The Complete Red-Hot And Historical Collection. Kelly Hunter

captivated by the gigantic waves crashing violently against the rocks on the shoreline.

      ‘Storm’s getting wilder...’ he murmured.

      ‘Do they bother you...storms, I mean?’

      Turning to smile at the woman Gene now realised was innately curious, he felt a frisson of excitement throb through him. What else might Rose be curious about if he were to delve a little deeper? he wondered.

      ‘They don’t bother me at all. I certainly don’t fear them, if that’s what you’re getting at. The more wild and furious they are the better, as far as I’m concerned. As you commented earlier, Rose, the unpredictable quality of nature is an ever-present reminder that people aren’t in control of everything...even though some of us might like to think we are.’

      His companion looked genuinely surprised. ‘Forgive me, but I never guessed you could be so philosophical. You definitely gave me the impression that you’re a man who likes to be firmly in control.’

      For a long moment Gene contemplated the remark. Rose’s deceptively calm demeanour gave no clue as to how feisty she was, or indeed how challenging she could be. Yet again he was taken aback that she dared to be so candid with her opinions. He wasn’t used to that. It was true that he prided himself on being in control, but he didn’t particularly enjoy it being pointed out to him. It might give his opposition an advantage. He also liked to steer the direction his conversations went in, so that they didn’t stray into areas he didn’t want them to go. He had a genuine fear of being exposed, of being seen as vulnerable in any way.

      Biting back his irritation, he asked, ‘And what about you, Rose? Do you like storms?’

      As she set down her mug of hot chocolate on the table her expression was uneasy. ‘Not particularly. To tell you the truth, they scare me. Not so much the wind and the rain, or even the thunder...it’s the lightning I don’t like. I’ve always been afraid of it. Once when I was little there was the most terrifying storm one night. Some lightning hit our greenhouse and shattered all the glass. It was like a bomb exploding. I was afraid to go back to sleep in case it happened again. No doubt that event has programmed me to be afraid of it for life. I have occasionally thought of getting some therapy...’

      Finding himself intrigued, Gene moved back to the couch and sat down—but this time he deliberately positioned himself a little closer to Rose. ‘It’s not therapy you need, ma chère, but courage.’

      ‘I’m not a coward.’

      ‘Did I suggest that you were? Everyone has something they’re afraid of. It’s only human. No, what I’m saying is that you have to face your fears head-on. Expose them for what they are.’

      ‘And what are they?’

      Rose’s voice had nervously dropped a little lower, and Gene saw the child she’d once been, too afraid to go back to sleep after lightning had shattered her greenhouse. It made him feel fiercely protective of her.

      ‘They’re just illusions. Thoughts in your head that don’t serve you... Don’t let them get the better of you or they’ll dictate what you can and can’t do for the rest of your life.’

      ‘Is that how you handle your fears, Gene?’

      For a sensually charged moment he absorbed the prickles of warmth that flared in his belly at the sound of his name on her lips, then he replied, ‘Thankfully, they rarely arise for me—but, yes...that’s how I handle them.’

      ‘You mean there are no ifs or buts or maybes?’

      ‘I don’t let anything stop me from getting what I want, Rose—least of all doubt.’

      ‘That’s obviously why you appear to be so fearless, then?’

      He didn’t like it that she’d said appear. It suggested there was an element of doubt in her mind—that the confident image he projected wasn’t all it seemed. Yet again Rose Heathcote was pushing all his hot buttons and the conversation was definitely taking a direction he didn’t appreciate.

      It seriously bothered him that he should be so unsettled by a woman, and he quickly sought to reassert his position.

      ‘What you see with me is what you get, sweetheart. I don’t need to resort to pretence. If you’d ever read my résumé you’d know that’s a fact. My success speaks for itself. Now, as interesting as it undoubtedly is, I think we should bring this little conversation to an end. We’ll both need something to eat soon, and I plan on cooking us dinner.’

      Surprised, Rose quickly got to her feet. ‘I don’t want you to go to any trouble. A simple snack will do. I don’t need a full-blown meal.’

      ‘Say that to any top chef and they’re likely to eject you from the restaurant. Food is more than just essential fuel, Rose... Great food is manna from heaven. A “simple snack” is not, and you won’t be getting any such thing from me.’

      Tucking her hair behind her ear, she felt her cheeks turn arrestingly pink. ‘I meant no offence. But if you’re insisting on cooking us a meal then the least I can do is help you...’

      Gene immediately warmed to the idea. So much so, he couldn’t suppress a grin. ‘So your talents go beyond being a devoted and able assistant in the antiques trade?’

      She immediately looked stung. ‘I’m not just an assistant. I’m a dealer in my own right.’

      ‘Ah... That tells me that being valued and admired for your achievements does matter to you. We’re not so different after all, are we? Very well, you can be my sous-chef tonight. Let’s go into the kitchen and we’ll get started.’

      * * *

      Gene handed Rose a white chef’s apron and rolled up his sleeves. The tanned skin of his forearms looked silky smooth, and was dusted with a fine coating of dark hair.

      As the rain thundered against the roof with increasing force, and the waves at the shoreline spewed icy foam against the jagged rocks, he instructed her on where she could locate the essential items they needed. The stunningly vast ‘space age’ kitchen didn’t reveal its secrets easily. Drawers opened with the lightest touch, or a hand held in front of a discreet sensor, and the refrigerator and freezer looked as if they’d been designed by someone who excelled in writing sci-fi.

      Rose’s heart knocked anxiously against her ribs at being part of a scenario she would never have envisaged in a thousand years. From their first meeting Gene Bonnaire had challenged her. His too-confident air and superior manner unsettled her more than just a little. Add to that his reputation for acquiring anything he wanted simply because his money dictated that he could, in truth there was little to commend him to Rose.

      She had never been the kind of woman who was easily impressed by a man, no matter what his credentials. A good character—someone honourable and loyal—that was what she secretly wanted in a man.

      She’d once foolishly fallen for a stockbroker who had professed himself to be madly in love with her and wanted to marry her. But, although briefly dazzled by his declarations of adoration and devotion, Rose had soon found out that it was all a game to him. It had stroked his ego to think that she couldn’t live without him. He’d enjoyed the power he had imagined it gave him over her. But his ambition to make money and go much further in his career had been his top priority—not her. And when she’d found out that she wasn’t the only woman he professed to adore Rose had vowed never to make such a painful mistake again and had ended the relationship.

      The man her mother had left her father for was also driven by money and status, and he was insufferably arrogant. Rose had not had cause to change her opinion in all the years she had known him. All she saw when she looked at David Carlisle was the man who had selfishly charmed her mother with his money and his looks just because it had stroked his ego to win over a happily married woman and—having won her—destroy her family.

      When her mother, Ruth, had left it had been the first time Rose