Blossom felt a throb of happiness somewhere deep inside. It was probably a line he had used before, she told herself firmly in the next moment, and didn’t mean a thing. But still, it was…nice. It didn’t help the list thing, though.
‘Did you sort out your crisis?’ she asked once they had drawn onto the main road and were properly on their way.
He nodded, the hard profile trained on the traffic ahead. ‘Unpleasant business,’ he said evenly. ‘Necessitating immediate action. It came to my attention recently that one of my accountants had been juggling figures. Cooking the books, in other words.’
He glanced at her and Blossom nodded.
‘I confronted the individual concerned and he came up with a barrow-load of excuses. Gambling debts, sick mother, heavies on his back for their money, repossession of his house. He tried them all.’
‘Was he telling the truth?’ she asked curiously.
The sensual mouth thinned. ‘That is incidental, as I see it. No one steals from me. Alex was a good enough friend to know that if he’d got problems he could have come and talked with me freely. I knew him at university, damn it. I recruited him myself when I took over the business. Perhaps he thought that gave him an edge, I don’t know. Familiarity breeds contempt, maybe?’
Blossom swallowed hard. He was scary when he looked like this. ‘What did you do?’ she asked, intrigued in spite of herself.
‘I threw him to the wolves.’
‘The police? You brought the police in?’
He smiled grimly. ‘Not the police, no.’
‘I don’t understand.’ She wasn’t actually sure if she wanted to, but having started this she didn’t seem able to stop.
‘I sacked him, having made it clear I’d see that no one else employed him as an accountant. He’ll have to do some hard grafting to pay his debts, and he won’t like that. He was never someone who liked physical work. He’ll be paying off his dues for years to a number of people, me included.’
‘What’s to stop him just moving away, even leaving the country?’ she asked curiously. ‘People do that all the time.’
‘He won’t do that. One or two of the people he’s in debt to have very long fingers, and he knows it. No, he’ll slog away for little reward with a noose round his neck until he’s done, knowing he’s wasted his life, lost everything.’
Blossom repressed a shiver. ‘The police would have been a kinder option.’
His mouth curved sardonically. ‘Kindness wasn’t my main priority. And I didn’t see why his mother, who happens to be a very nice lady, should suffer the ignominy of having the family name dragged through the mud in the courts.’
‘You know his mother?’ That made it worse somehow.
‘Slightly.’ It was succinct.
‘Is she really ill like he said?’ Blossom persisted.
They had just stopped at traffic lights, and cars surged across the road in front of them. Zak turned to look at her. Patiently, he said, ‘Yes, but that has only occurred very recently. He threw it in as a sop.’
‘How do you know that?’ Ridiculously—because she didn’t know this Alex, or his mother either, come to that—she felt tremendous sympathy for them. A young man worried to death about his ailing mother who—foolishly, admittedly, but then no one was perfect—desperately grabs at an improbable straw and starts gambling in an attempt to pay her hospital bills and other expenses. This was awful, just awful.
‘She told me,’ said Zak as they drew off again.
‘She?’ Blossom’s brow wrinkled.
‘Alex’s mother.’ He changed gear. ‘She told me all about it.’
He hadn’t worried her with all this when she was ill? Blossom’s mental picture of a little old lady sitting wrapped up before a fire, shawl round her shoulders and a bowl of gruel in her lap, went up another notch. Now the woman was racked with sobs. Her son’s life had been ruined because of her.
‘You went to see his mother and told her her son was a thief?’ The list in her head had suddenly got too long to count.
‘Not exactly.’ It was dismissive.
He hadn’t done the job by telephone? That made it ten times worse. ‘What, then?’
‘Does this matter?’ The blue eyes raked her face for a second. ‘You don’t even know the people concerned.’
She didn’t know the wife of a man on the news who had been gunned down recently in a random shooting, or the parents of the child on TV last night appealing for a bone-marrow donor, but that hadn’t stopped her feeling normal human sympathy and pain for their plight. Something this man apparently was immune to. Stiffly, she said, ‘Whether I know them or not isn’t the point. You’ve told me about them now.’
He sighed. ‘Are you like this over abandoned puppies too?’
Ignoring that, she said, ‘How did you tell his mother?’
‘I didn’t.’ He overtook a family saloon which hooted indignantly.
‘But you said…’
‘No, Blossom, you said,’ he returned coolly. ‘When his mother came to see me to inform me she had just discovered her son had gambled away the family home, along with syphoning money from the business, we got talking. She was diagnosed with a certain type of leukaemia a few days before.’
‘His mother told you about Alex?’ She stared at him.
‘I told you, she’s a very nice, honest lady who is mortified by his actions. She had given him the chance to come to me himself, but I think he assumed she was bluffing when she said she’d inform me if he didn’t. Another mistake on his part.’
Blossom was lost for words. His mother had turned him in?
‘She works with disabled children, after giving up a very highly paid job in the city after Alex’s father died some years ago. She felt she wanted to do something positive with the latter part of her life if she couldn’t spend it with the man she loved.’
‘Oh.’ Blossom’s voice was small, but not nearly as small as she felt. Thank goodness he didn’t know what she’d been thinking.
‘Alex persuaded her to make over the house to him some time ago. Avoiding death duties, and so on. She loves her son, and knew nothing about his gambling. She came to see me because she wants him to face up to what he’s done and make amends, as much for his sake as anything else. The loss of her home means nothing compared to her son and the mess he’s made of his life. I only found out about the leukaemia by chance because she had to leave for an appointment at the hospital treating her. She’s not the type of woman to wear her heart on her sleeve.’
Each word on the list had taken on the consistency of a brick as it crashed about her ears. ‘Poor lady. Will…will she be all right? With regard to the leukaemia, I mean?’
‘I hope so.’ Again it was dismissive.
‘But where will she live if the home is going to have to be sold to pay some of his debts?’
‘I own some property.’
‘You do?’ His voice had been reluctant, he clearly didn’t like revealing his philanthropy. ‘Will she be able to afford the rent?’ The poor woman was practically destitute, after all.
He shifted irritably in his seat. ‘She’ll be living there rent-free for the forseeable future.’
Wow. She was so, so thankful he hadn’t been able to read her mind earlier. She sat quiet for a moment or two and then couldn’t resist asking, ‘What about Alex? Where will he live?’
‘Alex can go to hell.’
Right. Well, she couldn’t blame him. Perhaps it was time to change the subject, though, all things considered.
They talked of inconsequentials as the car nosed through the heavy traffic. It was ten minutes before Blossom asked tentatively, ‘Where are we going, exactly?’ She was wondering if she should have dressed up a bit more.
‘Exactly?’ His mouth quirked. ‘Just a little place I know in Harrow. You’ll like it. It’s very informal.’
‘Harrow? What’s it called?’ Not that she knew Harrow at all.
‘Hamilton’s place.’
&n
bsp; ‘Hamilton’s Place? That’s a coincidence, isn’t it, with your name being…?’ Her voice trailed to a stop. ‘It’s your home,’ she accused flatly. ‘We’re going to your home, aren’t we?’
‘Do you mind?’ He glanced at her for a moment. ‘I’ve been in this shirt all day, and would love a shower and a change of clothes before we eat.’
Put like that she could hardly refuse. ‘No, that’s fine.’ She paused. ‘Where are we going to eat?’
‘I thought we could let my housekeeper look after us,’ he said lazily. ‘It’s been a long day, and I didn’t feel like making the effort to go out when Geraldine’s cooking is so good. It means I can have a couple of glasses of wine with my meal and get Will to drive the car later.’
‘Will being?’ Suddenly the evening had changed.
‘Geraldine’s husband. He does the gardening and odd jobs, and acts as chauffeur when I need him to. They’ve been with me for years, since I bought the house. They’re a great couple.’
‘They live in?’ She wasn’t aware of the relief threading her voice. Of course, he picked up on it straightaway.
‘Yes, they live in,’ he said very drily. ‘So you are quite safe, my lamb, even if you are about to walk into the big bad wolf’s lair.’
Blossom’s throat tightened. Had she been that obvious? ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said quickly.
‘Of course you don’t,’ he said soothingly.
Blossom wanted to kick him. Instead she contented herself with looking regally out of the window for the rest of the journey until Zak swung the car off the road, through some open wrought-iron gates and into a long drive.
Blossom became aware her mouth had fallen open, and shut it with a little snap. The drive was perhaps fifty yards long, bordered by bowling-green-smooth lawns and flowerbeds that blazed with colour in the warm evening, but it was the truly beautiful building at the end of it that took her breath away. The house was huge, built of mellow, honey-coloured stone and topped with a thatched roof, below which leaded-glass windows glittered and twinkled in the late sunshine. It was a dream of a house, she thought wondrously, a romantic fairy-tale of a place, and totally not the sort of home she’d imagined the big, hard, very male man at the side of her would have chosen.
‘Like it?’ Zak asked softly as they drew closer.
‘It’s exquisite.’ There was no other word for it. ‘When did you buy it?’
‘Twelve months after I took over the business. It was a risk at the time. I wasn’t sure how things were going to go, because my father had run the business down before he died, and although I’d got a few things in the pipeline it wasn’t the sensible time to take out a massive mortgage on a property which needed a hell of a lot of work doing to it. But I saw it and I wanted it.’ He turned, his eyes stroking over her face. ‘And when I want something I’ll do anything to get it.’
Two huge beech-trees stood either side of the house like sentinels on duty, their shade reaching down to the sun-splotched, kidney-shaped parking area directly in front of the broad stone steps leading to the wide front door.
As Zak cut the engine, he continued, ‘Fortunately the business took off big time, and within a year or two all the work was finished and I could relax and enjoy the place. It’s my bolthole, my bit of sanity in what is often a crazy world. This is where I’m me, you know?’
‘It’s a wonderful environment to be you in,’ she said lightly, wondering how many other women he’d brought to his home. Dozens, no doubt. Hundreds.
‘I know it.’ He opened his door and slid out of the car, walking round to her side and helping her out. ‘Come on, come and meet Geraldine and have a look round. There’s a swimming pool at the back, if you fancy a dip.’
Taken aback, she said, ‘I didn’t bring a swimming costume.’
‘Damn.’ He grinned. ‘Skinny dipping it’ll have to be, then. I won’t look if you won’t. Fair?’
‘I don’t think so.’ He’d taken her hand as he led her up the wide circular steps, and her heart was pounding like a sledgehammer. ‘Anyway, I’m too hungry to swim.’
‘Next time, then.’
The sledgehammer intensified. He wanted there to be a next time. She warned herself that didn’t mean a thing.
When he opened the door Blossom had prepared herself for grandeur, but the wooden-floored hall wasn’t just grand, it was heart-stirring. Or at least it stirred her heart, she thought whimsically. Light, plain walls with the odd painting dotted here and there, huge bowls of flowers on small tables close to the two sofas the hall held and—something which really provided the magic touch—a magnificent grandfather clock gently dozing in one corner, casting a benevolent eye over the whole.
Sunlight spilled into the hall from two large windows either side of the front door, and the whole feeling the house gave was one of warmth and peace and honey-coloured space.
A door opened at the far end of the passageway on the right-hand side of the wide, curving staircase, a small white-haired woman bustling out. ‘I thought I heard the car.’ The little rosy-cheeked face was smiling. ‘And you must be Miss White. How do you do?’ she said, holding out her hand.
‘Call me Blossom, please.’ As Blossom shook hands with the housekeeper she was aware of a pair of bright brown eyes looking at her very intently. ‘It’s nice to meet you.’
‘You too, dear.’ Geraldine smiled, before turning to Zak and saying, ‘I’ve run you a bath, so why don’t you get off upstairs and let me show Blossom round? All this with that so-called friend of yours has done you in, hasn’t it? You look ready to drop. Go and soak for a few minutes.’
It was for all the world as though she was Zak’s mother, or perhaps grandmother would be a better description, because the little woman looked to be in her late seventies at least. Blossom watched with hidden amazement as Zak reached out and touched the housekeeper’s lined cheeks, his voice soft as he said, ‘Bossy as always. Perhaps Blossom would rather I show her the house. Have you thought of that?’
‘And perhaps she’d rather eat before midnight.’
‘I’d love Geraldine to show me round,’ Blossom intervened. ‘You go and freshen up and I’ll see you in a few minutes.’ The truth was she needed a short time to collect her thoughts without his unsettling presence dominating her mind. She was seeing another side to him here, an even more disturbing side than she had seen thus far. He couldn’t have been more gentle or tender with the housekeeper if she had been his grandmother. That, combined with the knowledge Zak had provided a home for the mother of this friend who had been stealing from him, just didn’t fit the mental picture she’d had of the powerful boss of Hamilton Electronics.
It was annoying, terribly annoying, but Zak wouldn’t stay in the box she had designated for him, and the more she learned about him the more he got under her skin.
His home was vast—eight bedrooms all with en suites, along with three reception rooms, a huge kitchen, utility room, breakfast room and dining room, and an extension holding the indoor swimming pool at the side of which, reached by a separate passageway, was the housekeeper’s apartment. Geraldine showed Blossom all of it, apart from the master-bedroom suite.
After the tour Blossom found herself deposited in the modern cream-and-gold drawing room which was all soft, plumpy sofas, gold silk draperies and cushions, and dominated by a magnificent cast-stone fireplace and antique gilt mirror. The room was almost exactly as she would have furnished it, given a free hand, and this in itself was disturbing.
She sat waiting for Zak in the sun-dappled surroundings with a glass of wine in her hand, wondering all the time what on earth she was doing here. She stared out of the huge bay windows, her gaze focusing on a weeping willow, and then the general grounds surrounding the house which Geraldine had informed her amounted to half an acre, all enclosed by tall evergreens.
Putting down the glass, she walked across to the windows and flung one open, breathing in the air which was subtly scented with the perfume of pin
e and flowers. It was so clean and fresh, the sun warm on her face. It was hard to believe she was still in greater London because it was so quiet, only the happy chirping of the birds in the trees surrounding the garden breaking the peace, and they merely accentuated the overall tranquility. Suddenly, and without warning, Blossom felt immensely sad, bereft even, as though she had lost something precious with no hope of ever finding it.
Horrified to find tears pricking at the backs of her eyes, she leant against the windowsill, taking great, soothing breaths of the fragrant air. This was crazy, insane. She was in beautiful surroundings, sipping excellent wine and about to enjoy a good meal. What was there to feel wretched about?
‘Peaceful, isn’t it?’
Zak’s voice just behind her caused her to swing round in alarm. How long he had been there watching her she had no idea. ‘It’s lovely,’ she said inadequately, forcing a smile.
He didn’t move away. Instead he turned her round so her back was against his front, putting his arms loosely round her as he said, ‘You see that big pine tree on the right? There’s a family of wood pigeons nesting there. The nest is such a rickety affair it’s a wonder it can hold the two fat babies inside. They were ugly little devils when they were first born, all beak and skin, but they’ve come on since then.’
Blossom swallowed hard. He smelt divine, and the brief glimpse she’d had of him in black jeans and black open-necked shirt, the sleeves rolled up revealing hard, sinewy arms, had told her he looked as sexy as temptation itself.
‘At night we have a barn owl that does the rounds; you’ll perhaps hear him later. He tends to sit on the roof warning off intruders,’ Zak continued softly. ‘He’s a big fellow, and aggressive with it—his territory, and all that.’
Blossom swallowed again. Wrapped round with his male warmth as she was, it was difficult to breathe normally, the ache in her throat and tightness in her chest constricting. ‘It’s like you’re in the country here,’ she managed to say at last. ‘The city with all its noise seems light-years away.’
His Christmas Bride Page 10
