Hired for the Boss's Bedroom. Cathy Williams. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Cathy Williams
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Modern
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408912898
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enough, there she was, peering through the window of the shoe shop, and he took a little time to look at her. The strange gypsy-skirt of the night before had been replaced by something equally shapeless, but it was a hot day and her tee shirt outlined the contours of breasts that would be more than a handful. What would they look like? What would she feel like?

      That sudden thought seemed to spring from nowhere and Leo shoved it aside, disconcerted.

      The woman was most definitely not his type. After his short-lived and disastrous marriage to Sophia, he had exorcised pretty little airheads from his repertoire of beddable women, and he hadn’t looked back.

      Although…

      The girl next door wasn’t exactly quite the airhead he had assumed. Nor was she exactly pretty, although he supposed that there were a fair few men who might look twice at her, with her unruly gold hair and her lush curves.

      She turned to find him staring, and he watched that telltale colour bloom into her cheeks.

      ‘They’ll be a little while,’ Leo said. ‘I told them to take their time.’

      Heather fell into step with him. Without the presence of Daniel and Katherine, she was suddenly conscious of how intimidating she found him. Even when he was at his most casual, as he was now, in a pair of faded jeans and a white polo-shirt that emphasised his olive complexion.

      Five minutes later, which was about long enough for Heather to really feel her nerves go into over drive, they were at the restaurant. It was tucked away up one of the smaller streets in the trendy part of the little town, with wine bars and little boutiques that specialised in selling designer clothes and designer kitchenware. Tables were laid outside, but Leo ignored them, choosing to stroll into the restaurant and net them the quietest table at the very back.

      ‘So,’ he said, relaxing his long body into the chair and giving her the benefit of all his undivided attention. ‘You never explained your in-depth knowledge of the business markets. And I have to admit I’m curious. Were you a banker before you decided to throw it all aside and devote your life to painting little fairies?’

      ‘I don’t paint little fairies. I illustrate children’s books,’ Heather said mutinously. ‘And I don’t like the way you’ve manoeuvred me into being here alone with you.’

      ‘Why? You have a suspicious mind. What do you think I’m going to get up to?’

      ‘You have no right to question me about my private life.’

      ‘Of course I have. Until yesterday, I didn’t even know you existed. Now I’m to assume that you’ve become an integral part of my family.’

      ‘I’m not an integral part of your family,’ Heather protested. She looked at Leo’s dark, clever, shockingly good-looking face with dislike. He was like a shark, patrolling his waters and ready to pounce on anything that might possibly be construed as prey. In this case, her. Wasn’t it enough that she was helping him out? Obviously not.

      Leo ignored that interruption. Without bothering to glance around, he summoned a waiter, who appeared as if by magic even though the restaurant was busy, and he ordered some wine, his eyes still focused on Heather’s face.

      ‘You’ve known my mother for a year or two, my son for considerably less time, and yet here you are—a vital part of this weekend’s activities because you’ve managed to ingratiate yourself. Furthermore, you dabble in pretty little pictures yet seem to have an astute business mind, and I know when someone’s lifting other people’s opinions from the business section of a tabloid newspaper. You appear to have some kind of inside knowledge about how stock markets operate. A little unusual for someone who paints fairies, wouldn’t you say?’

      With a few bits and pieces of information, he had somehow managed to make her sound like a secret-service agent.

      ‘I don’t know where you’re going with this.’

      ‘Put it this way,’ he drawled, taking his time to taste some of the wine that had been brought to their table and keeping those fabulous grey eyes fixed on her. ‘In my position, it’s always a good idea to be wary of anyone who doesn’t fit their brief.’

      ‘And I guess,’ she said acidly, ‘that my brief is the unattractive country girl without a brain cell in her head?’

      ‘Do you think of yourself as unattractive?’ Leo pounced on that small, unthinking slip of the tongue, and she flushed with embarrassment.

      She could have told him that she never used to. Sure, she had always known that she didn’t have the stick-insect glamour of some of the girls she had grown up with, but she had never had an inferiority complex about her looks. Not until she had moved to London with Brian.

      However, the last thing Heather intended to do was bare her soul to the man sitting opposite her.

      ‘Do you think I’m after…what? Your mother’s money—do you think I might try to con her out of her fortune?’

      ‘Stranger things have been known to happen.’ He really couldn’t credit that, though. If the woman had a taste for high living, then she was doing a good job of keeping it under wraps. So far he had yet to see her in something that didn’t look as though its last home was a charity shop.

      Heather didn’t say anything. She could have scoffed at his cynicism, but she understood it. Brian had gone from the good-looking boy who had stolen her heart with his floppy blonde hair and sweats to a cold-eyed stranger in expensive clothes. He had made his money and, as the money had rolled in, so too had the gold diggers, the people who’d always been there, wanting something from him.

      She sighed and tried to appreciate his suspicions even though they were directed at her.

      ‘I guess so,’ she said with a shrug. ‘But not in this case. I think your mother’s a really sweet lady. We share a passion for plants and flowers, that’s all.’

      ‘Is there no one else on whom you could lavish your passion?’ Leo asked lazily. ‘For all things…horticultural?’

      For a second there Heather could feel her skin prickling at what she had imagined he was asking her.

      ‘We get along, and I met Daniel quite by accident. He was exploring the fields; I guess he must have been lonely.’ This was the perfect time to turn the tables and do a little accusing of her own, but his presence was stifling, clogging up her brain, turning it to mush. ‘Anyway, I think he got lost. I asked him a few questions and he must have felt at ease because he came visiting again; I enjoy having him around.’

      ‘I guess you might,’ Leo mused thoughtfully. ‘You must get very lonely in that cottage of yours. Working from home is an isolated way of earning an income. I’m surprised someone as young as you is content to stay indoors all day. Don’t you crave to see what life in the fast lane is all about?’

      ‘No. I don’t.’ She lowered her eyes.

      ‘Really?’ What was she hiding? Leo thought. And didn’t she know that trying to keep secrets from a man was the one sure-fire way to fuel his curiosity? His curiosity was certainly on the move now…and he was beginning to enjoy the novelty. In fact, the weekend which had started on such an unfortunate note was definitely beginning to look up. Daniel had cracked one of those rare smiles of his, and even his mother seemed a little more relaxed than she normally did. The day so far had meandered in a more casual fashion than usual, and he had spent no time in front of his computer downloading his emails or generally continuing with business. It was proving to be all the more satisfying by the sudden challenge of ferreting out whatever Heather was keeping from him.

      ‘You never answered my question,’ he said, changing the subject so abruptly that she raised her startled blue gaze to him. ‘The one about your banking knowledge. And here’s another thing…’ Leo leaned forward, noticing the way she flinched back warily a couple of inches in her chair. ‘Last night you said that men like me take it for granted that women will want to spend time with them. What did you mean by that?’