His Rags-to-Riches Bride: Innocent on Her Wedding Night / Housekeeper at His Beck and Call / The Australian's Housekeeper Bride. Susan Stephens

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      ‘What the hell have you done to yourself?’ He sounded resigned.

      ‘My ankle’s twisted, that’s all,’ she said shortly. ‘Please leave me alone, and don’t fuss.’

      ‘I’m not the one squawking with pain.’

      To her horror, Daniel picked her up and carried her to one of the long sofas that flanked the fireplace, placing her on the cushions. It was the work of a moment, but it forced an all-too potent reminder of the cool, clean scent of his bare skin into her consciousness.

      Oh, God, she thought, a feeling akin to panic unravelling inside her, I don’t need this.

      He knelt, and began to undo the bandage.

      She said tautly, ‘I can manage by myself.’

      His glance was ironic. ‘Now who’s making the fuss?’

      Laine subsided, flushing mutinously. She stared over his shoulder, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, her nerve-endings jangling as Daniel frowningly examined the swollen joint.

      ‘When did you do this?’

      She hunched a shoulder. ‘The other day.’

      ‘You should have rested it at once,’ he said tersely. ‘So start now.’ He rose lithely and went into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a plastic bag filled with ice cubes. ‘Here. Hold this against it.’

      She complied reluctantly, her expression rebellious as Daniel tied it on with the discarded bandage.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said tautly when his task was completed.

      ‘No need for gratitude,’ he said caustically as he straightened. ‘I have a vested interest in seeing that you have both legs in good working order. Job hunting requires a lot of exercise, and you need to start earning without delay.’

      She lifted her chin. ‘Please don’t worry. I’ve always paid my way.’

      ‘Not always,’ he said softly. ‘But these days I prefer cash, rather than kind. It’s more reliable.’

      She was rigid. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

      ‘Work it out for yourself,’ he said coldly, and disappeared back to the kitchen, leaving her gasping in fury. When he returned, he was carrying a glass of water on a saucer, with two capsules lying beside it.

      ‘Here,’ he said. ‘Take these.’

      ‘What are they?’

      ‘Painkillers,’ he said with a hint of acid. ‘Don’t worry. You won’t wake up in two days’ time in some Middle Eastern brothel.’

      If you knew, she thought, as she reluctantly swallowed the capsules, and handed back the glass. If you had the least idea of what’s happened in the past few days, then perhaps you’d understand why I’m strung on wires. But you don’t—and anyway you’re the last person in the world that I could ever tell.

      He was looking at her frowningly. ‘Have you eaten?’

      ‘There was food on the plane,’ she returned evasively. She hadn’t touched any of it. She’d felt sick to her stomach, as well as sick at heart, her mind going in dazed circles as she tried to make sense of what Andy had done. The brutal extent of his betrayal.

      And to come reeling out of hell, after all she’d been through, to find this man of all men waiting for her was the final shattering blow.

      He paused. ‘I’m going to make coffee. Do you want some?’

      Laine shook her head. ‘No—thank you.’

      She leaned back against the cushions, closing her eyes. Blocking him out physically would be a start, she thought wearily. The beginning of a long, uphill struggle to free herself from him, and the memories he evoked, which, incredibly, still had the power to devastate even two long years further on.

      But her senses still told her when he moved away, and how pathetic was that? How could she be so aware of a man who’d deliberately and cynically betrayed her? Who’d destroyed her self-esteem and her trust, along with the first delirious ache of first love. A love that had left her in small pieces, unfulfilled and almost destroyed.

      But she couldn’t let herself think about that. Not now. Not ever. She had other far more important considerations to deal with—like finding work.

      As he’d so charmingly indicated, she thought, gritting her teeth.

      She could hear the distant chink of crockery as he moved around in the kitchen, and shifted restlessly on the cushions.

      Oh, God, these coming weeks were going to be the kind of agony that no painkillers could ever touch, but, whatever her feelings, she couldn’t afford to move out immediately, and he probably knew it.

      She’d always hoped that if they ever met again by some mischance, far in the future, she’d be so bolstered by her own success—her own happiness—that she could look him in the eye with indifference.

      But Fate had planned it otherwise.

      She had no idea how much money she had in her bank account, but it couldn’t be much. And she’d used the last remaining bit of credit on her card to buy her ticket home, so that was another bill she could expect eventually.

      And now, with Jamie gone, she couldn’t even beg a temporary loan.

      I think I’ve just hit rock bottom, she thought. Unless there’s another layer they haven’t mentioned.

      ‘Don’t go to sleep, Laine.’ His voice made her jump. ‘Try and switch yourself to London time, or you could be jet-lagged for days.’

      She opened reluctant eyes and looked at him. He was holding out a beaker.

      ‘I suggest you drink this. You need the caffeine to get you started.’

      She said haughtily, ‘If this is intended as some kind of olive branch …’

      ‘I know. I can stick it where the sun don’t shine. But don’t worry. It’s not peace I’m offering—more an armed truce. Now, take it.’

      She bit her lip, and obeyed with open reluctance. The brew it contained was black and strong without sugar, just as she liked it, which somehow made acceptance even more galling.

      He sat down on the sofa opposite, stretching out long legs, observing her narrow-eyed. ‘And what are your career plans now that boat chartering has hit the rocks?’

      She stiffened defensively. ‘I didn’t actually say that.’

      ‘You didn’t have to. You hardly came in whistling A life on the ocean wave.’

      She took another sip of coffee while she tried to think of an acceptable approximation of the truth. ‘Let’s just say that my partner and I discovered we had irreconcilable differences and leave it at that.’

      Daniel’s СКАЧАТЬ