Gracious Lady
Carole Mortimer
Carole Mortimer is one of Mills & Boon’s best loved Modern Romance authors. With nearly 200 books published and a career spanning 35 years, Mills & Boon are thrilled to present her complete works available to download for the very first time! Rediscover old favourites - and find new ones! - in this fabulous collection…Her passionate billionaire…First married to a cruel gambler, then widowed, Sophie finds life is hard. Yet she is a determined, independent woman and when she is employed as a companion for the equally determined daughter of handsome, headstrong billionaire, Maximilian Grant, a battle of wills and mixed emotions ensues with her charge’s father!But Max's inquisitive probing of Sophie's background causes even more tension—her scandalous family history is none of his business! And as they come to blows again, the passion between them soon threatens to ignite a fire neither can control…!
Gracious Lady
Carole Mortimer
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#u4b162f0f-824c-5c74-999f-69b539ef909e)
Title Page (#u8772b98d-90bb-5b63-b0d5-a6d23ac2588d)
CHAPTER ONE (#ua2fd6ced-823b-5e0a-a507-0b28435d4496)
CHAPTER TWO (#uf43e34f0-de49-5f6b-a621-8c7f8eb07a4e)
CHAPTER THREE (#uc3cae44a-7bc3-5c14-85c8-cb28f219b448)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_eeedadcf-f647-5443-a342-94c132a023be)
‘HOW dare you?’ Sophie had cried with righteous indignation. ‘Stop this car immediately and let me out!’
And what had the heartless swine done?
Stopped the car immediately and almost pushed her out on to the grass verge beside the road!
Which was precisely why, at this moment, she was walking along that very same road at almost one o’clock in the morning, cursing all men, and Brian Burnett in particular. What a louse, what an absolute pig, leaving her out here in the middle of nowhere–even if that was exactly what she had ordered him to do. Men never–at least, not the ones she had experience of!—did what you asked them to do. Except Brian Burnett, obviously! Although she was aware he had acted out of pique and not through any desire to be obliging; she hadn’t been willing to give him what he wanted, and so he had been perfectly happy to stop his car and let her get out, driving off at great speed and leaving her there.
And he hadn’t come back, damn him. Most men would have realised, eventually, just what a swine they had been just to dump her here in the middle of nowhere, but she had been walking for almost fifteen minutes now, and there was no sign of car headlights returning towards her.
Swine. Pig. Swine. Pig. She muttered the two names alternately with each step she took.
She just hoped her aunt Millie had left the back door open for her, or she was really going to be popular, arriving at one-thirty in the morning, which she had calculated it was going to be by the time she got back, and having to drag her aunt out of bed to let her in!
Maybe she shouldn’t have gone out at all tonight, but her friend Ally had called, and it had been so long since she had seen her, and–God, how her feet ached in these high-heeled shoes she was unaccustomed to wearing. She couldn’t remember the last time she had worn them, or a skirt either for that matter–denims and T-shirts were her usual mode of dress. But Ally had said they would be going out for a drink in a local pub, and so she had made the effort and put on a green blouse, which she had tucked into the narrow waistband of her brown skirt.
There was a car coming! She could see the headlights clearly as it approached–from a direction opposite to the one it would have been if it were Brian returning for her after all. And she was all alone here, she reminded herself hurriedly, her first feelings of relief fading fast; what if the driver of this car were even worse than Brian had been? Of course, the driver of this car could always be a woman—— No, not the way her luck was running tonight, it couldn’t!
Too late; while she had been dithering about wondering what to do for the best, the car had already reached her, whooshing to a halt beside her as the driver must have seen her reflected in his headlights. Oh, God, let the driver be friendly!
‘Are you asking to be raped?”
Not that friendly, Sophie gulped. No woman asked to be raped. But this man, his face thrown into sharp, shadowed profile by the eerie green light given off by the dashboard of his car, his voice a harshly cold rasp of accusation, obviously believed that, by wandering about country roads in the middle of the night, that was exactly what she was asking for!
‘Or worse!’ he continued relentlessly, his eyes glittering in the darkness.
He was trying to frighten her–wasn’t he…? Well, he needn’t bother, because she was already frightened!
‘Get in the car,’ he ordered abruptly, his tone brooking no argument.
Get in the——! She might be slightly stupid, but she wasn’t completely witless. Once she got inside his car she would be completely at his mercy. ‘I think I should warn you——’ she raised her small pointed chin defensively, drawing herself up to her full height of five feet two inches ’—that I’ve studied karate.’ Hadn’t everyone seen at least one of the cult films on the subject? She only hoped she wouldn’t actually be put to the test of demonstrating just how much she had ‘studied’ it, because it certainly didn’t amount to much.
‘That’s nice for you–now get in the car!’ The instruction was repeated with harsh impatience, completely nullifying his initially mild tone.
Sophie swallowed hard, frantically trying to estimate how far she would get if she ran in the high heels that were already crippling her feet–she was sure she had blisters on her toes–before he could put the car back into gear and catch up with her. The alternative, of attempting to cross fields on a less-than-moonlit night, she had dismissed almost as soon as it entered her head. It would just be pure madness on her part even to try to get away from this man that way. But she didn’t think she was going to get very far by running either; the car engine sounded powerful even though it was only ticking over at the moment, and she would probably just antagonise this man even further by putting him to the trouble of having to come after her. Oh, God, she didn’t know what to do, and she could feel his impatience with her increasing by the second.
‘You either get in the car and let me drive you into the village, or I call the police and put them to the trouble of coming out to pick you up,’ he warned in a dangerously soft voice.
‘Oh, yes!’ Sophie pounced eagerly on the latter suggestion. Not that she actually intended remaining here to get picked up by the police; Aunt Millie would have a fit if she was driven back in a police car! But if she could just get this man to leave, she could make sure she was well away from here by the time the police came along. ‘That sounds like a great idea,’ she encouraged enthusiastically. ‘There’s a telephone in the village——’
‘I have a car phone,’ he cut in derisively.
A car phone! Why hadn’t she thought of that? Damn modern technology! A few years ago it hadn’t been possible to telephone anyone from the confines of your car; now it seemed almost everyone had the convenience of a car phone. It was just her luck that this man should have one—— Perhaps that was just what it was… She could always call his bluff about using the phone, and that way she would know too whether he genuinely wanted to give her a lift to the village or if he was just using the idea of it as a way of getting her inside the car.
‘Then perhaps I could use it to call my aunt?’ she suggested lightly, not wanting to antagonise him–especially as her claim to being a karate expert had been pure invention!
She cursed the fact that the darkness prevented her being able to see him properly, but, even so, she could see he was a big man by the amount of space he took up inside the car, and his voice sounded strong and authoritative, as if he was used to issuing orders–and having them obeyed! She had probably already annoyed him intensely by not doing as she was told.
‘I’m a little later than I told my aunt I would be,’ Sophie explained ruefully. ‘And she’ll be worried about me.’ The truth of the matter was her aunt wouldn’t be worrying about her at all, because she would assume Sophie had come in and gone to bed hours ago. And she would be deeply upset to realise that wasn’t the case at all. But Aunt Millie’s displeasure seemed the lesser of two evils at the moment!
‘I would be worried about you too if you were my niece,’ the man told her disparagingly. ‘Here.’ The car phone was thrust up in front of her nose. ‘Just dial the number and wait for the connection,’ he instructed wearily as she hesitated.
‘Wait’ seemed to be the operative word, her assumption that her aunt had already gone to bed seeming to be the correct one as the telephone rang and rang unanswered at the other end of the line. ‘She’s probably fallen asleep waiting up for me,’ Sophie told the man hastily as she sensed his growing impatience.
‘I wouldn’t be in the least surprised,’ he murmured critically, condemnation in his voice.
Sophie didn’t know what gave him the right to be so critical about her; if he weren’t up and still out at this time of night then the two of them wouldn’t be having this conversation at all. And there were a limited number of reasons why one might be out this late in this area… Which was obviously why he seemed only too happy to make assumptions concerning her own presence here.
‘I’m sure she’ll hear the telephone ringing in a minute–Oh, Aunt Millie!’ she cried out thankfully as the receiver was at last picked up the other end and she heard the reassuringly familiar sound of her aunt’s voice on the other end of the line. Although her aunt’s reaction when she realised it was Sophie making the call wasn’t quite so reassuring–as she had feared it might not be!
‘What on earth——? Do you realise what time it is?’ her aunt demanded indignantly as she obviously came fully awake. ‘Where are you? What are you still doing out at this time of night; I thought you had gone to bed ages ago. Sophie, this is really too much——’
‘I realise how worried you are, Aunt Millie,’ Sophie cut in, her voice lightly cajoling, purely for the benefit of the man sitting inside the car so obviously listening. What she actually said was for his benefit too; at the moment her aunt was obviously more angry than worried about her. Not that she could exactly blame her; her aunt, whenever it was possible to do so, liked to retire early for the night, and had probably been asleep for hours before the telephone rang so intrusively. ‘I just wanted to let you know I’ll be home soon, and that——’
‘You got me out of bed at this hour just to tell me you’ll be home soon?’ Aunt Millie said incredulously. ‘Sophie——’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she continued the act. ‘Um–Ally was delayed in town, and so I’m getting a lift back with–with another friend.’ This conversation was very awkward, to say the least. She wanted to reassure her aunt without actually alarming her, while at the same time letting this man know that someone knew where she was and was expecting her home within the next half-hour, which was the most it should take to drive back from town.
‘What friend?’ her aunt said sharply. ‘Sophie, you’ve only been here a day,’ she continued exasperatedly. ‘And already you’re causing chaos!’
‘What friend…?’ Sophie repeated slowly, thinking fast, knowing she was just making the situation worse with her half-truths and evasions. ‘His name is——’
‘Maximilian Grant,’ the man supplied quietly from inside the car.
‘Ma–Brian Burnett!’ Sophie frantically replaced, staring inside the car with horrified fascination. Oh, my God, Maximilian Grant. Of all the people who could possibly have stopped, it had to be him! Thank God she hadn’t just blurted his name out to her aunt; that would really have put the cat among the pigeons. ‘Er–Brian Burnett,’ she repeated in a calmer voice, turning away from the car now. ‘You remember him,’ she spoke quickly, desperately trying to think of a way out of this situation–there wasn’t one! A hard knot of misery formed in the bottom of her stomach; she could never remember outstaying her welcome in a matter of hours before. ‘Ally’s brother,’ she added vaguely.
Maximilian Grant! She still couldn’t believe her luck. Anyone else and it wouldn’t have mattered; but him? Oh, lord!
‘Of course I remember him,’ her aunt answered impatiently. ‘He’s been——’
‘Look I’ll have to go, Aunt Millie,’ Sophie cut her off quickly. ‘I’ll be back soon, and we can talk then.’
‘I am going to bed, Sophie,’ her aunt told her in no uncertain terms. ‘We will talk in the morning.’
And Sophie knew her aunt well enough by now to know that when she said they would talk in the morning, what she actually meant was that she would talk and Sophie would listen. And learn. Or else. It was ridiculous that at twenty-two she should still be in awe of her aunt Millie and the undoubtably sharp edge of her tongue, but it was a lesson she had learnt the hard way during long summer holidays with her aunt’s family when she was a child. If anything, her aunt had become sharper over the years, not mellowed! And she didn’t have her cousin Arlette to act as a buffer between her aunt’s impatience with her impetuosity this time either, Arlette being away in Germany at the moment.
‘Er–I don’t have a key to get in,’ Sophie muttered reluctantly into the mouthpiece of the telephone, her mind racing all the time as she wondered exactly what she was going to do about the man sitting inside the car, impatience emanating from him now at the delay.
But her panic concerning him was of a different kind now, for she no longer feared his motives in stopping; this man certainly wasn’t about to attempt to rape or murder her. However, he did have a power over her life that——
‘Well, really!’ her aunt said incredulously. ‘You really are the limit, Sophie. I would have thought you would have matured the last few years, given all that’s happened to you, but I can see from your behaviour tonight that you’re just as irresponsible as you ever were! I should never——’
‘You’ll wait up for me,’ Sophie feigned gratitude for the non-existent offer, at the same time wondering why it was that these things did happen to her.
She had gone out tonight to meet Ally in all innocence, had looked forward to seeing her old childhood friend, and because of that her plans for the next week could now all be lost. And she had needed that week. Hell! It was all Brian Burnett’s fault. This would teach her to wonder if she still had the crush on him that she had at thirteen. Three years older than Ally, Arlette, and herself, he had seemed like a god all those years ago. He was a god that had matured to have feet of clay. He—— She frowned as she saw another car coming, in the opposite direction this time, headlights blazing in the darkness.
‘I’ll see you soon, Aunt Millie,’ she added quickly, ending the call before her aunt could protest at the suggestion.
She had no doubt her aunt was going to be furious when she did get back, but one awkward situation at a time; she had Maximilian Grant to deal with first! How to get herself out of this situation, she just didn’t know. Once he realised who she was…
‘Now get in the car,’ he instructed tersely as she handed him the portable phone, revving the engine of the car in preparation of leaving.
She hadn’t been able to see who he was in the darkness; she would have recognised him instantly if it had been daylight–his harsh good looks, blond hair shot through with silver, ice-cold blue eyes, photographed often in the newspapers. But now that she knew he was Maximilian Grant she felt even less inclined to get in the car with him! If she hadn’t been able to see him well enough to recognise him, maybe if she could evade spending any more time in his company he wouldn’t recognise her when he saw her again either. When. Because they would meet again. And in very different circumstances. If only——
The car that had fast been approaching from the opposite direction suddenly dazzled her with its headlights. Oh, God, so much for her being in the darkness and so unrecognisable; her hair now, she knew, would appear like a red flame in the bright lights. Completely distinctive. Unforgettable. The other car was stopping too now; not one ‘gallant knight’ wanting to help a ‘lady in distress’, but two! But she couldn’t see this second driver any better than she had Maximilian Grant, could just make out a bulky outline seated behind the wheel of the car.
‘Sophie, I’m sorry.’ But she recognised the male voice only too well this time. Brian! He had come back for her after all. ‘I behaved like a fool before.’ He had switched off the engine of his car, got out of the car, and was crossing the road towards her now. ‘I got all the way home before I realised how stupidly I had——’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she cut in hastily, moving forward to grasp hold of his arm and stop him before he could reach the side of Maximilian Grant’s car. ‘What matters is that you’re here now. Get back in your car and I’ll join you in a minute. I just have to thank this kind gentleman for stopping, and then I’ll be right with you.’ She had turned Brian in the direction of his car as she spoke, pushing him towards it now.
And he didn’t want to be pushed! ‘But——’
‘Wait in the car, Brian,’ she instructed tautly, anxious the two men shouldn’t meet. Then it would be all over for her.
‘But–but——’ Again he did a good impression of a stalled engine.
‘I said wait in the car, Brian.’ Her near-desperation was barely controlled this time.
‘All right, all right!’ He shrugged off her hands, as if he didn’t know what all the fuss was about anyway. ‘God, I only came back to apologise,’ he could be heard muttering as he returned to his car. ‘Women!’ he added disgustedly as he climbed in behind the wheel, slamming the door behind him.
He had better not drive off again now! Because if he did, the next time she saw him she would strangle him, Ally’s brother or not!
‘Your lover appears to be still somewhat irate,’ Maximilian Grant drawled mockingly from the interior of his car. ‘Are you sure you want to go with him?’
The arrogant——! ‘Brian isn’t my lover,’ she told him indignantly–and then wondered why she was bothering. She was just prolonging the conversation, and increasing the possibility of recognition when they met again; she should just have thanked him politely for stopping, and made a dignified exit.
He was looking up at her in the darkness now; she could almost feel that penetrating gaze on her. No wonder he was so successful in business, if the power in his eyes could be felt under these circumstances; it must be quite wilting for business associates to feel the full force of those icy blue eyes upon them.
‘No?’ he drawled sceptically in reply to her claim. ‘I gathered from the conversation between the two of you just now that your walking alone along this road at this time of the night is the result of a lovers’ tiff,’ he added harshly, having continued determinedly on when Sophie opened her mouth to protest once again at this description of Brian’s role in her life; she hadn’t even seen Brian for years until tonight–that had been partly why his behaviour earlier had so outraged her! ‘I would give serious thought,’ Maximilian Grant told her grimly, ‘as to whether or not you want to continue a relationship with a man who threw you out of his car in the middle of nowhere at half-past twelve at night!’
Sophie gasped indignantly. ‘He didn’t throw me out, I made him stop the car and let me out! And if I hadn’t been defending——’ She broke off with a self-consciously indrawn breath as she realised what she had been about to say.
‘Nevertheless, one presumes he gave you reason for such an action, and the result was totally irresponsible–on the part of both of you, it would seem,’ Maximilian Grant rasped critically.
She winced at his use of the word ‘irresponsible’. The last thing she wanted this man to think her was irresponsible.
‘You could have lost a lot more than your “honour” wandering around deserted roads this time of night,’ he warned impatiently, showing her immediately that he had drawn his own conclusions about what she had been about to claim she was defending earlier. And as it happened he was completely wrong; she would have had no trouble ‘defending her honour’ with Brian, and certainly wouldn’t have ended up walking back because of it! ‘I would suggest that in future, you choose your friends a little more carefully,’ he added harshly.
It sounded more like an order than a suggestion, actually, but as it appeared to be his parting comment, he putting the car into gear now and driving off with smooth efficiency, Sophie didn’t particularly care how it sounded. She was just glad he had finally left. She could breathe again now, felt as if she had been hyperventilating since the moment the man had revealed his identity as Maximilian Grant. ‘Of all the cars in all the world’; not quite the original quote, but it was apt. So very apt!
‘Sophie, could we get moving now?’ Brian had wound his car window down to prompt impatiently. ‘I know it’s the weekend tomorrow, but I still have to go to work, and it’s late——’
‘Well, lucky old you!’ she ground out furiously as she marched across the road to wrench open the passenger door–such a gentleman to get out and open the door for her, she didn’t think!—and got in beside him. ‘Thanks to you I–oh, never mind.’ She glared across the width of the car at him. ‘Just drive, will you?’ She hunched down in her seat. ‘I’m no more anxious to spend any more time in your company than you are in mine!’ She scowled unseeingly ahead of her.
‘I didn’t say—— Oh, all right,’ Brian sighed wearily as the fierceness of her glowering glare was turned on him. ‘But it seems to me you’re making an awful fuss about this whole business,’ he muttered to himself as he accelerated the car forward. ‘I made a mistake. I’ve apologised. I don’t know why we can’t just forget the whole incident,’ he added in a disgruntled voice.
That was the whole point; he had no idea that she would probably not be allowed to forget it! Aunt Millie, waiting up for her at home, wasn’t likely to let her forget it in a hurry. And to her mind, much more significantly, there was Maximilian Grant…
‘Ally is going to kill me,’ Brian sighed wearily as Sophie didn’t confirm or deny his previous suggestion.
Remembering the fiery temper of her friend from childhood, Sophie wouldn’t be in the least surprised! ‘It’s no more than you deserve,’ she told Brian now, although her tension had already started to diminish. ‘I should just let Ally have you,’ she added teasingly. ‘But I won’t!’ She gave a rueful smile now at the thought of it. ‘It would be a little like throwing you to the lions!’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t actually see any reason why Ally has to know about this at all.’ The fewer people who knew anything about tonight, the better; too many people knew about it already as far as she was concerned.
‘Thanks!’ Brian said with obvious relief for the reprieve–his gratitude having the effect of making Sophie feel somewhat guilty now, when she was just as anxious that the incident should be kept between the two of them. ‘My sister can be a real nag when she wants to be.’ He frowned at the thought.
Talking of nags …she had better start thinking of what she was going to say to Aunt Millie when she got back!
Sophie fell silent again just at the thought of it, her return of good humour fading too. By the time Aunt Millie had finished with her, she doubted she would have much to smile about!
And so it was no surprise at all, as they approached the house, to see it ablaze with lights. ‘Just drop me off here,’ Sophie told Brian as they turned in the driveway, the house still some distance away. ‘Ally has nothing on my aunt Millie when it comes to the “outraged dragon",’ she explained with a grimace at his questioning look. ‘And as you can see by the lights, she’s still up!’
Sophie could envisage her aunt right now, seated at the wooden table in the centre of the kitchen, the belt to her pink towelling bathrobe neatly tied at her ample waist, her rosy face bare of make-up, even the powder and lipstick she usually wore during the day, and there would possibly be rollers in her hair, depending on whether or not tonight was a hair-wash night; Sophie wasn’t sure about the latter, had left too early in the evening to know one way or the other. But she did know her aunt wouldn’t be reading or writing, or doing anything else for that matter, as she waited. She would just be waiting.
Brian didn’t need any further discouragement, stopping the car while they were still well away from the house, turning in his seat to look at her. ‘If you’d like me to come in with you, I will,’ he offered bravely.
Sophie laughed softly. ‘Now I know why I had a crush on you when I was younger! It’s a nice offer, Brian, and I do appreciate it.’ She squeezed his arm gratefully. ‘But I believe Aunt Millie is best faced alone.’ Mainly because, in this instance, Brian was more likely to drop her further into trouble than she already was if he should say the wrong thing at the wrong time!
As it was, Sophie was still trying to work out what she could say to her aunt–if she had a chance to say anything!
‘If you’re sure that’s what you’d prefer…’ Brian accepted with some relief. ‘I’ll call you in a few days, shall I, and–no?’ He winced as he saw she was already shaking her head at the suggestion.
‘We’re friends again, Brian; let’s just leave it at that,’ Sophie dismissed evenly. ‘And don’t try this on anyone else, hmm?’ she advised as she pushed the car door open in preparation of getting out onto the gravelled driveway. ‘You aren’t very good at it!’
‘Thanks!’ he returned drily. ‘A man’s ego certainly couldn’t become inflated with you around, could it!’
She chuckled softly before shutting the door and setting off down the driveway, grateful to Brian as she did so as he deliberately kept the car headlights brightly shining in that direction until she reached the door; it was a black, moonless night, and shadowy bushes edged the driveway in eerie silence.
She turned and waved once she reached the door, vaguely registering that Brian was turning the car around and leaving now even as she saw, from the light streaming from the kitchen window, that sleek car of bottle-green parked outside. Sophie’s nervousness returned anew at the sight of that car, and she entered the house on leaden feet.
As soon as she entered the kitchen she could see she was wrong on all four counts concerning her aunt; she wasn’t seated at the table but stood beside it putting a cup and saucer on a tray, she wasn’t dressed for bed but wore one of her usual blue dresses with the pristine white collar, and her powder and lipstick looked newly applied, and, although Sophie could see her aunt had washed her hair, it certainly wasn’t in rollers but neatly brushed into style.
Oh, well, here goes, Sophie groaned inwardly. ‘Aunt Millie?’
Her aunt was so startled, obviously not having heard Sophie’s entrance, that she almost dropped the sugar bowl she had been about to put on the tray with the cup and saucer. She glared across at Sophie impatiently at the same time she slammed the sugar bowl down. ‘I didn’t hear you get back,’ she accused unnecessarily, her attention almost immediately returning to the tray, adding a coffee-pot and a jug of cream before nodding her satisfaction that everything seemed to be in place.
‘Just now,’ Sophie nodded warily. ‘Brian brought me back.’ And this time she wasn’t lying! ‘Aunt Millie, I want to explain about——’
‘Not now, Sophie,’ her aunt dismissed irritably, picking up the tray. ‘Can’t you see I’m busy?’
Of course she could see her aunt was busy, but it was imperative she explain to her about——
Her aunt frowned. ‘If you want to do something useful, Sophie, then open the door for me so that I can——’
‘Mrs Craine, I’ve decided I will have that sandwich you offered, after all.’ The door to the main part of the house had been thrust open from the other side before Sophie could reach it, a man now standing in the doorway.
A man with harshly hewn good looks, blond hair shot through with silver, and ice-cold blue eyes…
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_7635cd6e-201f-5335-9a82-9cf04dea2bce)
MAXIMILIAN GRANT.
The owner of this house and the extensive grounds that surrounded it. Her aunt’s employer. And he had arrived unexpectedly in the middle of the night.
Sophie had recognised his voice immediately he spoke as he opened the door, of course, had frozen in her position slightly behind that door–which was probably the reason he didn’t seem to have seen her yet!
Would he recognise her when he did see her?
Recognise her as what, she wondered with a grimace? The young woman he had come across alone in the dark at the side of the road, apparently ‘asking to be raped or worse’?
What else was it he had called her? ‘irresponsible’, and–oh, God, he’d said she should choose her friends more wisely in future. And she was supposed to be here as the prospective companion, for the following week, to his young daughter! After the unforgettable list of offences he had already found her guilty of, she didn’t think that was very likely to happen now.
She gave a weary sigh at the thought of having to pack up her things and leave again so soon after she had got here; she had only arrived that very afternoon. But she now gave up all hope that Maximilian Grant wouldn’t realise she had been that woman walking along the road in the dark; if she had recognised his voice instantly, then it was logical to assume he would recognise hers too, especially as the incident was still so new. And memorable. At least, she presumed he didn’t stop along dark country roads to offer lifts to ‘damsels in distress’ every night of the week! Or even if he did–although he certainly hadn’t given the impression of being a knight in shining armour!—they wouldn’t all have turned out to be the woman seeking the position as companion to his daughter.
Sophie couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face as a perfectly ludicrous idea occurred to her. It must be the near-hysteria she felt at this whole situation that was causing it, but she had suddenly had an illusion of Mr Rochester with a car phone! OK, so she was taking poetic licence with the story, but there was no denying that they had met in the dark of night, nor that Maximilian Grant had been travelling, albeit in a car rather than on horseback, to his country home, nor that she was here as the companion he hadn’t yet met to his young charge, this time a daughter rather than a ward.
OK, she was taking more than poetic licence with this last bit; Maximilian Grant’s daughter Jennifer wasn’t home from school for the week’s half-term holiday until tomorrow, and Sophie had yet to be officially given the job of keeping her occupied for the week. Another twist, a rather significant one in this case, was that Sophie was the one who had actually realised Maximilian Grant’s identity, rather than the other way around, as it had been with Rochester and Jane. Perhaps not Mr Rochester with a car phone after all…
She had been trying to cheer herself up with this nonsense, and now she realised she just felt more deflated than ever. Not depressed. She had made a vow to herself long ago that she wouldn’t allow that emotion to colour her life. As she didn’t boredom either. There was always something to see, too much to do, to give in to that malaise. But, even so, she realised that this time she was coming very close to it!
‘Roast chicken?’
It took Sophie several seconds to realise her aunt was answering her employer’s request for a sandwich. Her aunt had been expecting Maximilian Grant in the morning, had been cooking his favourite foods all day in preparation for the weekend, her employer having spent the weekdays in his London apartment, as he usually did. Much to Aunt Millie’s chagrin; there was nothing she liked better than having someone to look after and feed. She had complained to Sophie only that afternoon, as she bustled about cooking pies and cakes, that she was sure Maximilian Grant didn’t look after himself properly in London anyway, that she didn’t understand why he didn’t spend more time down here. It wasn’t the same for her now as it had been with the last owners of Henley Hall, the Grays and their three children permanently in residence. But the Grays had sold up to Maximilian Grant over a year ago, and, although Aunt Millie had been asked to stay on as cook-housekeeper, she didn’t enjoy it now as much as she had when the Grays and their three young children had lived here. Maybe now that Maximilian Grant and his daughter were both back…
‘That will be fine,’ he accepted tersely now. ‘I’ll take the coffee tray back with——’ He broke off suddenly, turning sharply, pinning Sophie with those ice-blue eyes, his mouth thinning. ‘I didn’t realise you had company.’ He turned back to her aunt almost accusingly.
Sophie’s tentative grin, on at last being spotted, turned into a sickly grimace at the open hostility in his voice now. Gone was the abruptly polite employer who had been talking to her aunt, and in his place was–Sophie wasn’t sure…
He must have known the person he was thinking of employing as Jennifer’s companion was coming here, because he had asked that she be here for an interview on Saturday morning before his daughter came home from boarding-school at lunchtime, and he also knew she was his housekeeper’s niece, so that couldn’t be the problem either. And yet he was reacting to her presence here now as if she were some sort of intruder. It didn’t make sense. She hadn’t even spoken yet, so it couldn’t be that!
‘I’m Sophie Gordon,’ she decided to take the initiative when her aunt seemed as surprised by his attitude towards her as she was, stepping forward to hold her hand out in polite greeting. ‘Aunt Mil–er–Mrs Craine’s niece,’ she hastily amended at her aunt’s frown, the beginnings of a blush darkening her cheeks as she saw Maximilian Grant’s eyes narrow even more, in puzzlement this time.
Her voice! He did recognise her voice, was looking her up and down critically now.
And Sophie knew exactly what he would see: a shock of short red curls that refused to be tamed, huge hazel-coloured eyes that could be either green or brown, depending on her mood–right now they were definitely green!—a small snub nose, generously curving mouth, a determinedly pointed chin, her slight, almost boyish body clothed in the unaccustomed skirt and blouse, the satiny sheen to the latter being what had made it easy earlier for him to spot her in the headlights of his car. Well, at least she had done something sensible tonight, had worn something–even if it had been unintentionally at the time!—that could be clearly seen. Although she doubted ‘sensible’ was the word going through Maximilian Grant’s mind at the moment concerning her; she was already well aware of what he thought of her! But Aunt Millie wasn’t, and——
‘Ah, yes,’ Maximilian Grant answered her slowly, the hostility gone now–to be replaced with dry mockery. ‘You’re here about the job,’ he nodded tauntingly.
And she could kiss goodbye to that job, Sophie read from the derisive glint in his eyes, her arm falling back to her side as he made no effort to shake her hand. Which meant that she could also say goodbye to the week’s wages too. And she had needed that money. She doubted, in the circumstances, that he would feel like reimbursing her return train fare either, which made all of this a double blow. Well, she might just have to ask him for the latter; she couldn’t afford, literally, to be proud.
‘That’s right,’ she confirmed brightly. ‘I came down by train this afternoon so that I wouldn’t be late for our interview in the morning.’
Dark blond brows rose over mocking eyes. ‘Very commendable, I’m sure,’ he drawled softly. ‘Although it could be called taking punctuality to the extreme!’
She felt the heat in her cheeks at his undoubted sarcasm at her expense. ‘I thought it would be nice to spend some time with my aunt before–if my time here were to be taken up with Jennifer for the next week,’ she defended with a shrug–and then wished she hadn’t bothered as the mockery deepened in his expression, wry amusement quirking a mouth that looked as if it could border on cruelty if crossed. Border? Go well over the edge!
‘Really?’ Maximilian Grant murmured now, his stance challenging, his legs slightly apart, wearing dark fitted trousers that looked as if they might be part of a well-cut business suit, his snowy-white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, although he had probably worn a tie with it earlier; he didn’t look the type to dress casually very often, and today had been a working day. The tie would have been silk too, Sophie guessed ruefully; Maximilian Grant’s business empire had made him a millionaire many times over. ‘And did the two of you have a pleasant evening together talking over family and old times?’ he enquired pleasantly now.
Too pleasantly! He knew, damn him–she was sure now that he did!—that she hadn’t spent the evening with her aunt at all, believed she had spent them in the arms of her lover, Brian Burnett!
But, Sophie puzzled with a frown, as he did know that, and they both knew that he did, why didn’t he just tell her aunt? Whatever his reason, she was sure it had nothing to do with helping her avoid the severe verbal reprimand she would get from her aunt if she were to be told Sophie had already made the acquaintance of her employer, and under circumstances Aunt Millie certainly wouldn’t approve of!
"We spent the afternoon catching up on family news,” her aunt was the one to answer him in perfect innocence of the taunt, obviously pleased at how well Sophie and her employer appeared to be getting on together. She had actually recommended Sophie for this job, and would feel it reflected badly on her if Sophie should now prove unsuitable.
Unsuitable, Sophie realised with an inward groan, had to be the very least of what Maximilian Grant thought of her. Although the most she could hope for was that he wouldn’t be too frank with her aunt when he told her that!
‘Sophie spent the evening with a friend she made down here during holidays with us as a child,’ her aunt added affectionately.
‘Indeed?’ Eyes so pale a blue that they looked almost grey were narrowed on Sophie now even as he answered her aunt’s statement. ‘Perhaps you would bring the tray through to my study and we can talk now.’ All humour had gone from his expression now, derisive as it had been, and he was grimly authoritative, the suggestion an order rather than a request. ‘Another cup, if you please, Mrs Craine.’
One-thirty in the morning hardly seemed like the ideal time to be conducting an interview, Sophie thought even as she was vaguely aware of her aunt putting another cup on the tray. But despite the realisation that she now felt rather tired, from travelling down here today, an evening out that had hardly been uneventful, and the very lateness of the hour, Sophie knew she was in no position to argue, so she picked up the tray dutifully in preparation for following him.
He arched dark blond brows. ‘Are you hungry? Or is that a silly question to ask a student? I believe you’re reputed to be permanently in that state,’ he said ruefully.
Sophie turned frowningly to her aunt Millie. She was taking a university course, yes, but she could hardly be classed as a student. Aunt Millie saw her puzzled look, giving a barely perceptible shake of her head in reply, and to Sophie’s further discomfort she realised her aunt hadn’t told Maximilian Grant the whole truth about her. Not that she could exactly blame her aunt, but it did put Sophie in a doubly awkward position where this man was concerned.
‘I ate earlier, thank you,’ she replied distractedly, frantically wondering exactly what her aunt Millie had told her employer about her.
‘A chicken sandwich for one, then, Mrs Craine,’ he instructed tersely before striding purposefully out of the room.
Sophie shot a helpless look across the room at her aunt before hurrying after him, the coffee-pot rattling precariously as she did so, forcing her to slow her pace or run the risk of throwing hot coffee all over this beautifully carpeted hallway.
During the days of Sophie’s childhood holidays spent here, this house had been comfortably well-worn, the Grays having inherited the house rather than bought it, and with the expense of running such a large house, and three boisterous children to provide for, the house, while not exactly running into disrepair, had become worn and faded, a financial burden the young couple had found crippling, to the point where they had finally been able to manage no longer.
The house looked far from worn and faded now, an interior designer having been called in as soon as Henley Hall became Maximilian Grant’s. Workmen of all types had quickly followed, and her aunt had complained that for the next two months she had done nothing but provide tea and coffee for the workmen and clear up the mess they had made, all to the sound of their heaving and banging and the smell of newly applied paint. The result, Sophie had felt when she arrived here earlier today, had to have been worth it.
The whole of the downstairs floor had been carpeted in the same rich red and gold, the furniture all antique, deep red velvet curtains at the huge windows, glittering candelabra hanging from the high ceilings. Upstairs there had been a bit more personality added to the choice, Jennifer’s room a froth of cream lace and silk, the master bedroom more austere in dark and light blue, all of the guest bedrooms–and there were six of them–decorated in two-tonal colours that perfectly complemented each other. Sophie was temporarily allotted a bedroom near her aunt downstairs, until it was decided whether or not she would be staying, neither of them liking to make the assumption that she would be. But, her aunt had briskly informed her, if she was taken on, she would be moved up to one of the guest bedrooms, suitably close to Jennifer.
Sophie didn’t think there was much likelihood of that happening now!
She hadn’t seen in Maximilian Grant’s study earlier when her aunt had taken her round to show her the changes that had been made since her last visit just before the Grays left last year, but its austere brown and cream decor, and heavy oak furniture, came as no surprise to her; it was exactly what she would have expected Maximilian Grant to have surrounded himself with as he worked.
Although …remembering how he hadn’t told her aunt of the way he had met her on the road earlier, perhaps he wasn’t as predictable as she thought he was!
With the minimum of fuss he made a space now on the brown leather-topped desk for the coffee-tray, and Sophie put it down gratefully, having been terrified that she would further disgrace herself by dropping it everywhere.
She wondered, as she straightened, if she should just say her piece and leave gracefully. But while there was still a chance of her having the job, even the slimmest of one—— Yet was there, really, or was this man just trying to let her down gently? If he was, it would probably be the first time he had ever been this considerate!
Maximilian Grant’s success in business was legendary. He seemed to have interests in almost everything, from film companies, recording studios, airlines and newspapers, to race horses, the latter seeming to win for him with monotonous regularity. If Sophie were a gambler, which she most certainly wasn’t, his were the horses she would bet on. But she didn’t and his horses just went on winning without her money on them.
His personal life seemed to be no less successful. He’d escorted dozens of beautiful women since the death of his wife three years ago. Although none of them seemed, as yet, to have found a lasting place in the spot most people seemed to call a heart. In fact, one rather disgruntled actress, much in demand for her talent and beauty, who had ceased to hold his attention after only a matter of weeks, had claimed he didn’t have a heart at all, only a stone where it should have been! The fact that simultaneously she had failed to get the leading role in the latest film he was involved in producing might have had something to do with the vitriolic outburst, but even so it was no secret that Maximilian Grant didn’t have any inclination towards finding a second wife for himself. And, to Sophie’s mind, a man didn’t gain the coldly calculating reputation this man had in his business and personal life without there being some truth in it.
‘Would you like to “be Mother"?’
After her so recent thoughts about the intimate side of his life, this mockingly drawled request came as something of a shock! But then Sophie saw that his attention was fixed pointedly on the tray of coffee, as he sat behind his desk, and she realised he only wanted her to pour the steaming brew!
‘Of course,’ she returned smoothly, although once again her cheeks felt hot, and from the way his taunting gaze followed her slightly flustered movements with the coffee-pot she almost felt as if he could read her mind. Well, if that was the case, she hoped he could read now that she thought he wasn’t being fair to mock her in this way, not when he already knew he had her at such a disadvantage.
‘Cream and sugar?’ she enquired coolly, on her dignity now.
His mouth seemed to twitch at her attempt to put things back on a formal footing between them, and he shook his head in curt refusal of the offer. ‘I’ll take it just as it comes from the pot this time of night. I need the caffeine,’ he added ruefully.
He didn’t look as if he ‘needed’ anything; he was as alert and steely-eyed as if he had recently awoken from a long refreshing sleep. Whereas she felt exhausted, certainly far from her sparkling best. Which was a mistake on her part; she had a feeling it never paid to be less than at one’s best when up against this man. And at the moment, because he deliberately made himself such an enigma, she did feel they were antagonists.
‘Your young man did bring you all the way home this time, then?’
Sophie drew her breath in sharply at the sharp edge to the question, sure in that moment that he had deliberately attempted to put her at her ease before by seeming to fall in with her wish to be the polite strangers they would have been if it hadn’t been for that incident beside the road earlier. Now he was letting her know, with one sharp parry, that he had no intention of forgetting the incident, no matter what impression he might have given to the contrary in front of her aunt.
Sophie handed him his cup of coffee with a hand that shook slightly. Maybe it was as well she wasn’t going to work for him after all. She liked to relax, enjoy herself where she worked, and this man’s presence here would make that impossible for her.
‘As you can see,’ she nodded abruptly. ‘I–thank you for not telling my aunt about that earlier,’ she added stiffly, having dropped down into the chair opposite his across the desk.
He made no attempt to drink the coffee she had given him, putting the cup down on the desktop, his eyes narrowed to steely slits now as his gaze levelled on Sophie. ‘I didn’t do that to save you any embarrassment,’ he told her harshly, ‘but because I believed it might have upset your aunt to know about the ridiculous situation you had got yourself into. She seems very fond of you…’
Although he couldn’t for the life of him understand why, when she was so obviously unworthy of the affection, his tone seemed to imply!
But she had been proved correct in her earlier belief that he hadn’t been interested in protecting her by not telling her aunt they had already met, and under what circumstances.
‘Look on the bright side,’ Sophie returned. ‘If I hadn’t kept Aunt Millie up waiting to let me in because I didn’t have a key, she wouldn’t have been up and about to make your coffee and sandwich!’
His mouth thinned, his eyes ice-cold. ‘I’m more than capable of getting my own coffee and sandwich,’ he rasped harshly.
Sophie would hazard a guess at his being more than capable of doing most things for himself! She really shouldn’t have let herself be goaded into giving that insolent reply. And she wouldn’t have done if he weren’t so–so damned superior, looking down that arrogant nose of his at her as if she were some unusual type of specimen that he wanted to push and poke around until he discovered what made her function the way that she did–and then dispose of her! Or maybe she was just being over-sensitive; after all, he did have a certain right to be judgemental about her behaviour…
‘Or you could have made it for me,’ he continued challengingly before she could make a reply. ‘When you finally got in!’
She winced at the disapproving anger in his voice. He sounded like a stern father reprimanding a wayward child, although anyone less like her own wonderful, indulgent father she couldn’t imagine–and she doubted Maximilian Grant would welcome the idea of her as his child any more favourably! Maybe prospective employer reprimanding a less than suitable candidate for employment was more like it, after all. And the longer they talked, the more she realised how true that probably was; she didn’t ‘suit’ Maximilian Grant at all!
She moistened her lips nervously. ‘You——’
‘Sorry I took so long with your sandwich, Mr Grant.’ Her aunt chose that moment to bustle into the room after the briefest of knocks to alert them to her presence, smiling at the two of them brightly as she came in, seeming unaware of the tension that fairly crackled in the room between her employer and her niece. At least, to Sophie it did! ‘I made you some fresh mayonnaise to go with it,’ Aunt Millie beamed with satisfaction.
‘You shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble, Mrs Craine.’ Maximilian Grant relaxed enough to smile up at Sophie’s aunt, although Sophie could see the angry glitter directed at her still in his ice-blue eyes. She had seen a photograph of an iceberg once that had the palest of blue coloration to it; this man’s eyes reminded her of that iceberg. ‘You really must go to bed now, Mrs Craine.’ His smile took some of the order out of the sharpness of his words as he spoke to her aunt again, but it was no less an instruction he expected her to obey, for all that.
Even so, Sophie knew it was an order her aunt would have to disobey; there was no way Aunt Millie would just meekly go off to bed now, without learning exactly how Sophie had got on in her interview with Maximilian Grant. That was something she wasn’t alone in!
‘Sophie and I can clear away here when we’re finished,’ Maximilian Grant added–as if he was well aware of his housekeeper’s reluctance.
‘Very well,’ Aunt Millie replied stiffly, making her exit, dignified displeasure down each rigid inch of her spine.
Sophie winced, knowing that look only too well. Not that it appeared to be bothering Maximilian Grant as he looked across the desk at Sophie with raised brows. And why should it bother him? The most Aunt Millie could do to him was serve him up an inedible meal, and as her aunt was very proud of her cooking, that wasn’t very likely! Sophie wished she could be let off as lightly…
‘You were saying…?’ Maximilian Grant prompted drily, as if he knew exactly what thoughts were going through her mind.
What had she been saying? Oh, yes… ‘I just wanted to explain about what happened earlier this evening–but I realise now there isn’t a lot of point to that, is there?’ She sighed wearily at the knowledge that it was probably far too late to redeem herself in his eyes.
Would it do any good, she wondered, if she were to tell this man that it hadn’t been the defending of her honour that had resulted in her ordering Brian to stop the car and let her out, but of his, Maximilian Grant’s?
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_3afb7fe2-675a-5c3d-844b-9025dc9c6f0e)
WELL, not his honour, exactly, but something he valued far more highly: his privacy!
She had been pleased to see Brian earlier when he had joined her and Ally for a drink, had thought him still attractive to her now adult eyes, had been pleased to accept the lift back to Henley Hall he’d offered her once he had realised she was going to leave to catch the last bus back, had even been considering accepting his invitation if he should ask to see her again, for an evening out alone this time. What she had unfortunately forgotten was that Brian now worked for the biggest local newspaper in the area. And what she had learnt during that drive back was that Brian had ambitions to move on from that provincial newspaper to the brighter lights of Fleet Street–or wherever the big national newspapers were located nowadays–and he had the idea of using an exposé of Maximilian Grant’s private life to do it, with Sophie as his informant.
At this moment in time, apart from the fact that Maximilian Grant had a sixteen-year-old daughter with a week’s half-term holiday to be filled, she knew little or nothing of the man’s private life. But, even if she had, she certainly wouldn’t have told Brian so that he could write some dreadful story for one of the gory tabloids. She had been outraged that Brian could even have imagined she might!
‘There has been a change of plan,’ Maximilian Grant gave an abrupt inclination of his head now, the light overhead giving his hair the appearance of being silver rather than blond, the angles of his face taking on harsh shadows.
Sophie pulled a face. ‘I thought there might have been,’ she grimaced. ‘Could you just do me a favour and go easy on me when you tell Aunt Millie why you couldn’t employ me? She may be your housekeeper, but she’s my mother’s sister too, and——’
‘I don’t think you understand.’ He stood up, moving to sit on the side of the desk. ‘The change I spoke of has nothing to do with this evening——’
‘No?’ She looked at him with derisive disbelief; who was he trying to kid? More to the point, why was he bothering?
‘No,’ he rasped impatiently. ‘The fact is, Jennifer isn’t coming home for the holidays after all, and——’
‘I realise you’re just saying that to try and save my feelings,’ Sophie shook her head ruefully. ‘But I——’
‘Miss Gordon, what possible reason could I have for wanting to save your feelings?’ Maximilian Grant looked down at her, blue eyes mocking.
Indeed. After all, she meant nothing to him, and neither did her feelings. And he hardly gave the impression of being a man who pulled his punches when dealing with other people, either verbally or physically.
She could feel the heat enter her cheeks with a slow burn as he continued to look at her with that pitying humour that made her feel about the same age as his daughter!
‘Especially if I have to lie to achieve it,’ he continued derisively. ‘I deal in facts, Miss Gordon——’
‘Sophie,’ she put in softly. ‘I would rather you called me Sophie.’
He gave an acknowledging inclination of his head of the request. ‘Well, the facts are–Sophie,’ he amended pointedly, ‘that Jennifer is to go to stay with her aunt for the week instead of coming home. I’m sorry you’ve been put to the trouble of coming down here–although, as you said earlier,’ his mouth twisted, ‘it gave you the opportunity to see your aunt again. And, of course–Brian … wasn’t it?’ he drawled tauntingly.
‘Yes, his name was Brian,’ she confirmed in a mutter. ‘But we both know how much I could have done without that meeting!’
‘Sorry?’ Maximilian Grant prompted mockingly as her voice was deliberately pitched too low to be audible to his or anyone else’s ears.
‘I must say——’ She forced a lightness to her voice that she was far from feeling. Given time–she wasn’t sure how much time!—she would probably become resigned to the fact that she didn’t have a job for the week, after all, but at the moment she just felt completely hollow, not knowing what she was going to do next. But she would bounce back, no doubt about it; she always had in the past. ‘I’ve never actually been sacked before I even started a job before!’ It was a first she could have done without now too! Oh, well…
Maximilian Grant’s mouth twisted. ‘Employers usually wait a little longer than that before dispensing with your services, hmm?’ he drawled drily. ‘It was your implication, not mine,’ he defended at her disgruntled expression.
Given time, she might even have found this man’s dry sense of humour amusing–although she doubted it!
‘Besides,’ he taunted, ‘your aunt gave me the impression you haven’t quite found your–vocation in life yet… Something about your having tried office work, been a telephonist, done shop work——’
‘Yes, OK,’ Sophie hastily cut in on what she knew was a long list, although she was sure her aunt would have omitted to mention the kissograms, being a motorbike courier in London, and half a dozen other jobs Aunt Millie wouldn’t have considered as suitable references for the companion of this man’s daughter. She buried her nose in her coffee-cup so that Maximilian Grant shouldn’t see the possibility of them in her candid hazel-coloured eyes–because since meeting him she was sure this man was astute enough to realise exactly the type of things her aunt had missed out of her résumé!
But he was completely wrong about what she wanted to do with her life. She knew exactly what she wanted to do as a career; it was just taking her longer than most to be in a position to do it. But she would get there in the end, even if she had to do another two dozen zany jobs to achieve it.
‘Your expenses for coming down here will, of course, be reimbursed to you.’ He stood up now in what was obviously an end to the conversation, moving to sit behind the desk again before biting into the sandwich her aunt had placed there for him. ‘Mmm, they’re good,’ he said appreciatively after that first bite. ‘Try one,’ he invited before continuing to eat.
Food would probably choke her at the moment, her disappointment over the lack of a job was so acute. ‘No, thanks.’ She stood up. ‘I–I think I’ll go to bed now. You don’t mind if I wait until morning to leave, do you?’ She frowned as that thought occurred to her.
Irritation turned his eyes icy-looking again. ‘Don’t be so damned silly,’ he rasped angrily. ‘If your aunt wants you to stay on with her for a few days, I’m not going to object.’
Oh, God … Aunt Millie still had to be faced yet! And no matter what Sophie said to the contrary, her aunt was sure to assume it must have been something Sophie had said or done that had influenced Maximilian Grant’s decision not to employ her after all, and that her unsuitability reflected on her because she had been the one to suggest Sophie in the first place! Her aunt wasn’t completely responsible for suggesting Sophie anyway; Sophie’s own mother had put the idea to her sister when she had casually mentioned the fact that the family would be here for Jennifer’s half-term. And actually, Sophie wasn’t totally convinced, despite the fact that this man said otherwise, that her accidental meeting with Maximilian Grant beside the road earlier this evening hadn’t influenced his decision concerning her…
‘I think it’s best if I leave tomorrow,’ she assured him; there was no point in suffering Aunt Millie’s reproachful looks for longer than was necessary.
‘As you wish,’ he shrugged dismissively, studying some papers that lay on his desktop.
Sophie wondered if he had any idea of the financial blow he had dealt her–even with the reimbursement of her expenses. Probably not. The amount of money she would have earned during the week would have been a mere drop in a very big ocean to this man, but to her… Forget it, Sophie, she instructed herself firmly. Move on. Don’t look back. Never look back. It was the only way.
Maximilian Grant didn’t even seem to notice her leave the room, so engrossed was he in reading those papers and eating his sandwich at the same time. In fact, he had probably already dismissed Sophie Gordon from his mind.
But her aunt Millie hadn’t; she was waiting up for her in the kitchen, as Sophie had known she would be!
But to her everlasting relief, when Sophie told her aunt that Jennifer was to go to her aunt’s rather than coming home as originally planned, Aunt Millie was so annoyed at the inconsideration shown to her that there was no thought of reproach.
‘Well, really!’ She stood up to clear the coffee things away. ‘But then, I suppose the aunt had a lot to do with that,’ she sniffed disapprovingly. ‘A spoilt little madam, if ever I saw one. It won’t do young Jennifer any good to spend time with that Celia.’ She shook her head with foreboding.
Sophie wasn’t sure whether it was Jennifer or the aunt who was the spoilt little madam; and she was too relieved at being let off so lightly to want to pursue the subject, excusing herself to go to bed, explaining that she had to travel back to town tomorrow.
‘Of course you have.’ Her aunt looked guilty now at having delayed her even further. ‘And I really am sorry you went to all this trouble just to be disappointed.’
She shrugged. ‘Mr Grant said he would pay my expenses——’
‘That’s the least he could do in the circumstances.’ Her aunt still looked disgusted at the way Sophie had been treated.
‘Yes,’ Sophie grimaced. ‘Well. Bed, I think,’ she said again firmly.
Aunt Millie nodded, her expression indulgent. ‘You have a lie-in in the morning, if you want to. There’s no hurry for you to leave,’ she added with indignation at the cavalier treatment Sophie had received.
Aunt Millie being so gently kind–especially when Sophie wasn’t one hundred per cent certain she deserved it!—was almost as nerve-racking as one of her reprimands could be, Sophie decided, beating a hasty retreat.
But once she reached her bedroom she found she was no longer tired enough to go to bed, her mind racing with alternative plans she could make for the next week. Genteel poverty sounded rather elegant, almost noble, but it didn’t pay the bills, or put food in her stomach. Oh, she would find another job, was sure of it, had never failed yet. But until she did…
Maybe if she read for a while she would start to feel sleepy again; the amount of times she had fallen asleep over one of her books in the past, she wouldn’t be in the least surprised if it worked now! But the books she had brought with her weren’t for light reading, and the more she tried not to think about it, the more the extensive library she had spotted earlier today in the main house seemed to lure her. In fact, one of the first things she had intended doing once she was taken on as Jennifer’s companion had been to ask Maximilian Grant if she could have a good look round in there; if–holy of holies!—she might actually be allowed to read some of the leather-bound books if she was very careful with them. Her fingers itched just to touch them.
Maybe Maximilian Grant wouldn’t mind if she were to just take a little look in there now…? After all, she wouldn’t get another opportunity.
The house, when she ventured out of her bedroom, was in darkness, both her aunt and Maximilian Grant seeming to have gone to bed now. The elegant beauty of the high-ceilinged hallway took on frightening proportions in the shadows of the night, making Sophie wonder if she was really that desperate to have a look in the library after all!
But once she had opened the library door, and literally just smelt all those books, she knew she had to go in and take a look. One of the switches beside the door activated the tall lamp that stood beside the green leather armchair that was placed to one side of the fireplace, the latter filled with a vase of dried flowers this time of year. The central heating was more than adequate for a cool May night.
All the classics were there, all beautifully bound, and, as she had known it would, it gave her pleasure just to touch them.
She didn’t believe it, almost the first book she pulled out; Jane Eyre! After the thoughts she had had earlier this evening, she knew this was the book she would have to read to get to sleep tonight. Her fingers closed lovingly about the green leather as she pulled the book down from the shelf.
But the book fell to the carpeted floor with a thud as she was grabbed from behind, crying out as her arm was twisted up behind her back and she was spun round in movements so deftly executed that she barely had time to breathe after that first shocked shriek.
And when she found herself pressed up against the hard steel of Maximilian Grant’s chest, with wide, frightened eyes staring up into his furiously angry ones, she wasn’t sure she was ever going to be able to breathe again!
‘You!’ he accused her disgustedly, although he made no effort to release her.
When Sophie was becoming more and more desperate by the second that he should do so; she wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to be able to remain even standing without breathing!
Close to him like this–very close to him, their bodies moulded together from shoulder to thighs!—she was made aware of every pore of his skin, every harsh line and feature–and at the moment he looked very harsh indeed!—and of the coldness of his eyes, and it was enough to freeze the very blood in her veins. There was certainly no amusement in those eyes now, not even at her expense. In fact, he looked positively hostile!
At the same time as Sophie registered all of this, she also knew that she had never been so aware of a man in her life before. Bone-meltingly, pulse-racingly, cheek-burningly aware of Maximilian Grant with every part of her, her senses singing, from the top of her head to the tips of her tingling toes.
And if she didn’t start to breathe again soon she was going to faint dead away at his feet!
Maximilian solved the problem for her by thrusting her away from him, his eyes narrowed to steely slits now as he still held her in his gaze at least. Sophie rubbed at the painful part of her wrist where he had held her so tightly, at the same time taking huge gulps of air into her starved lungs, still too shocked to actually say anything after being taken so much by surprise by the fierceness of his attack.
It must be almost half an hour now since she had left his study, and, while she at least had taken off the uncomfortably high-heeled shoes since going to her bedroom, Maximilian looked exactly as he had when she had left him, still fully clothed and not——
‘What are you doing in here?’ he demanded harshly, his body tautly challenging.
He looked almost threatening, seeming to bar her way to the door that still stood slightly open, reminding Sophie that she had been the one to leave it that way initially, which was why she hadn’t heard Maximilian’s entrance a few minutes ago.
She eyed him warily. ‘Looking for a book to read…?’ She gave a hopeful shrug, wondering why she should have such a strong feeling that he wouldn’t believe her; this was the library, after all. What did he think she was doing in here?
The icy-blue gaze didn’t waver. ‘At this time of the morning?’
He didn’t believe her! ‘I couldn’t sleep after our talk,’ she shrugged. ‘I mean–I knew I wouldn’t be able to, even if I went to bed,’ she added hastily as he looked pointedly at the blouse and skirt she still wore, making it obvious that she hadn’t even gone to bed to try to sleep yet. ‘Too much on my mind,’ she grimaced.
He folded his arms in front of his chest. ‘A guilty conscience can make you feel like that.’
‘Guilty——? Now look here,’ she spluttered indignantly. ‘I don’t have anything to feel guilty about.’ She glared at him at the implication that she had. Good God, if he was still going on about her wandering down the darkened road earlier, that had been his fault. And she was going to tell him so too if he didn’t stop throwing it up in her face!
Dark blond brows rose over coolly assessing blue eyes. ‘Implying that I do?’ The query was made silkily soft.
Her gaze dropped from his. ‘Well, I certainly have nothing to feel guilty about!’ she insisted stubbornly. God, she hadn’t been intending to steal a book from his precious library, if that were what he was worried about; could she do nothing right where this man was concerned? ‘I realise that perhaps I should have asked before borrowing a book.’ Her gaze returned the challenge in his now. ‘But given the lateness of the hour, and the fact that I would have returned the book to its shelf in the morning before I left, without anyone being any the wiser——’ she watched as he bent down to retrieve the book from the carpeted floor at their feet ’—I didn’t think that would be necessary. Obviously I was wrong,’ she added tautly.
He turned the book over in his hands that were long and slender, but nevertheless gave the impression of a steely strength. Sophie knew just how strong they could be, could still feel the imprint of those artistically shaped fingers on her wrist. She was trying hard not to remember how being hauled unceremoniously up against him had affected her. Luckily, his insulting behaviour since was making that very easy to do!
‘Jane Eyre.’ His mouth twisted mockingly as he read the title printed in gold-leaf on the front and spine of the book. ‘Let me guess,’ he derided harshly. ‘The arrogant but wealthy Rochester is a hero of yours?’
Sophie could cheerfully have slapped him at that moment for the cynical insult in his voice. In fact, she had to clasp her hands behind her back to stop herself from doing just that; she felt at that moment that she preferred Maximilian Grant cynically suspicious rather than derisively mocking! ‘Luckily,’ she snapped, ‘Rochester has more than his wealth to endear him to Jane; he is also blessed with a sense of humour!’
Maximilian’s mouth twisted, the implication not lost on him. ‘And you think I’m not?’
Sophie’s head tilted back challengingly, red curls gleaming like flame. ‘From our acquaintance so far, I wouldn’t know!’
He laughed at her sharp retort, actually laughed, while putting the book down on the coffee-table that stood beside the armchair. ‘Perhaps it’s a pity you won’t be staying on here after all, Sophie Gordon,’ he murmured softly, still smiling. ‘It seems I’m in need of reminding how to laugh at situations.’
Sophie was so mesmerised by the transformation the laughter had effected in the harshness of his features–the eyes a deep blue with humour, laughter-lines appearing beside his nose and mouth, his teeth very white and even against his tanned skin–that initially she didn’t take in what he had said. And then, when she did, she could only reflect how sad it must be to have to be reminded how to laugh.
What sort of life did this man lead, that he should need reminding? She knew he was a widower, her aunt had told her that, but from what she could gather his wife had died three years ago, so surely there must be another love in his life by this time, someone who could share in his laughter? It wasn’t very likely, Sophie was sure, that a physically fit man of thirty-nine should have remained celibate since the death of his wife, not when he had the added bonus of looking the way Maximilian Grant did. But she mustn’t think about how attractive he was, certainly shouldn’t remember that fierce physical ache she had known when her body was pressed so intimately against his such a short time ago!
And there was his daughter, sixteen-year-old Jennifer; didn’t she bring laughter and happiness into his life? As lovingly close to her own parents as she was, she couldn’t see how a father and daughter left alone together couldn’t become even closer because of their loss. But perhaps Maximilian Grant’s wealth even put a barrier between himself and his daughter; it would be extremely difficult in such circumstances, and given Maximilian’s wealth, not to at least financially spoil a young girl who had been left motherless. Perhaps there was something to be said for genteel poverty, after all…
‘Now, it seems, I’ve taken the laughter from your life too,’ Maximilian murmured with regret, blue eyes narrowed as he watched the differing emotions flickering across her face.
‘Oh, no,’ she hastened to reassure him. ‘I was just–thinking,’ she told him lamely, hoping he wouldn’t ask what she had been thinking about; she doubted that people very often felt sorry for this man, or that he would thank them for doing it!
‘A dangerous pastime, I’ve found,’ he drawled dismissively. ‘I think it’s time we went to bed now, don’t you? Why, “Jane",’ he taunted as her face went pink. ‘You surely didn’t think I was suggesting we go to bed together?’ He raised his brows mockingly.
This man did have a sense of humour after all, even if it was a little cruel! ‘Of course not,’ she snapped. ‘Mr Rochester would never have suggested anything so improper,’ she mocked in return.
Maximillian’s mouth twisted. ‘A twentieth-century Rochester might,’ he said softly. ‘Remember, he wasn’t averse to trying to marry Jane while already having a wife!’
Sophie gave that some thought. Mr Rochester hadn’t been above trying to take what he wanted, namely Jane as his wife, any way that he could within the bounds of Jane’s propriety; a modern-day Rochester probably would
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