He frowned, his irritation building. The last thing he felt like doing was leaving her. And suddenly the last thing he felt like was sharing her with a bunch of other people around the dinner table either. He wanted all her attention on him. As his was on her.
‘Can you even remember all their names?’ she asked.
He stared at her, mystified.
‘All your ex-lovers,’ she explained grumpily.
It was his turn to roll his eyes. ‘Can they remember mine? What does it matter?’ They were irrelevant to this. ‘What’s wrong with living in the moment?’
‘It’s just so...meaningless.’
And? He really didn’t see why she wanted complication, for things to be involved. ‘Must you be so deep all the damn time? Must there be meaning in everything?’
‘Not everything all of the time. But sometimes. Yes.’
‘Work hard, play hard. That’s the life I enjoy.’ And he didn’t see why his past should impact on his affair with her now. He didn’t understand why she railed against what they could share in bed together. ‘I already told you—I will never marry. I will never have children.’
She hesitated, her fire dropping a fraction. ‘You don’t like them?’
‘It is not something that interests me.’ He turned away from her pretty eyes.
‘Oh, that’s a shame. Who’s going to inherit all your billions, then?’
He laughed, relieved to hear her tart tone. She was back to her best with him. ‘I’m going to give it away to charity.’
‘Nice.’ She nodded. ‘Just the one charity or are you going to share it around, the way you do your sex skills?’
Ouch. He rubbed his chest with the heel of his hand. ‘You’re not going to try to convince me to have children? Tell me I’d make a great father?’
‘If you don’t want them, you don’t want them. Who am I to try to convince you otherwise?’
‘You want children?’ Oddly, his chest felt heavier now. The thought of Catriona cradling a small child made it hard to breathe.
‘Possibly.’ A wary expression flitted over her features. ‘But I’d have to find a decent guy first. In my experience, they’re thin on the ground.’
He chuckled, trying to recover his equilibrium. ‘Poor princess. You’ve gone from—how do they say—from the frying pan to the fire.’
‘You said it,’ she agreed dramatically. ‘I escaped the claws of a cad only to fall into the jaws of a shark.’
From one heartbreaking engagement to one fake one. The fake one was more fun, though.
‘You’ll survive,’ he said soothingly. ‘You might even have fun.’
Silently, she met his gaze. Her eyes sparkled. She was having fun now and they both knew it.
She drew in a breath and lifted her chin that fraction higher. ‘So how many other people are going to be at dinner tonight? Will there be any other men for me to flirt with or will it just be women to fawn over you and stroke your ego?’
Yes, the game was on again. Tension coiled in his muscles at the thought of dinner; he didn’t want any distractions now.
‘It’ll just be the two of us,’ he muttered, making that decision then and there. They needed time alone together to get this sorted between them.
‘Not the usual entourage?’ She turned limpid eyes on him. ‘Are you sure you can cope with the depth of conversation that might be required?’
‘I think I can keep up with you.’
‘So where are we going?’ she asked softly.
He didn’t know. He quickly texted his assistant to let him know that he and Catriona were not going to be joining the others for dinner then challenged the beautiful woman still standing too far away from him. ‘You’re the local; you lead the way.’
She skimmed a sharp gaze over his Armani suit and then looked down at her couture dress. ‘I’m not familiar with all those super exclusive restaurants you seem to like.’
He shrugged. ‘There’ll be something nearby.’
He didn’t want it to be too far from his bed. As far as he was concerned, tonight she was going to be his.
They ended up in a small Thai takeaway joint. She leaned against the Formica counter, laughing as she ordered a selection for them both.
‘You like it spicy?’ She sent him a coy look.
‘I can’t believe you even have to ask.’
‘I don’t like it too hot,’ she said primly.
‘I don’t believe you.’ He flicked her chin. ‘I see through you.’
She turned so she faced the other way to see out of the window and watch the passers-by. ‘Maybe I see through you too.’
Did she, now? He leaned closer. ‘What do you think you see?’
‘Someone who sells himself short.’
His eyebrows shot up. Uh, no, he didn’t. He knew what he was good at.
‘You have much more to offer than good-looks, money-making brains and superb sex skills.’
Both sassy and serious, she stole his breath.
‘Oh?’ He didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want it to matter. But suddenly her opinion had value. ‘What else do I offer?’
‘Humour.’ She reached for the carrier bags from the waiter and then glanced at him. ‘And you’re kind.’
He stilled on his way out of the tiny restaurant. ‘You’ve clearly mistaken me for someone else.’
‘Oh, you can have your cruel moments.’ She bit her lip ruefully and led him out onto the pavement. ‘But you can’t hide your underlying tendency towards kindness. You didn’t drop me in it in front of all those people at your party. You’re letting me sort my family’s stuff even though a professional would be much faster, but you know it matters to me.’
He cleared his throat. ‘I think you’ll find that kindness isn’t my motivation.’
Her eyes glinted but she shook her head. ‘You’re fundamentally okay,’ she argued. ‘I just don’t think you realise it. You look after your staff, you go to great lengths to take care of your guests and you actually do give money to charity.’ She turned and walked snappily along the path. ‘Now, we could sit in the garden if you like. As long as you can handle eating with plastic cutlery?’
‘I guess,’ he muttered dryly, following a pace behind. But the number of times in his youth when he’d eaten with no cutlery... Hell, the number of meals he’d missed because there was no money even to buy bread. She might think she could manage on a bit of a budget now, but she had no idea of his reality. And she had no real idea of him.
Kind? He didn’t feel in the least kind regarding her.
He sprawled back on the lawn, recovering from her direct assessment of him, his appetite lost. But he enjoyed watching her, listening to her chattering about her day, about the city, about anything, prompting her with a question when she fell silent. He needed her to distract him from the desire tightening his muscles.
The warm dusk slowly turned into a cool evening. The last of the sunlight made strands of her hair spark. Her vitality glowed. All he wanted to do was reach out and capture it—capture her. Yeah, not kind.
‘It was good?’ he asked as she helped herself to the last spoonful of his curry.
‘Mm hmmm,’ she mumbled as she finished the mouthful.
‘So you do like it hot,’ he muttered triumphantly.
She smiled at him and he was felled.
‘Let’s go home.’ The words spilled out. But the second they left his mouth his innards chilled.
Since when did he think of Parkes House as his home? Let alone think of her as being part of that? And this desire to capture her and hold her close? He froze as his heart slammed his chest. He tried to block the fear trickling in. Catriona was just another woman he was seducing. That was all.
Just another lover who he could take. Or leave.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KITTY WORKED QUICKLY and efficiently, categorising items before re-boxing them neatly, mortified her father had left such a mess for a total stranger to deal with. Much ought to be taken to the rubbish or recycling centre and the sooner the better because she was totally over the blow-hot, blow-cold enigma that was Alejandro Martinez.
He’d fallen silent on the short walk home last night and then vanished to his room without a word—no goodnight call, let alone goodnight kiss. He’d gone to work without speaking to her this morning as well. Which was fine and she was not disappointed and she should not have spent all day trying to work him out. Except he consumed her thoughts. Why did he sometimes seem so unhappy despite all his success? There were moments when she thought an expression of pure pain crossed his face—it had flashed out of the blue when they’d walked home last night. He’d utterly iced up. She didn’t understand why—they hadn’t been talking anything personal.
She sighed and taped down another box. The mystery of his life was no business of hers; she just needed to get a grip on her own reaction to him. She was not up for a roller coaster ride of his engineering.
The slam of the front door echoed all the way up to the room where she was working. She glanced at the clock. It was only four in the afternoon, way too early for him to have finished work already.
‘How’s it going?’ he asked as he appeared in the library doorway the merest moment later, all tense angles in a navy suit, no tie and no smile.
‘I hate my father for letting it get to this state,’ she admitted honestly, trying not to stare at him, but failing.
Alejandro’s edgy expression softened. ‘Another day nearer to your precious necklace. You suffer so for your diamonds.’
‘Why are you back so early?’ She watched him hovering just inside the room. ‘Shouldn’t you be running your empire?’
‘It’s running successfully without me for a few hours.’ He looked into the nearest box and poked through the contents. ‘It’s a test for the new employees.’
‘Really?’
He looked back to her. ‘No,’ he said bluntly.
The atmosphere thickened. Her heart thudded too quickly for comfort. She was too acutely aware of that raw look in his eyes that she didn’t understand. He looked as if he hadn’t slept well.
Don’t get curious. Don’t think you’re starting to care.
She tried to warn herself—her mother had fallen for a suave, charming swine and so had she in James. She didn’t need to make that mistake again. She didn’t need him coming home all intense and brooding and pulling her close only to then push away without a minute’s notice. But an impulse was rising—she wanted to see his smile again. She wanted him to tease again.
Alejandro’s gaze dropped and he sombrely studied the contents of the box nearest him.
‘I was thinking you’re right,’ he said slowly.
Kitty’s jaw dropped but before she could speak he flashed the quickest of grins.
‘That I should understand more about this house,’ he added, walking away from her, the smile gone again. ‘And I might as well do that while you’re here to explain it to me.’
She was wary of the intense energy emanating from him. Of this seemingly random request. What did he really want?
‘Where did you want to start?’ she asked as he restlessly prowled round the room, picking up small items and replacing them haphazardly and seeming to avoid looking at her directly.
He fiddled with a small wooden figurine on the table. ‘Show me your favourite things.’
She kept watching him steadily but he still didn’t meet her gaze.
‘I don’t have favourite things as much as I have favourite places,’ she said.
‘Such as the library?’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘I used to wait for my father here and it was always a disappointment. That’s why Teddy left notes for me in the hidden compartment in the bookcase—to cheer me up.’
He’d left notes because most of the time Teddy was out, supposedly at sports coaching when in fact he was at the local drama club.
‘So then it’s your bedroom?’ Alejandro guessed.
‘That came later,’ she corrected him. ‘My favourite place of all is the secret room.’
He spun towards her, his eyebrows high. ‘There’s a secret room?’
She laughed, pleased at the flash of interest in his face. ‘I know—it’s pretty cool.’
‘It wasn’t on the plans.’
‘If it was, it wouldn’t be secret!’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Come on—it’s downstairs. It’s not huge; it’s about the size of a lift compartment.’
‘And it exists because...?’
‘Because it was an extension of the butler’s pantry and its entrance got sealed and hidden because one of my ancestors was a scoundrel and needed to hide from the long arm of the law.’
He stared slack-jawed at her. ‘Seriously?’
He laughed as she nodded.
‘That sounds like one of your family. Good God!’ He walked to the door. ‘Show me.’
She overtook him on the stairs, unable to stop her small smile at the thought of sharing the house’s secret with him. She’d always loved this little room. ‘So, through the kitchen and then out to here.’
‘Where every kitchen appliance known to man is stored,’ he said dryly.
‘That’s right,’ she acknowledged ruefully. Her father had indulged their old chef back in the day before the money had dried up.
She walked into a corner of the pantry and pushed the old subtle knob that formed part of the decorated skirting board. There was a clunking noise and a part of the wall swung, revealing a narrow gap.
‘Oh, my—’
‘I know.’ She interrupted him. ‘Hardly anyone knows it’s here.’ She squeezed in the gap, her own excitement at being back in the small room rising. ‘It’s really cute.’ She glanced into the far corner where, as a girl, she’d set up a cosy hiding place. Slowly she turned, suddenly remembering. ‘But, whatever you do, don’t—’
She broke off as he shut the door behind him.
‘Don’t what?’ he asked.
The darkness was complete.
‘Oh,’ he said, quick to realise. ‘We’ll have to feel for the door handle?’
‘Actually, there’s a slight design flaw,’ she mumbled in embarrassment. ‘No lighting. No interior door handle.’
‘Why am I not surprised?’ he sighed. ‘Are we going to suffocate to death?’
‘No, there’s a vent.’
‘Thank heavens for small mercies. Do I need to break the door open?’
‘No, don’t damage it,’ she said quickly. That old mechanism was too historic and she’d hate its secret to be exposed. ‘Can’t you call one of your assistants to come and direct them how to open it?’
‘I don’t have my phone with me.’
Oh. ‘I don’t either,’ she realised. She’d left it on the table upstairs. ‘We’re stuck.’
Heat flooded her at the realisation. She was locked in, alone and in the dark, with one very sexually magnetic man who was the walking definition of unpredictable.
‘There’s really no way of opening it from this side?’ he asked, a thin vein of irritation in his voice.
‘No.’ She’d tried hard enough as a girl.
He was silent for a moment and she heard him stepping around, getting the feel for the space. ‘Paolo should be here in an hour or so to drive us to dinner. He’ll come in through the kitchen entrance; will we hear him arrive?’
‘Yes.’
‘And will he be able to hear us if we yell?’
‘Yes.’ She’d yelled when she was a child a few times.
‘Then...’ He paused. ‘I
guess we wait.’
For an hour or so. She leaned against the back wall and slid down into her old familiar corner, blocking her mind from sending her images of what they could do to pass the time. She was not going to be that easy for Alejandro.
‘You know this is dangerous,’ he said a bit roughly. ‘How did you get out of here when you were a kid?’
She cleared her throat. ‘I taped a ribbon over the edge so the door couldn’t quite lock into place, but it was almost shut so no one knew I was here.’ Or at least that’s what she’d pretended. The chef had always known and had always checked on her. Neither of her parents had.
‘What did you do in here all by yourself?’
‘Drew. Dreamed.’ She’d sat with her torch and sketched fanciful creatures—fairies goblins, elves. She smiled self-consciously at the memory—which was stupid, given he couldn’t see her. But it was that kind of place for her—secret and a little bit magic.
‘You couldn’t do that upstairs?’
‘When Mother was at home, my father stayed out very late.’ Her smile faded. She’d sat in the library and waited for him. ‘And when she was away he brought a lot of “guests” home. I preferred to stay out of their way when they were here.’
‘Female guests?’ Alejandro asked expressionlessly.
‘Naturally.’
There was a brief pause. She heard him moving nearer, then felt him sit down next to her.
‘Your mother travelled for work?’
She bit back a sad laugh. ‘No, she’d go on retreats to “find herself”.’ She paused. Her mother would routinely just check out of marriage and motherhood. ‘After the attic was renovated, I stopped coming down here.’ She’d hardly had to come downstairs at all. She could avoid her father’s affairs and absence in her own room.
‘And what happened to your mother?’ That roughness in his voice gave the question an edge.
‘Eventually she didn’t come back from one of her retreats. Last I heard, she’s in Australia. I guess she finally found herself. She gave Dad everything in the divorce—gave up all her material possessions and never came back.’ She’d given up her children too.
Claiming His Convenient Fianc?e Page 10