by Penny Jordan
‘Courage—’ he began impulsively.
But she was holding up her hand in denial, shaking her head as she told him unsteadily. ‘No…don’t. No, I don’t want to hear any more.’
Placing the small box down on the edge of the bed, Courage turned and fled.
Once she was back in the security of the kitchen, she began to regret what she had done and what she might have betrayed. It had been stupid of her to allow herself to be drawn into such a dangerously intimate exchange and oddly, despite the way he had taunted her, she had a very deep-rooted feeling that Gideon Reynolds was not the kind of man who liked his women sexually passive, or one who needed the sexual stimulation of playing fet-ishistic bondage games.
Which meant that he had deliberately tried to bait her. But why?
She was still pondering the question a little later on, when she heard him come downstairs. She tensed as she heard his footsteps coming towards her office, glad to have the protective bulk of her desk between them when he came in.
He was fully dressed now, in a crisp white shirt and a dark business suit which gave him an imposing air of authority.
‘If Chris appears will you tell him that I want to see him?’ he asked Courage, his manner as formal and businesslike as his appearance. No trace of his earlier very male sexuality was in evidence.
As he turned away from her and walked back through the still open kitchen door Courage drew in a short, shaky breath, which she was still holding several seconds later and went on holding until she heard him open and close the front door.
Well, this morning had convinced her of one thing, at least: that trick of the telephone wires which had made his voice sound so shockingly similar, familiar, had been nothing more than that… a trick.
Listening to him this morning…watching him… she had felt no similar sense of recognition at all. The clean, sharp smell of his body had been nothing like the aroused musky scent she remembered. A tiny shudder convulsed her body, her face burning hot with remembered discomfort.
The only thing the two men did have in common was that both of them—She stopped, unwilling to con tinue with her uncomfortable and unwanted train of thought.
That sharp pang of sexual hunger she had felt so recently had been nothing other than an odd fluke… A… physical aberration… Just because the only other time she had ever felt anything similar to it had been in a dark London garden, held tight in the arms of an unknown man, didn’t mean… Didn’t mean anything, she told herself fiercely.
The last, the very last complication she needed in her life right now was to start feeling… To start wanting Gideon Reynolds. The very last!
‘This is a lovely area. I can’t wait to start work here.’
Courage smiled at the other woman’s open enthusiasm. Her interview with Jenny Carter had confirmed her original opinion of her. Her qualifications were excellent and, unlike Alfonso, she showed no signs of a difficult or volatile temperament.
‘I’ve been wanting to get away from city living for some time,’ she confessed to Courage. ‘I was brought up in the country and I miss it. Now that both my children are grown up and settled into their own lives it’s much easier to take the decision to make a change of lifestyle.’
The interview over, they were walking across the gravel to where Jenny’s car was parked. Courage knew that Jenny’s husband, who had been over a decade older than her, had died two years earlier and that she was now alone.
‘You must miss him,’ she had said sympathetically when Jenny told her.
‘Yes, I do,’ she had agreed. ‘But at least I have my family and friends and my work, although of course it is never quite the same.’
She had raised her eyebrows when, in answer to one of her questions, Courage had told her that Gideon wasn’t married.
‘Mmm… Why not I wonder? A man of his age and with his wealth. He can’t have been short of opportunities.’
‘His work takes him all over the world,’ Courage had explained, brutally stifling the small, sharp ache her words had caused. Why should she care whether or not Gideon was married? She didn’t. She couldn’t, she told herself fiercely.
‘Mmm… Well, a lot of men of his type do tend to marry late, and then to some pretty young thing who they believe they can mould into a cross between a child and an obedient slave. Not that it normally works. Inevitably their pretty, wide-eyed girl-brides grow up and want to be treated as women—as adults. I’ve seen it happen so many times. Still, I don’t suppose it’s really any of our business,’ she had added briskly.
Changing the subject slightly, she had gone on, ‘You did mention at our original interview that there would be occasions when there could be a substantial amount of business and social entertaining?’
‘Potentially, yes,’ Courage had agreed, choosing her words carefully, remembering what Gideon had said about his neighbours refusing his invitation. ‘But that’s something we can discuss once you’ve settled in.’
They had agreed that Jenny was to move over the weekend and settle herself in, and that she and Courage would go through the store cupboards and organise themselves properly early the following week.
Jenny would be taking over the small self-contained flat which had been Alfonso’s—one of several staff flats built over the garage and stable-block.
The two of them would work well together, Courage knew, provided Gideon approved of her decision to employ Jenny. They had agreed on a month’s trial on either side.
‘Not that I expect to change my mind,’ Jenny informed Courage before she drove off.
‘Me, neither,’ Courage assured her. ‘But, of course, the final decision doesn’t rest with me.’
CHAPTER SIX
COURAGE frowned, focusing her concentration on the computer screen in front of her as she studied the figures she was checking—household accounts for the period before Gideon had employed her.
They should have been straightforward enough, and initially the only reason that Courage had been studying them had been to see what kind of monthly expenditure the upkeep of the property necessitated. She had already drawn up her own prospective budgets, but before she presented them to Gideon she wanted to make sure that they were not too far out of line with what was normally spent.
Rather disconcertingly, though, she had discovered that her budget forecasts were considerably lower than the expenses for the previous periods—and not in any one specific area. The extra expense was spread over almost the whole of the household budget.
Having always worked in the hotel trade, where keeping overheads down meant the difference between making a profit and going bankrupt, she had initially been puzzled by so much unnecessary wastage. However, a closer look at the accounts had brought to light something rather more serious.
Was she leaping to unwarranted conclusions? Or were her suspicions that Chris Elliott had deliberately padded out the household expenses correct?
Her head was aching slightly, and not merely because of the long period of time she had spent staring at the computer screen. Her grandmother was going into hospital today for her tests. Courage very much wanted to go with her, but Gideon was due back from a business trip to Kuwait.
He had flown out there almost immediately after his return from America, and Courage felt apprehensively on edge at the thought of his return.
It had shocked her to discover that the reason he had been so anxious to see his PA before he left had been because he wanted to sack him—now she suspected she knew the reason why.
Courage had heard their raised voices from her own office; or at least one voice had been raised. Some of the comments she had heard Chris making about his own upper class family background and upbringing in comparison to—according to his judgement—Gideon’s much more lowly social status, had filled her with both shock and contempt.
Although Gran rarely mentioned it, her grandparents had been titled but impoverished Scottish landowners. Gran’s mother—their daughter—had married a
second son with no title, and Gran herself, of course, had then been a mere ‘Miss’, as opposed to her cousin’s more socially elevated ‘Honourable’ and ‘Lord Robert…’
The families still kept in touch—over the years Courage had attended her share of very grand weddings and christenings—but she felt neither envy of her distant titled relatives nor the slightest desire to boast of her connections with them.
Why should she? She was perfectly content with the person she was and with her own role in life.
She had always scorned and loathed the kind of attitude she had heard Chris loudly expressing. To Courage his comments were both ugly and self-demeaning.
She had not been able to take to him at all, and neither was she surprised that Gideon had sacked him. It had been obvious to her within hours of her starting work how much he abused his position as Gideon’s employee.
Courage had heard the door slam later as he left, but the only reference Gideon had made to the incident had been to tell her coolly the following day that Chris Elliott had ‘left’.
Quarrels, arguments and hysterical outbursts in the workplace were not unfamiliar to her—neither was petty theft or even fraud. No wonder Gideon had dismissed the other man without notice.
The phone on her desk rang abruptly. As she reached for the receiver Courage could feel her stomach muscles tensing. Her grandmother’s voice sounded distressingly weak as she assured Courage that she felt fine, although rather tired.
‘The specialist says that he wants me to stay for another couple of days,’ she fretted. ‘But it’s so expensive, Courage. And…’
‘You’re not to worry about that, Gran,’ Courage quickly reassured her.
She frowned as she heard a helicopter approaching the house. That would be Gideon returning. She didn’t want him to come in and find her in the middle of a private telephone call, even one as necessary as this one was…
‘I’ve got to go, Gran… I’ll see you tonight…’ Her fingers curled anxiously round the receiver as she heard imperious male footsteps outside her office.
‘I love you too,’ she confirmed chokily to her grand-mother as Gideon opened the door and strode in. It was so rare for her grandmother to make any kind of emotional statement that Courage was having to fight back tears as she replaced the receiver.
Was her grandmother beginning to suspect that her condition was more serious than she had been allowed to believe?
As Courage blinked back her tears she heard Gideon saying contemptuously, ‘Personally, I’ve never been a great fan of telephone sex. Especially when it’s conducted in my time and on my telephone bill.
‘I’ve brought two guests back with me. They’re going to need rooms. If you can spare the time from your love-life, of course,’ he added sarcastically.
Courage wasn’t given the time to correct him. He was already striding out of her office and back down towards the hall.
Automatically she followed him, pausing only to snatch up her suit jacket and slip it on.
His two guests, both male, must have returned with him from Kuwait, Courage guessed. They were both dressed in long, flowing robes, but when Gideon introduced her to them their accents, like their bearing, were emphatically British public school and, Courage guessed, probably Sandhurst.
Smiling, she offered to take them to their rooms, firmly maintaining the kind of eye-contact with them that stressed that the only kind of approach from them she would respond to was one connected with her job. She had learned very early on in her career just how to convey to men that she would not welcome any kind of sexual approach from them.
It didn’t take long for her to settle them into their rooms. Her offer of afternoon tea refused, she made a mental note to alert Jenny to their arrival and go over a suitable menu with her. She would also have to check with Gideon to find out how long they were staying.
Her heart sank as she realised that her evening visit to her grandmother would probably have to be cancelled.
She found Gideon in his office, gathering up some papers. It had transpired from the visitors’ conversation that Gideon intended to take them round the experimental glasshouses where he developed and tested the special blends of grasses he was constantly working on and improving.
‘Only the one night,’ was his response when she asked him how long they were staying. ‘Not long enough for you to make much of an impression on them, I’m afraid. Although I should have thought that a woman of your age and… experience would be well aware that while they might be quite happy to enjoy your sexual favours, they almost always marry within their own culture.’
Somehow or other Courage managed to bite back the furious retort that sprang to her lips. How dared he judge her so unfairly—and why was he doing so? She shrugged the thought aside. She had far more worrying things to think about. Like her grandmother, for instance.
As she smothered another yawn, to her relief Courage heard the sound of Gideon’s guests crossing the way and going upstairs.
Thank goodness for that. Now at last she could go home.
Although Gideon had not specifically asked her to stay, she had felt that she ought to do so. It was now almost two o’clock in the morning… A quick phone call to her grandmother earlier had explained the position, and now all Courage wanted to do was to go home and get some sleep.
‘Why don’t you stay here tonight?’ Jenny had suggested when Courage had refused her offer to stand in for her. ‘There’s a spare bed in my room.’
‘I can’t,’ Courage had told her. ‘I need to go home to change my clothes.’
‘Well, I can’t offer to lend you any of mine,’ Jenny had chuckled. ‘You can’t be more than size ten and I’m a good sixteen.’
So far Gideon had said nothing about Alfonso’s replacement, but it had given Courage a great deal of quiet satisfaction this evening to see the surprised approval with which Gideon’s Kuwaiti guests had reacted to the appearance on the dinner table of the Kuwaiti dishes she and Jenny had chosen.
The coffee-pot had been drained, too, of its thick dark coffee—only a raised eyebrow from Gideon signifying any reaction to the fact that he had been provided with his own pot of his preferred blend of coffee.
‘Why don’t you come in a bit later in the morning?’ Jenny had suggested, when Courage had told her that she would stay on to see to things.
‘I wish.’ Courage had grinned ruefully. ‘No, I’ll be here before seven, as usual. There shouldn’t be any problem with the breakfasts, but just in case…’
Now, picking up her bag, Courage headed for the door, pausing to turn round and snap off the light as she opened it.
The sound of someone walking towards her made the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
She turned round warily, her heart thudding against her ribs as she recognised Gideon’s tall frame emerging from the shadows beyond the corridor.
‘Still here?’ He frowned as he looked at her, before checking the time on his watch. ‘It’s gone two…’
‘I didn’t want to leave until your guests had gone to bed,’ she told him.
His eyebrows lifted. ‘That’s taking devotion to duty a bit far, isn’t it?’
‘It’s part of my job,’ Courage pointed out calmly to him, but the effect of her businesslike statement was spoiled by the unexpected yawn she couldn’t quite control.
‘You’re not intending to drive home, are you?’ she heard Gideon demand curtly.
‘It only takes half an hour,’ she responded. ‘And the roads will be quiet.’
She had obviously said the wrong thing, because his mouth had thinned ominously. Without another word he turned on his heel and headed for his office.
Smothering another yawn, Courage walked towards the hallway and the front door. She was just about to open it when she saw Gideon crossing the hallway.
When he opened the door for her, at first she thought he was simply anxious to see her off the premises and set the alarm, but then she realised that he
was following her outside.
‘This way,’ he told her peremptorily when she would have headed for her own car, gesturing instead to the Range Rover parked several yards away from it.
Uncertainly Courage stared at him.
‘Get in,’ he told her as he unlocked the passenger door for her. ‘There’s no way you’re in any fit state to drive,’ he added flatly. ‘You’re damn near asleep as it is…’ His mouth compressed again, leaving her in no doubt as to how he viewed her overtired state—she was a responsibility he would quite plainly rather not have had.
‘It’s all right. I’m perfectly able to drive,’ she told him defensively, but he was obviously not going to listen to her, and to judge from the impatient snort of disbelief her defiance had received he was perfectly capable of physically putting her in the Range Rover if she refused to get in willingly.
Uncomfortably she walked towards it. He had no need to look so angry with her, she decided crossly. She wasn’t the one who was insisting that she needed driving home… Tired though she knew she was, she was perfectly capable of driving.
So capable, in fact, that as she moved to get into the Range Rover she could hardly lift her feet high enough to make the first step.
Her whole body flushed with mortification as she heard another impatient mutter from Gideon.
The house’s security lights had flooded the gravel parking area with bright light, but there was still some-thing about the intimacy of being alone with him in the middle of the night that was making her heart pound far too fast… Or was that simply tiredness?
‘Here…’ she heard him saying curtly, and before she could stop him she felt him virtually lifting her into the Range Rover. His hands were either side of her waist, his fingertips fanning out right up to her ribcage so that he must be able to feel the frantic, erratic thud of her heart.