The Complete Red-Hot And Historical Collection. Kelly Hunter

meet with him to discuss things until you get out of hospital?’

      Once more he was apologetic. ‘I’m afraid I can’t risk waiting that long. I need to sell the place as quickly as I can to free up some money for my care. I’m asking you to handle the sale for me, Rose. I’ve contacted my solicitor and he’ll draw up the necessary papers. This is his name and number.’

      He opened the bedside drawer, took out a single sheet of vellum that he’d written on and handed it to her.

      ‘Anything you need to know, he’ll explain.’

      ‘It seems that you’ve made up your mind, then.’ Frowning, Rose felt her muscles clench tight at the idea of once again coming face to face with Gene Bonnaire and knowing that this time he would be the one who had the advantage and would undoubtedly use it for all he was worth...

      ‘Yes, my dear...I have.’

      ‘Then I’ll see to things right away. In the meantime you should try and rest as much as possible. The last thing you need is to be stressed about anything.’

      Smiling fondly, Philip patted her hand as it lay on the counterpane. ‘I should have told you this before, Rose... I don’t know how I would have managed these past ten years without you. Without question, your loyalty, friendship and hard work have been invaluable and if I had been a much younger man I don’t doubt I would have fallen a little bit in love with you.’

      Feeling her cheeks glow warmly, Rose smiled back—even as she remembered Gene Bonnaire’s ridiculous implication that her relationship with her boss might not be just a working one. What she’d give to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his handsome face when next she saw him! Only she couldn’t. She had to be nice to him because Philip urgently needed this sale. The last thing she would do was jeopardise things just because the man had rattled her.

      But then, as she recalled that he’d asked her if other people ever reciprocated her kindness to them, she knew that the man had much more sensitivity than his very public persona suggested and thought that it would be intriguing to discover more...

      ‘It’s sweet of you to say so,’ she answered Philip, ‘but to be frank I think I’m destined to stay single. I’ve only been in love once in my life and it wasn’t the happiest of experiences. I’m not eager to do it again.’

      ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Don’t you believe that it might be different the next time? Not so painful, I mean?’

      ‘No, I don’t. I don’t because—present company not included—I don’t trust men. I think I’d be better off on my own.’ She shrugged. ‘Besides, I’m far too independent, and men sense that. It would take someone pretty exceptional to get me to change my mind and I haven’t yet met anyone who fits that particular bill.’

      ‘Not yet, you haven’t, Rose, but you will...you will.’

      With a knowing smile, the man in the hospital bed closed his eyes and, leaving him to doze, she folded the sheet of notepaper he’d given her, slipped it into her bag and discreetly left...

       CHAPTER THREE

      STANDING IN ONE of his magnificent rooms, where huge plate-glass windows overlooked the ocean, Gene took the call from his secretary informing him that Rose Heathcote had requested a meeting. By the time he ended the call he was feeling more than vindicated. There could only be one reason why the feisty brunette wanted to see him, and that must be to convey the news that her boss had finally agreed to his offer.

      He was elated. All his fantasies about owning the gracious building beside the Thames and turning it into the finest restaurant imaginable were becoming a dazzling reality in his mind.

      He already knew the people he wanted to hire—both to do the renovations and to create and provide the cuisine that would be second to none. He had the private numbers of some of the finest chefs and sommeliers in the country, and he wasn’t above using his money and power to entice them away from their current exclusive establishments. Before much time had passed the place would be up and running and he would be welcoming anybody who was anybody and yet again demonstrating to the world just how far drive and ambition could take a person if they were dedicated enough.

       Make no mistake. Eugene Bonnaire was a force to be reckoned with.

      His parents had never understood his ambition and drive for more...more money, more success, more everything... But they had both come from humble families in France, with barely a franc to keep body and soul together—hardworking folk who had barely eked out a sustainable living.

      ‘Our families may not have always had enough food to put on the table but there was no lack of love in our homes,’ his mother had often told him.

      But the very idea of not having the most basic requirements had pained their son. No matter how much love they’d had, their lives had been pretty grim when they were growing up. Was it any wonder that Gene wanted so much more, to obliterate the stain of his ancestors’ impoverished past?

      Yes, his parents had made an admirable success of their East London restaurant, and their teaching him to cook at a young age had been a great platform for him to hone his culinary skills—a fact for which he was eternally grateful. It was that which had led to him becoming a much lauded chef, then a successful restaurateur. Add to that some eye-popping lucrative investments and the sky was his limit... But it had always been beyond him that his parents couldn’t see that they could have had so much more for themselves...weren’t even interested.

      Breathing out a sigh, he rubbed his hand over his chest. It had been several months now since he’d paid them a visit and he knew they must be concerned. But he guessed that they didn’t want to put pressure on him in case he did the unthinkable and cut them out of his life for good. He would never do such a thing... God knew they’d suffered enough.

      When Gene had been just nine years old they had lost his little sister, Francesca, to a stomach virus. She had been only three. That shattering experience had changed them all. His mother had used to smile so easily—but not any more... There was always the sense that something vital and irreplaceable was missing when they were together, and of course there was...

      Ever since that time Gene had sought to compensate his parents for their loss. If he became successful, he had reasoned, they would be so proud of him, and in turn he could ensure they enjoyed a comfortable old age. But somehow his success and ambition hadn’t seemed to overly impress them. It was the one area in his life where he felt a failure. Consequently, his relationship with them had begun to deteriorate.

      Feeling as though he’d lost the ability to properly connect with them, he had turned in on himself to protect his emotions. Inevitably, his other relationships had suffered. Women sensed that he wasn’t available emotionally, and now the only women he seemed to attract were the ones who liked his wealth and what it could buy for them... That being the case, he’d decided to keep his liaisons short and sweet. More meaningful and longer-term relationships definitely weren’t on his agenda...

      But as he crossed the polished parquet floor to the door unbidden he suddenly found himself recalling the incandescent violet of Rose Heathcote’s eyes. Without a doubt the woman intrigued and excited him. Gene mused that perhaps she wouldn’t be so averse to his company now, when she would in effect be coming to him cap in hand because Philip Houghton had finally seen the sense in agreeing to sell him the shop. In any case, it meant that Gene would have the upper hand, and the diminutive Rose would no doubt have to swallow her pride and be nice to him.

      He had no intention of making things easy for her either. Having not long ago arrived at his personal retreat on a remote Scottish island—the one place where he could genuinely enjoy some respite and didn’t have to contend with petty jealousies and criticism from press and public alike—he wasn’t about to charge back to London to sign the papers for purchase in a hurry. Not when the tide had just turned in his favour. No,