Defying The Billionaire's Command. Michelle Conder

hadn’t intended to,’ Dare said coldly, and Carly felt her shoulders relax slightly as he declined. ‘But if it’s okay with Miss Evans perhaps I will.’

      If it was okay with her? Carly’s spine snapped straight. Why would he put this on her?

      ‘Of course it’s all right with me,’ she said, too brightly.

      ‘Very good.’ She felt the Baron’s relief as he exhaled. ‘Shall we adjourn to the dining room? I, for one, am very eager to find out what Mrs Carlisle has prepared in your honour, Dare, and I do so enjoy eating my food without indigestion. Roberts, if you would be so kind as to set another place at the table?’

      ‘Very good, sir.’

      For a moment Carly thought—hoped—that Dare was going to change his mind, but then he shrugged.

      ‘I haven’t eaten anything decent since breakfast. Lead the way, old man.’

      She felt the Baron tense as he cupped her elbow and she wanted to strangle Dare James with her bare hands. She was quite sure that whatever bad blood was between these men it didn’t warrant this level of disrespect.

      Reminding herself that it really wasn’t any of her business, and that she was here for the Baron and the Baron alone, Carly let him lead her out of the room, acutely aware of Dare’s cold eyes on her as she moved past.

      She was infinitely glad that she’d taken the time with her appearance before dinner. And she told herself that she hadn’t done so on the off chance that she’d run into this horrible stranger again...she’d done it because...yes, okay, she had wondered if she’d run into him in passing and she’d somehow felt that she’d need armour if she did. Well, she’d certainly got that right. And she had no idea how she was going to make it through a whole dinner if the Baron’s grandson didn’t start playing nice.

      ‘You’ve done well for yourself, Dare,’ the Baron said as they were all seated at the large dining table.

      ‘Unlike my loser father, you mean?’

      The Baron sighed. ‘I didn’t mean to sound as if I was passing judgment.’ He moved aside as a plate was placed in front of him. ‘Though you do seem to have inherited your father’s acerbic wit.’

      Score one for the older gentleman, Carly thought, completely disconcerted when she glanced across the table to find Dare staring at her.

      ‘That’s not all I inherited,’ Dare bit out tautly.

      ‘Duck à l’orange,’ the Baron said, inhaling the fragrance as the servant stepped back. ‘My favourite.’

      Carly gave him a secret smile. ‘I do relent sometimes,’ she teased.

      ‘This is all very nice,’ Dare bit out, not hiding the fact that he didn’t think it was nice at all. ‘But I didn’t come here to discuss food or to make small talk.’

      Tension crossed the table like laser beams.

      ‘I can see that,’ the Baron said. He put down his fork. ‘What did you come for, Dare? To put me in my place?’

      ‘It’s no less than you deserve.’

      ‘I’m not going to argue with you about that,’ Benson said quietly, ‘but you have to understand I’ve only recently become abridged of your father’s death. And of the fact that Rachel must have struggled for years afterwards. That she even had a child. You!’

      ‘And you think that entitles you to contact her?’ Dare said with barely leashed fury. ‘You rejected her. You kicked her out when she chose my father over your archaic expectations. But she doesn’t need you now. She’s doing fine.’

      ‘Thanks to you,’ Benson acknowledged softly.

      ‘My mother is a strong woman with high morals. She would have made it fine without me.’

      Completely shocked by Dare’s revelations, Carly felt like an interloper with no idea how to ease the tension between the two men.

      ‘Perhaps we should save this conversation for when we’re alone.’ The Baron touched Carly’s hand as he spoke and she realised she had a forkful of food held halfway to her mouth. ‘There’s no need to ruin Carly’s appetite, hmm?’

      ‘But it was okay to ruin my mother’s life?’ Dare’s gaze was harsh when it landed on her again and her heart thumped behind her breastbone. ‘By all means.’ He stabbed a morsel of food on his plate. ‘Let’s not upset the lovely Carly. Tell me, Miss Evans, how long have you known my grandfather?’

      Clearing her throat, and glad for the opportunity to turn the conversation away from the Baron in case it ratcheted up his blood pressure, Carly smiled politely. ‘A few months now.’ She had met Benson at a nearby clinic when he’d first presented with breathing problems and when he’d learned she was temping he’d requested her services.

      ‘And when did you move in?’

      Distracted by his mesmerising blue eyes, she took a sip of her sparkling wine. ‘Three weeks ago. I...’ She stopped, realising that she was about to reveal the reason for her stay. ‘I—’

      ‘I know of Carly’s family,’ Benson cut in to save her. ‘A happy coincidence really. Our ancestors fought together against the Jacobite Rebellion in 1715. Carly is the relative of a famous viscount.’

      Dare curled his lip as if he couldn’t have cared if she were directly in line to the throne. And her heritage hardly counted when she was the distant cousin of a cousin, and her family had lived a very humble existence for well over a century now.

      ‘Excuse me, sir,’ Roberts said, approaching Benson. ‘A phone call has come through. I think you’ll want to take it.’

      ‘Fine, Roberts. Thank you.’

      Looking irritated at the interruption, Benson pushed to his feet and took the hands-free phone proffered by the butler. He frowned in Carly and Dare’s direction. ‘I apologise for this interruption.’

      As soon as the door closed behind him Carly was acutely aware of the antique clock ticking away in the corner of the room and the lean, powerful male regarding her across the table.

      Dare James was too big, too sure of himself, and too arrogant for her liking. Oh, he didn’t exactly have Daniel’s air of cultured superiority over others—something she hadn’t noticed until Daniel had well and truly humiliated her—no, Dare’s was more a latent power that drew the eye and let everyone around him know that he was in charge. Which was just as bad.

      The T-shirt he wore did little to contain the bulge in his biceps and he looked as if he had the strength to rip a giant oak out of the ground and snap it in half. Right now he looked as if he wanted to snap her in half.

      A shiver raced down her spine at the memory of those large hands skimming over her, leaving her hot and bothered. She’d attributed her earlier physical response to the heat of the day and her worry over Gregory muddling her senses. Now she knew that it was her feminine instincts signalling danger with capital letters and she was listening. This time, she was definitely listening.

      ‘More wine, Miss Evans?’

      Carly regarded him warily as he picked up the wine bottle. As tempted as she was to settle her sudden nervousness with more alcohol, Carly knew drinking any more would put her at a disadvantage with this man. ‘No, thank you.’ She cleared her throat, searching around her frazzled mind for something to say. ‘So, is this your first time at Rothmeyer House?’ she asked.

      ‘You mean you don’t know?’

      ‘No,’ she said politely, her mind still absorbing what she had heard about his family history. ‘Should I?’

      Dare watched her nibble on the corner of her lower lip and he almost felt sorry for her. Then he remembered why she was even here and felt like snarling. ‘I would have thought so.’

      ‘I