Читать книгу His Defiant Mistress: The Millionaire's Rebellious Mistress / The Venetian's Midnight Mistress / The Billionaire's Virgin Mistress - Кэрол Мортимер, CATHERINE GEORGE - Страница 8

SARAH BACKED away in such knee-jerk rejection Alex glared at her, incensed.

‘For God’s sake, I’m not in the habit of hitting women!’ He controlled himself with obvious effort. ‘My sole aim was to make sure you came to no harm, alone in one of those cottages. If you’d had the courtesy to let me know what you’d arranged all this nonsense could have been avoided.’

She took in a deep breath. ‘I suppose you feel I made a fool of you?’

‘Not at all. I made a fool of myself,’ he said bitterly, and turned to go.

‘Have some coffee first,’ she offered, surprising herself as much as Alex. ‘You look a bit shaken.’

‘Is it any wonder?’ he demanded morosely. ‘I’ve never thought of myself as a coward—dammit, I love dogs. But that one scared the hell out of me.’

She felt an unexpected pang of remorse. ‘Please have some coffee. Sit there for a minute and relax while I make it.’

When she got back with a couple of mugs Alex was looking round the room, frowning.

‘It seems emptier in here tonight.’

‘I took a few things down to the cottage for Ian. He provided his own bedroll, plus a couple of garden chairs and a television.’ She smiled demurely as she sat on the windowseat with her mug. ‘On future evenings his girlfriend Josie will be keeping him company, but tonight she was at her kickboxing class.’

‘Kickboxing?’ Alex stared at her in horror. ‘Then thank God I missed her, if she’s as big as the boyfriend.’

‘I don’t know. I hope not.’

‘Frightening thought,’ he agreed, and drank deeply. ‘This is wonderful coffee. Thank you.’

‘The least I could do. Though a shot of caffeine is probably the last thing you need right now.’

‘It hits the spot just the same.’ He yawned suddenly. ‘Sorry. I don’t suppose I could have a refill?’

Sarah eyed him doubtfully. ‘Is that wise?’

‘Probably not.’ He heaved himself up, but she waved him back and took his mug.

When she returned with the coffee Alex gave her a speculative look. ‘This is a very attractive flat, but it’s obviously the home of a single woman.’ His eyes followed her as she crossed to her windowseat. ‘That must surely be from choice?’

Her chin lifted. ‘It is.’

‘And you obviously think it’s none of my business! Though I already know you don’t lack for male admirers, Miss Carver,’ he added wryly. ‘The day I came looking for you it was like trying to detach Snow White from the Seven Dwarfs—only you’re the small one. Those pals of yours may be getting on a bit, but they’re a hefty bunch.’

Sarah unbent a little. ‘I’m a constant source of entertainment to them. In the beginning they were thunderstruck, because I was doing some of the work myself. They kept popping round to check up on the city girl.’

Alex laughed, his eyes dancing in a way which put her on her guard. This man was dangerous.

‘I suppose they think it’s an unsuitable job for a woman?’ Alex commented. ‘How did you get into it?’

‘My father was a building contractor. I was brought up on building sites, so I’m doing what I like best and hopefully making a living out of it.’

‘With no distractions allowed.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Once you put me right about your relationship with Oliver Moore, I wondered if you’d shut yourself away in your ivory tower here to mend a broken heart.’

Sarah gave him a scornful look. ‘Even if I had it would be none of your business, Mr Merrick.’

But damned interesting, thought Alex, wondering just what there was about this girl that got under his skin. Right now her narrow face was scrubbed and shiny, her hair—the colour of bitter chocolate instead of the blonde he normally preferred—was a tangle of unruly curls. And her pink dressing gown was elderly and faded, and a shade too small, even for someone of her size, which probably meant she’d had it for years but couldn’t bear to part with it.

Sarah decided to give him a hint by relieving him of his coffee cup, and he promptly stood up.

‘Time I was leaving.’

‘I’m sorry about your near-death experience with Nero,’ said Sarah, on her way to the door. Though she wasn’t in the slightest.

He paused, giving her the crooked smile she was surprised to find she was beginning to find attractive, whether he practised it or not. ‘You may laugh, but it wasn’t at all funny at the time.’

‘No, indeed. And you ruined your suit—or Nero did.’

‘No point in sending him a bill, either. Nor,’ he added quickly, ‘will I send one to you, Miss Carver. I shall write tonight off to experience. Thanks for the coffee.’

‘The least I could do after you’d risked life and limb to make sure I was safe,’ she assured him, and eyed him curiously. ‘But why did you feel you had to?’

‘Because I want the cottages. I had to make sure they wouldn’t be vandalised,’ he lied.

‘I see. By the way, did Nero actually hurt you?’

Alex shook his head and raised a muscular leg to show her an unmarked shin through the rip. ‘I had a fight to detach him from my bespoke suiting, but he stopped short of actually savaging me.’

‘So no worry about rabies, then?’

He blenched. ‘Good God! I hadn’t thought of that.’

She eyed him with derision. ‘You’re in no danger from an aristocrat like Nero.’

‘Just the same,’ he said with feeling, ‘I’ll give your property a wide berth from now on—at night, at least.’

‘Very wise.’ She opened the door, but Alex seemed in no hurry to leave.

‘How about changing your mind?’ he asked casually.

‘About what, exactly?’

‘Having dinner with me one evening. We could just talk business, if that would make the idea more attractive.’ He listened to himself in disbelief. This kind of persuasion wasn’t his style. Probably because he’d never had to use any.

‘No—thank you,’ she said distantly.

His jaw clenched. ‘Why not? Do you find me repulsive?’

‘No.’

‘Then have you sworn off men as some kind of vow?’

Instead of saying Just you, Alex Merrick, as she yearned to, Sarah shook her head. ‘I’m just not socialising with anyone right now.’

‘Except Oliver Moore,’ he reminded her.

‘That’s right.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘After all, he is my godfather.’

‘So you said.’ Alex moved closer, struck by sudden compassion. ‘Are you still in mourning for your father? Surely he would want you to get on with your life?’

Sarah’s smile vanished. ‘As I keep pointing out, my life is my concern, and no one else’s, Mr Merrick.’

‘Message received,’ he said stiffly. ‘Goodnight, Miss Carver.’

Sarah felt very thoughtful as she climbed back up to bed later. If she were honest, and she tried hard to be most of the time, she knew she should have told Greg Harris that she’d arranged a night watchman for the cottages. But Alex’s highhanded message had really ticked her off. Though he’d certainly paid for it. Sarah grinned at the thought of the vice-chairman of the Merrick Group fighting off a large German Shepherd.

But what had actually sent Alex storming round here afterwards? He’d been so blazingly angry when she’d opened the door to him Sarah had felt a thrill of apprehension, afraid for a split second that he’d throw her on the floor and take his revenge in the time-honoured way. He’d certainly been hot to vent his rage in some way on the person responsible for his clash with Nero. But she hadn’t known he’d check up on her himself—had she? Sarah thought about it, and reluctantly admitted that she’d been aware of the possibility. Visiting the cottages to make sure she was safe had been a chivalrous gesture, and maybe—just maybe—she’d hoped that he would do it. But she would have expected Nero just to bark, not launch himself at Alex in attack mode. She would have a word with Ian on the subject. Injury to innocent visitors was something to be avoided. But, chivalrous or not, she reminded herself tartly, Alex’s name was still Merrick. And her reaction to it was still the same as the first time she’d heard it.

On her very first day at Barclay Homes she’d found that the firm was actually a subsidiary of the Merrick Group, which had swallowed up other building firms in the area. A small outfit like her father’s had never stood a chance. Sarah knew with the logical part of her that the Merrick Group had not caused his death. But the illogical, emotional side of her still held them accountable.