She gave him a mocking glance. ‘When did you last see a psychiatrist?’
He grinned. ‘Oh, I’m completely sane, I do assure you,’ he murmured dryly. ‘At least, I’m sure I was before coming here,’ he muttered frowningly.
‘Sorry?’ She eyed him curiously.
‘Never mind,’ Will dismissed impatiently. ‘Let’s look at the menu, hmm?’ he suggested briskly, promptly putting his own menu up in front of his face.
In truth, March was really quite pleased at this unexpected treat, couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten out in a restaurant. Although there was one thing the two of them had better get straight…
‘The answer is no,’ Will bit out implacably after ordering a bottle of red wine to accompany the steaks they had both ordered.
March’s eyes widened. ‘I wasn’t aware that I had asked a question,’ she snapped.
His mouth twisted humorously. ‘You weren’t going to ask a question—you were about to make a statement. Am I wrong?’ He quirked mocking brows, knowing he wasn’t by the irritated flush that rose in her cheeks.
She scowled. ‘I hate my see-through face!’
Will found himself laughing once again; no one could ever claim that March Calendar wasn’t entertaining! ‘Then you’re in the minority,’ he assured her softly.
She shook her head self-disgustedly. ‘When I was little, my father always knew when I had done something wrong just from looking at me!’
She would have been adorable as a child, all the Calendar sisters would, Will acknowledged ruefully. But again he noticed that March hadn’t mentioned her mother…
‘Have the three of you been on your own for very long?’ he prompted casually, surprised himself at how interested he was in the answer. At how interested he was becoming in anything that involved March Calendar!
She shrugged. ‘Our father died last year. And we were all only babies when our mother—oh, no, you don’t,’ she rebuked decisively. ‘No diverting me from what I was about to say earlier,’ she told him firmly. ‘If we’re to have lunch together, and it appears that we are,’ she accepted ruefully, ‘then I insist on paying my share of the bill—’
‘And I already said no,’ Will reminded her calmly, a little disappointed that they had gone off the subject of her childhood and family, but accepting that he couldn’t have everything his own way. Especially where March was concerned!
Although he had very much enjoyed kissing her earlier. In fact, he couldn’t ever remember enjoying kissing any other woman as much. She had felt so right in his arms, and as for the effect holding and kissing her had had on his senses…!
Although that kiss was probably a subject he shouldn’t refer to, either. March might have had little choice but to acquiesce earlier, but no doubt there were a few things she would like to say on the subject if given the chance!
He leant over the table, talking softly. ‘March, men who drive Ferraris do not go Dutch with a woman on lunch. Okay?’ he said pointedly.
It had come home to him very forcefully the previous evening that the Calendar sisters, while not exactly impoverished, certainly didn’t have too much money to throw around; he doubted March, at least, would have agreed to rent the studio to him, or indeed anyone else, for a couple of weeks if she didn’t have to. There was no way that he, with his own accumulated wealth, could possibly agree to March paying for half the lunch he had insisted she share with him.
‘It really is a Ferrari?’ she surprised him by saying.
He smiled. ‘It really is.’
‘Wow,’ she breathed admiringly.
His brows rose. ‘You like sports cars?’
‘I like Clive believing I’m having lunch with a man who owns one!’ Her eyes glowed mischievously.
Will couldn’t help chuckling at her obvious glee at feeling she had put one over on her lecherous boss. Although his smile faded somewhat as he remembered the way the other man had stood so close to March earlier, almost as if he were stating some sort of proprietary claim on her…
‘March—’
‘Just leave it, hmm, Will,’ she said firmly, sitting back as the waiter arrived to pour their wine. ‘I’m more than capable of dealing with Clive,’ she assured him dismissively once they were alone again.
Will didn’t like the thought of her having to deal with the other man, had an intense dislike for predatory males who took advantage of the women who worked for them. One predatory male in particular!
‘What is it?’ he prompted as he saw March was frowning now.
Her smile, when it came, seemed slightly forced. ‘Nothing,’ she dismissed lightly.
He didn’t believe her. ‘It doesn’t look like nothing to me,’ he insisted firmly.
She seemed about to argue the point once again, and then gave a heavy sigh instead. ‘You’re in business, aren’t you?’ she prompted slowly.
Will felt himself stiffen defensively. ‘I am,’ he confirmed warily.
‘Hmm.’ March seemed not to notice his reticence, her thoughts inwards as she ran a finger around the rim of her wineglass. ‘Well, is it illegal to buy something, for less than its value, in order that you can sell that—product on a few weeks later, at a hefty profit?’
‘I would say that probably depends on what that—product, is,’ he answered slowly. ‘And if you deliberately set out to defraud the original seller by knowing the product was undervalued.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ She sighed heavily, obviously not particularly liking his answer.
‘I wouldn’t try it if I were you, March—your face would give you away!’ he added teasingly.
She looked across at him blankly for several moments, and then her brow cleared, her expression indignant now. ‘I wasn’t talking about me!’ she protested impatiently.
‘Somehow I didn’t think so.’ He chuckled.
‘Hmm. Well—’ she frowned her irritation ‘—talking of business—’
‘Ah, our lunch,’ Will murmured with satisfaction as he sat back to allow the waitress to put the plates down on the table.
His relief at the interruption was due to two things. One, he was hungry. Two, he had no intention of pursuing the subject of his own business with March Calendar, of all people. He might end up with this delicious-looking lunch tipped over his head if he did that!
Although, as they began to eat their meal, he couldn’t help feeling intrigued by her previous conversation. Who did March know who was defrauding people out of their money? Because he was pretty certain that she did know someone who was…
CHAPTER FIVE
‘YOU had lunch with who?’ May prompted speculatively as the two women sat and enjoyed a cup of tea together on March’s return home from work that evening.
‘You heard,’ March muttered into her teacup, having decided it would be better for her to tell her sister about her lunch with Will today rather than have him perhaps drop it casually into the conversation at a later date.
‘Very nice it was too,’ she added lightly. ‘I had almost forgotten what a nice steak tastes like.’
Obviously they never went short of food living and working on the farm, but such luxuries as fillet steak weren’t usually on their menu.
Although one thing March had decided not to tell May; she had no intention of confiding in her sister about the kiss she had shared with Will.
She was still slightly shaken by her own response to that kiss. After all, what did any of them know about Will Davenport? Apart from the fact that he was good-looking, charming, and was obviously wealthy enough to drive an expensive sports car!
March still had no idea whether he was married or not. Although somehow she doubted it; he had certainly frowned on Clive’s behaviour of trying to take advantage of his position as her employer.
But, despite several attempts on her part to introduce the subject during their lunch today, March had found out nothing further about Will’s private life. Or, indeed, what exactly he was doing in the area.
/> ‘Well, that was nice of him.’ May nodded. ‘Uncle Sid said he saw Will’s car over near Hanworth Estate this afternoon,’ she added thoughtfully. ‘I wonder what he was doing there?’
March was about to explain that Will had initially said this was the area he needed to be in, when a sudden thought occurred to her, her eyes widening in horror as the thought took root.
That horror only increased as she saw the same thought had occurred to May, her sister’s face suddenly pale, her expression stricken. ‘You don’t suppose—’
‘Do you think—?’ Both sisters had begun to talk at once, both breaking off at the same time too, March’s thoughts racing as she went back over the conversations she had had with Will since his arrival yesterday.
Yesterday? Was it really only a little over twenty-four hours since Will had entered their lives? It seemed like much longer!
It also seemed to March, as she remembered their conversations with him, that Will had found out a lot more about all of the Calendar sisters during that short time than they had about him…!
March’s eyes narrowed as her original thought expanded and grew, to the point where she stood up restlessly to move to the kitchen window, glaring across the yard to where she could see the lights on above the garage to announce Will’s presence in the studio.
‘He’s another one of them,’ she bit out with sudden certainty, her hands clenching at her sides. ‘Another one of Jude Marshall’s henchmen! A wolf in sheep’s clothing. Nothing but a snake in the grass!’ She was building herself up to a rage now. ‘Why, I’ve a good mind to—’
‘We don’t know that, March,’ May soothed as she also stood up to look out of the window, green gaze narrowed speculatively across the yard. ‘Although…’ she added slowly.
‘Exactly—although!’ March snapped furiously. ‘Another lawyer, do you think? Or something else?’ Somehow she couldn’t see Will as a lawyer. Max, yes, with his reserved aloofness, but Will was more outgoing than her younger sister’s fiancé.
Max…
He would be sure to know if Will worked for Jude Marshall too; after all, until just recently, he had worked for the man himself.
It had been Max’s efforts to buy their farm on Jude Marshall’s behalf that had brought him into their lives in the first place. It had been falling in love with their younger sister, January, that had decided him that he was no longer suited to that sort of work.
But Max was in the Caribbean with January for two weeks, and March very much doubted that either of them were going to think of telephoning home during that time!
But if Will wasn’t another of Jude Marshall’s lawyers, what position did he hold in that corporation? Because March was pretty sure now that he was something!
‘Something else,’ May confirmed. ‘Although we can’t really be sure about that.’ She hesitated.
‘We can if we ask him,’ March stated, moving with determined strides towards the kitchen door.
‘No, I don’t think we should do that,’ May said slowly, halting March as she reached for the door-handle. ‘Let’s wait a while, hmm.’ She frowned. ‘See what else develops.’
‘Like what?’ March turned to challenge. ‘We’ve already had Max creeping about trying to buy the farm out from under our noses. It isn’t funny, May,’ she reproved as her sister began to chuckle.
‘Sorry.’ May made an attempt to curtail her humour.
‘I was just trying to picture our future brother-in-law “creeping” about anywhere!’
‘Hmm.’ March gave a rueful smile too at the image her sister created. ‘I would love to see Jude Marshall’s face when Max gets back from this holiday and tells him what he can do with his job!’ she added with glee.
May shook her head. ‘The two men are friends, March; I don’t think Max will be as blunt as that. But you’re right about seeing Jude Marshall’s face.’ She frowned. ‘Personally, I would like nothing more than to meet the man face to face!’
‘But, in the meantime, what do we do about our snake-in-the-grass lodger?’ March reminded pointedly.
‘Well, until we’re sure—March, where are you going?’ Her sister frowned as March picked up a cup and moved to the door.
She paused. ‘To borrow a cup of sugar. Isn’t that the usual excuse women use when they want to meet a man?’ She raised innocent brows.
‘You’ve been watching too many romantic films,’ May admonished dryly. ‘Besides, we’ve already met him,’ she reminded.
March had done more than meet the man—she had kissed him, and been kissed by him. And if he really was what they suspected, he was going to regret taking advantage of that particular situation himself!
‘So I meet him again.’ She shrugged dismissively. ‘I won’t be long,’ she added lightly before letting herself out of the house and moving swiftly through the cold of early evening to ascend the steps up the side of the garage and knock on the studio door.
Will did work for the Marshall Corporation, March was sure of it. And if that were the case, then he had known exactly who the Calendar sisters were before coming into the estate agency yesterday. In fact, she wouldn’t put it past him to have engineered the whole thing!
The fact that she had been the one to send him here was irrelevant; if Will hadn’t originally intended actually renting a property on their land, he had definitely jumped at the chance when it had been offered to him.
Yes, March now had no doubts that Will worked for Jude Marshall. Or that she was personally going to make him regret the day he had ever tried to deceive them!
Will was going over some figures as he sat at the table when the knock sounded on the door. He deftly rolled the papers up and put them away in a cupboard before answering that knock, knowing his visitor had to be one of the Calendar sisters; after all, apart from Jude, they were the only ones who knew he was here.
He burst out laughing as the light shining out of the open doorway revealed it was March standing on the top step, an empty cup in her hand. ‘You look like Oliver, about to ask for some more,’ he explained as she glared up at him.
She gave him a scathing glance. ‘I’ve come to ask if we can borrow some sugar,’ she told him waspishly. ‘We’ve run out.’
‘Certainly.’ He smiled, holding the door open wider so that she could come inside. ‘You’re in luck; I’ve been food shopping today,’ he told her as he rifled through one of the cupboards in search of the required sugar.
‘Really? What else have you done today?’
Will gave her a brief glance over his shoulder. There was a certain brittleness to March’s voice that wasn’t normally there; caustic, cutting, derisive, yes, but never brittle before. He wondered at the reason for it.
She returned his gaze steadily, one dark brow raised in challenge.
She had changed out of her business suit since returning from work, and now wore hip- and leg-hugging blue denims, with a deep green fitted sweater that brought out the same colour in those beautiful grey-green eyes.
Will felt a tightness across his chest as he looked at her, caught in that same lightning desire that had tautened other parts of his body earlier today when he’d kissed her.
He turned away abruptly. ‘Here we are.’ He brought down the sugar, the lightness in his voice sounding forced even to his own ears.
‘Thanks,’ March accepted as he poured some into the cup.
Looking more like the vulnerable Oliver than ever, Will acknowledged self-disgustedly, knowing that no one needed—or wanted!—his protection less than the feisty March Calendar.
‘Was that all?’ he prompted pointedly as she made no effort to leave.
‘Am I keeping you from something?’ March enquired lightly—at the same time making herself comfortable on one of the two chairs set either side of the small pine table provided for eating on.
‘Not at all,’ Will answered slowly, still eyeing her warily.
There was definitely something different about her this evening. Normally she ha
d such a readable face, leading him to the correct assumption that she usually called a spade a spade, and to hell with everything else. Usually… Because, unless Will was mistaken, she was hiding something tonight with that too-innocent expression.
‘Thanks again for lunch, by the way,’ she told him in that tightly clipped voice. ‘I hope I didn’t keep you from anything this afternoon?’
He leant back against one of the two kitchen units, his own gaze guarded now. ‘Nothing of any importance,’ he assured her dismissively. ‘And it’s I who should be thanking you for your company over lunch; there’s nothing worse than sitting in a restaurant eating on your own.’ Something he had done a lot of over the last ten years or so.
She gave a rueful grimace. ‘So there was a method in your madness, after all,’ she scorned. ‘I should have known!’
‘Why should you?’ he returned easily, still uncertain of her mood.
Which was a little unsettling in March’s case; it was unusual to meet anyone who showed their feelings—and spoke them—as clearly she did!
She gave a shrug. ‘I knew it couldn’t have just been gallantry on your part.’
He raised blond brows. ‘You don’t believe I can be gallant?’
March gave a derisive smile. ‘There are very few men around nowadays that are!’
Will gave her a considering look. She seemed to be angry about something, that much he could tell. But whether or not that anger was directed at him—for whatever reason!—he wasn’t sure yet…
‘Would you like a cup of coffee, or possibly a glass of wine, now you’re here?’ he offered lightly, guessing by the way she had sat down so determinedly that she wasn’t about to leave just yet.
‘No, thanks, I’ve just had a cup of tea,’ she refused stiltedly.
Almost as if drinking his coffee or wine might choke her. Will wasn’t sure what was going on, but something certainly was.
He moved to sit in the chair opposite hers. ‘What sort of man was your father?’ he prompted curiously.
The Unwilling Mistress Page 5