
‘But it was okay to ruin my mother’s life?’ Dare’s gaze was harsh when it landed on her again and her heart thumped behind her breastbone. ‘By all means.’ He stabbed a morsel of food on his plate. ‘Let’s not upset the lovely Carly. Tell me, Miss Evans, how long have you known my grandfather?’
Clearing her throat, and glad for the opportunity to turn the conversation away from the Baron in case it ratcheted up his blood pressure, Carly smiled politely. ‘A few months now.’ She had met Benson at a nearby clinic when he’d first presented with breathing problems and when he’d learned she was temping he’d requested her services.
‘And when did you move in?’
Distracted by his mesmerising blue eyes, she took a sip of her sparkling wine. ‘Three weeks ago. I...’ She stopped, realising that she was about to reveal the reason for her stay. ‘I—’
‘I know of Carly’s family,’ Benson cut in to save her. ‘A happy coincidence really. Our ancestors fought together against the Jacobite Rebellion in 1715. Carly is the relative of a famous viscount.’
Dare curled his lip as if he couldn’t have cared if she were directly in line to the throne. And her heritage hardly counted when she was the distant cousin of a cousin, and her family had lived a very humble existence for well over a century now.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ Roberts said, approaching Benson. ‘A phone call has come through. I think you’ll want to take it.’
‘Fine, Roberts. Thank you.’
Looking irritated at the interruption, Benson pushed to his feet and took the hands-free phone proffered by the butler. He frowned in Carly and Dare’s direction. ‘I apologise for this interruption.’
As soon as the door closed behind him Carly was acutely aware of the antique clock ticking away in the corner of the room and the lean, powerful male regarding her across the table.
Dare James was too big, too sure of himself, and too arrogant for her liking. Oh, he didn’t exactly have Daniel’s air of cultured superiority over others—something she hadn’t noticed until Daniel had well and truly humiliated her—no, Dare’s was more a latent power that drew the eye and let everyone around him know that he was in charge. Which was just as bad.
The T-shirt he wore did little to contain the bulge in his biceps and he looked as if he had the strength to rip a giant oak out of the ground and snap it in half. Right now he looked as if he wanted to snap her in half.
A shiver raced down her spine at the memory of those large hands skimming over her, leaving her hot and bothered. She’d attributed her earlier physical response to the heat of the day and her worry over Gregory muddling her senses. Now she knew that it was her feminine instincts signalling danger with capital letters and she was listening. This time, she was definitely listening.
‘More wine, Miss Evans?’
Carly regarded him warily as he picked up the wine bottle. As tempted as she was to settle her sudden nervousness with more alcohol, Carly knew drinking any more would put her at a disadvantage with this man. ‘No, thank you.’ She cleared her throat, searching around her frazzled mind for something to say. ‘So, is this your first time at Rothmeyer House?’ she asked.
‘You mean you don’t know?’
‘No,’ she said politely, her mind still absorbing what she had heard about his family history. ‘Should I?’
Dare watched her nibble on the corner of her lower lip and he almost felt sorry for her. Then he remembered why she was even here and felt like snarling. ‘I would have thought so.’
‘I can’t imagine why.’
‘So sweet,’ he murmured, wondering if her lips would feel as soft as they looked.
She frowned. ‘I can see that you’re very upset with your grandfather but do you really think that coming over all macho and being aggressive is going to help the situation?’
‘Oh, good,’ he said. ‘We finally get to the part of the evening where we give up pretending we have to be polite to each other.’
Carly stared at him in shocked silence and Dare nearly laughed. What did she expect? That he would welcome his grandfather’s innocent little mistress into his life with open arms? Not likely.
‘I wasn’t aware that you had been polite,’ she mocked. ‘I must have missed that brief moment in time.’
Dare laughed. ‘You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.’
She frowned at him. ‘Is this because I ran out in front of you on the road?’ she asked. Her expression so sweetly confused he found himself wanting to be taken in by her.
‘Try again,’ he said, calling himself a fool.
‘Try again?’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know what to try again. I have no idea why you’re being so hostile towards me.’
‘You think I’m hostile?’
He knew damned well he was being hostile, Carly thought. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was usually the doctor others called on to deal with belligerent patients. ‘Yes, you’re being hostile,’ she said calmly.
‘On the contrary, I don’t think I’ve been hostile at all. But if it makes you feel better, then I’ll try to fix it.’
Carly let out a relieved breath. ‘Thank you.’ She gave him a shaky smile. ‘It’s just that your grandfather is very...tired at the moment.’
‘Oh, now that’s just showing off, Red.’
Showing off? Red? Carly’s teeth ground together at his mocking tone. ‘It’s a basic human kindness to be civil,’ she reminded him. ‘If he were a stranger on the street I’m sure you wouldn’t say the things you have.’
‘But he’s not a stranger on the street. He’s a wealthy old fool.’ He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘And while we’re on the subject, I have to commend you on your fast work. You must have some very special attributes to get in here in under a month.’
Carly frowned. If this was him trying to be less hostile he needed to go see someone about it. ‘What do you mean by fast work?’
‘The innocent confusion is good,’ he murmured. ‘It’s a real turn-on. But I’m quite sure you know that. Tell me, Miss Evans, do you like books?’
Carly blinked. ‘Books?’
