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‘That old!’
Now he was laughing at her openly. But it was in a nice way, a way that invited her to join in.
With a smile, she said, ‘I suppose in a few more years being told I look about sixteen will seem like a compliment.’
Then, keen to remove the spotlight from herself and wondering what he’d been doing at Cartel Wines, she changed the subject by remarking, ‘You’re not employed by Cartel?’
‘No.’
‘I didn’t think so. But I wouldn’t have put you down as a visitor. Or certainly not an ordinary one.’
‘Is that a complaint or a compliment?’
‘A comment. Ordinary visitors use the front car park and the main entrance and always leave before the staff.’
‘Well, as I did none of those things, I plead guilty to being out of the ordinary…’
It occurred to her that she still didn’t know why he’d been at Cartel Wines, but, before she could pursue the matter, he remarked, ‘Incidentally, I caught sight of you earlier in the day…’
So he’d recognised her.
‘Yes, I’d slipped out to buy some lunch.’
To give her no chance to ask the question that he wasn’t yet ready to answer, he went on, ‘I fear it came to a sad end. Did you manage to replace it?’
‘No.’
‘You must be ravenous. But we’ll soon be home and Gwen’s sure to have dinner waiting.’
Wondering how the housekeeper would cope when he turned up with an unexpected guest, Tina began, ‘I’m afraid it—’
‘Don’t worry,’ he broke in, ‘there’ll be no problem.’ Then, deciding to stick with a safe topic, at least for the moment, he went on, ‘As a young woman, Gwen had a family of six boys to feed, so she’s always been used to cooking for what seems like an army. She still does.
‘Her church runs a centre for the homeless and each evening she fills her car boot with food and takes it round there.’
He had just finished telling her about his housekeeper’s charitable activities when they reached Pemberley Square and drew up outside a handsome porticoed town house.
It was still raining hard and he retrieved Tina’s case before escorting her across the leaf-strewn pavement and into a chandelier-hung hall.
As he closed the door behind them, a small, thin, neatly dressed woman appeared.
‘Ah, Gwen,’ he said, ‘we have an unexpected guest.’ He introduced the two women, adding, ‘Miss Dunbar was with Cartel Wines.’
The housekeeper smiled and said, ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Dunbar.’
Smiling back, Tina said a little anxiously, ‘I hope I’m not causing you a lot of trouble, Mrs Baxter?’
‘Not at all. The guest room is always kept ready. Now, if you’d like to freshen up before dinner…?’
‘If there’s time?’
‘Plenty of time,’ the housekeeper announced comfortably. ‘Luckily I’d decided on a casserole, which will keep hot without spoiling.’
‘In that case,’ Richard said, ‘I’ll check my emails and when Miss Dunbar comes down we’ll have a quick pre-dinner drink in the study.’
With a glance at his watch, he added, ‘But, so your regulars won’t have to wait too long for their supper, I suggest you leave ours on the hotplate and we’ll serve ourselves…’
Mrs Baxter nodded gratefully, then said, ‘Oh, there’s one more thing…Miss O’Connell has been trying to get hold of you. She said your mobile has been switched off all day. She seemed extremely upset about it…’
Reading his housekeeper’s tight-lipped expression correctly, Richard hazarded, ‘So Helen’s been giving you a hard time? Sorry about that.’
Her face softening, Mrs Baxter said, ‘The young lady would like you to give her a ring.’
‘I’ll do that. Thanks, Gwen.’
Taking Tina’s case, the housekeeper led the way up a long, curved staircase and across a balustraded landing, remarking as they went, ‘Mr Anders is always kind and thoughtful. They don’t come any better.’
Doing her best not to hobble, though her ankle was, if anything, worse, Tina asked, ‘How long have you worked for him?’
‘Just over six years and in all that time I’ve never known him be anything other than even-tempered and pleasant.’
‘That’s praise indeed.’
‘And well earned. He’s one of the most generous people I know.
‘In the two years that it’s been in existence the centre that I help to run must have saved quite a few lives, especially in the winter.
‘They have him to thank. Not only did he buy a big warehouse and have it converted into comfortable living quarters, but he pays all the running expenses out of his own pocket and provides money for food and other necessities.
‘He’s even managed to save a few of the poor souls who come there…Oh, not by preaching to them, but by trusting them and giving them a decent job…’
Tina was about to ask what kind of business he was in when she was ushered into a large pastel-walled bedroom that overlooked the rain-lashed lamplit square, with its central garden and mature trees.
Having deposited the case on a low chest, the housekeeper closed the curtains, remarking, ‘It looks like a nasty wet, chilly night, so I’d best get off and make sure that everyone’s taken care of.’
Her hand was on the latch when she turned to say, ‘Oh, when you come down again, the study is straight across the hall.’
The guest room was pleasant and airy, with a pale deeppile carpet, modern furniture, a large, comfortable-looking bed and walk-in wardrobes, while the en suite bathroom was frankly luxurious.
Feeling grubby and dishevelled, Tina decided to take a quick shower.
While she enjoyed the flow of hot water over her bare skin she thought about Richard Anders.
Any remaining doubts about what kind of man he was had been set at rest by Mrs Baxter’s unstinting praise and she could only be thankful that she had accepted his hospitality rather than turning it down.
Refreshed, she towelled herself dry, quickly found some clean underwear and swopped her suit for a fine wool button-through dress in oatmeal.
Her ankle was distinctly swollen now so, instead of changing into high-heeled sandals, she stayed with her flat shoes.
When she had put on a discreet touch of make-up and brushed and re-coiled her dark blonde hair, she made her way carefully down the stairs.
She felt eager and excited, if a touch nervous, at the prospect of spending the evening alone with Richard Anders and getting to know him better.
For perhaps the first time in her life she found herself wishing that she was clever, beautiful, exciting, alluring—whatever it took to arouse and hold his interest.
But of course she wasn’t. She was just an ordinary girl, unable even to keep the interest of a man like Kevin who, though undeniably tall and handsome, hadn’t been in the same class as Richard Anders for looks and presence.
But perhaps it was wealth that had given him his presence, his force of personality?
No, she was oddly convinced that it wasn’t so. If he’d been a poor man he would still have had those assets and, with them, he wouldn’t have remained a poor man for long.
Arriving at the study door, after a momentary hesitation, she tapped and walked in.
It was a pleasant book-lined room with a rich burgundy carpet and matching velvet curtains. An Adam fireplace and an ornate plaster ceiling with flowers and cherubs added to its beauty.
The lighting was low and intimate and a log fire blazed cheerfully in the grate. A small table and a couple of soft leather armchairs had been placed in front of the fire.
Richard, who had been standing by the hearth, advanced to meet her. He looked coolly elegant and just the sight of him made her heart lurch wildly.
He too had made time to shower and change. Instead of the business suit and tie he’d been wearing, he was dressed in smart casuals. His thick dark hair was brushed back from his high forehead and his jaw was clean-shaven.
‘So there you are. Come and make yourself at home.’
A hand at her waist—just that impersonal touch made her go all of a dither—he ushered her to the nearest chair.
Trying to look cool and composed, she sank into it.
His glance taking in the touch of make-up, he smiled at her and said teasingly, ‘My, now you look all of eighteen.’
That white smile, with its unstudied charm, rocked her afresh and made her feel as though her very bones were as pliable as warm candle wax.
‘I’d just started to wonder if you knew which was the study,’ he went on, ‘or if you were wandering around, lost.’
‘No, I knew. Mrs Baxter told me.’ She was aware that she sounded more than a little breathless.
Indicating a drinks trolley, he queried, ‘What’s it to be?’
Bearing in mind that she’d had nothing to eat since breakfast, she plumped for orange juice.
While he added crushed ice to the glass and poured the freshly squeezed juice, she watched him from beneath long lashes.
In dark well-cut trousers and a black polo-neck sweater, he looked even more handsome and attractive and, in spite of all her efforts, her heart began to pick up speed.
He glanced up and, unwilling to be caught staring, she looked hastily away.
A moment or two later he was by her side. Handing her a tall, narrow, frosted glass, he said, ‘Here you are.’
While she sipped, he leaned against the mantel, a whisky and soda in his hand, firelight flickering on his face, and studied her appraisingly.
He would have expected the sort of life she’d been leading to have left its mark, but at close quarters she looked clear-eyed and healthy and altogether too untouched to be the kind of woman he knew her to be.
He’d known from the start that she was blonde and blue-eyed, had even seen photographs of her, which had convinced him that she was attractive.
But the first time he had seen her in the flesh coming out of De Vere’s office he had realised that the photographs didn’t do her justice.
She was beautiful.
Now, taking in the long-lashed blue-violet eyes that slanted slightly upwards at the outer corners, the lovely silky hair the colour of corn-syrup—and natural too, he’d bet—winged brows and high cheekbones, the straight nose and the mouth that his own suddenly felt the urge to kiss, he revised his earlier opinion.
She was more than merely beautiful.
Much more.
She was bewitching, haunting, a fascinating contradiction. Despite that passionate mouth, she had an air of innocence, of vulnerability that, however false, had got under his skin the instant he saw her. And that could be dangerous.
He shrugged off the thought.
Being attracted to her was all very well so long as he kept in mind what his goal was and didn’t allow that attraction to affect his judgement.
Over the past few weeks he had considered several courses of action. But, thinking it would be easier to judge when he knew her better, he had been waiting to decide exactly how to play it, which would be his best option.
In the end, however, things had moved so fast that he’d had no time for a leisurely appraisal.
Still, most of his plans were in place, even his final contingency plan. Which, because of the time element, he was now going to have to go with.
If he could bring it off.
There was no if about it. He had to bring it off.
But, having seen her at close quarters, he knew that taking her to bed would be no hardship. In fact the mere prospect made his blood quicken.
Of course, if he could get her emotionally involved, make her fall in love with him, it would ease his task enormously.
Experience told him that she was already attracted to him, though oddly enough she wasn’t giving out the kind of overt signals he would have expected from a woman like her.
He knew from the reports he’d received that she was, to put it mildly, a child of her times and, despite her air of naivety, he found it almost impossible to believe that she had any scruples or inhibitions.
But, as time was short and he was unwilling to take any chances, it would do no harm to make certain that if she had, they were well and truly banished…
Tina glanced up and, thrown by the expression of almost savage intensity and purpose on his face, asked jerkily, ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Wrong? Of course not.’
His voice sounded quite normal and the expression that had startled her was gone as if it had never been. Realising it must have been a trick of the firelight, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Straightening, he asked easily, ‘Another drink?’
‘Please.’
