‘Yes, I noticed,’ she told him in such a heartfelt voice that he was forced to laugh.
Lowering her carefully onto the cork-topped stool, he slipped off her sandals and removed the wet bandage before asking, ‘Need any help with the rest?’
‘No, no, I can manage,’ she assured him hastily.
‘Then when I’ve pulled down the blind I’ll leave you to it.’
At the door he paused to say, ‘If you look in the cupboard there, you’ll find a good supply of towels and a couple of robes.’
Stripping off her saturated clothes, Caris dropped them into the sink then, turning on the shower, she stepped in carefully. When the hot water cascaded over her, dispelling the chill, she gave a little sigh of relief.
But by the time she had borrowed shampoo and washed her hair she was starting to feel guilty. Zander too would be cold and wet and would need a shower, and it was all her fault. If she’d kept her mind on what she was doing instead of indulging in erotic fantasies …
Having towelled herself and dried her hair as quickly as she could, she reached for one of the fleecy robes and pulled it on. It came down almost to her ankles and the shoulders were much too wide, but it felt snug and warm, and when she had rolled up the sleeves it became quite wearable.
She wrung out her clothes as best she could, but still they dripped, so she left them in the sink and limped back to the living room.
The fire was blazing merrily and a pot of coffee was bubbling away on top of the stove, the fragrant aroma filling the air.
Zander was putting milk and coffee mugs on the table, his shirt plastered to him, his trouser-legs clinging to his thighs and calves.
Flustered by the situation she found herself in, and only too aware of her nakedness beneath the robe, Caris hovered uncertainly.
When he glanced up, she said jerkily, ‘I’m done. The bathroom’s all yours.’
‘Feeling better?’
‘Much better, thank you.’
‘How’s the ankle?’
‘Fine, so long as I’m careful. I’m sorry,’ she added apologetically. ‘But I wasn’t sure what to do about my wet clothes.’
‘I’ll deal with them as soon as I’ve had a shower,’ he promised. ‘In the meantime, why don’t you come and sit by the fire and have some coffee?’
As soon as she was settled in one of the cushioned armchairs, a mug of coffee in her hand, Zander disappeared into the bathroom.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE cooking grill on top of the stove had been opened to let out more heat, and the room was getting comfortably warm. She noticed that their sodden footwear had been stuffed with paper and propped up against the fender to dry.
It was becoming clear that Zander was both efficient and practical.
The daylight had died and was giving way to dusk as she drank her coffee, sitting, staring into the leaping flames while her thoughts went back over the day she had just spent with him.
It had been a wonderfully happy day, a day she would always remember. Though nothing really momentous or earth-shaking had happened, somehow she felt as if it had.
There had been a bubbling excitement, an awareness of him, that had brought her to life and made all her senses jewel-bright. And right from the word go there had been that strong physical attraction, an attraction she had found difficult to hide.
Perhaps it was simply that her body had grown tired of celibacy and she was responding to a handsome and virile male like any healthy young female?
When she had lived at home, her father had scared away any would-be boyfriends. During her later years at university she had steered clear of the opposite sex, giving as a reason her need to work hard and study.
But it had been more than that.
At eighteen, free for the first time from her father’s restrictions, and desperately naive, she had fallen madly in love with a fellow student.
Karl, who had been in his final year, was a charming, blond-haired Lothario from a wealthy and aristocratic family.
All the female students had flocked round him, desperate to attract his attention, while Caris had stayed quietly in the background and worshipped him from afar.
She had been stunned, bowled over, when he had singled her out. And when he’d started dating her she had thought herself the luckiest girl alive.
But once he had seduced her his interest had quickly waned, and he had moved on to the next conquest, leaving her heartbroken.
Only in retrospect did she realize that her heart was still intact and untouched. It was her pride and self-respect that had been flayed.
Still the whole thing had left her sadder and wiser, and not a little bitter about what she saw as her own stupidity.
Ignoring her body’s needs, she had thrown up a defensive wall and retired safely behind it.
Until now …
But Zander was also a charming Lothario from a wealthy and aristocratic family, so unless she wanted to repeat her earlier mistake she must stay behind that defensive wall …
The bathroom latch clicked and Zander reappeared, startling Caris out of her reverie. His hair was still damp from the shower and he wore an identical robe to hers, though his fitted a good deal better.
Carrying a pile of wet garments, he vanished towards the kitchen, saying over his shoulder, ‘I’ll see how soon I can get these ready to wear.’
Through the partly open door she heard a click and a faint, continuous hum as the dryer got under way.
A moment later he reappeared and, having turned on the lights and drawn the curtains, remarked, ‘I’m afraid it’s going to be a somewhat lengthy process; you must be getting hungry?’
‘I’m beginning to,’ she admitted.
‘Then I suggest we change our plans and have supper before we start back. In the meantime would you like another coffee?’
When she refused, he poured himself one, dropped into the chair opposite, leaned back, bare feet crossed negligently at the ankles, and stretched towards the blaze.
As he moved his position, his robe fell away a little, giving a glimpse of firm lower thighs. Though he was perfectly decent, Caris was very aware of his nakedness and felt a sensual heat start to run through her; she looked hastily away.
Studiously keeping her eyes down, she saw that his calves were strong, straight and muscular, with a fine scattering of golden hair; his feet were well-shaped with neatly trimmed nails.
She found herself staring at them. Never before had she thought of feet as being anything other than useful, but his were pleasing to look at, fascinating, even.
Tearing her gaze away only with an effort, she glanced up, straight into green eyes that held a gleam of amusement.
He put his empty coffee mug on the table. His face straight, he remarked, ‘Fascinating things, feet, wouldn’t you say?’
Feeling a complete fool because he’d picked up her own word as if he’d been reading her thoughts, she lied, ‘I was just staring into space rather than looking at anything in particular.’
Then, only too aware that she was blushing furiously and desperate to change the subject, she harked back. ‘I still haven’t thanked you properly for jumping in to help me.’
He grinned. ‘I was about to say any time, but perhaps that wouldn’t be tactful.’
Deciding to plough on, she apologized, ‘I’m really sorry to have caused you so much trouble.’
‘It was no trouble. Accidents will happen.’ Half-seriously, he went on, ‘I just hope it hasn’t put you off boats for life.’
‘Certainly not. But it has taught me a valuable lesson: the next time I go in a boat I shall be a great deal more careful.’
Saluting her spirited answer, he remarked, ‘Well, that’s no bad thing. Now, about ready to eat?’
‘I’m ready when you are.’
‘Good.’ He rose to his feet. ‘There’s a selection of meals that won’t take long to heat in the microwave, so if you want to come and take a look I shall aim to be the perfect host a
nd let you choose.’
She was about to get up and follow him when, without any warning, the lights went out, leaving them in darkness save for the flickering firelight.
‘Oh hell!’ Zander exclaimed. ‘It looks as if the generator has gone, which means that until I can get it fixed the dryer is useless. And it’s too late to disturb Ben. He and his wife go to bed quite early.’
Reaching for the matches, he proceeded to light the oil lamps, adding, ‘But don’t worry. I’ll put a match to the kitchen stove and finish drying the clothes on the airer.’
‘I’d better see to mine …’
As she started to rise, he pressed her gently back into her chair. A gleam of devilment was in his eye as told her, ‘It’s okay, I can cope. I’m no stranger to female underwear.’
That she could well believe!
His face a picture of innocence, he added, ‘You see, I have a younger sister.’
Ruefully aware that he’d been deliberately teasing her, Caris made no comment as he picked up one of the oil lamps and disappeared.
He returned quite quickly to say, ‘Well, the fire’s going and the clothes are hung up, but they’re bound to take quite a time to dry. In my case that’s not such a problem; I have other clothes and shoes here.’
The recollection of her previous discomfort made her give away more than she realized. She demanded crossly, ‘If you had other clothes here why didn’t you change into them straight away?’
Contriving to look slightly hurt, he answered, ‘Well, as I couldn’t see anything of mine being of much use to you, I decided you might prefer it if I kept you company.’
Wrong-footed, she bit her lip. It had been thoughtful of him to consider her feelings and appreciate that if he had been fully dressed she might have felt uncomfortable.
As it was, however, she had been even more uncomfortable. But honesty made her admit that it was hardly his fault if she couldn’t keep her libido under control.
‘Thank you,’ she said in a slightly stifled voice. ‘That was kind of you.’
Acknowledging her tacit apology, he stooped to check the state of her sandals.
Seeing her look hopeful, he shook his head. ‘I very much doubt if either they or your clothes will be wearable before the morning.’
Resuming his seat, he continued thoughtfully, ‘That being so, it might make sense to stay the night here. What do you think?’
A rush of mingled apprehension and excitement effectively tied her tongue.
When she failed to answer, he said quickly, ‘Don’t worry; if you don’t care for the idea we’ll forget it and manage somehow.’
Finding her voice, she said, ‘No, no, it’s not that I mind staying …’ Then with a kind of desperation she went on, ‘But there’s only one bed.’
‘I’ll be quite happy to stretch out on the couch.’
When still she hesitated, he pointed out practically, ‘Apart from the fact that you won’t have the privacy of your own room, it’s no different to being at Hallgarth.’
Of course he was quite right. At Hallgarth they had been alone together under the same roof. The only thing that made this different was her earlier erotic imaginings.
But thankfully he knew nothing of those.
Taking a deep breath, she said steadily, ‘If you really don’t mind sleeping on the couch, I’ve no objection to staying here.’
He studied her intently. ‘Great.’
‘In fact, it has to be the most sensible option,’ she added for good measure.
Nodding as if well satisfied, he said, ‘Well, if you’re happy with that?’
‘Quite happy …’
‘Good morning. Sorry I’m so late.’
The click of the latch and Julie’s greeting brought Caris back to the present with a start and she looked up dazedly.
Spawned by her dream, the memories of Zander and their first weekend together had been so real, so vivid that sitting at her desk she had been absorbed in the past to the exclusion of all else.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ Julie repeated as she put her mac and umbrella in the cloakroom. ‘To start with I overslept, and because I still had to pack I didn’t have time for breakfast.
‘Then, to add insult to injury, the bus I usually catch didn’t turn up and I had to stand in the rain for half an hour while I waited for the next one.’
Gathering herself, Caris sympathized. ‘It sounds like one of those days.’
‘You can say that again,’ Julie agreed in a heartfelt voice. ‘I told you I was going away for the weekend with Marcus?Well, he’d agreed to collect my case from home and then pick me up here tonight after work …’
‘So what’s the problem?’ Caris asked when Julie paused for breath.
‘I’d bought a really nice new case, and this morning when I looked for it to pack I discovered that Ella had borrowed it without even asking me.’
Caris sighed inwardly. Julie and her sixteen-year-old sister were frequently in contention.
‘So I had to make do with my old one.’
‘Why don’t you make yourself a slice of toast and some tea before you start work?’ Caris suggested soothingly.
‘Just what I need to help me feel human again. Want a cup?’
‘Please.’
‘I’ll only be a mo …’ Julie disappeared into the small staff-room-cum-kitchen at the back.
After two or three minutes she put her head round the door and, her mouth full of toast, asked, ‘Want to drink it at your desk?’
Feeling it was unprofessional, it wasn’t normally something either of them did. But it was quiet, and with the rain coming down in buckets likely to remain so.
‘Why not?’ Caris answered.
Julie reappeared quite quickly with two cups of tea and, having passed one over, went to sit behind her own desk.
‘Something bothering you?’ she asked suddenly.
‘Bothering me?’ Caris echoed. ‘No, nothing’s bothering me. Why do you ask?’
‘You look … I don’t know … sort of dazed, as if you’re not quite with it. When I first walked in you appeared to be miles away.’
‘I was,’ Caris admitted. Then with a sudden and quite unaccustomed desire to confide in somebody she explained, ‘Early this morning I had a dream that upset me. Made me think of the past.’
‘Want to talk about it?’
One part of her didn’t. It was over and done with; best forgotten.
But another part of her needed to face it, to talk about it one last time before she could hopefully lock it away for ever.
As if the whole thing had happened to someone else and she was simply a bystander, emotionally uninvolved, Caris began to tell Julie about her dream, then about her first meeting with Zander. She was fine until she got to the part about the log cabin. At that point her spurious calm totally deserted her and, knowing she couldn’t talk about what had happened at Owl Lodge, she stopped speaking abruptly.
Seeing Julie frown, and realizing that the girl suspected rape at the very least, she managed shakily, ‘It was absolutely magical, and I fell in love with the place.’
Once again swamped by memories, she stayed silent for so long that Julie probed, ‘Am I right in thinking that the place wasn’t the only thing you fell in love with?’
Caris nodded.
‘Any idea how he felt?’
‘I’d started to hope and believe he felt the same way about me. He was so right, so special, a wonderful, romantic lover—passionate and caring, fun to be with, exactly what I wanted and needed. It was as if I’d waited all my life for him …’
‘So what happened? Did he turn out to be married? Some men can be heartless,’ Julie added, with all the experience of an eighteen-year-old.
‘No, he wasn’t married.’ Suddenly unable to go on, Caris said huskily, ‘It just didn’t work out.’
At that precise moment the door opened and a man walked in, making speaker and listener alike jump guiltily.
Stirred into ac
tion, Julie whipped away the cups and vanished into the back room, while Caris struggled to pull herself together.
What on earth had she been thinking of, sitting pouring out her heart to Julie like some love-sick teenager when she should have been working?
After looking at a display of properties for sale, the newcomer approached her desk.
With a pleasant smile, Caris listened to his requirements and agreed to show him over two likely houses at his convenience.
By lunchtime she had talked to several more potential buyers, provided whatever information and photographs they requested and arranged at least half a dozen appointments for the following week.
All she needed to do now was decide on the best way to handle that afternoon’s viewing.
Normally she said very little, careful to apply no pressure and to allow the various properties to speak for themselves. But the sheer importance of the Gracedieu sale made her wonder if that was the right thing to do; would it be better to adopt a bolder, more positive approach?
She sighed. It would almost certainly depend on what kind of man her new client was. And that she didn’t know.
In the past it had always helped her to find out as much as she could about potential purchasers, especially the more important ones.
But Julie had taken this particular phone call while Caris had been out, and the only information the girl had been able to supply was that the new client was a Michael Grayson, and it had been his PA who had rung to make the appointment.
A few cautious enquiries on Caris’s part had merely established the fact that Michael Grayson was the big boss of Grayson Holdings. Which didn’t give her much to go on.
After eating a takeaway sandwich and drinking a cup of coffee, she freshened up in the small cloakroom.
A glance at her watch told her it was a quarter to one. Her appointment wasn’t until two-thirty, but even for the more routine viewings she liked to be early. It gave her a chance to relax and go over all the relevant facts and figures so she had them clear in her mind before her client arrived.
Having checked her appearance, she put all the necessary paperwork into her briefcase, collected her mac and shoulder bag, and braced herself for the task that lay ahead.
Running From the Storm Page 6