The Unwilling Mistress. Carole Mortimer

silly of us not to have realized that.’

      May gave a weary shake of her head, obviously deciding that the best thing to do for the moment was to just give up apologizing for March’s lack of manners. ‘Enjoy the pie, Will,’ she murmured ruefully. ‘And if there’s anything else you need, more towels, things like that, you have only to ask.’

      ‘We’ll send one of the maids over with it immediately,’ March muttered disparagingly.

      Will could see by the sudden fire that lit May’s gaze that she wasn’t always the calm, sensible sister, that she could be cutting herself when she felt it necessary. And he had a feeling that she would feel it necessary, where March was concerned, the moment he had gone out the door!

      Which was a pity; he really didn’t want to be the reason for any dissent between the two sisters. Even if March deserved it!

      ‘This pie looks delicious, March, thanks,’ he told her warmly.

      She frowned at him suspiciously, but as he calmly returned her gaze that frown eased from between her eyes. ‘You’re welcome,’ she finally murmured lightly.

      ‘Thanks for dinner, May, it was great.’ Will lingered in the doorway, having absolutely no idea why he was having such trouble getting out of the kitchen now that it was time to go—especially as it was his own decision to do so!

      ‘Don’t forget to return the compliment,’ March was the one to remind him pointedly.

      He hadn’t forgotten his earlier suggestion, Will acknowledged a little dazedly as he made his way back across the yard to the studio—he was just no longer sure he could cope with taking one Calendar sister out to dinner, let alone two!

      He felt slightly disorientated after being with them for less than an hour, slightly dazed, as if he had drunk too much wine in a smoke-filled room—how on earth was he going to feel after spending an evening with them?

      One thing he did know, he would have to clear his head before making his telephone call to Jude. A Jude, Will knew with certainty, who was going to be far from happy at Max’s obvious defection to the enemy camp…

       CHAPTER FOUR

      ‘IT’S only lunch I’m suggesting, March, not an afternoon in a hotel bedroom!’ Clive looked down at her mockingly as he perched on the edge of her desk.

      March knew exactly what the male half of her employers was inviting her to—she also knew he wouldn’t have made the suggestion about the two of them having lunch together if Michelle weren’t out for the day showing a client over several different properties. Besides, she also knew that if Clive thought he could get away with it he would have no hesitation in taking her to a hotel bedroom for the afternoon!

      While March was normally blunt to the point of rudeness—as Will Davenport had discovered to his cost the previous evening!—Clive’s attentions over the last six months, whenever Michelle had been out of the office, were something March hadn’t liked to tell her sisters about. There was nothing anyone could do about it, and they needed the money she earned from this full-time job. Besides, she doubted she was the first employee to suffer this sort of harassment.

      It wasn’t even that Clive was unattractive, because he wasn’t; the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, with an easy charm as an added bonus. He just also happened to have been living with Michelle, the other half of this estate agency, for the last ten years!

      ‘I said no, Clive,’ she answered him calmly enough, grey-green gaze glacial as she glared her annoyance at him. For all the good it did. She had been saying no for the last six months, but it didn’t stop Clive from repeating the offer whenever the chance arose. ‘You know very well we can’t just shut up shop for a couple of hours and disappear off to lunch,’ she dismissed briskly. ‘Besides, I—I already have a date for lunch,’ she added with relief, having looked out of the window at that moment and seen a familiar red sports car drive slowly into the square.

      Will Davenport’s car, with him sitting confidently behind the wheel as he found a parking space directly behind March’s more serviceable Metro. He gave her a friendly wave as he got out of the car and saw her watching him out of the window.

      ‘If you’ll excuse me.’ March stood up hurriedly, moving quickly to open the door and call out to Will before he could lock his car and just walk away. ‘I’ll be out in a minute, Will,’ she called out to him lightly, willing him to wait for her.

      He turned, a puzzled frown on that handsome face. ‘Sorry?’ He looked totally nonplussed.

      ‘I’m just getting my coat,’ she told him firmly, aware that Clive had come to stand beside her in the doorway now, a knowing smile curving his lips as he took in the car and the man driving it.

      Will turned his cool blue gaze on Clive Carter, that gaze narrowing as he obviously saw the other man’s too familiar stance next to March, his arm resting against the door behind her. ‘No hurry,’ Will answered in measured tones. ‘I’ll come inside and wait for you,’ he added with another speculative glance at Clive.

      That wasn’t quite what she had wanted, March realized flusteredly as she made a quick grab for her coat and handbag; having these two men size each other up in silent appraisal was more than a little unnerving. Especially as she could now clearly see the speculation in Clive’s mocking grey eyes.

      ‘Nice car,’ he murmured softly. ‘A Ferrari, isn’t it?’

      A Ferrari? March did a mental double-take on Will herself now. Okay, so she had realized it was a sporty-looking car, but all she basically required from a car was that it start up in the morning when she needed to get to work. But Ferraris cost tens of thousands of pounds, didn’t they? Maybe there was more to Will Davenport than she had realized!