At The Millionaire's Bidding. Lee Wilkinson

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      ‘Sit down,’ he ordered. Adding, ‘Please,’ almost as an afterthought.

      There was so much quiet authority in his voice, that she found herself obeying.

      ‘Tell me, what makes you think I’ve just been amusing myself?’

      She refused to back down. ‘Well, you have, haven’t you? It’s obvious.’

      Tawny eyes gleaming, he asked, ‘Would it alter your opinion if I offered you the job?’

      ‘It wouldn’t alter my opinion, but it would make the last half-hour or so worth it.’

      He laughed, and she noticed that his mouth and teeth were just perfect.

      ‘I’m glad to see you have spirit. I thought you might have had it all knocked out of you.’

      Startled, she asked, ‘What made you think that?’

      ‘Instinct mainly. I have a feeling that life hasn’t been too kind.’

      The last thing she wanted was Robert Carrington’s pity. ‘It’s been kinder to me than it has to a lot of people,’ she informed him briskly. ‘I’ve never been ill-treated or gone hungry. I’m healthy and able to work. I’ve a place of my own and someone who—’ Unable to say the words, she stopped speaking abruptly.

      ‘Someone who loves you?’ he hazarded. ‘In that case you’re one up on me.’

      Reaching across the desk, he lifted her left hand and examined the ring. ‘Am I right in thinking it’s Benson you’re going to marry?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘How long have you been engaged?’

      ‘Eight months.’

      He looked surprised. ‘And you’re not living together.’ It was a statement not a question.

      Suddenly feeling like some kind of misfit in this modern world, she objected stiffly, ‘I’m not sure how you reached that conclusion.’

      Ironically, he told her, ‘When you were listing your blessings, you said, “I’ve got a place of my own”…’

      She bit her lip.

      ‘So why are you playing hard to get? Afraid Benson will change his mind about marrying you if you give him your all?’

      Before she could think of any answer, he went on, ‘No wonder the poor devil’s so edgy if you’re keeping him waiting.’

      ‘I’m not keeping him waiting,’ she denied sharply. ‘And he’s not edgy…’ But, even as she spoke, she knew he was, and had been for some weeks.

      Though it could hardly have been for the reason suggested. Perhaps Dave had seen more clearly than she had what was facing them financially…

      ‘If you’re not keeping him waiting, why aren’t you living together?’ Robert Carrington pursued relentlessly. ‘You know what they say about two being able to live as cheaply as one…’

      ‘I really don’t see that it’s any of your business. And you know what they say about curiosity killing the cat…’

      ‘Touché. But I’m afraid we’ve strayed from the point again.’

      Infuriated by his calm effrontery, and the way he had led her by the nose, she said through clenched teeth, ‘You mean you’ve strayed from the point.’

      ‘Aha!’ he exclaimed softly, ‘now you’re really starting to hold your own and answer me back. Perhaps you’ve decided you don’t want the job after all?’

      Hotly, she said, ‘If I have to jump through hoops to get it, the answer’s no, I don’t want it. You can keep your job.’

      He clicked his tongue against his teeth reprovingly. ‘Now how do you think Benson will feel about that?’

      Eleanor’s face grew still and stiff with despair. Why had she allowed this man to bait and torment her until she was rattled enough to throw away the job they needed so badly.

      Dave would never forgive her. Never.

      ‘Feel about what?’

      Startled, she looked up to find he was standing in the office doorway.

      ‘Did your appointment go well?’ Robert Carrington enquired sardonically.

      Dave, who was no fool, merely said, ‘Very well, thanks. But you were asking how I’d feel about something?’

      With a spurious air of confidence he strolled round the desk and, watched by the other man, took the chair Eleanor had vacated for him.

      After giving Dave time to get seated, and her time to sweat a little—she felt sure—Robert Carrington said, ‘Yes…As you’re aware, with this job, one of the main stumbling blocks was the length of time it would take to travel between London and Little Meldon each day. Well, that problem has been partially solved…’

      As she waited tensely, wondering what he was up to, his eyes caught and held hers. An unmistakable challenge in their tawny depths, he continued smoothly, ‘Miss Smith has agreed that she would be quite willing to live at my home, Greyladies Manor, while the work is in progress…’

      His words brought a shock of surprise and, mentally reeling, she wondered why he had lied.

      Common sense told her she should be grateful that he had let her off the hook, but the last thing she wanted was to have to live under his roof.

      And somehow he must have guessed as much.

      So had he presented it as a fait accompli merely to force her hand?

      Cocking an eyebrow at her, he waited for her to say something. When she bit her lip and stayed silent, he turned to Dave and went on, ‘I was asking Eleanor how you would feel about living there?’

      ‘Then you’re giving us the job?’ Dave burst out eagerly.

      ‘That all depends. To enable the work to be completed as quickly as possible, I’d like you both to be on the spot.’

      As Dave opened his mouth to argue, Robert added, ‘If you’re prepared to meet me on this, all well and good. If you’re not…’

      He left the sentence hanging in the air, but the threat was plain.

      Eleanor looked at Dave, unconsciously holding her breath.

      Plainly torn, wanting to tell this arrogant so and so where to get off, but knowing they needed the job, he hesitated. It was perhaps twenty seconds before he agreed reluctantly, ‘I suppose if that’s what you want.’

      ‘It is.’

      ‘Okay.’

      ‘In that case, how soon can you start?’

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