Mistress To A Millionaire. Helen Brooks

in.’ She was pleased how firm and controlled her voice sounded; she wasn’t feeling a bit like that inside. Melted jelly, more like, she thought irritably as she took as deep a breath as her ribs would allow and pushed the tray aside as the door opened.

      ‘Hello again.’

      This time the lithe, lean body was dressed in black denim jeans and a heavy black leather jacket, and his dark presence seemed to fill the room as he came towards the bed. But Daisy was prepared this time—just—for the impact he had on her.

      ‘Hello.’ She even managed a relatively normal smile, which faltered slightly as he presented her with a beautiful little posy of pink rosebuds and small perfect daisies enclosed in lace and silk ribbons. ‘Oh…thank you, they’re lovely,’ she said quickly as the delicate perfume of the roses touched her senses.

      ‘My pleasure.’ It was deep and sardonic and the black eyes swept over her with something in their depths that brought a flush to her cheeks. And then he hooked the upholstered straight-backed chair the nurse had left by the side of the bed with one hand, sitting astride it with his forearms resting on its back as he said, ‘How are you feeling?’

      How was she feeling? Up to a minute ago she’d been feeling as though she’d made enormous progress, but now she felt as dazed as when she’d first regained consciousness! But she wasn’t about to betray that to those piercingly astute eyes.

      ‘Much better, thank you.’ She forced another bright smile. ‘I’m sure I’ll be well enough to leave tomorrow and—’

      ‘The nurse tells me your immediate family live in the States?’ he interrupted lazily, one dark brow raised enquiringly. ‘So does that mean you’ve got no one to look after you when you leave here?’

      Daisy looked at him for a long moment without answering, but her brain was working rapidly. Her nurse had spent almost an hour chatting that afternoon about this and that, and she had felt at the time that some of the questions the woman had asked were inspired by more than casual interest. But the uniformed figure had been persistent, and although she had fielded quite a few of her carefully worded questions by the time the nurse had left Daisy had felt uneasy about how much she had revealed. And she felt doubly uneasy now.

      She shrugged lightly. ‘I don’t need anyone to look after me,’ she said evenly. ‘I’m a big girl now.’

      ‘A big girl who is lucky to be alive and must be feeling as though she has been run over by a steam engine,’ he countered smoothly. ‘And if your family live in the States and you have only just moved down here from Scotland—’ she was right, Daisy thought sharply, the nurse had been gathering information for Slade Eastwood ‘—the city can be a pretty lonely place,’ he finished quietly.

      Lonely? Lonely she could take, Daisy told herself silently. In fact in the last hellish sixteen months there had been times she would have welcomed it with open arms. She kept her voice very steady when she said, ‘It’s not a problem; really it isn’t.’

      ‘Yes, it is.’ It was cool and calm and imperturbable.

      The black eyes were holding hers effortlessly and in spite of herself she found it impossible to break the brilliant gaze. She gathered her scattered wits about her and tried for firmness. ‘Please don’t think I’m not grateful for all you’ve done, Mr Eastwood—’

      ‘Slade. I told you before.’

      It was the second time he had interrupted her in as many minutes and it was irritating, especially as the cold, arrogant face was watching her with a faintly patronising expression that caught her on the raw.

      Daisy took a long, silent breath and continued tightly, ‘But I am perfectly capable of looking after myself when I leave here.’

      ‘My car still bears the imprint of you looking after yourself,’ he said with a silkiness that disguised pure steel.

      As Daisy’s mouth came open in a little O of surprise and indignation he continued looking at her steadily, and then, as she spluttered a bit and searched frantically for a retort that would be adequately scathing, he smiled, his teeth showing white and strong against the tanned skin of his face.

      ‘Look, we seem to have got off on the wrong foot again.’

      His voice was smooth and assured and she didn’t trust him an inch—which was awful really, she told herself in the next instant, when he had been nothing but kindness itself. Installing her in this fabulous room, offering to pay for her stay, expressing concern for her welfare… Her sense of unease grew and it wasn’t helped by the overwhelming sense of vulnerability she was feeling. He was so big and dark and masculine, and as she was lying here, virtually helpless, his virility and devastating magnetism were more than a little threatening.

      ‘Of course we haven’t got off on the wrong foot.’ She was lying through her teeth and they both knew it. ‘It’s just that I prefer to be independent and pay my own way—’

      ‘How do you intend to do that without a job and in your present condition?’ he interjected coolly.

      If he did that one more time she would let him know exactly what she thought of his high-handed arrogance, Daisy told herself furiously as she struggled to keep calm and answer him. Not that there was an answer as such…

      ‘I have a little money put by,’ she said stiffly through clenched teeth, ‘and the doctor has advised me it will only be a matter of a few weeks before I am fit again. Once I get work I shall start reimbursing you,’ she assured him firmly.

      ‘I understand you work with children?’ In contrast to her taut body and tight voice he was utterly relaxed, his voice soft and low as he watched every expression on her face.

      Daisy nodded, her eyes wary. The nurse really had been a little mine of information to her employer! ‘I’m a qualified nursery nurse,’ she affirmed quietly, ‘and I’d been at my last job for two years before the—’ She stopped abruptly. ‘Before I decided to leave and come to London,’ she continued quickly.

      The dark eyes had narrowed slightly at her hesitation but he made no comment, merely nodding slowly. ‘And of course you have references, certificates, that sort of thing?’ he asked easily.

      ‘Of course.’ Where was this leading? Daisy had the impression this conversation was more than mere social intercourse and she felt very uneasy now.

      ‘This is good.’ And he smiled slowly.

      For a moment the slight accent she had detected before was more evident, increasing the impression of foreignness his terminology had caused. Daisy didn’t smile back.

      ‘Is it?’ She stared at him. ‘Why?’ she asked bluntly.

      ‘I have a problem you might be able to help me with, Daisy,’ he said coolly, ‘and it would be a means of solving the present dilemma in a way that would suit us both. You seem determined to repay me—although it is not at all necessary—is that correct?’ He raised dark eyebrows as he waited for her reply.

      ‘It certainly is,’ she said firmly. He was the last man in all the world she wanted to feel an obligation to, and this room must be costing a small fortune. The accident had been all her fault, totally, and she wasn’t at all sure she hadn’t caused some damage to his car—although no doubt that would be covered by insurance. Nevertheless, she was deeply in his debt and it made her want to squirm. Oh, boy, didn’t it just!

      ‘I thought so.’ Black eyes met honey-brown. ‘Then perhaps if I outline the situation as I see it we can go from there?’ He didn’t wait for a response from her before he continued, ‘You are going to be somewhat incapacitated for two or three weeks, and, however large your nest-egg, rent and other living expenses will soon make a hole in your capital. Agreed?’

      Capital? She wouldn’t exactly call her four hundred pounds capital, Daisy thought bleakly. She had paid the rent on her minute bedsit three months in advance—thank goodness—but a few weeks with no salary would soon make her