by Kim Lawrence
‘No, that wasn’t the reason, but it is a plus,’ she admitted, and had the satisfaction of seeing his jaw clench. ‘I hate to break this to you but not everything is about you.’ She bit her lip, regretting the words, not because of the flash of astonished anger in his face, but because there was no point winding him up while she was here. ‘I took this job because...’
Good question.
Why had she taken this job?
* * *
‘Well, how could I pass up the opportunity to see you every day and have one of our delightful discussions?’
From somewhere the memory surfaced of Rosie, months after the end of her affair, describing the physical craving she still felt to hear her lover’s voice, to catch a glimpse of him even after all he had done to her. Made uneasy by the mental connection and wondering if wrapped up inside the layers of sarcasm there was even a thread of truth in her comment, Anna almost tipped over into outright panic...
She took a calming breath. She wasn’t the craving kind, and if she was going to crave anyone or anything it wouldn’t be this man!
He was everything she loathed. He was what she had vowed to protect herself from—the sort of man capable of inspiring obsession.
Recovering her poise, she met the sensational silvered gaze. All at once her precarious poise vanished. Swallowing, Anna took an involuntary step backwards as he uncrossed one foot from the other and, his languid actions presenting a stark contrast to the gleam in his deep-set eyes, Cesare levered his broad shoulders from the wall where he had been leaning. As he peeled away the dark curve of lashes lifted off his chiselled cheekbones and she encountered the full force of the maliciously amused contempt in his eyes.
‘Well, you’ll have plenty of opportunity to see me.’ He watched a spasm of wild-eyed panic cross her quite remarkably expressive face. For a woman who presumably had some experience in lying and cheating, she really did not hide her feelings well.
Promise, threat? She didn’t want to know. ‘I...I thought you travelled a great deal.’
He arched a sardonic brow. ‘I am my own boss.’
‘Nice for you. I’d settle for having a permanent job!’ Anna flared back, taking refuge in resentment.
‘Am I meant to feel guilty for your unemployment? If you resigned your post before you secured another you must have been very confident, or possibly,’ he speculated nastily, ‘you jumped before you were pushed?’
‘I am confident that I am good at what I do,’ she retorted with a quiet dignity that brought a frown to his face.
‘But if you had bothered to read my CV you’d know that the inner-city school I was working at was a victim of closures.’ It had been that circumstance and the encouragement of friends and colleagues, not ambition, that had made Anna apply for headships. She had been very happy where she was and being a deputy head had meant she’d still retained the face-to-face teaching contact with the children.
It took him a moment to meet her eyes. He already knew all he needed to about this woman without reading her CV. ‘And the job situation is so bad that you were forced to consider relocating to the other end of the country?’
‘So only rejects need apply, is that what you’re saying?’ she snipped back.
His moulded lips tightened. ‘I’m saying that a woman like you would not last ten minutes here before she got bored, and the children here deserve continuity.’ He stopped, realising that anyone listening might consider he felt the need to defend his position. His jaw tightened. He didn’t.
Her chin went up. ‘Mr Urquart, you know nothing about a woman like me.’
He huffed a cynical laugh. ‘You’d be surprised.’
Anna threw up her hands, unable to control her exasperation. ‘It really doesn’t matter what I say, does it? You’ll never give me a fair hearing because you’ve already made up your mind,’ she accused.
His nostrils flared at the accusation. Ignoring the voice in the back of his head that suggested he might not be applying the objectivity he was famed for to this situation, he retorted coldly, ‘My personal feelings have nothing whatever to do with this.’
Anna gave a disbelieving snort and chimed with bitter mockery, ‘Lucky you.’
Cesare did not deign to respond. ‘My sister is her own woman.’
Wishing her top were thicker, Anna folded her arms across her chest and masked her growing inability to hide her physical reaction to his aura of animal magnetism that lurked behind an expression of amused indifference.
How was it possible to loathe a man and still find yourself a helpless victim of his earthy sexuality? Why deny it? Her time and energy were better spent fighting it...him, herself.
‘You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.’ Taking a breath to slow the agitated flow of words, she managed a condescending sniff. ‘But then, I suppose for you it is.’
It was obvious to Anna that he wasn’t the sort of man who would consider a mind of her own a good thing in a woman. It was easy to imagine the sort of female he liked, the variety who pandered to his vanity and acted as if every syllable he uttered were pure gold, just because he was famous and rich.
She sniffed. All right, there were probably other reasons too. She had to concede that even had Cesare Urquart been destitute and wearing rags there would still be plenty of women willing to overlook his flaws, willing to put up with a lot to be given access to that gorgeous...hard...male body.
Huffing out a tiny shocked gasp, she forced her eyes back to his face as she reminded herself that she was not—definitely not—one of those women. She preferred her men grounded and safe. Men like her ex, Mark.
Not that that relationship had been a great success!
Taking lust and hormones out of the equation had not saved Anna from making a mistake, but on the plus side that mistake had not involved an unplanned pregnancy, or a suicide attempt. Far better to be dumped by a man you didn’t love, than one you couldn’t live without.
She squeezed her eyes shut. She would never allow herself to be the victim that Rosie had, never allow a man to reduce her to that!
‘My sister appears to trust you.’
Her tightly squeezed eyes opened and settled on his lean dark face before narrowing on the strong, sensual outline of his lips. Anna felt her stomach muscles tighten. Face it, taking lust and hormones out of the equation was not an option with a man who possessed that mouth!
‘If you fail to live up to her expectations you will regret it.’
For several moments Anna remained too shocked by her own thought processes to respond.
‘Is that a threat, Mr Urquart?’ she finally asked quietly.
His dark eyebrows rose upwards. ‘It is a fact, Miss Henderson,’ he responded, without missing a beat.
Anna’s chin lifted, her blue eyes narrowed at the corners, darkening with purpose as she met his stare head-on. Excitement was not a sane response to the warning, yet it was there in the shiver that slid like a silken finger down her spine.
Neither willing to be the first to break that contact, it was Cesare who did so, his glance sliding down the smooth column of her throat. The action bearing all the hallmarks of a compulsion that glittered in his heavy-lidded eyes as they reached the base of her throat where a pulse visibly pounded against her blue-veined skin. Skin that had a translucent sheen. It looked so soft that before he could exert some control he was visualising his open mouth pressed to that pulse spot while he slid his hand over the full provocative curve of her breast. He inhaled sharply, his expression hardening as he snarled, ‘I do not tolerate incompetence in my staff.’
Anna’s chin lifted another notch. It was not his arrogant assertion that sent her stomach into a dipping dive or brought a sheen of sweat to her skin, but the gleam she had seen in his deep-set eyes, a gleam that was sizzlingly hot as his voice was now cold.
>
‘I’m not your staff.’ She gave a haughty toss of her head. ‘Now if you’d direct me I can get the things I left in the car and start doing what I came here for.’
It was not his words that finally made her pull in a tense breath and blank her expression but her reaction—the rush of excitement she experienced—when he said in a voice like cold steel, ‘You are in my home. The rules are mine.’
He walked straight past her without having directed her anywhere. It was several minutes before Anna moved, before her shaking legs would support her. She had always firmly believed that the entire macho thing masked insecurity and had been mildly contemptuous of women who fell for the chest-beating routine.
But if Cesare had any insecurities he was hiding them well!
CHAPTER FIVE
ON HER SECOND day at Killaran, having dropped Jas off at her friend Samantha’s house, Anna found she had a few hours to herself. She spent them exploring a section of the coastal path that would have been too taxing for Jasmine to cope with, though it was hard to convince the child she had any limitations.
By the time Anna had completed the coastal circuit and Killaran was in view, the exertion had unknotted some of the tension that had built up in her shoulders and brought a healthy flush to her cheeks. She tried not to let the sight of the grey stone monument that dominated the landscape spoil her mood. It was not the building that caused the spring in her step to grow heavy, it was the owner—Mr ‘Lord of all I survey’ Urquart.
At least he wouldn’t be there to appear when she wasn’t expecting it. Yesterday she had felt as though she were taking part in some sort of covert military exercise and she wasn’t discounting the possibility her room had been bugged. Everywhere she went he was there, though what sinful activity he expected to catch her out in she didn’t have a clue. Her relief had been so intense she nearly kissed the stern Mrs Mack when the housekeeper had explained that Monday mornings Cesare flew to Rome, returning in the middle of the week.
A few days a week without him around might just make this bearable. She hadn’t been expecting him to back down, but she had thought he would accept the situation and let her get on with it, contenting himself with throwing the occasional scowl her way when their paths crossed occasionally. But if yesterday was any indicator she’d been wrong on both counts; this was a war of attrition.
And she couldn’t do a damned thing about it. Jas was his niece. She could hardly restrict his access and the child clearly adored him. Having decided he had no redeeming features, she found it very annoying to have him turn out to be child friendly.
But she wouldn’t let him grind her down, it was obvious to Anna that where Cesare Urquart was concerned everything had to be his way or not at all. The man simply couldn’t tolerate not being the one calling the shots; he had to be in charge and flex his macho muscles. Well, not with me, she thought defiantly.
She knew he was looking for an excuse to get rid of her and she was equally determined not to give it. Pushing the thoughts of the absent castle owner out of her head, she glanced at her watch and discovered she had an entire hour to spare before she needed to collect Jas.
Remembering the book she had downloaded to read on the journey up, she entered the castle through the side entrance, then paused now she almost had her bearings. The place was a total maze but she knew that the most direct route to the apartment was through the front door and down an inner connecting corridor.
If there had been any chance of bumping into the man who had appointed himself her judge, jury and, if she gave him the chance, executioner, there was no way in the world she would have taken that route, but today she would be safe.
The connecting door lay at the end of a long stone-floored corridor. There were a dozen doors that opened off it on either side and the walls were lined with framed antique political prints. She resisted the temptation to study them, speeding up as she walked past the one open door, catching a glimpse of boo-lined walls and the glow of a log fire reflected in an enormous mirror.
She had gone a dozen steps when she stopped, unable to resist taking a second look. She backtracked. There was something about a book. Although she loved the convenience of the novel waiting on her tablet, it lacked the sheer tactile experience of holding a book.
As she poked her head around the door she let out a silent whistle and stepped inside. The room was not as big as the baronial hall, nor as impressive as the ballroom with the intricately moulded hand-painted ceiling and tapestry-lined walls, but this room had something, a lived-in warmth that drew her.
She inhaled deeply and sighed. ‘It probably makes me insane but I just love the smell of books!’
‘There are worse smells.’ Like the light fragrance she favoured, delicate but somehow he had smelt it as she hurried past the door; it was stronger now she was inside the room.
Anna’s head snapped sideways in time for her to see Cesare rise with lazy fluid grace from a high-backed chair facing the window. She watched as he straightened to his full impressive height. Long and lean, every inch of him hard. She swallowed and felt something kick hard in her stomach. The sensation spread, rippling out across her skin until her flesh was hot yet pebbled in goosebumps.
‘You’re not here.’
He raised a sardonic brow.
The colour that had drained from her face rushed back with a vengeance. ‘I mean, I thought you were away or I wouldn’t have...’
‘Got caught.’
‘I’m sorry if I intruded,’ she said stiffly, ‘but this is a lovely room.’
She bit down on her lip. If she started to babble nervously she might not be able to stop. Was it possible to talk yourself to death? That such a thing as death by metallic stare existed was a lot less uncertain!
‘I think so.’
Another nerve-shredding silence fell and still his silvered stare held her in a grip that made her feel like a butterfly on a pin. It was easy to visualise barbaric images around this man. It was even easier to think about his hard muscles and smooth skin.
She scrunched her eyes shut and blinked in an effort to banish the relentless reel of erotic images playing in her head. When she opened them he was no longer looking at her. She took a small sideways step as the downgraded tension level made her knees give.
‘This is where I work when I’m home.’ Not that he had been working. The tension humming in his veins had made concentration impossible.
Finally freed of the surgical-steel stare, Anna began to look around the room. Anywhere but at him. She saw no visible evidence of work but resisted the childish temptation to mention this; instead she took a deep breath. It might hurt but, like it or not, on this occasion she was in the wrong.
‘I’m sorry if I disturbed you,’ Then, aware that her stiff delivery sounded unconvincing, added, ‘Really.’
Her wary eyes trained on his face. There was a limit to how long you could stare over someone’s shoulder without causing comment. She saw a muscle clench in his cheek and wondered why she’d bothered to do the right thing when all her apology had done was make him look murderously angry. She might have assumed that was the norm for him if she hadn’t seen him with his niece. The Cesare she saw with Jas was hardly recognisable as this sneering, autocratic monster.
She took a step towards the door. ‘I’ll leave you in peace.’
Peace!
Cesare wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and felt the moisture along his upper lip. Another couple of seconds and he would have convinced himself that a taste of her lips would be enough; the next step would have been deciding that he could handle sex with her. He was not sure why he wanted her so much beyond the obvious, but he was sure that he would not have any peace until he had ejected this woman from his home, his life and his head.
It would have been easier if Jas hadn’t so obviously taken to her,
but like her impulsive mother the little girl had taken one look at Anna Henderson and decided she was a kindred spirit.
Unable to fight the impulse, he lowered his gaze to her lips. Again in his head he could see them swollen from his kisses. Contemptuous of his own lack of control, he pushed the image away. It wasn’t her occupation of his head he had to worry about. His head had very little to do with what was happening. Something about her bypassed his intellect—his reaction to her was all about blind instinct and simple lust.
‘Where is my niece?’
Framed in the doorway, Anna turned back to face the accusation, the action causing her hair to whip around her face. ‘She’s playing with a friend.’ She brushed back the fiery strands from her cheek, hating the defensive note she could hear in her voice.
‘So the first chance you get you offload your responsibilities to someone else?’
On the scale of the unfairness he had displayed so far this accusation rated fairly low, but it was just one hit too many. Something inside her snapped. She gritted her teeth and glared at him in utter frustration. She didn’t expect life to be fair but this was ridiculous.
‘Jas is playing with a friend. I haven’t locked her in her bedroom and gone out shopping or worse.’ She shook her head and threw up her hands in a gesture of angry frustration, then, about to turn away, changed her mind and took two angry steps in his direction.
Her chest lifting in tune with her angry agitated breathing, she stood, hands on her hips, her chin thrust out, and she glared up at him while covering her upper lip with her plump lower one to huff stray wisps of hair from her face. ‘Why are you here today anyway?’ She wiped a persistent strand of hair that was tickling her nose, ‘Could it be you wanted to be around so you could stalk me again?’
He sucked in an outraged breath and dragged his eyes off her mouth. ‘Stalk?’
There was danger in his echo that sent a shiver down Anna’s spine. Problem was the shiver was not trepidation, it was anticipation. She needed to end the conversation and get out of here very quickly.
