‘You’re serious about this?’
‘Yes.’
‘How serious?’
Her eyes flashed her impatience with his scepticism. ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’
Oh, yes, Mia was here. One of the Mias, at least. A businesslike Mia that Ethan didn’t know at all. He nodded tersely. ‘In that case I’ll organise a flight to the South of France for later this afternoon.’
‘But—I can’t go today!’ Mia gasped.
‘Why not?’ he prompted calmly.
‘I—Well—Because I’m not ready to go yet! And when I am ready I can organise my own flight, thank you very much. I just need you to—’
‘Burton Industries has its own small jet now, Mia.’
She blinked. ‘I didn’t realise that …’
Ethan shrugged. ‘It’s more comfortable for William to have his own plane.’
‘Even so, I can’t just disappear to the South of France this afternoon. I have a business to run—’
‘The coffee shop isn’t open on Mondays.’
Mia didn’t need to ask how he knew that; Ethan had obviously memorised that report on her before shredding it! ‘That’s beside the point—’
‘What is the point, Mia?’ Ethan stood up abruptly to move around the desk, his eyes hardening to a steely grey as Mia instinctively took a step away from him. As if she were frightened of being anywhere near him, damn it.
Or as if she were frightened of her reaction to his close proximity …?
Ethan eyed her in consideration; Mia’s green eyes were wide and wary in the paleness of her face—her body was tensed as if for flight, her hands clenched at her sides.
‘No need to look so nervous, Mia.’ Ethan gave a rueful smile as he leant back against his desk and folded his arms across his chest, looking down at her with mocking eyes. ‘I would prefer to be somewhere a little more comfortable than my office when I collect on my debt. Preferably somewhere with the luxury of a bed …’
Mia drew her breath in sharply even as she felt the warmth of colour flood her cheeks. ‘I came here to talk about my father, Ethan, not to play games with you!’
He gave a cool nod of his head. ‘And I’ve already suggested arranging to fly to the South of France this afternoon.’
‘I—’
‘For two reasons,’ Ethan continued. ‘One, it doesn’t give you a chance to change your mind.’ He eyed her knowingly. ‘And two, I believe William has already spent enough years worrying and missing you.’
Mia gave a pained frown as she easily heard the rebuke in Ethan’s tone. ‘I’m sure my father has been far too busy with you and your mother in his life to really notice my absence.’
Ethan continued to look at her intently. ‘William loves my mother very much, and I’m sure he is fond of me, but neither of us could ever be—or indeed would ever want to be—considered as a replacement for his own daughter.’
Mia gave a shake of her head. ‘I think you’re exaggerating, Ethan. I look so much like the wife he had so obviously fallen out of love with long before she died that I would only have been a constant reminder of that failed marriage.’
‘You can’t seriously believe that?’ Ethan looked at her incredulously.
‘Why can’t I?’ Mia began to pace restlessly.
‘Because it’s ridiculous to think that an innocent child can be held responsible for its parents’ failings.’
Mia eyed him derisively. ‘And who told you that little gem of wisdom?’
‘My mother, as it happens,’ he murmured with a frown. ‘And I don’t believe for one moment that William thinks of you in that way any more than my mother ever has in regard to me.’
She stopped pacing to look across at him. ‘What do you mean?’
He gave a humourless smile. ‘Maybe if we hadn’t spent so much time in bed together five years ago, but had talked a little too, you would already know what I mean.’
‘Ethan …!’ She eyed him exasperatedly.
He gave a shrug. ‘My own father was an unpredictable drunk and a bully.’ Ethan gave an acknowledging inclination of his head as Mia gave a surprised gasp. ‘To a degree that he made almost the whole twelve years my mother was married to him, and the first ten years of my own life, nothing but a misery.’
‘He—was he physically abusive?’
Ethan shook his head. ‘It was more emotional and mental cruelty. Probably as a sop to the fact that his wife was more successful as a deputy headmistress, as she was at the time, than he as the car salesman he was.’
Mia swallowed hard. ‘How did he die?’
‘He just stroked out whilst in the midst of a drunken rage because my mother had called to say she was going to be late arriving home from work one evening.’
‘I—were you with him?’
Ethan’s gaze was very direct. ‘As it happens, yes.’
Mia had never known about any of this in Ethan’s past. ‘I’m sorry …’
‘Why should you be sorry?’ he asked dryly.
‘I—well, I’ve never asked you about your father …’
Ethan shrugged. ‘I never bothered to talk to you about him.’
Mia was very aware that the reason for this oversight was because for the three months they had been together she and Ethan had been so totally physically engrossed in each other that they had rarely talked about anything.
As for Grace Black …
Tall and strikingly beautiful, with rich auburn hair and lively blue eyes, as the headmistress of Southlands School Grace Black had always given the impression of cool and unruffled elegance; Mia would never have guessed she had been married for twelve years to the man Ethan had described. Ethan’s own father …
‘I look just like him,’ Ethan continued evenly. ‘Same build. Same dark hair. Same grey eyes.’ He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘It’s never stopped my mother from seeing me for exactly who I am rather than who and what my father was.’
Because Ethan wasn’t anything like the weak and bullying man he had described as being his father.
Ethan was confident, yes, and occasionally arrogant, but never a bully. Neither had Mia ever known him to drink anything but the occasional glass of wine socially. And she had never seen him out of control when he was angry. On the contrary, Ethan usually became calmer, more reasoning, when he was angry.
Any more than Mia was anything like her social butterfly of a mother, who had appeared to have no interests other than going to the beauty salon, shopping, going to her tennis club three times a week, and partying with friends …
Not that Mia had ever attributed any blame to her mother for being that way. All the Burton homes had been run very efficiently by an army of servants, Mia had been out at school all day, and William had often worked late—necessitating Kay making a social life for herself.
That social life had come to an abrupt halt after Kay’s accident, resulting in her moods becoming mercurial, at best—to the point that William had decided it would be better for Mia if she went away to boarding school to attend sixth form. The school at which Grace Black had been headmistress …
Mia couldn’t quite meet Ethan’s gaze now. ‘I liked your mother when I attended Southlands. And I’d never say she didn’t have a perfect right to find happiness after she was widowed.’
‘Just not with your father!’
Mia’s chin tilted defensively. ‘Not in the way the two of them got together, no.’
‘And what way would that be, Mia?’
She moved restlessly under Ethan’s narrowed gaze. ‘Look, I’ve never thought my parents had the perfect marriage—’
‘Is there such a thing?’ Ethan asked dryly. ‘From what I’ve seen, most people would consider themselves lucky if they had ten per cent of perfection in their marriage.’
‘That’s extremely cynical of you …’
‘This coming from the woman who can’t even bear to talk about her father’s second wife without a sneer in her voice?’
Her father’s
second wife …
Chicken or the egg …?
Ethan maintained that his mother and William hadn’t even met each other until Mia started attending Southlands School, and Mia was just as insistent that William had chosen that particular school because of his relationship with Grace Black.
What if, after all this time, Mia discovered she had been wrong …?
Although, either way, William and Grace had still been a couple long before William’s wife had died.
She shook her head. ‘We’re straying from the point, Ethan.’
‘That’s probably because I’m not sure what the point is any more! You’re right—your parents’ marriage was far from perfect, Mia. In fact—’ He broke off abruptly.
‘Yes?’ Mia looked at him warily.
‘Never mind,’ Ethan muttered impatiently as he turned away. ‘The point I was trying to make earlier was that, whatever your parents did or didn’t feel for each other, your father has always loved you. William has photographs of you everywhere, Mia,’ he continued. ‘The house here in London, the villa in the South of France, the apartment in New York, the estate in Antigua. Everywhere!’
She grimaced, not happy with Ethan’s ‘never mind’ in answer to her question about her parents, but knowing him well enough to realise from his closed expression that if Ethan knew any more on the subject he wasn’t going to share it with her.
‘That must be unpleasant for you!’
He gave her a reproving glance. ‘My point being that William wouldn’t bother doing that if looking at those photographs reminded him of something or someone unpleasant.’
Ethan made a convincing argument, Mia allowed reluctantly. Convincing enough for her to agree to go to the South of France later this afternoon after all …?
She had baked enough cookies over the weekend to last the whole week, the coffee shop was closed all day today, and she had no doubts Dee and Matt could manage without her for a couple of days …
‘Okay, Ethan.’ She sighed. ‘Make the arrangements for me to fly over this afternoon. But I can’t stay long—’
‘Let’s not start out by putting time limits on this before you’ve even left England.’ Ethan deliberately kept his tone light, revealing none of the inner satisfaction he was feeling at Mia’s capitulation.
Mia looked less certain of herself now. ‘How will you—? How do you intend letting my father know of my arrival …?’
‘My mother, of course.’
‘Of course.’
Ethan’s mouth tightened at the heaviness of Mia’s tone. ‘If you can think of some other way of breaking the news to William without his having another heart attack I’d be glad to hear it.’
Mia seemed to give the question thought for several long seconds, before giving a defeated sigh. ‘I can’t.’
‘Cheer up, Mia,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘Think of this as being your good deed for the decade!’
Her eyes flashed. ‘You really don’t have a very good opinion of me, do you …?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m reserving judgement.’
‘You didn’t seem too bothered as to whether or not you liked me on Friday evening!’
Ethan wasn’t bothered by it now, either. How could he be when just being in the same room with Mia again was enough to make him so physically aware of her? Ethan wanted to strip her out of that businesslike black suit and pale green blouse before lying her across his desk and devouring her.
A move no doubt guaranteed to ensure that Mia changed her mind about going to the South of France or anywhere else later today …
‘Perhaps.’ He nodded abruptly before moving to sit back behind his desk. ‘I’ll give you a call later this morning to let you know what time I’ve arranged the flight for, and when I’ll be picking you up and driving to the private airfield.’
Mia frowned. ‘I’m quite capable of getting a taxi if you tell me where I need to go.’
‘I don’t think you’ve quite understood me, Mia.’ Ethan gave an amused smile. ‘I’m coming with you to the South of France.’
Mia’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘I’m not a child that needs you to take me anywhere!’
‘I’m well aware of the fact that you aren’t a child, Mia,’ he acknowledged wearily. ‘I just think it would be … better for all concerned if I came along too.’
No doubt Ethan’s presence would make this ‘better’ for William—and for Grace, Mia accepted. But would his being there make it any easier for her?
Much as she found being in Ethan’s company disturbing, in this particular situation she believed she might also find it somehow reassuring. ‘Okay, Ethan, we’ll do this your way,’ Mia conceded heavily. ‘But don’t expect there to be any happy-ever-after ending to this meeting, because it just isn’t going to happen,’ she said with certainty.
‘We’ll see,’ he murmured softly. ‘And Mia …?’ He stopped her as she turned away to walk briskly over to the door.
Mia turned slowly, remembering the last time they had parted like this—and the resultant mess she’d had to clear up after smashing the wine glass against the door! ‘Yes …?’
Ethan gave a mocking smile, as if he too were remembering hearing glass shatter against wood as he left her apartment on Friday evening. ‘Remember to pack your bikini; it may be cold here, but it’s still warm in the South of France!’
Pack her bikini? As if! ‘I’m only doing this to set my father’s mind at rest concerning my wellbeing, Ethan—not going on holiday!’
‘Pity,’ he said softly, that lazy grey gaze moving over her slowly, knowingly, from her the top of her golden head to her stiletto-shoe toes.
Reminding Mia all too forcibly of the fact that Ethan had seen at least half of her completely naked on Friday evening … That he had kissed her with those sensually sculptured lips, and those elegant hands now resting on his desktop had caressed every inch of her …
She drew in a ragged breath. ‘I’ll see you later this afternoon.’
‘Count on it,’ he confirmed.
It took every ounce of Mia’s rapidly wavering self-confidence to continue walking to the door, all the time totally aware of him watching her every step of the way …
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘COMFORTABLE?’
Who wouldn’t be comfortable in this luxurious private jet, with its plush carpet, extensive bar and kitchen area, eight fixed easy chairs arranged about two coffee tables, and your own personal cabin stewardess to welcome your aboard and see to your every need?
Mia had travelled extensively with her parents when she was a child, and they had always travelled first class, but this private jet was something else completely …
‘Business must be good,’ she stated dryly, and avoided looking at Ethan sitting opposite her by concentrating on securing her seat belt instead.
Having telephoned her earlier, as he had said he would, Ethan had duly arrived at the coffee shop at three-thirty in order to drive them both to a private airstrip. A beautiful blonde stewardess had greeted them as they’d come on board, and the pilot had come through to say hello too, before returning to the cockpit to prepare for take-off.
‘It is,’ Ethan confirmed.
Mia gave their surroundings another brief glance rather than look directly at the ruggedly disturbing Ethan. He was casually dressed this afternoon, in jeans and a dark grey polo shirt beneath a black leather jacket, his dark hair slightly windswept from leaving the car to board the plane. Mia had been nerve-janglingly aware of everything about him since the moment she’d come down the stairs from her apartment and opened the door to him …
‘Is that the bathroom through there?’ She nodded in the direction of the closed door at the opposite end of the plane from the cockpit.
‘And a bedroom.’
Mia turned back sharply to look at him, colour warming her cheeks as she saw the open mockery in Ethan’s expression. She remembered his earlier comment concerning ‘somewhere with the luxury of a bed’ when he collected on his
debt!
‘A bedroom …?’
He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘It’s so that William can rest comfortably on long flights.’
‘Really?’ She glanced down the cabin to where Karen, the perky blonde stewardess, stood behind the bar, busily preparing the drinks they had requested. ‘No doubt you find it “comfortable” for use during long flights, too?’
There was absolutely no way that Ethan could misunderstand Mia’s implication. Or his own disinclination to satisfy that curiosity.
He had almost made a serious error in his office earlier, when his inappropriate arousal and Mia’s coolness had almost goaded him into revealing the unhappy state of Mia’s parents’ marriage.
He was determined not to allow Mia to get under his skin to that extent again. ‘For future reference, Karen happens to be married to the pilot.’
‘Oh.’ Mia had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘That’s—convenient.’
‘And if you want a list of the women I’ve slept with during the past five years then I suggest you come right out and ask, rather than make random insinuations,’ he added.
She bristled. ‘I have absolutely no interest in knowing who you’ve slept with during the past five years!’
‘No?’ Ethan mocked.
‘No.’
‘Not even a little bit interested?’
‘No!’
Ethan gave a lazily satisfied smile as Mia’s obvious agitation indicated the opposite. He really did like her hair in that shorter style, in fact his fingers itched to become entangled in it as he took her in his arms and—
‘Can I get you anything else before take-off, Mr Black, Miss Burton?’ A smiling Karen delivered their drinks to the table—sparkling water for Ethan and an orange juice for Mia.
‘Not for me, thank you,’ Mia refused warmly.
‘We’re fine, thanks.’ Ethan gave the other woman a light smile, that smile fading as he leant forward across the coffee table. ‘Whereas I would be very interested to hear how many men you have slept with the past five years …’
Mia was about to take a sip of her orange juice, but instead of sipping she drew in a startled breath, resulting in the juice going up her nose rather than down her throat. She instantly began to choke, inelegantly snorting juice out of her nose as she coughed and spluttered and her eyes began to stream with pained tears.
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