‘I tell you what...’ Rising to her feet, Kit had a sudden brainwave. ‘Why don’t I make us a pot of coffee and I’ll cut you a slice of home-made fruitcake to go with it? I know you didn’t feel much like eating your dinner, but that could be dessert.’
‘We’ve got home-made fruitcake?’ His previously glum expression was transformed by the most beguiling boyish grin she had ever seen.
Crossing her arms over her mint-green sweater, she couldn’t help smiling back. ‘I brought it with me from home. I made it last night. When I rang the agency to confirm that I’d got the job the manager told me that it was one of your favourites.’
‘Sam probably tipped her off. She knows I’ve a real weakness for cake...particularly fruitcake.’
‘Well, then, why don’t you just sit and relax and I’ll go and get you some?’
‘Don’t forget the coffee.’
‘I won’t.’
* * *
As Hal lingered over his coffee Kit disappeared into the kitchen to stack the dishwasher. With a contented sigh he stretched out his long legs on the couch and winced as familiar intermittent pain shot down his calf. For once he didn’t allow it to destroy his equilibrium. In truth, he regretted not making a better effort with the aromatic pasta Kit had cooked, but he’d immensely enjoyed the fruitcake she’d made. It was probably one of the best cakes he’d ever eaten. One thing was certain: if that was an example of her attention to detail on behalf of the people she worked for then she couldn’t be faulted.
Utilising the remote device by his side, Hal turned up the volume on the soothing music he was listening to. If he could just learn to curtail the impatience and restlessness that had plagued him since the accident had immobilised him then perhaps he could start to enjoy the enforced rest that he was faced with? It had literally been years since he’d had some proper respite. Most days he lived his life as though he were in a race to get to the finish line first.
In a bid to divert the less than comfortable realisation, he returned his thoughts to Kit. There was something about the feisty redhead’s presence that was undeniably reassuring. What had helped her become so capable and pragmatic? He was curious to know. Maybe over the next few days he would try to draw her out and get to know her a little? The women in his life had always bemoaned the fact that Hal didn’t give them enough of his time and attention—be they the girlfriends he’d had or his sister Sam—because he was inevitably obsessed with work and also the high-octane sports activities he favoured. If he made it a bit of a project to find out more about Kit’s background by conversing with her and really listening to what she had to say then it might help him learn how to improve his relationships with women in the future. At any rate, it was worth a try. Seeing as though all his usual distractions were denied him because of his injury, why not just embrace what was available instead?
Another knifing pain shot through his leg, but it was mostly concentrated on the muscles in his knee that had been damaged. Just as he reached down to massage it the door opened and Kit returned. As if intuiting he was in some discomfort, she came straight over to him with a concerned frown.
‘I think I should get you some ice for that knee. But first let me put some pillows underneath you to elevate it. If we do that every day then it will help reduce the swelling.’
‘You’re the boss,’ Hal quipped ruefully.
‘It’s good to know you don’t have a problem with a woman being in charge.’
‘This is a one time and one time only deal. My tolerance and acceptance will only stretch so far. Once I’m back on my feet again you’d be unwise to push any advantage you’d gained while I was laid up.’
Raising her brows, Kit responded smartly, ‘When you’re back on your feet again you’ll no longer need my services, so such a possibility won’t even arise. I’ll be looking after another client...hopefully one a little less egotistical than you. Now, I’ll just go and get a couple of pillows to elevate that knee.’
Any response he might normally have made to such an unflattering observation worryingly deserted Hal. The idea that Kit was already eagerly contemplating a new client—one ‘a little less egotistical’ than he was—seriously bothered him. And neither did he welcome the sense of vulnerability it left him with. Weakness of any kind didn’t sit well with him.
As she exited the room to fetch the pillows he breathed out a disgruntled sigh. But when she returned carrying them, and leaned towards him to carry out the necessary manoeuvre, he immediately noted that her smooth alabaster cheeks had a faintly scarlet tint to them. How interesting, he thought. Perhaps it wasn’t just his egotistical nature that ruffled this coolly efficient redhead?
‘Lift up,’ she instructed, her bright blue eyes skimming his features with the merest brief glance.
Raising himself in order that she could slide the pillows beneath him, Hal wasn’t about to let the fact go unremarked...
‘You’re blushing, Ms Blessington. Does it disturb you to get this close to your client? Because if it does I don’t know how you’re going to manage when you help me into my bath later,’ he taunted.
Carefully assisting him to lower his legs down onto the pillows, Kit met his amused glance with a similarly mocking one.
‘If you think it’s going to make me squirm with embarrassment seeing an injured man in his birthday suit then I hate to disappoint you, Mr Treverne. Trust me—I’ve seen it all before!’
For the second time in a few short minutes Hal found himself worryingly bereft of an apt rejoinder and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit!
CHAPTER FOUR
THE LUXURIOUS BATHROOM adjacent to Hal’s equally opulent bedroom had a vast sunken bath and shower and a gleaming marble floor with a striking snakeskin finish. If Kit hadn’t known it to be true already, it screamed out that its owner was undoubtedly male, seriously charismatic and frighteningly rich. And so far her new employer was proving to be the most challenging one she’d ever worked for...
Dropping down onto a seriously comfy-looking chair, Hal handed over his crutches to her without preamble. It was nearly eleven o’clock at night and Kit knew that he was still tired, still hurting, and cranky because of it. Trying not to pay too much attention to the unhappy expression on his handsome face, she stood the crutches against the wall, leant down to the bath and turned on the taps.
As the water gushed out into the tub she glanced over her shoulder and asked, ‘What kind of temperature do you like?’
‘What?’
He was staring at her as though in a trance. Straightening, she crossed her arms over her chest, feeling as though she were suddenly being examined under the searching glare of an intense spotlight. It was hard to string a single coherent thought together when her heart felt as though she was careening downhill at breakneck speed because it beat so fast.
‘I asked what kind of temperature you wanted?’
‘Hot.’
Such a simple, commonplace word shouldn’t sound so...so provocative. But it did. And it didn’t help her case that she remembered telling Hal that she was hardly fazed by seeing a man’s naked body and had ‘seen it all before’. She didn’t doubt he thought she must be referring to her intimate experiences. Perhaps he thought she’d had several? The truth was she’d had just one briefly intimate liaison and that had turned out to be an unmitigated disaster. She’d been stupidly bluffing when she’d made her comment, so that he wouldn’t think he had the upper hand. And she’d called him egotistical!
‘Okay,’ she said.
‘I’ll need you to help me get in the water—also to put the waterproof cast protector on.’
‘Of