His Scandalous Mistress: The Master's Mistress / Count Toussaint's Pregnant Mistress / Castellano's Mistress of Revenge. Кейт Хьюит

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ your—your present profession.’

      ‘No, you didn’t,’ Rogan agreed. ‘I assure you I have absolutely nothing I need to hide from the police, Elizabeth. Can you claim the same?’

      She frowned at the challenge she heard in his voice. ‘What could I possibly have to hide?’

      Rogan folded his arms across his chest. ‘You tell me.’

      Elizabeth gave a confused shake of her head. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about… ’

      He scowled. ‘How much does a university lecturer earn, Elizabeth? Not nearly enough, I’m sure. And no matter how much it is, I’m sure you could still use a couple of hundred grand extra to put in the bank.’

      ‘You think that I did this?’ Elizabeth gasped weakly, her hand moving up to her throat. ‘That I came back from our swim and deliberately wrecked the library in an effort to cover up the fact that I’ve stolen the first edition Darwin?’

      Rogan’s mouth thinned. ‘It doesn’t sound any less plausible than you thinking I’m a damned mercenary!’

      No, it didn’t sound less plausible, Elizabeth acknowledged numbly. Except her salary as a university lecturer wasn’t her only source of income. A university lecturer was what Elizabeth was, what she did, but the money she earned doing it was nothing compared to the legacy her mother had left for her when she had died ten years ago.

      But that happened to be Elizabeth’s business and no one else’s!

      She straightened. ‘I believe we’ve possibly insulted each other enough for one morning, don’t you?’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know—’

      ‘Rogan!’ Elizabeth interrupted. ‘Let’s just call the police now and let them handle this investigation.’

      Rogan studied her through narrowed lids, knowing by her suddenly closed expression that she was hiding something. Whether that something had anything to do with the wrecking of the library, he had no idea…

      ‘Well, that wasn’t too helpful, was it?’ Rogan said frustratedly an hour or so later, as he helped Elizabeth pick up the books and check the titles before putting them into neat piles.

      The police had arrived, ascertained there were no signs of forced entry, taken their report, and then left again. All within the space of that one hour.

      ‘I did tell you that there had been several break-ins in the area recently,’ Elizabeth answered him distractedly, as she checked the titles of yet more books.

      ‘The police might stand a better chance of catching the thief if they took a little more interest in the scene of the crime!’ Rogan muttered scathingly.

      ‘We don’t know if there’s been a crime—except for the obvious vandalism—until we check whether or not any of the books are missing,’ Elizabeth reasoned. Much as the police had said a short time ago, which was why she and Rogan were now trying to sort the books into some sort of order.

      Which, Elizabeth knew, could take hours. Days. It was one thing to catalogue the books when they were in some sort of order on the shelves, another thing altogether to know whether or not any of them had been stolen when they were piled haphazardly on the floor.

      ‘Perhaps it won’t take too long to establish whether or not the Darwin is missing,’ she added with a frown.

      ‘We’re more in need of your services than ever, it seems,’ Rogan drawled as he resumed checking the titles of the books before stacking them.

      Elizabeth gave him a sharp look. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

      ‘It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.’ Rogan sighed his impatience with the increased tension between them. The break-in and their insulting conversation just now had certainly put their lovemaking in the cove onto the back burner!

      Made a nonsense of it, in fact.

      Which was probably as well, because Rogan was more determined than ever to get out of here, and out of England, as soon as he possibly could.

      He straightened. ‘I’ll go and ask Mrs Baines to make us a pot of coffee. It might help us get through this,’ he added dryly, before disappearing to the kitchen.

      As Elizabeth distractedly resumed checking and stacking the books, she wished she could make this whole morning disappear: making love with Rogan, discovering the break-in, their conversation afterwards, the unhelpfulness of the police. A pot of coffee wasn’t even going to come close to taking away the suspicion and tension that now, more than ever, existed between them.

      They hadn’t been acquainted with each other long enough to really know each other. They certainly didn’t trust each other.

      The first might nullify the second, of course. But, as Rogan had stated his intention of leaving immediately after his father’s funeral, that was never going to happen.

      Which was probably as well. Elizabeth’s uncharacteristic reaction to Rogan this morning—that wild, out-of-control response!—told her she knew him well enough, at least, to want to stay well away from him in future.

      ‘I’m sorry I was gone so long, but I couldn’t find Mrs Baines so I made the coffee myself—Elizabeth, are you crying?’ Rogan probed disbelievingly as he came back into the library carrying the tray of coffee things and saw tears tracking wetly down Elizabeth’s cheeks.

      She raised a hand and touched her face, her eyes widening as she felt the wetness there. ‘I’m sorry. I simply don’t understand how anyone could have done this.’ Her expression was bewildered as she stared down at the tumble of books that still surrounded her. ‘Books don’t harm people. They’re here to provide knowledge. Entertainment. They’re my life.’ Her voice wobbled emotionally. ‘My friends,’ she added shakily as the tears once again fell softly down her cheeks.

      Rogan put down the tray before crossing to her side to look down at her searchingly, knowing by the bruised look beneath her eyes, the pallor of her cheeks and the slight trembling of her hands that she was genuinely shaken by this whole thing.

      He liked and appreciated books as much as the next man—or woman—but, as with all objects, he considered them replaceable.

      Elizabeth talked about them lovingly, felt pained at their having been tumbled from the shelves in this way. She called them her friends…

      There weren’t too many people in his life that Rogan trusted, but he would certainly count Ace, Grant, Ricky and a couple of other men he had served with amongst them.

      What sort of life had Elizabeth led—did she still lead?—that she considered books her friends rather than people?

      ‘Hey, it’s not the end of the world.’ He put his fist beneath her chin and raised her face so that he could look down at her. ‘A couple of hours and we should have restored some semblance of order.’

      Elizabeth was totally aware of the touch of Rogan’s hand as it burned against her skin, knew she should move away, but as the darkness of his gaze captured hers, and the warmth of his body so close to hers acted almost like a narcotic, she felt unable do so.

      She СКАЧАТЬ