Concerned, she forgot all about his obnoxious grandson and clasped Benson’s wrist. He gave her a wan smile, knowing that she was surreptitiously taking his pulse. One forty over eighty, at a guess. Not critical, but definitely too high for a man in his condition.
She gave him a warning squeeze. ‘I think you should call it a night,’ she advised softly. And she definitely wanted to. Anything to get away from the pointed glare of the man opposite her.
Dare watched the intimate little tableau play out before his eyes. The woman had no shame. No shame whatsoever, and his increasingly bad mood had nothing to do with the fact that he would like those slender fingers wrapped around a certain part of his anatomy, and where he was imagining was a long way from his wrist.
He didn’t know what had possessed him to taunt her the way that he had, but it had very nearly backfired when he’d got a whiff of her light scent.
He breathed in deeply. He was pretty sure it was only shampoo he had smelt, shampoo and woman, and his recall was so strong she might as well have been sitting right beside him. Or in his lap.
A muscle jumped in his jaw and he realised he was clenching his teeth hard enough to break them. It pained him greatly that his body hardened in anticipation every time he looked at her. And when she spoke; that lilting English accent...he’d lived on and off in the country for about a year and never noticed what a turn-on it was.
At times she sounded exactly like a reprimanding English schoolmarm and at others as if she’d just climbed out of bed after being satisfied over and over. Add in that firecracker temper and haughty attitude and it was all he could do not to haul her across the table and find out if all that fire and ice translated to passion between the sheets. Or, on the table, rather, given their location.
Dare wondered what his grandfather would think if he told him it would take little more than the crook of his finger to have his mistress in his own bed.
The thought made him sick. He wasn’t here for that. And he certainly wasn’t here to compete with the old man. Let him make a fool of himself over a woman if that was his wont. Dare never had before and he never would.
Especially not over a woman like this. One with such a low moral compass. Which was probably why it bothered him so much that he found her so attractive. He just didn’t understand it. He’d been exposed to a limitless amount of beautiful women since he’d reached puberty and even more since he’d made it rich. Women more beautiful than Carly Evans, and yet all evening he’d struggled to take his eyes off her.
Bottom line, he despised her for what she was and he despised himself for wanting her regardless.
‘Goodnight, Mr James.’
‘It’s Dare,’ he reminded her, holding out his hand even though he knew it would be a mistake to touch her again. He couldn’t help himself it seemed, his legendary self-control a distant memory in her presence.
She hesitated, glancing at his hand, and he nearly smiled for real when good manners—of which, yes, his had been in short supply that evening—determined that she must.
Immediately he raised it to his lips. ‘Sleep well.’ Or not, his eyes said.
Hers widened as if she read him loud and clear before giving him a dismissive little smile.
‘I’ll see you later,’ she murmured to Benson. ‘Don’t be too long.’
Eager little thing, Dare thought, his fist clenched beneath the tablecloth.
He watched her leave the room, the chandelier above the table lovingly catching the highlights in her hair, before he turned his gaze on the old man.
Benson raised a brow in question and Dare saw just how tired he looked. Whatever news he had just received on the phone it hadn’t been good. Not that he felt sorry for the old fool. He’d made his bed years ago and he could lie in it.
‘I’m glad you came a day earlier,’ Benson said, and Dare was quite sure he wasn’t glad at all. ‘It has given us a chance to air some grievances.’
Dare hadn’t even scratched the surface. ‘I won’t have my mother hurt.’
‘I get that. And I want you to know it’s not my intention to hurt her again.’
Dare didn’t say anything, just waited for him to continue.
When his grandfather sighed heavily Dare almost felt sorry for him. Almost. ‘Your mother is coming for lunch tomorrow. I take it that you’re staying.’
‘Will the lovely redhead be there?’
His grandfather frowned at his disparaging reference to his mistress. ‘Carly is a very nice young woman, Dare, she—’
‘Spare me your platitudes. I’m sure she’s wonderful.’
‘She is. And...yes, she’ll be at lunch tomorrow. Is that a problem?’
‘Not for me.’
Benson nodded. ‘Then I hope you will also accept my hospitality and stay the night.’
‘I hadn’t planned to.’ What he’d planned was to find a hotel room and get some distance from the claustrophobic element of this enormous place, check the Dow Jones, catch up on work, but... His eyes drifted unconsciously to the door Carly Evans had just disappeared through. Practically it made more sense to be on site.
‘I’ll stay,’ he said gruffly.
‘Good.’ Benson stood up. ‘Then, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and, Dare...’ the old man stopped beside his chair ‘... I understand your concerns. I made grievous mistakes thirty-three years ago. Mistakes I want to rectify.’
‘Why now?’
‘I have my reasons, reasons I’ll share with you when we have more time. For now just know that I’m not going to let my foolish pride stand in the way again.’
‘Just remember that I’ll be watching you every step of the way,’ Dare said softly. ‘And if you do anything to my mother to upset her, I’ll ruin you.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘YOU KNEW HE’D think that?’ Carly paused in the act of placing her stethoscope’s bell over the brachial artery in Benson’s upper arm.
The Baron had the grace to look contrite. ‘Not until I saw the way he was looking at you after my phone call, and then...it was sort of flattering.’
‘Flattering?’ Carly inflated the cuff. ‘Flattering that your grandson thinks I’m your mistress?’
One thirty over eighty. Better.
She tore off the Velcro cuff more forcefully than she intended. ‘Only a man would think that,’ she griped. ‘But he thinks I’m a gold-digger as well.’
‘He’s a virile male, Carly, and you’re a beautiful young woman. His masculinity was dented, that’s all.’
‘Dented?’
‘That you would choose an old codger like me over a young buck like him.’
Carly sighed. ‘And men think women are hard to understand. I don’t even know him!’
‘Doesn’t matter.’ He grimaced. ‘How’s the blood pressure?’
‘Still too high. You know, you don’t need this extra stress right now.’
‘Probably not.’
‘Definitely not.’
But Carly knew what had made him bring it into his life. The operation he was due to undertake was dangerous. At his age it could be fatal. He was putting his affairs in order, although for the life of her she didn’t understand how someone could be estranged from their own child for over thirty years!
Her parents would rather cut off an arm than be estranged from her and they still hadn’t recovered from her sister’s death.
Carly being away this past year was the longest she had ever gone without seeing them and she missed them as much as they missed her. She couldn’t imagine not ever seeing them again.
A lump formed in her throat at the thought that none of them would ever see her sister again. It wasn’t her fault and yet...
Don’t go there, she advised herself. Focus on your patient.
�
�You know, Dare probably would have thought it even if he knew you were a doctor,’ Benson said. ‘Beckett thought it as well at first.’
Men, Carly thought. Perhaps she’d give up on them altogether! She didn’t know which grandson she disliked more. Dare, probably.
‘Perhaps you should just tell them both of your condition,’ she suggested. ‘Then they’ll know why I’m really here.’
‘I told Beckett tonight,’ he said, moving to the bed. ‘But I want to at least spend the weekend with Rachel and Dare before they find out how serious my situation is.’
Carly pulled the covers up over his legs and smoothed them out. ‘I don’t think Dare will care,’ she said cautiously.
‘The boy had it hard growing up. I’m only just realising how hard.’
Carly kept quiet. She didn’t know the Baron well enough to be in the inner circle of his confidences but she could see that he needed to talk. She handed him his pre-op meds and a glass of water. He swallowed them in one and sighed. ‘I really don’t blame Dare for hating me.’
‘But you’d rather he didn’t.’
He smiled up at her. ‘No, I’d rather he didn’t.’
Carly returned his smile. She was a doctor. Doctors were trained to have good listening ears, although her mother had once claimed that she had always been a good listener as long as her temper wasn’t piqued.
She put her stethoscope and sphygmomanometer back in her workbag, snapping the latch closed. ‘Just so you know,’ she said lightly, ‘I’m not playing up to Dare’s suspicions about me. I won’t be a pawn in this power struggle between you.’
Benson had the grace to look sheepish. ‘I know, my dear, and I’m sorry to have put you in such a position tonight. He’s angry with me and you got caught in his crosshairs. Both my grandsons could use a good talking-to. Would you mind passing me my phone on your way...?’ He touched his forehead and Carly saw a flash of pain cross his weathered features.
‘Benson?’ She went to him, bending down to see if his pupils were dilated. ‘Do you have a headache?’
‘No, no... I just have a little business issue to sort out.’
Carly glowered at him. ‘You’re supposed to be resting.’
‘I can rest when I’m dead,’ he retorted. ‘Especially when someone is meddling with the company my father created.’
‘Meddling?’ Carly frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve lost three pieces of key business lately because there are whispers in the market that someone is going to make a bid for my company.’
Carly frowned. ‘Are the two issues linked?’
‘I believe so, yes.’
‘That sounds a bit underhanded,’ she said, ‘and not something you should be concerning yourself with right now.’
‘I have to if I want BG to survive.’
‘Who do you think is responsible?’
‘I have my suspicions, but I’m hamstrung in finding out.’
‘Dare,’ Carly murmured half to herself. ‘You think it’s him?’
‘I was hoping not but after tonight...’ He stared past her and Carly felt a well of anger rise up at Dare James all over again.
‘But I doubt it’s him,’ Benson continued. ‘Not that I’ll rule out the possibility until I’ve spoken with him in private. Who knows? Maybe he wants to buy BG and sell it off piece by piece. I can’t half blame him if he does.’
‘Can he afford to do that?’ As far as Carly knew BG Textiles was one of the oldest and most successful companies in England.
‘He can afford it ten times over.’ Benson made a noise in his throat. ‘He’s more successful than I ever was.’
‘But that’s awful if he plans to do that,’ Carly exclaimed. ‘You don’t deserve that.’
Benson gave her a weary look. ‘I don’t know if he does, but...it’s partly my fault if you believe today’s psychology. I worked too hard, especially after Pearl’s death. I ignored both Rachel and her brother in their formative years.’ He sighed. ‘I lost my daughter as a consequence, and my son grew up lazy and entitled who spawned a son in his image.’
He coughed into his hand and Carly handed him a glass of water. ‘Listen to me. An old man’s lamenting. That’s another terrible thing about old age. Apart from being that much closer to death you become full of remorse. You see things you never saw before and value things you hadn’t even considered. When I was young I thought winning and success were all important. I had Pearl minding the home front and I didn’t even know I was missing out on anything until she was gone. Dare, from what I can tell, lives the same way.’
‘He’s married!’ Carly felt so shocked by the thought her heart stopped beating.
‘No, no. As far as I know he’s single.’
And now it was beating too fast. She had to stop dwelling on that horrible man. ‘Well, I can’t imagine a woman putting up with him,’ she declared with feeling.
‘Oh, they put up with him all right. They’re banging down his door to get to him.’
‘Aesthetically he’s very pleasing,’ Carly conceded grudgingly, ‘but his personality could use some work.’
Benson chuckled. ‘Maybe he just needs the love of a good woman.’
Carly glanced up sharply at his tone. ‘Don’t look at me when you say that,’ she cautioned.
‘Can you blame me?’ He shifted against his pillows and Carly fluffed them. ‘He already likes you and you’ll make some man very happy one day, my dear.’
Carly felt a lump form in her throat and cleared it away. ‘That’s very nice of you to say but I’m probably more messed up than your grandson. And you couldn’t be more wrong about him liking me. Now go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.’
Just before she left, the Baron cleared his throat. ‘Carly, there’s one more thing.’
‘Yes?’
‘I was hoping you would join us for lunch tomorrow.’
‘With Rachel?’ Carly said, surprised.
‘Yes. It might actually help keep the table balanced.’
What he meant, Carly suspected, was that he might need the moral support. After experiencing the full impact of Dare’s calculated put-downs Carly wasn’t surprised. Not that she couldn’t handle men like Dare James. She’d learnt her lesson well at Daniel’s cradle.
‘I’d be happy to join you,’ she said, and she was. Perhaps Benson would take the opportunity to tell them about his illness—and her real role in his life—and she would hate to miss seeing the shock on his grandson’s horrible face.
‘Thank you, Carly. You’re a true angel.’
Carly gave him a pointed look. ‘Call me that again and I’ll have Mrs Carlisle serve you tofu for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.’
He chuckled. ‘Pearl had your spirit.’
He heaved a sigh and didn’t say any more. He didn’t have to. He was a worried man who wanted to make amends. It quite broke Carly’s heart to see it.
So much so that the following morning, while she tried to jog off her lack of sleep the previous night, she decided that no matter what happened at lunch she would remain completely civil to Dare.
She might not like the man at all, but then she didn’t have to. He would be gone at the end of the day and, as she only had two weeks left at Rothmeyer House herself, the chances of seeing him again were slim to none.
Thinking about that reminded her of the email she’d received from her temping agency and had yet to respond to. The truth was she was a little tired of temping, but what would she do instead?
It was one year, three months and four days since they had lost Liv and she knew her parents wanted her home.
But was she ready for that? Ready to run into Daniel? Ready to face the memory of Liv’s trusting face as she had held Carly’s hand through every oncologist meeting?
A small smile lightened her face. Before becoming a doctor she had imagined they were all the epitome of healthiness but really...everyone had their vices and coffee was hers.
Using the bottom of her singlet top to wipe the sweat from her brow, Carly climbed the stone steps that led to the rear balcony and outdoor breakfast table. It was too early for Benson to be up but she still needed to go over the day’s menu plan with Mrs Carlisle and—
‘Keeping your assets in shape, I see.’
That deep, modulated voice gave Carly a start, the mocking words threatening her earlier resolve to treat this man with distant courtesy and nothing more.
He was once again wearing his faded jeans that surely fitted just a little too snugly, but he’d paired them with a dark grey shirt worn out and rolled at the sleeves, and of course those boots again. The outfit should have looked too casual but on him it looked somehow right, drawing the eye to his wide shoulders and long legs, and Carly hated that her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
He gave her a lazy smile as if to say that he knew the effect he was having on her, but little did he know that blatant displays of masculinity had never impressed her overly much. She much preferred someone who displayed gentleness over toughness.
‘Good morning, Mr James.’ She continued up the steps as if her heart weren’t jumping around inside her chest. ‘I can recommend a stroll in the east garden this time of the morning. It has a lovely French feel about it.’
‘I’m not one for feeling gardens, Miss Evans. French or otherwise.’
Annoyed at the twist he put on her words, Carly kept her back to him as she uncapped the water bottle she had left on the outdoor breakfast table before her run.
‘I hope you slept well,’ she finally said as he stopped beside her.
‘Do you?’
Carly’s eyes snapped to his as he leant against one of the teak chairs. ‘Let’s not start this again.’
Defying the Billionaire's Command Page 5
