His Child: The Mistress's Child / Nathan's Child / D'Alessandro's Child. Catherine Spencer

wayward thoughts.

      She watched him finish every crumb on his plate and decided to show him how efficient she could be. ‘Right then, Mr Caprice—let me find these properties for you to have a look at—Jonathon has sorted them all out for you.’

      She bent her head as she began flicking through an old-fashioned filing box, and Philip felt an uncomfortable and unwanted fluttering of awareness as he looked at the ebony sheen of her hair and the long, elegant line of her neck.

      Out of necessity, he had schooled himself not to be tempted by women, and certainly not women who were such a devastating combination of the innocent and the sensual, but for once he felt his resolve waver.

      ‘Here we are.’ Lisi found the last of what she was looking for, and held them out to him.

      He noticed the way that the tip of her tongue protruded from between her teeth when she was concentrating. Tiny and pink. Shiny. He swallowed. ‘Thanks.’ He leaned across the desk and took the sheaf of house details from her.

      ‘Jonathon should be back any minute, unless—’ she gave him her most hopeful smile ‘—you’d like me to show you round?’ She would have to leave the office unattended for a while, but Jonathon would be back from lunch any minute. She saw him frown and hoped that hadn’t sounded like some sort of come-on. She blushed. ‘I know I’m relatively inexperienced, but I’d be more than happy to.’

      She seemed sweet and uncomplicated, and he couldn’t deny that he wasn’t tempted, but he steeled his heart against temptation.

      ‘Listen, Jonathon knows me pretty well. He knows the kind of thing I like.’ He saw her face fall, as if he’d struck her a blow, and he felt the sweet remains of the birthday cake in his mouth and sighed. ‘Maybe next time, perhaps?’

      This cheered Lisi up considerably, and later, when Jonathon had come back from the viewings and Philip had gone, she began to quiz him in a very casual way.

      ‘He seems nice,’ she offered.

      Jonathon was busy writing up the offer which Philip Caprice had just made on some sprawling mid-Victorian mansion. ‘Nice? Huh! Ruthless would be a better description! He’s just got himself a terrific property at a knockdown price—beats me how he does it!’

      ‘Maybe he’s just a good businessman?’ suggested Lisi serenely.

      Jonathon scowled. ‘Meaning I’m not, I suppose?’

      ‘No, of course not—that wasn’t what I meant at all!’ Lisi glanced over his shoulder. ‘Anyway—that isn’t far off the asking price, is it?’

      ‘True.’ Jonathon sighed. ‘If only he hadn’t managed to wheedle out of the owner that they were desperate for a quick sale we might have held out for the full price.’

      ‘I thought we were supposed to tell the vendor to keep out of negotiations with the purchaser, wherever possible?’

      ‘I did,’ said Jonathon glumly, then added, ‘Only it was a woman. She took one look at him and decided to give him a gushingly guided tour of the place—only unfortunately it backfired. After that, he had her eating out of his hand and she’s several thousand pounds out of pocket as a result.’

      So was that ruthless, or just good business-sense? Whatever it was, it wasn’t really surprising—Lisi thought that he could probably have any woman eating out of his hand.

      ‘What’s he like?’ she asked. ‘As a person?’

      ‘Who knows?’ Jonathon shrugged. ‘He keeps his cards very close to his chest. I’ve dealt with him on and off for ages and I know next to nothing about him—’

      Other than the very obvious attributes of being rich and gorgeous and irresistible to women, thought Lisi and put him out of her mind.

      Until next time he came in.

      Jonathon had gone to do some photocopying in the back room, and Lisi looked up to see the strikingly tall figure standing in the doorway and her heart gave a queer lurch. She frowned, shocked by the deep lines of strain which were etched onto his face.

      Now there, she thought, is a man who is driving himself much too hard.

      Philip glanced across the room to see the Birthday Girl sitting at her desk and smiling at him, and realised that he didn’t even know her name.

      ‘Hello, Mr Caprice!’ she said cheerfully.

      Reluctantly he smiled back—but there was something about her which made him want to smile. ‘I think the trade-off for your delicious cake was that we should be on first-ame terms, don’t you? Except that I don’t know yours.’

      ‘It’s Lisi—short for Elisabeth. Lisi Vaughan.’

      Pretty name, he thought, and the question seemed to come out of nowhere. ‘So are you going to show me around today, Lisi Vaughan?’

      Lisi gulped, her heart banging excitedly in her chest. ‘Are you sure you want me to?’

      ‘Only if you’re confident you can.’

      She knew that confidence was the name of the game—particularly in selling—and why on earth should her confidencedesert her just because she was about to accompany the most delicious man she had ever seen? She gave him her most assured smile. ‘Oh, yes. I’m confident! That’s if Jonathon doesn’t mind.’

      ‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t,’ he said easily.

      Jonathon knew better than to argue with his most prestigious client. ‘Sure,’ he agreed. ‘Let’s throw her in at the deep end!’

      The viewing was unsuccessful—at least from a buying point of view. Philip tore the places to pieces in his car as he drove her back to the office afterwards.

      ‘Overpriced!’ he scorned. ‘I don’t know how people can ask that much—not when you consider how run-down the property is! And when you look what they’ve done to the garden—that garage they’ve built is nothing short of monstrous!’

      ‘You didn’t like it, then?’ asked Lisi meekly.

      He swiftly turned his head and, seeing her expression, laughed. ‘Oh, very perceptive,’ he murmured sardonically. ‘You were good, Lisi,’ he added unexpectedly.

      ‘Was I?’

      ‘Very good.’ She had diplomatically left the monstrous garage until last and drawn his attention to all the good points in the house, but not in an in-your-face kind of way. She was chatty, but not intrusive, beautiful yet not flirtatious. In other words, she was a little like a glass of water—refreshing, but without any pernicious undertaste.

      He sighed. Most of the women he met these days were nurses, and then only in a grimly professional capacity. Not that he wanted to meet women, of course he didn’t—not with Carla lying so…so…

      He flinched and changed gear more aggressively than he had intended to.

      ‘It’s a shame there’s nothing else you’re interested in,’ Lisi was saying. ‘I’ll keep an eye out for your dream house!’

      He threw her a rather mocking look. ‘Do you think there is such a thing?’

      Lisi thought of her mother’s house and gave a slow smile. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said in a soft voice, and smiled. ‘Very, very definitely.’

      He smiled back, but the smile died on his lips as he forced himself to look away from the slender outline of her legs, relieved when Langley High Street came into view and he was able to draw up outside her office.

      ‘Thanks very much,’ she said as she began to push open the door. ‘I enjoyed that!’

      ‘No, thank you,’ he said gravely, but as soon as she had slammed the door closed behind her, he made the car pull away. He didn’t want to watch her confident young stride as she walked to the office, or the