Millionaire Under The Mistletoe. Janice Maynard

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СКАЧАТЬ and opened her mouth. ‘You bet I…’ The blood drained dramatically from her face. ‘I…no,’ she admitted with the utmost reluctance—now would have been a good time to lie.

      ‘As I was saying, from the first moment I saw you…’

      Perhaps the significance of her confession was wasted on him…? Then again, perhaps this was wishful thinking on her part.

      ‘The first moment you saw me you thought I was a boy. Is there something you’re not telling me…?’

      He eyed her with signs of irritation. ‘So, not the first,’ he gritted. ‘We’re not talking about then, we’re talking about now.’

      Darcy didn’t want to talk about now—actually, she didn’t want to talk about anything with this infuriating man who seemed to have the knack of making her say incriminating things.

      ‘And now,’ she announced coldly, ‘I’m going home—or I would be if you’d shift yourself.’ She looked pointedly past his shoulder at the door.

      Reece immediately stepped to one side with a fluid grace that made her stomach muscles quiver; perversely she found herself reluctant to take the escape route offered.

      Whilst she hovered indecisively he moved to her side. ‘I’ll walk you home.’

      Darcy’s eyes widened. ‘You’re joking—right?’

      ‘Actually,’ he confessed, ‘I was hoping you’d let me have the use of your shower, or, better still, a long, hot bath.’

      ‘My God, but you’ve got a nerve!’ she gasped.

      ‘I’ve also got several broken ribs, extensive bruising and a bust shoulder, but don’t let that influence your decision.’

      Despite herself, Darcy felt a smile forming. ‘We’re not a hotel!’ she told him severely.

      ‘Is that a no?’

      Darcy’s eyes narrowed. ‘It should be.’ He didn’t look surprised by her capitulation, but then, why would he, when you’ve already proved you’re a push-over in every sense of the word? ‘If you say anything to my family about…you know what…’

      ‘So, Darce…?’

      ‘So what?’ Darcy waved her secateurs in her brother’s face. ‘If you’re going to get in my way you might as well carry this lot.’ She indicated the large pile of freshly cut holly at her feet.

      ‘Me!’

      My God, but men were hopeless. ‘I suppose you’d just stand there and watch me shift the lot.’ They’d certainly stand by and watch her decorate the house with boughs of festive greenery, not to mention decorate the enormous tree that by family tradition they collected from the local garden centre owned by her godparents.

      ‘It’s sharp.’

      ‘It’s holly, Nick; of course it’s sharp.’

      ‘This sweater cost me a fortune,’ he grumbled, preceding her up the garden path. ‘Where do you want it?’ he asked when they eventually reached the house.

      ‘Leave it in the porch. Feel like a cup of coffee?’ she asked as her brother followed her into the house.

      ‘I feel like some answers.’

      Darcy, her expression suspicious, watched as he plucked a couple of stray glossy leaves from the fine rib of his sweater.

      ‘About what?’ she asked, trying not to sound defensive.

      ‘About what you were doing with our neighbour. I thought you couldn’t stand him.’

      ‘I can’t,’ Darcy asserted stoutly. ‘The man had a serious accident. What was I supposed to do—say he couldn’t take a shower?’ She turned away, crashing the cups and saucers. ‘Did you say you wanted tea or coffee?’

      ‘Neither. It would be when you bumped into him while you were walking the dogs that he asked to use our facilities, would it, Darce…?’

      ‘Yes, that’s right,’ she agreed quickly, not turning around.

      ‘Since when, little sister, did you take the dogs for a walk wearing your pyjamas?’

      Darcy started and spilt the milk over the work surface.

      ‘Language!’ her brother reproached.

      She shot him a withering glance and wiped her clammy palms on the seat of her jeans before she picked up the cup; the faint tremor in her fingers was barely noticeable—though eagle-eyed Nick had probably spotted it.

      ‘Since when did you become Miss Marple?’ She laughed lightly as she planted herself on a chair and raised the scalding drink to her lips. Playing it down was the best way to go…

      ‘Since I looked into your room after I took the dogs for a walk around seven and found you weren’t there.’

      All the colour bar a small pink circle over either cheek fled Darcy’s guilty face. ‘What were you doing in my room?’

      ‘Fetching you a cup of tea.’

      It was typical of Nick to discover his considerate side at the worst possible moment. ‘Oh…’ What else could she say? She certainly wasn’t going to volunteer any more information if she could help it!

      ‘What is a guy like him with that sort of serious money doing hanging around someone like you?’ Nick wondered suspiciously. ‘No offence intended, Darce…’ he added casually.

      Darcy wondered what he’d say if she told him she took offence—serious offence. She was about to quiz her tactless sibling on the ‘serious money’ statement when his next comment distracted her.

      ‘Has he followed you here, Darcy, is that it? I’m assuming you’d already met before yesterday.’

      ‘Why on earth would you think that?’ There was no way he could have picked anything up from her attitude when she’d brought Reece back earlier. She’d been very careful about that—so careful, in fact, that her behaviour had bordered on the catatonic, before she’d swiftly excused herself and nipped off to the church to do the flowers—it was Mum’s turn on the rota; Adam would probably have a fit when he saw her efforts.

      ‘I think that because I didn’t think you were the sort of girl who would spend the night with a complete stranger.’ If what he had said wasn’t bad enough, Nick had to go and make it even worse by adding, ‘Even if he is rich and powerful.’

      For several moments Darcy didn’t do anything, but when she finally lifted her eyes from the rim of her coffee-cup they were sparkling with anger.

      ‘How dare you?’

      Nick looked taken aback by the rancour in his sister’s shaking voice. ‘Come on, Darce, you must admit it was pretty sus…’

      ‘I don’t have to admit anything!’ she said in a low, intense voice that throbbed СКАЧАТЬ