Snowbound With His Innocent Temptation
Page 8
The tree-lined street announced its pedigree with the cars neatly parked outside fabulous, very pristine mansions. Some had driveways, most didn’t. At the end of the street, a severe, imposing building dominated the cul-de-sac. It was gated, with a guard in a booth acting as sentry just within the ornate black wrought-iron gates. The very fact that the place was secured against anyone uninvited was an indication of the sort of people who lived there and her mouth fell open as the car drove through, directly to an underground car park.
Becky tugged her coat around her and thought about the two worn, battered cases she had brought with her. She hoped no one would see her on her way to his apartment because she would probably be evicted on the spot.
He had come into her world and he had slotted in, had replaced his city garb with her dad’s country clothes and had mucked in as though he had spent his entire life in a shambolic cottage in the middle of nowhere.
But that was not his world. This was. And there was no way that she was going to fit in with the sort of seamless ease with which he had fitted into her world.
‘I’ll show you to the underground lift.’ The chauffeur turned to glance at her. It was the first thing he had said since a polite ‘Good morning’ earlier when he had greeted her at the front door and taken her cases from her to stick them in the car trunk.
Becky nodded and they walked, in silence, through some glass doors into a reception area which housed a bank of four gleaming lifts, comfortable furniture for several people to relax and two very big, very well-cared-for plants that formed a feature on either side of the row of lifts. Yet another guard in uniform was sitting behind a circular desk and he nodded and exchanged a few pleasantries with Theo’s driver, who had brought her bags out with him from the car.
This had all been a very bad idea. She should never have come. She didn’t belong here. Their worlds had collided and then flown off in different directions. She should have left it there, just an exciting memory to draw upon now and again, something to put a smile on her face as her life, temporarily upset, carried on along its prescribed route.
Instead, she was here, listening to the porter tell her where to locate Theo, who would be waiting for her. Her battered bags were by her feet. She felt cumbersome and ungainly in her big coat, with all its useful pockets, and underneath the big coat there was nothing more glamorous. Her usual jeans, layers and baggy jumper. She wondered what the chauffeur had thought of her, and now she wondered what the porter was making of her, but she refused to give in to all the insecurities nudging at the door.
This was a business deal. She was doing him a favour and he was doing her one. There was no necessity for her to fit in or not fit in.
But her stomach was knotted with nerves as she was whooshed up in the mirrored lift to the fourteenth floor.
The lift opened out onto a plush carpeted landing. She stared straight ahead into an oversized mirror, on either side of which were two grand abstract paintings.
‘Turn right,’ the porter told her with a kindly smile, ‘and you can’t miss Mr Rushing’s apartment.’
She turned right and saw the porter had not been kidding. The entire floor was clearly occupied by just one apartment. The corridor was more of an outside landing, with a glass and metal sideboard against the wall over which was another abstract work of art. It was very light and airy. She looked around her and just then, just as she was torn between moving forward and fleeing back to the sanctuary of the lift, a door opened and there he was.
Her heart fluttered erratically and her mouth went dry. He hadn’t changed and it had been absurd wishful thinking to have hoped that he might. If anything, he was taller, more aggressively masculine and more sinfully sexy than she remembered. Wearing loafers, a pair of black jeans and a black, fitted short-sleeved polo, he was lounging against the doorframe, watching her as she tried to get herself together and present a composed image.
Theo looked at her. His mind, coolly analytical, recognised what he had known would present itself to him and that was a woman who, quite simply, didn’t fit into the world of sophistication and glamour he occupied. He had known that she wouldn’t have dressed for the occasion, and anyway, he doubted she had the sort of clothes that would allow her to blend in. She looked ill at ease, with her ancient suitcases on either side of her, and in the exceptionally practical sort of outfit that worked when she was tearing off to see to a sick animal but offered nothing more than functionality.
But then there was that other part of him...the part that remained uncontrolled by his coolly analytical mind...the part that had made him lose concentration at work because he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind...
The part that looked at her standing metres away from him and felt a surge in his libido that took his breath away. It didn’t matter what she wore, how unfashionable her clothes were or how awkward she looked as she hovered suspiciously by her cases... She still turned him on.
But no sex.
Those had been her ground rules, and of course they made sense. It didn’t matter whether he still wanted her or not. It had been short-sighted to imagine furthering what they had had by a fortnight so that he could somehow get her out of his system.
Perhaps if she had jumped at the opportunity to get back into bed with him again...
If she had greeted his phone call with the sort of breathless pleasure with which any other woman would have responded...
Well, under those circumstances, he would have had no problem in stepping up to the plate and taking what was on offer. But, if she had been the sort of woman to agree to two weeks of abandoned sex, then she wouldn’t have been the woman he had gone to bed with.
She might have fancied him, she might have lost her virginity to him because she had been unable to fight the attraction and at that point in her life had chosen to allow the physical side of her to overrule the intellectual side of her, but essentially he wasn’t the type of man she was interested in—hence the ‘no sex’ stipulation.
Common sense had reasserted itself. Of course, she was right. She was far too serious to indulge in a no-strings-attached liaison, especially when she would be going against the grain and faking a relationship with him for the sake of his mother.
The most important thing was his mother’s health and he didn’t want Becky to start questioning what she was doing because they were sleeping together, because she was having an affair with the wrong guy.
Besides, he had never chased any woman, and he wasn’t about to start now.
Annoyed with himself because his libido wasn’t playing ball, he pushed off from the doorframe and walked towards her. She looked as though, given half a chance, she would turn tail and scarper.
But of course she wouldn’t do that, would she? She was being paid for the favour she was doing him. It didn’t matter how morally high-minded you were, money always ruled the day.
She’d only been persuaded into this escapade because of the money. He had thought her different from all the other women he had ever dated in the past, women who had been impressed by his bank balance and the things he was capable of buying for them, but was she really?
His mouth thinned. At least the cards were on the table with no grey areas for misunderstandings. This was a business transaction and focusing on that would get his wayward libido back on the straight and narrow...
‘You’re here.’ He picked up her bags and stood back, silver-grey eyes skirting over her. ‘I wondered if you’d get cold feet at the last minute.’
Becky heard the cool in his voice and interpreted it as what it was—the voice of a man who no longer had any physical interest in her. He needed her help and he was willing to pay a high price for it. This wasn’t about any lingering attraction or affection on his part. This was about business and she shouldn’t be surprised because, when it came to business, he was clearly at the top of the field and you didn’t get there without ruthlessly being able to take advantage of opportunities.
He w
anted to do what he felt was the best thing for his mother and she was an opportunity he had taken advantage of.
‘I was tempted.’ Becky fell into step alongside him and decided right there and then that she would have to be as cool and as detached as he was. ‘But then I thought about what was on the table and I realised that I would be a fool to turn down your offer.’
‘You mean the money.’ His voice hardened as he stood back, allowing her to brush past him into the apartment.
Becky slipped past and was frozen to the spot. This wasn’t an apartment...this was a penthouse complex. It was very open plan. Staring ahead, she looked at the wall of raw brick interrupted by a series of modern paintings that she knew, without being clued up on art, were priceless originals. Curving to the left was a short, twisting spiral staircase that led to an arrangement of rooms which she assumed to be bedrooms, although she could be wrong. But there were living spaces in front and on either side, from the glorious, huge sitting area with its white arrangement of leather sofas to a spacious kitchen in shades of grey and a dining area that was cool and contemporary. There were almost no walls, so the spaces all ebbed and flowed into one another in a beguiling mix of brick, wood and marble.
And it was vast. High ceilings, limitless space and cool, subdued colours that always seemed to characterise immensely expensive houses. This was the sort of place where too much colour would be a rude intrusion and clutter was to be discouraged at all costs.
‘Impressed?’ Against his will, Theo felt a kick of pride at her awed expression. Other women had been awed. Frankly, all of them. This one was different.
‘It’s beautiful.’ Becky turned to him, her glorious eyes sincere. ‘You must feel very privileged living here...’
Theo shrugged. ‘I’ve stopped noticing my surroundings,’ he said, sweeping up the cases and striding off towards the staircase. ‘Just as you, doubtless, have stopped noticing the leaking roof in your cottage.’ Part of the deal had been to do repair work on the cottage, and Theo intended to do a damn good job so that the basics could be covered before he bought the place, because he had no doubt that it would be his in due course, especially now that setting her up in a practice of her own was part of the deal.
He wondered what it would be like to set her up with a practice in London...
Then he shook free the ridiculous notion.
‘I’m not allowed to forget the leaking roof,’ Becky said coldly, ‘considering I have to avoid stepping in a bucket of water every other day.’
‘Had it fixed yet?’ He paused outside a bedroom door to look down at her.
Becky stared back up at him, angry with herself for the way he could still make her feel like this—hot, bothered and unsteady—when obviously everything had changed between them. She had to get a grip. She couldn’t spend the next two weeks in a state of heightened awareness.
‘One of my friends has offered to oversee the repair work. I didn’t think I could leave it leaking and unsupervised for two weeks.’
‘I’ll cover the costs.’
‘There’s no need.’
Theo pushed open the bedroom door but then stood in front of her, barring her path. ‘Let’s not skirt away from the base line here, Becky. There’s a deal on the table and I intend to stick to it. You’re doing me a great favour, and in return you get repair work done to your house and I set you up in a practice of your own so that you don’t have to worry about whether you’ll be able to get another job easily or not.’
Becky reddened. Put like that, without all the frilly business of helping him out to soften the base line, she couldn’t quite believe what she was doing here. The practical side of this had not been the real reason she had ended up here, had it? It appalled and frightened her, if she was being brutally honest with herself, but she knew that the bigger part of her reason for standing right here, in front of a bedroom in this marvellous penthouse suite of rooms, was because she had nurtured the tiniest slither of hope that he might still find her as attractive now as he had a fortnight ago. She had broken all her rules when she had slept with him. It hadn’t mattered how inappropriate he was for any kind of relationship, she had wanted to keep on breaking those rules for a little bit longer.
Now that she was here, it seemed like a ridiculous thing ever to have thought. She stuck out like a sore thumb and she wouldn’t be surprised if he made sure to hide her away until they disappeared off to Italy, just in case he was spotted by anyone he knew.
Of course he wouldn’t fancy her. Of course she had been a blip for him, just as he had been a blip for her. He would never have got in touch had the unfortunate situation with his mother not arisen. Thank goodness she had not shown her hand but instead had gone on the defensive the minute she had realised that he wanted her to do him a favour, and had laid down her ‘no sex’ ground rules. She knew that if he had chosen to break them, declared that he had missed her after all, then she would have cracked. She knew that if he had looked at her when she had stood there in that plush landing and then swept her up into his arms, her ‘no sex’ stipulation would have crumbled.
It hadn’t happened and she had been an idiot to think that it might have.
‘Fine.’ She smiled brightly and peered around him to the bedroom which, like the rest of the place, was the last word in fabulous. ‘Would you mind very much if I...er...had a shower? It’s been a long drive down here...’
She risked a quick glance. She wanted to ask him why he was in a mood with her when he had been the one to ask her down here in the first place, but she didn’t, because she needed to be as cool as he was. She wasn’t going to start pleading with him to be friendly. Maybe he resented having her here in the first place. Maybe he felt as though he had been cornered into doing the only thing he could think of for his mother but, really, he didn’t want to. He just didn’t have a choice. Perhaps he had wanted to get back to his normal life of playing with beautiful, glamorous models but suddenly he had had to rummage up a feasible girlfriend to produce to his mother and she had been the only woman he knew plain enough to pass muster.
‘And then,’ she carried on, ‘we could hammer out the details? If I’m supposed to be involved with you, we should at least get our stories straight.’
Theo marvelled at the speed with which she had abandoned her scruples about deceiving his mother and fallen in line now that there was a financial incentive dangling on the horizon.
‘Quite,’ he drawled. Her bags looked lost and out of place where he had placed them and he clenched his jaw, toughening up against any weakness inside him to imagine that those bags were a reflection of their owner, who must also be feeling lost and out of place.
‘I...’ She turned to him, burying her hands in her pockets so that she didn’t impulsively and foolishly reach out to touch him. ‘I’ve never done anything like this before...’ She shuffled and then made herself stop, reminded herself that she was a qualified vet who dealt with far more important situations than this and handled herself competently and efficiently.
‘Which is why we have to discuss what’s going to happen. It’s not going to be believable if you’re a bag of nerves whenever you’re around me. My mother will want to believe that I’m actually capable of being attracted to a woman with a brain, but even she is going to start having doubts if you act as though you’re terrified of slipping up. Anyway, take your time, I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen. We can...discuss how we proceed when you join me.’
He felt he needed a stiff drink.
By the time she emerged forty-five minutes later, he was wondering what exactly the details of his little ill-conceived adventure might be. His mother knew that he was bringing a girl to meet her and had already perked up because this was the first time in nearly two years he had done that.
There was no going back now.
His cool eyes swept over her as she slowly walked into the kitchen. She had changed into jeans and yet another baggy jumper and was wearing a pair of bedroom slippers.
You didn’t seem to mind this look when you were in my cottage, she thought with sudden resentment.
‘You’re doing it again,’ Theo drawled, strolling to get a glass from the cupboard and pouring her some wine.
‘Doing what?’
‘Looking as though you’d rather be anywhere else but where you actually happen to be.’
‘This is just such a stupid idea.’
‘I suggest you move on from that. It’s too late to get cold feet now and, besides, you have nothing to worry about.’ He drained his glass and poured another. It was a little after seven and food had been prepared by his chef. From nowhere came the memory of her little kitchen and the way he would sit at her kitchen table, watching her as she cooked, anticipating touching her.
‘What do you mean I have nothing to worry about?’ She gulped down some wine and looked at him cautiously. He was just so beautiful. Why couldn’t her imagination have been playing tricks on her?
‘It’s going to be two weeks,’ Theo said drily. ‘Two weeks for which you will be richly rewarded. In return, all you have to do is smile prettily and chat now and again. I will be with you at all times. I’m not asking you to turn into my mother’s best friend. Your main purpose will be to...’ he sighed heavily ‘...give her a purpose, make her see the future as something to look forward to. It’s a short-term plan,’ he continued with a hint of dissatisfaction, ‘but it’s the only plan I have.’
‘Why don’t you just take someone you actually want to have a proper relationship with?’ Becky suggested, frowning. ‘Instead of this great big charade?’