Читать книгу Modern Romance March 2015 Collection 1 - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

‘IS MR STERNE a nice man, Mummy?’ Daisy asked quietly as the two of them sat in the back of the limousine sent by Darius Sterne to collect them.

Was Xander Sterne a nice man?

Sam had only met the man once, during the interview she’d had with both Sterne brothers two days ago, while Daisy was at school.

Consequently, the question was a little difficult for Sam to answer, when Xander had left most of the talking that day to his brother. He’d only contributed to the conversation towards the end, when he had barked half a dozen questions at her about her daughter’s schooling, and the amount of time Daisy would actually be spending at his apartment.

Making it clear to Sam that, while her new employer might be willing to tolerate her own presence in his home for the next two weeks, he wasn’t in the least keen on having her daughter in residence as well.

An attitude that Sam wasn’t particularly happy about.

But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

She hadn’t always been in such dire financial straits; her ex-husband, Malcolm, wasn’t anywhere near as wealthy as the Sterne brothers, but he was nevertheless a successful businessman who owned a mansion in London, plus a villa in the South of France and another in the Caribbean.

Sam had been twenty to Malcolm’s thirty-five, when the two of them had first met, she a lowly junior assistant and he the owner of the company. She had been instantly smitten with the suave and sophisticated, dark-haired and wealthy businessman, and apparently Malcolm had felt the same about her, so much so that within two months of meeting each other they had been married.

Sam had been starry-eyed and, to begin with, so much in love with her handsome and successful husband. Her parents had both died years ago, and she had been brought up in a series of foster homes. Her extended family was practically non-existent, with only a couple of distant maiden aunts whom she never saw.

However, Sam’s pregnancy had changed her marriage irrevocably.

She and Malcolm had never discussed having children—or rather, not having them in Malcolm’s case. It turned out that Malcolm didn’t want children cluttering up his life as she discovered only when she’d excitedly told him she was two months pregnant.

At the time Sam had convinced herself that it was just a knee-jerk response to the thought of becoming a father for the first time at the age of thirty-six. Malcolm couldn’t really have meant it when he suggested she terminate the pregnancy.

She had been wrong.

Their marriage had changed overnight, with Malcolm moving out of their bedroom, seemingly repulsed by the idea of Sam’s body undergoing a transformation as the pregnancy continued. Even then, however, Sam had naively hoped for the best, sure that her marriage couldn’t really be over after only a year, and that Malcolm would come around to the idea of fatherhood, either before or after the baby was born.

Again, she had been wrong.

Malcolm had remained in the spare bedroom, ignored her pregnancy totally, and he hadn’t so much as visited her once in the clinic after Daisy was born. He had even been absent from the house when she came home carrying Daisy proudly in her arms and took her up to the nursery she had spent so many hours lovingly decorating and preparing for her beautiful baby.

Sam had struggled on for another two years trying to make her marriage work, sure that Malcolm couldn’t continue to ignore his daughter’s existence for ever. How could he not fall in love with his adorable baby daughter?

Except he hadn’t.

At the end of that two years of struggle Sam had admitted defeat. Not only did she no longer love Malcolm, she wasn’t sure she even liked him. How could she like a man who refused to acknowledge his own wife and daughter?

The past three years certainly hadn’t been easy ones. Emotionally or financially.

Her emotions and how she dealt with them were Sam’s own problem, of course. But how could a billionaire like Xander Sterne possibly understand how she had to scrape the money together, basically by going without lunches all week herself, just to be able to pay for something so trivial as Daisy’s ballet lesson once a week? Something her daughter had talked of almost since she could walk and talk, and which Sam refused to disappoint her over.

Of course Malcolm, when Sam asked, had refused to contribute in the slightest to Daisy’s happiness, over and above the minimum childcare payment paid into Sam’s bank account once a month. An account set up in the name of Samantha Smith rather than her married name of Samantha Howard.

Her married name, along with the gifts and jewellery Malcolm had given her during their marriage, and any settlement she might have expected as Malcolm’s ex-wife, either in a lump sum or monthly payment, were all things Sam had been asked to give up in exchange for Malcolm agreeing to give her full custody of her beloved daughter. A price Sam had willingly paid. And would willingly pay again, if she had to.

Xander, a man who owned and ran successful businesses globally with his twin brother, couldn’t possibly understand how difficult it was for a single mother to even find a job, let alone one that necessarily fitted in with the hours Daisy spent at school. Waitressing at lunchtimes had been one of Sam’s only options since Daisy started school the previous September, and even that became a nightmare when the school holidays came around. As they invariably did.

That last problem was going to be solved in two weeks’ time, though, by her new job at Andy’s ballet studio. In the meantime, this two weeks of looking after Mr Sterne would allow her to pay her electricity and gas bills.

Even so, it was mainly out of gratitude to Andy that Sam was now on her way to spend two weeks in the home of a man she had only met once, and whom she wasn’t in the least comfortable being around. He hadn’t exactly been outright rude to her, but he hadn’t exactly been polite either.

So, was her new employer a nice man?

Quite honestly, she had no idea.

Oh, there was no doubting that he was fiercely masculine, with his wide and muscled shoulders, narrow waist and hips, and long legs. His hair was a tousled and overlong gold, and his eyes were a dark and piercing brown in his tanned and chiselled face; nose long and straight between sharply etched cheekbones, his mouth full and sensual, with the top lip fuller than the bottom above a square and determined jaw. As an indication of a sensual nature?

Well, probably not the latter for the past six weeks, since his car accident had resulted in a badly broken leg and basically kept him as being almost a recluse in his own apartment.

Although that obviously wouldn’t have prevented women from visiting him at home!

It was something Sam hadn’t thought of until now, but the bedroom exploits of billionaire Xander Sterne had been making the headlines in the newspapers and glossy magazines for more years than Sam cared to contemplate.

And the women photographed draped on his arm, at film festivals and other celebrity events, were always beautiful, always single, and always long-legged and oozing sex appeal.

‘Mummy?’ Daisy’s curious tone reminded Sam that she hadn’t yet answered her daughter.

She turned to give her daughter a beaming smile. ‘Mr Sterne is a very nice man, darling.’ She avoided so much as glancing in the direction of the chauffeur sitting in the front of the car—just in case she should happen to catch his sceptical gaze in the rear-view mirror as confirmation of her misgivings.

Because nice was hardly a word anyone would use to describe Xander. Dynamic. Arrogant. Lethally attractive. But nice? Not so much.

‘Will he like me, do you think?’ Daisy added anxiously.

It was her daughter’s anxiety that made Sam’s mouth tighten. It was a legacy of all these years of Malcolm’s total lack of interest in his young child and an uncertainty that had resulted in Daisy being nervous around all men.

‘Of course he’ll like you, poppet.’ Sam would rip the arrogant Xander Sterne to shreds if he did or said anything to hurt her already vulnerable daughter. ‘Now, did you remember to pack teddy in your bag?’ She deliberately changed the subject; there was really no reason to worry Daisy when she, herself, was already nervous enough for the both of them.

* * *

Xander didn’t exactly pace the hallways of his apartment so much as clomp inelegantly up and down them on his crutches, as he waited impatiently for the arrival of Samantha Smith and her young daughter.

Xander had to admit to being a little surprised by Sam’s appearance when she’d arrived at his apartment on Wednesday morning, so much so that he hadn’t been able to so much as speak for most of the interview, but had instead left Darius to do all the talking.

For one thing, she must have been a child bride, because she didn’t look as if she could be any older than her early twenties, certainly not old enough to be the mother of a five-year-old.

For another, she was very tiny, maybe a dot over five feet tall, and almost as slender as his future sister-in-law. Although the weary shadows about her arresting amethyst-coloured eyes, and the hollows in her pale cheeks, looked as if she owed her slenderness more to a lack of eating rather than the hours of dance practice that Miranda enjoyed.

Those unusual amethyst-coloured eyes weren’t the only arresting thing about Ms Smith’s face; she also had high cheekbones, with a smattering of freckles over those hollow cheeks and bridge of her pert little nose, and a full and sensual mouth. Her hair, brushed back from her face and secured at her crown but still long enough to fall silkily to mid-way down her back, was a deep and vivid red colour. And surely indicative of a fiery nature?

If it was, then Xander had seen little of that fire during that half-hour interview two days ago. Instead, the woman had spoken quietly in answer to first Darius’s questions, and then his own, her long dark lashes lowered as she barely glanced at him long enough for him to enjoy those unusual amethyst eyes.

Maybe she was shy, or maybe she just didn’t approve of or like playboy billionaires, but was willing to put up with him for the sake of the large amount of money Darius was paying her? His brother had preferred to attribute her quietness to nervousness at being the focus of the attention of both Sterne brothers.

Which was highly possible, Xander accepted ruefully; Darius on his own or Xander on his own could be intimidating enough, but put the two of them together...

Whatever the reason for her introspection on Wednesday, Xander was only willing to put up with her mouse-like company long enough for Darius and Miranda to enjoy their wedding and honeymoon, and not a moment longer.

So where the hell was she? Paul had left to collect the woman and her daughter over an hour ago. It was not an auspicious start to her employment here, if she hadn’t even been ready to leave at the agreed time.

Xander needed to talk to Ms Smith as soon as she arrived, and make it very clear from the onset what he would or would not tolerate from her young daughter. He already had a mental list of rules prepared.

No running up and down the hallways of his apartment.

No shouting or screaming.

No loud television programmes, especially in the mornings.

No going anywhere near his bedroom suite.

And absolutely no touching any of his artwork or personal things.

In fact, Xander would prefer it if he wasn’t even made aware of the child’s presence in his apartment. Was that even possible with a five-year-old?

It would have to be. Ms Smith and her daughter weren’t his guests but employees, and Xander expected her, and her daughter, to behave accordingly.

‘Oh, look, Mummy, have you ever seen such a big television?’

Xander barely had a chance to register the presence of the woman and her young daughter, after the doors opened to his private lift, before a small red-haired whirlwind rushed past him down the hallway in the direction of the open door to the home cinema. She clipped his elbow as she passed, which knocked him off balance. Enough so that Xander felt himself falling.

Sam’s stricken gaze followed her daughter’s headlong flight down the carpeted hallway with all the horrified fascination of someone watching an unstoppable train wreck.

She closed her eyes with a wince as Daisy rushed past an open-mouthed Xander Sterne, opening them again just in time to see him swaying unsteadily on his feet.

Yep, definitely a train wreck!

Sam quickly dropped her shoulder bag onto the floor in order to run down the hallway, reaching Xander Sterne’s side just in time to put a supportive shoulder underneath his arm to prevent him from toppling over completely.

Or, at least, that was the plan.

Unfortunately, Xander weighed probably twice as much as she did. So that when he overbalanced completely he took Sam down with him, both of them ending up on the floor, the fall slightly cushioned by the thick carpet but still eliciting a grunt from Xander Sterne as he landed on his back, Sam sprawled inelegantly across him, her denim-clad legs entangled with his much longer ones.

This wasn’t just a train wreck, it was a disaster!

‘Well, that’s rule number one already null and void!’ he muttered through gritted teeth.

‘Sorry?’ Sam raised her head to look down at him.

‘Why are you and Mr Sterne lying on the floor, Mummy?’ a bewildered Daisy enquired curiously as she wandered back down the hallway to look down at them.

‘Will you tell her or shall I?’ Xander Sterne’s chest —his very muscled chest beneath another fitted black T-shirt—moved beneath Sam’s breasts as he bit the words out.

Sam felt the colour warming her cheeks as she realised her eyes were just inches away from the censorious brown ones now glaring up at her, and that her boss’s chiselled features were twisted in displeasure.

Or perhaps it was pain he was exhibiting rather than censure?

Daisy had just succeeded in knocking this man over when he was still recovering from a broken leg, the very reason that she and Daisy were in his apartment in the first place.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Sam mumbled as she moved carefully, to avoid hurting Xander further, lifting herself up and away from him before standing up. She wondered whether she ought to answer her daughter first or help him back up onto his feet.

She decided to do both as she noted that his face had paled in the last few minutes.

‘We fell over, darling,’ she answered Daisy distractedly as she went back down onto her knees beside Xander. ‘Should I call your doctor before you attempt to get up, do you think?’ she prompted worriedly as he began to roll onto his right side—the side with the leg that wasn’t broken—with the obvious intention of attempting to get back up onto his feet.

Xander turned to give her a cold stare, knowing it was his dignity that was injured more than his leg. Four weeks of hobbling around on crutches hadn’t exactly been good for his ego, and now he had to deal with the fact that he had been knocked off his feet by a child.

Although it hadn’t been all bad, Xander acknowledged grudgingly as he reached for his crutches to help him to his feet; Ms Smith might be a tiny little thing, and her build a bit too much on the slender side for his normal taste, but what little of her there was was completely feminine. A fact his body had definitely responded to as she lay sprawled on top of him. Her body had felt incredibly soft, and she’d smelt of flowers.

It was good to know, after six weeks without sex, that at least that part of him was still in working order, even if the rest of him was still shot to hell.

Even if it was an entirely inappropriate response to the woman being paid to share his apartment for the next two weeks.

‘I don’t need a doctor to know that the only part of me that’s bruised is my ego!’ Xander answered her more harshly than he had intended. Slightly regretting that harshness as she appeared to recoil and withdraw into herself.

What had she expected? That he was just going to laugh it off as childish exuberance?

Damn it, she and her daughter had only just arrived; he hadn’t even had chance as yet for the talk about rules regarding her daughter’s behaviour.

‘Ah, just in the nick of time,’ Xander muttered as the lift doors opened a second time and Paul stepped out carrying several bags, obviously the mother and daughter’s luggage. ‘Paul can help me get up, if you would like to take your daughter with you into the kitchen and make a pot of tea,’ he bit out.

Sam knew it was an order rather than a request, and a means of getting she and Daisy out of the way.

And who could blame the man? He had already suffered the indignity of being knocked off his feet; he didn’t need the further embarrassment of having to be helped back up in front of an audience.

Xander Sterne didn’t give the impression he was a man who liked to show any sort of weakness. Ever. Which didn’t bode well for the next two weeks, Sam acknowledged with a wince, when she was supposed to be helping him, as well as cooking for him.

She gave Paul a grateful smile before leaving him to help Xander back onto his feet, while she and Daisy went down the hallway in search of what turned out to be a beautiful red and black high-gloss kitchen, its numerous and expensive appliances all in gleaming chrome.

The sort of kitchen that she would have loved to explore further, if she weren’t feeling quite so much trepidation about whether or not she and Daisy would be here long enough for her to see any more of this apartment than the kitchen. And the inside of the lift again, as they left!

She lifted Daisy up onto one of the bar stools before finding a carton of orange juice in the huge American-style fridge, and pouring some into a glass for her.

‘I thought we had a rule about running in the house?’ she chided Daisy gently as she moved to put the kettle on before looking for the tea, aware of the murmur of male voices out in the hallway as she did so.

‘Sorry, Mummy.’ Her daughter gave a guilty grimace. ‘I just saw the huge television and I wanted to— Sorry,’ she muttered again contritely.

Sam’s expression immediately softened. ‘I think you owe Mr Sterne an apology for running in his home, don’t you?’

‘Yes, Mummy. Do you think he’ll let us stay now?’ Daisy added anxiously.

It didn’t help that Sam was wondering the same thing.

She raised her brows. ‘Do you want to stay?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Daisy enthused.

Sam had no doubts that the huge TV was the reason for her daughter’s enthusiasm. It certainly couldn’t be because Daisy liked Xander Sterne, when all he had done so far was growl at them.

Xander had just been about to enter the kitchen, with the intention of giving the woman a blistering piece of his mind before then ordering her to leave, when he overheard the conversation between mother and daughter.

At which point his chest gave a tight and unexpected squeeze at how subdued the previously exuberant Daisy now sounded.

Because he had reacted like a bad-tempered idiot. To a five-year-old.

Damn it, he was not turning into his father.

He was not!

It wasn’t as if the little red-haired tornado had meant to knock him off his feet. It had been a complete accident that she had managed to clip his elbow as she passed.

But why was he making excuses for her, when he had just been presented with the perfect opportunity—the perfect excuse—to dismiss Ms Smith? Before she’d even had chance to unpack the few belongings in the bags he had instructed Paul to leave out in the hallway before he left.

And what happened if Xander did dismiss her? He did still need her help and he would mess up Darius and Miranda’s honeymoon plans if he dismissed her now.

The fact that Sam might be counting on the money she would earn by working for him for the next two weeks was also a consideration.

Despite his reservations, even Xander wasn’t selfish enough to want to be responsible for causing Ms Smith, or her daughter, unnecessary hardship.