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Darcy relished this sensation even less! She caught her breath angrily at the calculated rebuff.
‘Well, that put me in my place, didn’t it?’
A spasm of something close to regret flickered across Reece’s features.
‘Hold on.’ He moved to intercept her before she reached the door. ‘My friend’s builders have been a little less than truthful with their reports to him,’ he explained abruptly. ‘I’d say they’ve fallen behind schedule by a couple of months. I was expecting something less…basic.’
‘Then you’re not staying?’ Of course he’s not, dumbo.
‘I wasn’t…’
Sure she must have misheard his soft response, Darcy raised her startled eyes to his face. ‘What’s changed?’
He was watching her with that infuriatingly enigmatic smile that told her absolutely nothing. ‘I like the neighbours.’
Their eyes met and a great rush of sexual longing crowded out sensible coherent thought. She never figured out how long she stood there staring at him like a drooling idiot.
Does he think all he has to do is click his fingers and I’ll…? Why not, Darcy, girl, that’s all he had to do last night! Her face flushed with mortification.
‘Like the idea of sex on tap, you mean!’
His mouth tightened.
‘Well, let me tell you, if you think last night was anything other than a one-off, think again!’ she advised hotly.
‘Does the idea of a relationship based on sex frighten you, Darcy?’
‘No,’ she told him candidly, ‘it appalls me!’
‘And excites you,’ he interjected slyly.
‘No such thing!’ she blustered.
‘Liar…you want me and we both know it.’
Darcy gave a hoarse, incredulous laugh—talk about Neanderthal. ‘Why not just thump your chest and drag me off to your cave?’
Reece thought the general idea was sound, although he was thinking more along the lines of a nice hotel room with good plumbing and Room Service.
‘It may not be a particularly politically correct thing to say, but—’
‘May?’ she squeaked. ‘There’s no “may” about it!’
‘Tell me, do you regret last night happened? Do you regret we made love, Darcy?’
She lifted her chin, met his eyes scornfully, and opened her mouth. ‘You bet I…’ The blood drained dramatically from her face. ‘I…no,’ she admitted with the utmost reluctance—now would have been a good time to lie.
‘As I was saying, from the first moment I saw you…’
Perhaps the significance of her confession was wasted on him…? Then again, perhaps this was wishful thinking on her part.
‘The first moment you saw me you thought I was a boy. Is there something you’re not telling me…?’
He eyed her with signs of irritation. ‘So, not the first,’ he gritted. ‘We’re not talking about then, we’re talking about now.’
Darcy didn’t want to talk about now—actually, she didn’t want to talk about anything with this infuriating man who seemed to have the knack of making her say incriminating things.
‘And now,’ she announced coldly, ‘I’m going home—or I would be if you’d shift yourself.’ She looked pointedly past his shoulder at the door.
Reece immediately stepped to one side with a fluid grace that made her stomach muscles quiver; perversely she found herself reluctant to take the escape route offered.
Whilst she hovered indecisively he moved to her side. ‘I’ll walk you home.’
Darcy’s eyes widened. ‘You’re joking—right?’
‘Actually,’ he confessed, ‘I was hoping you’d let me have the use of your shower, or, better still, a long, hot bath.’
‘My God, but you’ve got a nerve!’ she gasped.
‘I’ve also got several broken ribs, extensive bruising and a bust shoulder, but don’t let that influence your decision.’
Despite herself, Darcy felt a smile forming. ‘We’re not a hotel!’ she told him severely.
‘Is that a no?’
Darcy’s eyes narrowed. ‘It should be.’ He didn’t look surprised by her capitulation, but then, why would he, when you’ve already proved you’re a push-over in every sense of the word? ‘If you say anything to my family about…you know what…’
‘So, Darce…?’
‘So what?’ Darcy waved her secateurs in her brother’s face. ‘If you’re going to get in my way you might as well carry this lot.’ She indicated the large pile of freshly cut holly at her feet.
‘Me!’
My God, but men were hopeless. ‘I suppose you’d just stand there and watch me shift the lot.’ They’d certainly stand by and watch her decorate the house with boughs of festive greenery, not to mention decorate the enormous tree that by family tradition they collected from the local garden centre owned by her godparents.
‘It’s sharp.’
‘It’s holly, Nick; of course it’s sharp.’
‘This sweater cost me a fortune,’ he grumbled, preceding her up the garden path. ‘Where do you want it?’ he asked when they eventually reached the house.
‘Leave it in the porch. Feel like a cup of coffee?’ she asked as her brother followed her into the house.
‘I feel like some answers.’
Darcy, her expression suspicious, watched as he plucked a couple of stray glossy leaves from the fine rib of his sweater.
‘About what?’ she asked, trying not to sound defensive.
‘About what you were doing with our neighbour. I thought you couldn’t stand him.’
‘I can’t,’ Darcy asserted stoutly. ‘The man had a serious accident. What was I supposed to do—say he couldn’t take a shower?’ She turned away, crashing the cups and saucers. ‘Did you say you wanted tea or coffee?’
‘Neither. It would be when you bumped into him while you were walking the dogs that he asked to use our facilities, would it, Darce…?’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she agreed quickly, not turning around.
‘Since when, little sister, did you take the dogs for a walk wearing your pyjamas?’
Darcy started and spilt the milk over the work surface.
‘Language!’ her brother reproached.
She shot him a withering glance and wiped her clammy palms on the seat of her jeans before she picked up the cup; the faint tremor in her fingers was barely noticeable—though eagle-eyed Nick had probably spotted it.
‘Since when did you become Miss Marple?’ She laughed lightly as she planted herself on a chair and raised the scalding drink to her lips. Playing it down was the best way to go…
‘Since I looked into your room after I took the dogs for a walk around seven and found you weren’t there.’
All the colour bar a small pink circle over either cheek fled Darcy’s guilty face. ‘What were you doing in my room?’
‘Fetching you a cup of tea.’
It was typical of Nick to discover his considerate side at the worst possible moment. ‘Oh…’ What else could she say? She certainly wasn’t going to volunteer any more information if she could help it!
‘What is a guy like him with that sort of serious money doing hanging around someone like you?’ Nick wondered suspiciously. ‘No offence intended, Darce…’ he added casually.
Darcy wondered what he’d say if she told him she took offence—serious offence. She was about to quiz her tactless sibling on the ‘serious money’ statement when his next comment distracted her.
‘Has he followed you here, Darcy, is that it? I’m assuming you’d already met before yesterday.’
‘Why on earth would you think that?’ There was no way he could have picked anything up from her attitude when she’d brought Reece back earlier. She’d been very careful about that—so careful, in fact, that her behaviour had bordered on the catatonic, before she’d swiftly excused herself and nipped off to the church to do the flowers—it was Mum’s turn on the rota; Adam would probably have a fit when he saw her efforts.
‘I think that because I didn’t think you were the sort of girl who would spend the night with a complete stranger.’ If what he had said wasn’t bad enough, Nick had to go and make it even worse by adding, ‘Even if he is rich and powerful.’
For several moments Darcy didn’t do anything, but when she finally lifted her eyes from the rim of her coffee-cup they were sparkling with anger.
‘How dare you?’
Nick looked taken aback by the rancour in his sister’s shaking voice. ‘Come on, Darce, you must admit it was pretty sus…’
‘I don’t have to admit anything!’ she said in a low, intense voice that throbbed with emotion. Carefully pushing her seat back, she rose to her feet. ‘Not to you at least.’ She ran her tongue over the bloodless outline of her pale lips. ‘Just for the record, Nick, you’re the biggest hypocrite I know.’
His eyes filled with concern, Nick rose to his feet. ‘Darce, I didn’t mean—’
Darcy cut him off with a flash of her narrowed eyes. ‘Incidentally, I’ll sleep with who the hell I like!’ she yelled, sweeping from the room.
Her dramatic exit was ruined by the fact she narrowly avoided colliding with the solid bulk of Reece Erskine on her way out.
‘Whoa there.’ She’d have fallen rather than accept the arm he tried to offer her; it wasn’t easy, as he was carrying a large wicker hamper balanced on the crook of his functioning elbow, and his solicitous action almost sent it to the floor.
‘What are you doing here?’ The tense, scratchy thing didn’t sound like her voice at all. Making a superhuman effort, she pulled herself together and stepped back away from his chest—and the temptation to lay her head on it. Even holding her breath, she could still smell the fresh male fragrance that emanated from his warm skin, so she gave up on what was not really a practical long-term solution to her problem to begin with.
‘That’s no way to greet a guy carrying gifts, Darce.’
Darcy hadn’t even noticed the twins and Jack, who had entered the kitchen behind Reece—when he was around she didn’t tend to notice much else.
‘Cool!’ Harry cried, holding up a large box of Belgian chocolates and adding them to the pile of luxury items he and his twin were extracting from the hamper they’d set down on the table.
Darcy glanced at the growing pile—there was no way he’d got that little lot from the village shop.
‘This is mine,’ Charlie crowed, discovering a bottle of champagne.
Clicking his tongue tolerantly, his father removed the bottle from his crestfallen son’s hand. ‘This is really very generous of you, Reece…’
‘A small thank-you for everything you’ve done for me.’
‘It really wasn’t necessary,’ Jack insisted.
‘Dad, you’re not going to give it back, are you?’ Charlie asked in alarm.
‘How did we raise two such avaricious little monsters…?’ The twins exchanged rueful grins. ‘What the boys are trying to say, Reece, is the gift is much appreciated. Can we offer you a drink—it looks like there’s one on the go… Darcy…?’
‘In case nobody noticed, I’m busy,’ she responded shortly.
If her stepfather had looked annoyed by her unneighbourly response she could have coped, but no, he had to go and look hurt and guilty.
‘I suppose,’ he responded worriedly, ‘we have let a lot of things fall on your shoulders.’ He turned to Reece. ‘It’s just my wife usually…’
‘I enjoy it, Dad,’ Darcy interrupted hurriedly, hating the forlorn expression on her stepfather’s face and despising herself for putting it there. ‘Actually, I was just off to pick up the tree. Anyone like to come?’ she enquired. She was predictably underwhelmed by the response. ‘Right, I’ll be off, then.’
‘If you don’t mind, I wouldn’t mind coming along for the ride.’
Darcy spun around, horror etched on her pale features. ‘You!’
‘I’m getting a bit stir-crazy, unable to drive,’ Reece explained glibly to the room in general.
‘You’d be bored,’ she said several shades too emphatically.
‘I think it’s an excellent idea,’ Jack responded firmly, reproach in his eyes.
Nick spoke for the first time. ‘I’m sure Darcy will enjoy having company.’
Darcy shot her treacherous narrow-minded brother a seething look from under the sweep of her lashes. ‘There will be lashings of mud.’ Nobody paid her any heed.
‘Borrow some Wellingtons—the twins look about the same size as you.’
With a sigh Darcy subsided into a resentful silence whilst her eager family—with the notable exception of Nick—equipped their neighbour.
