But if May were to disappear for some time in order to make a film, that probably explained the current rift between the sisters concerning the selling of the farm. It was a start, at least…
‘It isn’t official yet.’ May looked extremely uncomfortable. ‘I have to go for a screen test next month—’
‘A mere technicality,’ March dismissed airily. ‘You’re going to walk through it,’ she added with certainty. ‘My sister is an extremely good actress,’ she told Will proudly.
Something March, with her see-through face, could never be!
From the derisive smile March now directed at him he wasn’t doing too good a job of hiding his own thoughts at the moment, either!
‘Sorry.’ But even as he made the apology he couldn’t hold back his amused chuckle.
‘No, you’re not,’ March acknowledged disgustedly, standing up to clear away the empty plates.
Will stood up too, moving across the kitchen to where March stood filling up the sink with soapy water. ‘If I offer to help with the washing-up will I be forgiven?’ he prompted huskily.
‘Knowing how much March hates washing up—I wouldn’t be at all surprised!’ May was the one to answer him dryly.
But Will barely heard her reply, his breath suddenly caught in his chest as he found himself held mesmerized by March’s luminous grey-green gaze as she turned to look up at him.
Her skin was like alabaster, smooth and creamy white, her mouth wide and sensuous, her neck arched with the delicacy of a swan, the baggy green jumper and fitted black denims she wore doing nothing to hide the allure of her slender body. A body he had been completely aware of from the moment he’d entered the farmhouse half an hour ago…
Once again Will found himself wondering if this was the way it had been for Max. A sudden, driving desire, a numbing of every other sense and sensation except this intense, spine-tingling awareness—
No!
Will wrenched his gaze away from March’s, physically stepping away from her too, turning his back on her to further break the spell of sensuality that had briefly held him in its grip.
Will, Max and Jude had been at school together, losing touch briefly as they all went off to university to pursue their chosen careers, but those same careers renewing their friendship ten or so years ago. Now, at thirty-seven, despite having enjoyed numerous relationships, none of them had ever married. Somehow, after all this time, Will had assumed that none of them ever would. But Max, the one Will would have sworn was the least likely of the three friends to succumb, had fallen in love with the youngest Calendar sister.
Will did not intend falling into the same trap where March Calendar was concerned!
He drew in a harsh breath. ‘Could I take a rain check on the apple pie?’ he bit out tautly, deliberately speaking to May rather than March. ‘I’ve just realized I have an important telephone call to make.’
‘So much for helping with the washing-up!’ March muttered behind him disgustedly.
It was a little ungrateful of him, he knew, but he needed to get away from here, needed to get some fresh air. Needed to clear his head, and his senses, of March Calendar!
‘Take the pie with you,’ May offered warmly, moving to pick the pie up off the side and place it in his hands.
‘Hey, I like apple pie, too!’ March protested.
‘Will is our guest, March.’ May turned to her sister warningly before giving Will a bright smile. ‘I often think I failed miserably where instilling manners into March was concerned!’ She gave a sorrowful shake of her head.
Once again Will felt himself being drawn into the warmth that was the Calendar sisters, his good humour returning as he smiled at May. ‘March does have a point when she actually made the pie,’ he murmured with a derisive grin in her direction.
‘Oh, take it,’ March dismissed impatiently. ‘You probably don’t have to worry about the calories, anyway!’ she added disgustedly.
Neither did she if the willowy sensuousness of her body was anything to go by—
Not again. Will shook his head self-disgustedly. Okay, so March was beautiful, was quirky and outspoken too, as well as having a curvaceously sensuous body, but was that any reason for him to respond to her with the gaucheness of a callow schoolboy?
No, but it was reason for him to get himself out of here before he did something he would later regret—like kiss that derisive smile right off her pouting lips!
‘I’m afraid there’s no telephone in the studio,’ May pointed out worriedly. ‘But you can use the one here if—’
‘Why doesn’t he just move in here completely? We can charge him bed and breakfast prices then!’ March put in scathingly.
Will’s lips twitched with repressed humour as he saw the way May winced at her younger sister’s bluntness. March really was irrepressible.
And, despite her obvious despair at March’s lack of manners, May was obviously staunchly protective of both her sisters. Making Will wonder how on earth Max, with his reserved haughtiness, had ever got the two older Calendar sisters’ approval to marry their younger sister!
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Will answered smilingly.
‘I have a mobile in the car.’
‘Well, of course you do,’ March snapped derisively.
‘How silly of us not to have realized that.’
May gave a weary shake of her head, obviously deciding that the best thing to do for the moment was to just give up apologizing for March’s lack of manners. ‘Enjoy the pie, Will,’ she murmured ruefully. ‘And if there’s anything else you need, more towels, things like that, you have only to ask.’
‘We’ll send one of the maids over with it immediately,’ March muttered disparagingly.
Will could see by the sudden fire that lit May’s gaze that she wasn’t always the calm, sensible sister, that she could be cutting herself when she felt it necessary. And he had a feeling that she would feel it necessary, where March was concerned, the moment he had gone out the door!
Which was a pity; he really didn’t want to be the reason for any dissent between the two sisters. Even if March deserved it!
‘This pie looks delicious, March, thanks,’ he told her warmly.
She frowned at him suspiciously, but as he calmly returned her gaze that frown eased from between her eyes. ‘You’re welcome,’ she finally murmured lightly.
‘Thanks for dinner, May, it was great.’ Will lingered in the doorway, having absolutely no idea why he was having such trouble getting out of the kitchen now that it was time to go—especially as it was his own decision to do so!
‘Don’t forget to return the compliment,’ March was the one to remind him pointedly.
He hadn’t forgotten his earlier suggestion, Will acknowledged a little dazedly as he made his way back across the yard to the studio—he was just no longer sure he could cope with taking one Calendar sister out to dinner, let alone two!
He felt slightly disorientated after being with them for less than an hour, slightly dazed, as if he had drunk too much wine in a smoke-filled room—how on earth was he going to feel after spending an evening with them?
One thing he did know, he would have to clear his head before making his telephone call to Jude. A Jude, Will knew with certainty, who was going to be far from happy at Max’s obvious defection to the enemy camp…
CHAPTER FOUR
‘IT’S only lunch I’m suggesting, March, not an afternoon in a hotel bedroom!’ Clive looked down at her mockingly as he perched on the edge of her desk.
March knew exactly what the male half of her employers was inviting her to—she also knew he wouldn’t have made the suggestion about the two of them having lunch together if Michelle weren’t out for the day showing a client over several different properties. Besides, she also knew that if Clive thought he could get away with it he would have no hesitation in taking her to a hotel bedroom for the afternoon!
While March was normally blunt to the point of rudeness—as Will Davenpor
t had discovered to his cost the previous evening!—Clive’s attentions over the last six months, whenever Michelle had been out of the office, were something March hadn’t liked to tell her sisters about. There was nothing anyone could do about it, and they needed the money she earned from this full-time job. Besides, she doubted she was the first employee to suffer this sort of harassment.
It wasn’t even that Clive was unattractive, because he wasn’t; the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, with an easy charm as an added bonus. He just also happened to have been living with Michelle, the other half of this estate agency, for the last ten years!
‘I said no, Clive,’ she answered him calmly enough, grey-green gaze glacial as she glared her annoyance at him. For all the good it did. She had been saying no for the last six months, but it didn’t stop Clive from repeating the offer whenever the chance arose. ‘You know very well we can’t just shut up shop for a couple of hours and disappear off to lunch,’ she dismissed briskly. ‘Besides, I—I already have a date for lunch,’ she added with relief, having looked out of the window at that moment and seen a familiar red sports car drive slowly into the square.
Will Davenport’s car, with him sitting confidently behind the wheel as he found a parking space directly behind March’s more serviceable Metro. He gave her a friendly wave as he got out of the car and saw her watching him out of the window.
‘If you’ll excuse me.’ March stood up hurriedly, moving quickly to open the door and call out to Will before he could lock his car and just walk away. ‘I’ll be out in a minute, Will,’ she called out to him lightly, willing him to wait for her.
He turned, a puzzled frown on that handsome face. ‘Sorry?’ He looked totally nonplussed.
‘I’m just getting my coat,’ she told him firmly, aware that Clive had come to stand beside her in the doorway now, a knowing smile curving his lips as he took in the car and the man driving it.
Will turned his cool blue gaze on Clive Carter, that gaze narrowing as he obviously saw the other man’s too familiar stance next to March, his arm resting against the door behind her. ‘No hurry,’ Will answered in measured tones. ‘I’ll come inside and wait for you,’ he added with another speculative glance at Clive.
That wasn’t quite what she had wanted, March realized flusteredly as she made a quick grab for her coat and handbag; having these two men size each other up in silent appraisal was more than a little unnerving. Especially as she could now clearly see the speculation in Clive’s mocking grey eyes.
‘Nice car,’ he murmured softly. ‘A Ferrari, isn’t it?’
A Ferrari? March did a mental double-take on Will herself now. Okay, so she had realized it was a sporty-looking car, but all she basically required from a car was that it start up in the morning when she needed to get to work. But Ferraris cost tens of thousands of pounds, didn’t they? Maybe there was more to Will Davenport than she had realized!
‘Let’s go,’ she said decisively, grabbing hold of Will’s arm to almost pull him outside. ‘Walk!’ she instructed once on the pavement, lips barely moving. ‘And try to look happy about the prospect of taking me out to lunch!’ she added as he simply stood looking down at her with mocking blue eyes.
‘Certainly,’ Will gave a derisive inclination of his head. ‘As for happy…’ He gave March no time to respond to his original comment as he bent his head, his lips taking possession of hers.
Well, there was happy and then there was happy…!
At that precise moment March felt so light-headed she didn’t know what she felt, Will’s mouth making a thorough exploration of her own, his arms firm about the slenderness of her waist.
If he was trying to impress upon Clive the fact that he was the one taking her out to lunch, he was obviously succeeding. If he was trying to render the usually voluble March speechless then he was succeeding in doing that too!
The softness of her body curved into Will’s as if it were the other half of the hard contours of his, that silver-blond hair as soft and silky to the touch as she had imagined it would be—
As she had imagined it would be—!
Since when had she imagined touching any part of Will Davenport, let alone entangling her fingers in the thick softness of his hair as his lips sipped and tasted the softness of hers?
March pulled away from him abruptly, her gaze not quite meeting his as she stepped completely away from him. What on earth—
‘Too “happy”?’ he murmured teasingly.
Her head snapped up defensively, eyes flashing with anger. ‘Let’s just go, shall we?’ she bit out furiously as she took a firm hold of Will’s arm, knowing from her peripheral vision that Clive was still watching them as he stood in the doorway of the agency.
‘Certainly, madam.’ Will gave a mocking inclination of his head. ‘Exactly where is it we’re going?’ he bent down to ask March conspiratorially as she almost frog-marched him along the pavement towards the busier high street of town.
March didn’t even bother to answer him until they had turned the corner—and were safely away from Clive’s curious gaze. Then she came to an abrupt halt, looking up at Will with glittering grey-green eyes. ‘We aren’t going anywhere—now,’ she assured him firmly. ‘You were obviously on your way somewhere else when you arrived, and I—’
‘Yes—you?’ Will prompted softly, a frown between his eyes now.
She felt the heat in her cheeks. ‘I am on my way somewhere else, too,’ she told him waspishly, still off balance from the kiss they had just shared. It might have been for Clive’s benefit, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been affected by it.
Affected by it! Her legs still felt slightly wobbly, her breathing was erratic, and her lips tingled from the touch of Will’s.
Will glanced briefly back in the direction they had just come from. ‘Was he bothering you?’ he prompted shrewdly.
She forced a derisive smile to her lips. ‘Of course not,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘And even if he was,’ she added resentfully as Will raised a sceptical brow, ‘I happen to need the job.’
His mouth thinned. ‘At the price of sexual harassment?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she snapped irritably. ‘Clive just likes to believe that every woman within a fifty-mile radius thinks he’s God’s gift to women,’ she scorned. ‘It doesn’t mean anything.’
Will didn’t look convinced. ‘It looked like something to me,’ he rasped.
‘Well, it wasn’t,’ March insisted impatiently. ‘Now please don’t let me keep you any longer from whatever it was you came here to do.’ She placed the strap of her bag very firmly on her shoulder, turning away.
His hand moved, his fingers curling firmly about her upper arm. ‘At the moment I intend taking you out to lunch,’ he told her determinedly, eyes narrowed as he glanced up the high street for a suitable eating place. ‘Where would you recommend?’ he prompted tersely.
‘The White Swan will serve you an excellent lunch—’ she nodded in the direction of the hotel across the road ‘—but for myself, I intend taking my sandwiches—’ she pointedly took a foil-wrapped package from her handbag ‘—and sitting in the park for half an hour while I eat them,’ she told him ruefully.
He grimaced. ‘In this weather?’
Granted it was still January, and it had snowed yesterday, but that snow had already melted, and the wind wasn’t too icy.
‘In any weather,’ she answered him dryly. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers,’ she added caustically as she could see Will remained unconvinced.
But what was the point of earning every penny she could working, only to waste some of it on buying lunch, when she could just as easily bring sandwiches from home?
‘My treat,’ Will told her evenly, his hand tightening on her arm, his gaze narrowed as he negotiated the traffic as they crossed the road to the hotel.
‘Will—’
‘You don’t want to make a liar out of both of us, do you?’ He looked steadily down at her as she came to a stubborn halt
on the pavement outside the hotel.
March gave a rueful smile as she shook her head. ‘We both know you hadn’t really arranged to take me out to lunch—’
‘I have now,’ Will cut in determinedly, easily pulling her along with him as they entered the hotel restaurant from the outside door, the warmth inside inviting, a lot of the tables already occupied.
‘Will, this is ridiculous,’ March continued to protest as a waitress showed them to a table in the window. ‘I only said that earlier about the two of us having lunch because I—because I—’
‘Yes?’ He raised blond brows speculatively as he waited for her to sit down.
She gave a heavy sigh. ‘Okay, so Clive was being a nuisance. But that’s still no reason for you to have me foisted on you for lunch,’ she added impatiently.
‘Sit,’ Will instructed firmly as he pulled her chair back for her.
By this time March could see that they were attracting a certain amount of attention; several other diners watching them curiously even as they made a pretence of eating their meal.
March sat—but only as a means of diverting attention away from the obvious difference of opinion between Will and herself.
‘Woof,’ she muttered pointedly beneath her breath, shooting Will a disgruntled look beneath lowered lashes.
Will grinned as he sat down opposite her. ‘Woof, woof,’ he came back laughingly.
March found herself returning that boyish smile. ‘I really do feel awful for having put you in this position.’ She made one last attempt to give him the opportunity to extract himself from feeling pressured into having lunch with her.
Will laughed outright at this comment. ‘Tell me, March, have you looked in a mirror lately?’
‘Sorry?’ She frowned her confusion at what seemed like a complete change of subject.
He shook his head impatiently. ‘March Calendar, you are a beautiful and desirable woman—no man in his right mind would accept he had ever had your company “foisted” on him!’
The Unwilling Mistress Page 4