Mistress To A Millionaire. Helen Brooks

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      Oh, this was awful, awful; what should she do? Daisy stared at him, her honey-gold eyes enormous in the wan paleness of her face, and then, as he returned her look steadily, his face now betraying nothing but friendly concern, it was all suddenly too much. She felt too ill and too exhausted to argue with him, and all she wanted to do was to sleep.

      ‘All right.’ She heard the words with a pang of self-disgust at her feebleness. ‘But I insist on paying you back eventually. It just might take a while.’

      ‘We’ll discuss that when you’re feeling better.’ He glanced at the gold watch on one tanned wrist, and now it struck her that his suit alone must have cost a small fortune. ‘I have an appointment; I must go. Goodbye for now.’

      She nodded her farewell, her eyelids already closing, and she was asleep before he had even closed the door behind him.

      For the rest of the day Daisy alternately woke for a few minutes and then slept again, but the next morning, after a solid night’s sleep, she awoke properly. The muzziness which had clouded her thinking was gone, her mind was her own again, and she was ravenously hungry even though it still hurt just to breathe.

      It appeared Slade Eastwood had called a few times the day before for reports on her progress, but it wasn’t until that evening, and after a delicious dinner of chicken and mushrooms in a white wine sauce with fresh vegetables, that the man himself made an appearance. Daisy had just scraped the last remnants of chocolate mousse from her dish—a process made more difficult by the fact that her right arm was now as stiff as a board and she was using her left hand—and as a sharp knock sounded at the door she knew immediately who it was.

      ‘Come in.’ She was pleased how firm and controlled her voice sounded; she wasn’t feeling a bit like that inside. Melted jelly, more like, she thought irritably as she took as deep a breath as her ribs would allow and pushed the tray aside as the door opened.

      ‘Hello again.’

      This time the lithe, lean body was dressed in black denim jeans and a heavy black leather jacket, and his dark presence seemed to fill the room as he came towards the bed. But Daisy was prepared this time—just—for the impact he had on her.

      ‘Hello.’ She even managed a relatively normal smile, which faltered slightly as he presented her with a beautiful little posy of pink rosebuds and small perfect daisies enclosed in lace and silk ribbons. ‘Oh…thank you, they’re lovely,’ she said quickly as the delicate perfume of the roses touched her senses.

      ‘My pleasure.’ It was deep and sardonic and the black eyes swept over her with something in their depths that brought a flush to her cheeks. And then he hooked the upholstered straight-backed chair the nurse had left by the side of the bed with one hand, sitting astride it with his forearms resting on its back as he said, ‘How are you feeling?’

      How was she feeling? Up to a minute ago she’d been feeling as though she’d made enormous progress, but now she felt as dazed as when she’d first regained consciousness! But she wasn’t about to betray that to those piercingly astute eyes.

      ‘Much better, thank you.’ She forced another bright smile. ‘I’m sure I’ll be well enough to leave tomorrow and—’

      ‘The nurse tells me your immediate family live in the States?’ he interrupted lazily, one dark brow raised enquiringly. ‘So does that mean you’ve got no one to look after you when you leave here?’

      Daisy looked at him for a long moment without answering, but her brain was working rapidly. Her nurse had spent almost an hour chatting that afternoon about this and that, and she had felt at the time that some of the questions the woman had asked were inspired by more than casual interest. But the uniformed figure had been persistent, and although she had fielded quite a few of her carefully worded questions by the time the nurse had left Daisy had felt uneasy about how much she had revealed. And she felt doubly uneasy now.

      She shrugged lightly. ‘I don’t need anyone to look after me,’ she said evenly. ‘I’m a big girl now.’

      ‘A big girl who is lucky to be alive and must be feeling as though she has been run over by a steam engine,’ he countered smoothly. ‘And if your family live in the States and you have only just moved down here from Scotland—’ she was right, Daisy thought sharply, the nurse had been gathering information for Slade Eastwood ‘—the city can be a pretty lonely place,’ he finished quietly.

      Lonely? Lonely she could take, Daisy told herself silently. In fact in the last hellish sixteen months there had been times she would have welcomed it with open arms. She kept her voice very steady when she said, ‘It’s not a problem; really it isn’t.’

      ‘Yes, it is.’ It was cool and calm and imperturbable.

      The black eyes were holding hers effortlessly and in spite of herself she found it impossible to break the brilliant gaze. She gathered her scattered wits about her and tried for firmness. ‘Please don’t think I’m not grateful for all you’ve done, Mr Eastwood—’

      ‘Slade. I told you before.’

      It was the second time he had interrupted her in as many minutes and it was irritating, especially as the cold, arrogant face was watching her with a faintly patronising expression that caught her on the raw.

      Daisy took a long, silent breath and continued tightly, ‘But I am perfectly capable of looking after myself when I leave here.’

      ‘My car still bears the imprint of you looking after yourself,’ he said with a silkiness that disguised pure steel.

      As Daisy’s mouth came open in a little O of surprise and indignation he continued looking at her steadily, and then, as she spluttered a bit and searched frantically for a retort that would be adequately scathing, he smiled, his teeth showing white and strong against the tanned skin of his face.

      ‘Look, we seem to have got off on the wrong foot again.’

      His voice was smooth and assured and she didn’t trust him an inch—which was awful really, she told herself in the next instant, when he had been nothing but kindness itself. Installing her in this fabulous room, offering to pay for her stay, expressing concern for her welfare… Her sense of unease grew and it wasn’t helped by the overwhelming sense of vulnerability she was feeling. He was so big and dark and masculine, and as she was lying here, virtually helpless, his virility and devastating magnetism were more than a little threatening.

      ‘Of course we haven’t got off on the wrong foot.’ She was lying through her teeth and they both knew it. ‘It’s just that I prefer to be independent and pay my own way—’

      ‘How do you intend to do that without a job and in your present condition?’ he interjected coolly.

      If he did that one more time she would let him know exactly what she thought of his high-handed arrogance, Daisy told herself furiously as she struggled to keep calm and answer him. Not that there was an answer as such…

      ‘I have a little money put by,’ she said stiffly through clenched teeth, ‘and the doctor has advised me it will only be a matter of a few weeks before I am fit again. Once I get work I shall start reimbursing you,’ she assured him firmly.

      ‘I understand you work with children?’ In contrast to her taut body and tight voice he was utterly relaxed, his voice soft and low as he watched every expression on her face.

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