Billionaire Bosses Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

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Название Billionaire Bosses Collection
Автор произведения Кэрол Мортимер
Жанр Короткие любовные романы
Серия Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Издательство Короткие любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474048286



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      ‘I just didn’t want to embarrass you.’

      ‘You’ve got a nerve,’ she breathed, feeling a return of the annoyance he could inflame so easily in her.

      ‘I’m only suggesting that you might have company tonight. What’s wrong with that?’

      Pippa drew a deep breath, but instantly checked herself.

      ‘No—no!’ She held up her hands with the air of someone backing off. ‘Let’s leave it for now. I’ll say it later, when you’re back in the land of the living.’

      ‘Thank you for that mercy,’ he said. ‘So when “later” comes I can expect to be knocked sideways, beaten to a pulp—’

      ‘Walked over with hobnailed boots,’ she agreed. ‘But first I’ll make you some supper.’

      ‘Just a little, thank you. I’ll probably fall asleep over it.’

      ‘Then I shall wake you and make you eat something anyway.’

      Roscoe gave her a look of appreciation. Then he followed her into the kitchen and tried to help, but finished up sitting on a stool, watching her out of bleary eyes.

      ‘It’s not just tiredness,’ he said. ‘It’s jet lag, which always hits me like a rock. I don’t know why I get it worse than most people. Everyone else seems to brush it off, but not me. And it’s not just the flight home. I’m still lagged from the flight out there, so I’m—’ he made a helpless gesture ‘—not at my best.’

      ‘That’s what comes of dashing off to conferences at the last minute,’ she suggested gently.

      ‘Yes, well…things happen. You can’t always plan for…’ again the gesture ‘…well, anyway…’

      ‘Did you hear anything useful while you were there? ‘ she asked in a neutral voice.

      ‘I couldn’t tell you,’ he said with a humorous sigh. ‘I can’t remember a thing.’

      ‘Is this Roscoe Havering talking?’ she asked lightly. ‘The man who makes the financial world tremble, whose tough decisions can shake the market—?’

      ‘Oh, shut up!’ he begged.

      She laughed. ‘Sorry.’

      ‘You’re not.’

      ‘Hey, you’re right. I’m not.’

      She made a light meal of scrambled eggs on toast, and he pleased her by eating every last crumb.

      ‘That was delicious. Do you want some help with the washing up?’

      ‘No, thank you,’ she said with more haste than politeness. ‘But you’ve made your offer so you can go and sit on the sofa with a clear conscience.’

      ‘That’s what I like. A woman who understands.’

      He wandered away with the air of a man who had arrived in heaven.

      When she joined him a few minutes later he said, ‘Do you really think Charlie’s protecting Ginevra? ‘

      ‘Oh, yes. But I can’t prove it without his help. I guess I’m just not doing my job properly. I haven’t beguiled him very well if he’s defending her against me.’

      ‘Charlie’s loyal. If he had feelings for her once, he wouldn’t drop her in it now.’

      ‘That’s nice of him but don’t you see what it means? ‘

      ‘It means my brother’s an idiot, but we knew that.’

      ‘It means I’ve failed. He was supposed to be so much under my spell that he’d do anything I said. Hah! Some spell! I’m useless.’

      ‘That’s enough. You’re not useless. It’s only been a few days.’

      ‘But you thought he’d take one look at me and become my willing slave,’ she said wryly. ‘Or something like that. This isn’t what you expected when you hired me. Perhaps you should get someone else.’

      ‘Someone else?’ he echoed. ‘Someone else with your eyes, your laughter, your charm? Is there anyone else? Pippa, you knocked Charlie sideways in the first moment.’

      ‘You’re just being kind.’

      ‘I’m not known for my kindness,’ he said drily. ‘And once you’d have been the first to say so. I knew from the start that you were exactly what I wanted—for Charlie, I mean. And you’re doing well. Look how you found out about this. I had no idea.’

      ‘But I’m failing.’

      ‘Why are you so hard on yourself? It’s not like you.’

      Now she was all at sea, taken by surprise by his understanding.

      ‘You don’t know what’s like me,’ she muttered.

      ‘Don’t I? Well, perhaps I’m learning, and perhaps the things I’m learning are surprising me.’

      She tried to be sensible, but it was hard with Roscoe’s gentle eyes on her.

      ‘Obviously I don’t have the hold on him that you wanted,’ she murmured.

      ‘I think you do. The other night, when you were dancing together and he tried to kiss you at the end—’

      ‘That didn’t mean anything,’ she said quickly. ‘He just saw it as part of the dance.’

      ‘But earlier that evening, when you were at the table and you—’

      ‘I didn’t kiss him.’

      ‘No, but you did this.’ Roscoe leaned forward, putting his hands on either side of her face and looking into her eyes. ‘You did this,’ he repeated. ‘Don’t you remember?’

      ‘Yes,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I remember now.’

      She waited for him to release her, but for some reason he didn’t. She had the strangest impression that he was imprisoned in himself, wanting to move but unable to. Then she knew that the feeling was there inside her also. His hands were warm and firm against her cheeks, his eyes uncertain and questioning as she’d never seen them before. How dark and mysterious they were, inviting her to explore depths that enticed her. His lips, so often set in a firm line, were slightly parted, the sound of his breathing reaching her softly.

      He’d been watching her all the time in the nightclub, she realised; not just dancing but when she was sitting at the table with Charlie, laughing with him, smiling at him. He’d noted every gesture, every moment of warmth.

      She felt a tremor go through her and realised that it came from him. He was shaking. She drew in a sharp breath and in the same moment he dropped his hands, as though the touch of her burned him.

      And she saw fear in his eyes.

      His alarm had an instant effect on her, reminding her of her own caution about getting too close.

      ‘You misunderstood what you saw,’ she said quickly. ‘It was just friendly. That’s all I can ever manage. Just friendly. That’s why you didn’t have to worry about me bringing anyone home tonight. I know what I look like, but it’s not real. People would be amazed to know how virtuously I live.’

      ‘I wouldn’t,’ he murmured, but she didn’t hear him.

      ‘It’s all front, all presentation,’ she hurried on, gabbling slightly. ‘So I suppose that makes me a tease. I meet a man, we go out, have a good time, exchange a few kisses—oh, yes, I don’t deny that—and he thinks that sooner or later he’s going to have a night of pleasure. I don’t intentionally deceive them, but pretty soon I realise that I can’t go through with it. He isn’t “the one” and the kindest thing to do is tell him.’

      ‘Yes, I saw that the first night,’ he reminded