‘Spain?’ Like her, he seemed to have come from somewhere deep inside himself. ‘Oh, your holiday.’ Then, ‘On your own?’
She didn’t think he’d have asked that question before and, while it would probably be wiser to just pick up her mug, say goodnight and retreat to the safety of her room, she’d be missing an opportunity to get to know him a little better.
For Maisie’s sake, obviously.
So she sipped her tea, because her mouth seemed rather dry, and said, ‘Does it matter?’
‘If you were going with your boyfriend I’d imagine he’d be pretty fed up.’
‘If I’d been going with a boyfriend, believe me, I’d be pretty fed up, but you needn’t worry about some irate male turning up on your doorstep to add to the mayhem.’
He didn’t look especially relieved, but then an irate male would probably have suited him very well. He was assuming he’d have an ally. She didn’t bother to explain that what he’d have would be one more house guest while they sorted out the Maisie situation.
‘At least there are plenty of flights to Spain.’ Harry Talbot seemed determined to keep her focused on what was important in life. ‘You’ll only have missed a day.’
Well, she hadn’t really thought he was interested in her well-being, had she? It was like the car. Getting it fixed was not thoughtfulness. Getting it fixed meant she had no excuse to stay.
‘It’s not that simple, I’m afraid. It was a cut-price last minute deal. If you don’t show, tough luck.’
‘You can’t reschedule?’
What planet was he on?
‘Don’t bother your head about it. The agency will sort that out with your cousin. They’ve promised I won’t be out of pocket.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, but you won’t get the money back for a couple of weeks, will you?’
She shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m just doing temporary work at the moment so I can schedule my break to suit myself.’ And she could think anywhere, after all. The sun would just be a distraction.
‘That doesn’t seem fair. If it would help I’ll cover your losses and sort it out with Sally later.’
‘Good grief, you are desperate to get rid of me.’ A woman with self-esteem issues might have crumpled at this point, but she pulled a face in an attempt to suggest she found his persistence amusing. ‘Paying to have my car fixed and now offering to sub me for a holiday.’
‘I’m just doing my best to be reasonable.’
Reasonable!
Reasonable would be him saying—I’m sorry you’ve been put to so much trouble. Just make yourself at home while my useless family sorts itself out…
Or words to that effect.
‘You really don’t get it, do you?’
‘Get what?’
She sipped her tea, then risked a glance at him over the rim of the mug. He looked, she thought, not so much uncaring as, well, a bit desperate, but she firmly quashed any feeling of guilt. She had done nothing to feel guilty about. He was the one behaving like a jerk.
‘You must see that I can’t go anywhere until I’m sure that Maisie is settled and safe.’
‘Then I’ve got another suggestion, Miss Moore. Go to Spain and take Maisie with you.’ He waited and, when he didn’t get the ecstatic response he’d no doubt counted on, added, ‘That way you’ll get paid by the hour for lying in the sun.’
She laughed. ‘You obviously have a very limited idea of what looking after a child entails.’
‘I’ll even pay for an upgrade.’
‘I’m truly sorry,’ she said. It was possible that she didn’t sound entirely sincere, but then she wasn’t. Despite what Maisie had told her, the man kept suckering her into thinking that he deserved some consideration. He deserved absolutely nothing. ‘Appealing as your offer sounds, there are two very good reasons why I can’t accept. One, I’d need her legal guardian’s written permission before I took Maisie out of the country—something that I’m sure even you’d agree is a basic essential. It’s not as if you know a single thing about me.’ And because, suddenly, she was really angry with him for being so completely lacking in family feeling, so irresponsible, she said, ‘Have you any idea how much cute little girls fetch on the illegal-adoption market?’
‘I have a rather better idea of the cost than you, I imagine.’ Then, while she was still trying to get her head around that one, ‘And because I’m not as stupid as you appear to believe, I called your agency this afternoon and the charming Mrs Campbell emailed me your CV along with all manner of glowing testimonials.’
‘She did?’
‘Why did you drop out of university in the middle of your second year?’
‘She did.’
She left it at that. He didn’t want an answer to his question; it had simply been a power play, a demonstration that he did indeed know all about her. While she knew next to nothing about him. And what she did know was all bad.
She wasn’t having a very good day.
Little Princess, 2—Giant, 1…
‘So,’ he continued, ‘now we’ve cleared up that small problem and, assuming that, using the wonders of modern technology, Sally faxes her written permission to your agency, what’s your second objection?’
Everything, she thought, comes to she who waits. Time for Dumb Nanny to break her duck.
‘Maisie wants to stay here,’ she said. ‘And my job—’ she decided this might not be a good moment to tell him that she wasn’t actually being paid for doing this ‘—is to keep her happy. Why don’t you phone your new friend, Mrs Campbell, and ask her if she’d be prepared to take a bet on me doing just that?’
Despite the warm glow that putting a dent in his plans gave her, she anticipated a negative reaction to this challenge and, judging that this might be a good moment to leave, wasted no time about it.
‘Goodnight, Mr Talbot,’ she said, heading for the door. ‘Sleep tight.’ Actually, the ‘sleep tight’ was probably a mistake and it was just as well that she was carrying a mug of hot tea or she might have been tempted to make a run for it.
Not cool.
She’d managed to get in the last word and now she was leaving him—with dignity—to chew on it.
But as she walked across what seemed like a mile of quarry-tiled floor between her and the door, for every self-conscious inch of it aware of his gaze locked on her back, she didn’t really expect to get away without some knife-edged parting shot.
‘It’s Harry,’ he said, just as she made the safety of the door. ‘Call me Harry.’ Which was totally unexpected and then, when he had her full attention, added, ‘I think we’ve traded sufficient insults to drop the formalities, don’t you?’
Now that she’d had a chance to assess some of his finer points, Jacqui had to admit that she was tempted. No doubt about it, cleaned up, the man was six feet four inches of raw temptation. With a decent haircut and the serious application of razor to chin, she suspected he’d be dynamite.
Such a pity that he didn’t have a heart to match his body.
‘Are you offering to surrender, Mr Talbot?’
His jaw tightened, momentarily, and she had the uneasy impression that she