by Amy Andrews
“Margaret,” he barked into the mouthpiece, but Addie was very aware of his eyes firmly trained on her face. “Get me a car.”
She couldn’t hear what the other woman said, but he shot her a triumphant smile as he listened and Addie felt a little dizzy.
“Margaret, you’re a gem,” he said, then hit the end button on the phone. “My PA, God bless her cotton socks, took the liberty of putting my usual service on hold,” he informed her. “She says it’ll be here in a jiffy.”
“Fine,” Addie said. “But you’re passing up the ride of a lifetime in a classic vehicle.”
“How will I go on?”
…
Three quarters of an hour later, they were still in the thick of city traffic and had barely spoken a word. Nathaniel had opened the limo door for her, shown her how to operate the television, and told her to help herself to the bar. Then he shrugged out of his jacket, pulled out a stack of papers and his laptop from his satchel, and promptly ignored her.
Feeling like a complete fish out of water amidst the plush surroundings, the idea of getting messy drunk was appealing, but she’d given up alcohol a few years back and even if she hadn’t, knowing her propensity to get flirty after a couple of drinks, it probably wasn’t the wisest course of action in a limousine that looked like a boudoir on wheels.
And next to a man who could tempt a nun.
Instead, she pulled out a book on ancient meditation practices she’d packed and managed to pick up the thread again. But each time Nathaniel shifted or rustled paper or made a phone call, it jerked her out of the text.
She tried to breathe deeply and find the center she’d totally lost earlier. She let her mind go blank and willed the numbers to come. There were many mantras that people used to relax them into a meditative state, but Addie preferred the familiarity and comfort of math. It had been her entire life for many years, and the soothing habit of counting prime numbers or the decimal points of pi never failed to ease her into a relaxed state.
But then Nathaniel’s phone rang, bursting her number bubble and her peripheral vision filled with broad shoulders and the thrust of two long, powerful legs. Her gaze drifted his way for the umpteenth time. The urge to touch him built. The desire to run her thumb over his collar, skim her knuckles against his shirt, feel the friction beneath her finger as she followed a slate pinstripe down his leg.
Where on earth did one buy a suit so exquisite? Or had elves made it for him while he slept? She hoped he planned on dressing down some more this weekend, because she was beginning to develop a fixation for him in pinstripes. And surely he’d look less commanding in a pair of jeans and wellies mucking out alpaca poop?
As her gaze strayed to him once again, his dark head bent, engrossed in his work, she noticed his hand drop to his thigh and knead at the muscles beneath. A spike of guilt flushed her cheeks.
“Does it still hurt?” she asked.
He raised his head and frowned at her before absently looking at his hand. He grimaced. “A little.”
“I really am sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said.
Addie shot him a skeptical look. “You sprained your ankle and bruised your thigh. If it weren’t for my stunt we wouldn’t have been handcuffed together, and we wouldn’t have been standing at that exact spot at that exact time.”
“The ankle’s much better. So’s the thigh,” he dismissed. “It happened. Let’s not belabor it.”
Addie frowned. Typical of him to be business as usual.
Fine.
She half turned in her seat to face him. “So… what’s our story?” she asked. “How’d we meet?”
He sighed as he pushed his papers aside. “Meet?”
Addie rolled her eyes. “I’m assuming we’ll have to be convincing in our roles? Don’t we need to get our stories straight?”
Nathaniel pursed his lips as he looked her over and Addie suddenly knew what it would be like to have his singular, laser-like focus. Her breath hitched, her nipples beaded, her pelvic floor went into spasm.
Was it possible to orgasm from a look?
“Well, they’re never going to believe what I usually tell them.”
Addie was yanked from the sexual haze as she was judged and obviously found wanting. It shouldn’t matter that an evil tycoon had dismissed her, but somehow it did. She shot him an icily polite smile. “Oh, and what’s that?”
“A fundraiser.”
“I go to fundraisers,” she said indignantly.
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not talking about those kind of fundraisers.”
Addie felt her temper spike and she desperately reached for her center. Drat this man. Ever since she’d gone into remission, she’d tried to live a happy, centered life, and he’d done nothing but force her out of it, keeping her constantly off-kilter since she’d heard about his plan to destroy St. Aggie’s rose garden.
Anger wasn’t good for her health.
“Those kind?”
He shot her a sardonic smile. “Saving South American rainforests and rare tree frogs. That kind.”
Oh, he thought he had her figured out, did he? “It strikes me that you might win more points from them if you were straight from the get-go. ’Fessed up to us meeting at the protest? After all, the best lies are always grounded in truth. Surely a businessman with your pedigree already knows that?”
She’d researched him enough to know that his father, the late Nigel Montgomery, had employed tactics that were often questionable and had walked a very fine line between on-the-level and the wrong-side-of-shady.
Still, it gave her no satisfaction to see his lips flatten temporarily. She hated what she became around him. How could he infuriate and rouse with so little effort?
But if he thought she was going to sit back and let him run roughshod over her, then he had another think coming.
“They have to think we like each other,” he pointed out.
“Why? Can’t you just say you brought me to the party to try and sway me to your way of thinking?”
“My grandmother—who is bonkers—wants great-grandbabies. She’s eighty. Old enough to be cantankerous about it. She thinks I’m bringing a girlfriend. And I just want some peace.”
Something shifted deep inside her at the thought of having a baby with this man. Or at least at the thought of doing the thing that led to babies.
It.
Doing it.
“I hope she doesn’t expect us to make one this weekend? Because this deal does not,” she said primly even as the words forming in her mind made her heart beat faster, “involve sexual favors.”
Addie swallowed as his laser gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered on her breasts, then returned very slowly back to her mouth, brushing heat everywhere. She could see his pulse thudding at the base of his throat through the open neck of his shirt as that spicy aroma of his wafted toward her.
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave and suddenly she didn’t feel like she was wanting at all. “It could be fun.”
Something kicked in her chest deep down inside her. His voice stirred wicked thoughts of sexual abandonment. Good grief—a few hours in his company and she was actually contemplating Nathaniel Montgomery’s definition of fun.
When had he gone from evil tycoon to potential weekend shag?
When had she gone bonkers?
Nathaniel snorted, breaking into her crazy thoughts. “No need to worry. There won’t be shared rooms. My grandmother, despite being alternate and desperate for progeny, has a strong moral code that seems to involve very strict rules about my house guests. Although,” he added derisively, “not so much for her own. Your virtue will be safe from me.”
Addie nodded, relieved. Even if that tiny bit of her still clenched in anticipation seemed to be annoyingly disappointed.
“Good.” Really, it was. “So, that puts us back to square one. Where did we meet?”
He cast a considering eye ove
r her and Addie felt as if she were a specimen under a microscope again—a very ugly specimen—the heat from earlier nowhere in sight. Unfortunately, her body didn’t seem to care about the perfunctory nature of his gaze.
“Surely it’s not that hard,” she said waspishly. “Where do all you rich guys usually meet women?”
He shrugged. “Parties, galas, opening nights. Been to any of them recently?”
“Of course.” Addie smiled at him, her teeth practically gnashing as she ignored his mocking tone. “The opening night of Annie by the Wapping Elementary sixth form was a real hoot. Penny’s niece didn’t even need to wear a wig.”
“I’m sure it was,” he said dryly as he started to roll up a sleeve.
Despite her aching jaw, Addie’s gaze was drawn to the perfect delineation of muscles in his forearms and the way they undulated beneath his skin. The urge to touch, to feel their warmth, their bulk was surprisingly strong.
She dragged her gaze away, annoyed further. “Why don’t we just say you came into my shop?”
He frowned. “Why on earth would I go into your shop?”
Addie blinked at his instant rebuttal. “Why wouldn’t you come into my shop?”
“You sell crystals.”
He said “crystals” the same way he’d said “meditation.” Like both things had landed from outer space and were in the realm of the ridiculous.
Oh dear. Her job to humanize grew bigger with every passing hour.
She held onto her patience. “How about to get your grandmother an eightieth-birthday present?”
Nathaniel started on his other sleeve and Addie’s gaze followed, entranced. “I got her a voucher from the nearest farm supply store.”
Addie gaped. “Bloody hell, why didn’t you just get her a vacuum cleaner or an iron? I hope you pick better gifts for the other women in your life.”
“It’s what she wanted,” he said, glaring at her. “I doubt very much she’d value a Tiffany necklace or an Armani handbag down on the farm.”
Addie shook her head. The man had millions of pounds and not one single clue. “Lucky for you,” she said, fishing around in her bag for the gift, “this year, you have me.”
She handed him the box. It fitted neatly into the palm of his hand.
“What’s this?” he asked.
Addie watched him stare at the gift as if it were a ticking time bomb. “It’s your gift to your grandmother.”
He stared at it a bit more, then pushed it back toward her. “Thanks, but she likes the vouchers.”
“I’m sure she does,” Addie said in her best stupid-man voice. “But she’s eighty. It’s kind of a big one. Something a little more personal might help soothe your failure to produce a great-grandchild.”
Nathaniel looked at her, one eyebrow kicking up. “Unless you have a fertilized egg in here and someone to incubate it, I don’t think it’s going to be quite up to par.”
Addie crossed her arms. “Just open the damned box.”
She held her breath as he opened it. She’d known when the stock had come in this morning that it would be the perfect gift for Nathaniel’s grandmother. After all, she couldn’t turn up to a birthday party empty-handed, and something about it had appealed to her.
He didn’t say anything, just looked at the piece of jewelry, which made Addie nervous. “Grandmothers like brooches,” she said to fill the silence. “It’s their era. It’s a lot more personal than a voucher. And I thought with the earth goddess in the middle surrounded by the crystals, it might appeal to a lady farmer.”
“It’s fine,” he said snapping the lid closed and handing it back to her. “I’m sure she’ll be delighted by it.”
Addie took it. Fine? What the hell did that mean?
“Wow,” she said, giving him a wooden smile, even though her face felt like it was going to crack with the effort. “Your enthusiasm overwhelms me. Is there a reason why you’re so cranky, or are you just constantly uptight?”
“I am not cranky,” he snapped.
Addie raised both her eyebrows. “Of course not.”
Nathaniel raked a hand through his hair and she could practically feel the waves of frustration emanating from him as they battered her body. Which was a shame, because this was the second time now she’d seen his hair all mussed up—the first time being those minutes they’d spent in the gutter together—and the ruffled look added an extra layer to his already lethal sexiness.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” he said. “It’s a bad time for me to be away from London. I have some deals in the pipeline and Hill Top is like the black hole of Devon.”
Addie, still distracted by his appearance, found herself wondering if he’d look this shaggy first thing in the morning. She made an effort to drag her recalcitrant thoughts back into line as he continued to speak.
“Phone reception is dicey at best, and they only have dial-up Internet that’s slow and drops out constantly. I don’t really have the time for any of this.”
“So you’re cranky because you’ll be out of touch for forty-eight hours? Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe that’s exactly what you need. A couple of days to chill out. Relax.”
She felt his glare right down to her toes. “No. What I need is to work. That’s what I do. I hate being idle.”
Addie heard the desperate note to his voice and almost felt sorry for him. Back when she’d been part of the rat race, a weekend in the countryside, far away from access to 24/7 technology, would have stressed her, too. “Why don’t you get a satellite dish installed on the farm?” she asked as she fished around inside her cavernous holdall for the small gift bag she’d purchased for the brooch. “That way you can still stay connected to your empire.”
“Don’t think I haven’t tried. My grandmother thinks they’re evil. She’s convinced they’re carcinogenic.”
Addie smiled to herself at the dejected note in his voice. Several octaves higher and he’d sound just like a little boy who’d been told he couldn’t go to the sweet shop.
She located the gift bag and dropped the box inside. She spied the other gift she’d bought and hesitated for a moment, almost chickening out, embarrassed by her impulsive gesture. But she quickly quashed it. Being impulsive, spreading the love, and taking joy in other people’s pleasure was who she was now. And she wasn’t going to let a thwarted tycoon who wore a suit to a farm change her.
She’d survived a ravaging disease and a treatment that had put her on the critical list in intensive care for a week. She wouldn’t let his brooding disapproval of her lifestyle intimidate her.
“Well, this might help,” she said, bringing the book out and giving it to him.
She watched him closely as he turned it over and over like he’d never seen one before. “It’s a book,” she explained patiently. “You know, back in the old days, before iPhones and the World Wide Web, we actually used to read in our spare time? I figured a man who didn’t go to the movies has probably missed out on one of the best books to ever come out of this country.”
He grunted. “The boy wizard, huh?”
Addie pressed her lips together so the laughter wouldn’t bubble out as “boy wizards” obviously joined meditation and crystals in the neat little box in his head labeled “weird stuff.”
It could be fun opening up his world.
If she didn’t murder him first.
“It’ll keep you from being idle when the Internet’s down,” she said, patting his leg as if she were placating a child.
Except it suddenly didn’t seem very placatory and she immediately wished she hadn’t.
Nathaniel Montgomery was no child.
His quad muscle was certainly all man. It filled her palm, warm and vibrant, and her hand felt hot as his gaze fanned over it, fixing on their point of contact. She felt him tense slightly and for a crazy moment she wanted to run her palm along the length of his thigh, familiarize herself with every millimeter. She’d caught a glimpse of his leg the other day as his trousers had been cut off
and now she’d inadvertently copped a feel.
She really needed to stop getting herself into such compromising positions.
His gaze shifted to her face and Addie swallowed. “Idle minds are the devil’s playground,” he murmured.
Her breath stuttered to a halt as their gazes locked for a few seconds. Her cheeks felt warm and her heart fluttered madly in her chest, and if she hadn’t realized before, she knew right then and there that he could tempt her to play with him too easily.
Nathaniel posed a threat to more than just her rose garden.
Chapter Four
“What are you working on?”
Nathaniel held her gaze as she deliberately changed the subject and pulled her hand away as if his thigh had suddenly caught fire.
Given how damned hot he felt right now, maybe it had.
“Just business,” he dismissed, grateful that Addie had steered the conversation back from the edge.
“Destroying two-hundred-year-old walled gardens kind of business?”
She softened her taunt with a smile and Nathaniel returned it with a sardonic one of his own. He had absolutely no intention of being drawn into the St. Agnes battle with her.
She was in the back of a limo, for crying out loud—couldn’t she just be impressed for a while? Other women loved being squired around in the lap of luxury. They usually wasted no time in fixing themselves a drink, turning on some music and checking out every nook and cranny, chattering nine to the dozen.
Hell, most of them were pretty damned keen to test the limits of the leather seats. But not Addie Collins. She’d sat like she had a prickle in her butt and hadn’t said a word for the first forty-five minutes.
“Just running some figures on another project I’m hoping to acquire shortly,” he murmured.
“Don’t you have a calculator for that?”
He shrugged. “Sure, on my phone. But I enjoy the challenge.”
She leaned toward him a little to peer at the paperwork on his lap and Nathaniel tried not to look at the way things shifted beneath her T-shirt.
“That’s not a challenge,” she said. “Working them out in your head is a challenge. I’m pretty good at math. I can help if you like. Throw me a sum.”
