Hired for the Boss's Bedroom (13 page)

‘So you want me to spend the night at Katherine’s?’

‘If you don’t mind?’

‘No, that’s fine.’ While her head was still in a crazy spin, he, she couldn’t help but notice, was as cool as a cucumber, super-polite and the last word in courteous. Heather was dismayed to find that she preferred the passion and heat of his anger.

‘In fact,’ Leo thought aloud, ‘it might be altogether more convenient if you do as I’ve done—move in, just for a week or so. My mother should be back home by then, and I will get my housekeeper in London to come up and take care of all the chores as soon as she’s back in the house. She’ll need full-time help, and whilst Katrina’s here she can also take care of the chores. She’s an excellent cook in addition to everything else.’

A week or so…
Temptation which would have had her bolting for cover a few weeks ago now dangled in front of her eyes like a banquet placed in front of a starving man. That second kiss had been a revelation. That little preaching voice that should have emerged and given her a strong lecture about keeping away from the man had gone into hiding, and in its place was a much more seductive voice, telling her that there was nothing wrong in snatching a little excitement. Was there?

‘Sure.’

‘Good,’ Leo murmured with soft satisfaction. ‘It’s nice to know that we finally agree on something.’

L
EO
wasn’t sure what demon possessed him. He really hadn’t meant to return to his mother’s house that evening. Who in his right mind would get in his car in the dead of night to commence a laborious drive into the country, when he could stay in the comfort of his own place which was a stone’s throw away from his office?

In fact, he actually returned to his apartment, poured himself a whisky which he didn’t drink and then came to the conclusion that for reasons unknown, the cool, undemanding, clutter-free confines of his penthouse apartment, which had been his sanctuary for all these years, now felt inadequate.

At which point he abandoned the untouched drink, switched off the banks of overhead spotlights which cruelly contoured every line and angle of the pale leather-and-chrome furniture and headed for his car.

This was the first time in living memory that Leo had undertaken the trip to his mother’s house without first clearing his diary. Under normal circumstances, the visit would be arranged beforehand and he would arrive, usually running late because of work commitments, to a well-ordered and preplanned weekend. He would undertake his paternal duties, which would involve expensive dining, and the purchase of at least one super-watt gift which Daniel would accept without a great deal of relish. Goodbyes would be said and he would return, with some relief, to the sanity of what he knew best: his work. His apartment. London.

He felt curiously light hearted as the car ate up the miles between London and his mother’s house. He was looking forward to the change of environment, he told himself. His makeshift office had worked out even better than he had imagined. It wasn’t the clinical, distraction-free zone to which he was accustomed, but it still felt weirdly comfortable.

Then there was Daniel. He had eventually broken through the barrier of his own reluctance and had had the little heart-to-heart chat which Heather had recommended. It had lasted all of fifteen minutes. He had awkwardly reassured his son that Katherine would be back in no time at all, and also that he would be at hand, making sure that everything was all right. Then they had talked about football. In between there had been glimpses of boyish charm, which had made Leo uneasily aware of the truth that life was never as clear cut as you might expect. As he might expect.

Now, cutting through the night, he found himself looking forward to seeing Daniel in the morning. He had managed to get a couple of tickets to a football game in London; prime spot. He figured they might strike a note, which none of his previous presents had, and he was looking forward to seeing his son’s face when he was presented with them. With that in mind, he could push back the poisonous surge of regret, which was in a place he knew he was ill advised to visit.

And then there was Heather.

Heather, who would be moving in while Katherine was still in hospital. Heather, who had been at such pains to avoid him, now deciding to set up camp under his roof. Two and two, in Leo’s opinion, made four. Right now, he was playing with the pleasurable conclusion that, having fought to keep her attraction at bay to the point where she had knocked him back with a few snappy remarks about ‘being disillusioned’ and ‘waiting for the right guy’—who, incidentally, would never be him—she had finally cracked under the weight of the inevitable. Namely, she wanted him, and she was now willing to compromise her principles.

As far as Leo was concerned, it made perfect sense. Her principles might be laudably high minded, but they were totally unrealistic. She had talked scathingly of his lack of interest in emotional involvement, thereby putting herself on a moral pedestal. Not only would it be satisfying personally to see her step off that pedestal, he was also doing her a favour, he reckoned.

She might have been hurt, but hell, what sort of life was she condemning herself to? Did she imagine that she could escape all hurt by withdrawing from the process of living? He was reintroducing her to the notion of involvement: you had to stick your hands in and get dirty or else what you would be living was a non-life.

His thoughts were pleasant company for the duration of the journey which flew past, because at such a late hour there was little traffic on the roads. By the time he finally arrived at the house it was very late, but the outside light was on and there was a welcoming air to the place which, he had to admit, was lacking in his apartment. There was something to be said for the crunch of gravel under the wheels of a car, and the soft murmur of a breeze that didn’t carry the sounds of ambulances, police cars and fire engines.

Letting himself in and standing still for a few seconds so that his eyes could adjust to the darkness, Leo quietly placed his computer case on the ground and then silently moved towards the curving banister. There was no point turning on all the lights. Heather and Daniel would both be asleep. He might have the kind of constitution that needed very little sleep, but he could appreciate that most people were not built like him, especially children.

By any standards, his mother’s house was big. The first floor housed myriad rooms, including a small sitting-room. It had struck Leo, when he had looked over the floor plans from the Estate agency, as very handy for an older person. His mother could watch television at night without having to trek upstairs to get to her bedroom. It was now shrouded in darkness. He was glancing absentmindedly through the half-open door when the blow to his shoulder blades caught him by surprise and had him reeling against the wall. He regained his control and swung round, fists clenched in anticipation of teaching whoever had hit him from behind a lesson they wouldn’t forget any time soon.

He knew it was Heather by her height; nothing else could be made out because the corridor was in complete darkness. He reached out and grabbed her hand before the five-inch thick, hardback book could deliver another well-aimed blow.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

Between swinging her hand and the book making contact with the intruder—an encyclopaedia of the type now virtually extinct, thanks to the Internet, but still in plentiful supply in Katherine’s library—it had clicked in Heather’s head that the intruder in question was Leo.

She hadn’t had time to pull back from hitting him with cracking accuracy between his shoulder blades, which he was now rubbing with one hand.

She couldn’t make out the expression on his face, but she didn’t think he would be smiling indulgently at her mistake.

‘I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be here!’

‘Why are you always so shocked when I show up in my own house?’

‘It’s not technically
your
house, and you told me that you were going to be away for the night. I…I heard a noise…’

‘I tried to be as quiet as possible!’

Heather could feel her heart beating like a drum inside her. Having spent the entire evening thinking about him, to see him now, towering over her, made her feel as though the oxygen was being sucked out of her body. He was like an addiction, and when he was around every ounce of her felt alive. She wondered whether he was aware that she was trembling.

‘That’s just it…I’m a light sleeper. I heard something, and I assumed it was a burglar.’

‘So you just rushed out here, armed with…what is it? One of my mother’s books?’ Leo felt a rising tide of anger rush through him as he contemplated the consequences of her stupidity,
had
he indeed been a burglar. ‘A…let’s have a look now.’ He relieved her of the book and pushed the light switch on the wall. ‘Oh yes; an encyclopaedia of plants. Just the thing you’d need to protect yourself and Daniel against someone who might have been carrying a gun. Or a knife.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think.’ And she wasn’t doing too well in the thinking stakes now either. Leo looked neither tired nor crumpled after his long drive out of London. In fact, he looked infuriatingly wide awake and every inch the staggeringly sexy alpha-male that had haunted her thoughts. Realising that she was inappropriately clad in her dressing gown, which she had hurriedly shoved over her shortie pyjamas, Heather pulled the cord tightly around her middle. But even that gesture of modesty couldn’t staunch the tingling feeling in her nipples or the dryness in her mouth. She was crazily conscious of his masculinity as he continued to look at her with frowning concentration.

‘Well, you damn well should have!’

‘Lower your voice! You’re going to wake Daniel!’

‘I’m not finished with you. We can carry on this conversation downstairs.’

‘I’m not coming downstairs with you. I’m tired. I want to get back to my bed.’

‘Tough. Follow me.’ He spun round on his heels, and after a few seconds of agonised indecision Heather grudgingly followed him down the staircase, still clutching her robe tightly around her as if afraid that it might fly open of its own volition and expose her swollen, tender breasts and stiff, aroused nipples. Her thoughts were everywhere, but she knew that there was no way she would get any sleep that night if she didn’t pursue the conversation to its natural conclusion.

Instead of heading to the kitchen, where she expected he might want to make himself a cup of coffee, he peeled away towards one of the three sitting-rooms on the ground floor, and the only one which was actually used.

‘You could have been killed,’ he told her abruptly, moving to switch on a lamp on one of the many coffee tables before taking up position on the squashy, flowered sofa.

‘
You
could have been killed on the way here,’ Heather immediately countered. ‘You could have lost control of your car and wrapped yourself round a tree.’

‘Impossible. Sit. Please.’

‘So you
do
remember what I said about not liking being ordered around.’ She perched on the side of the sofa, simply because she didn’t care for the thought of arguing with him across the width of the room in the early hours of the morning. ‘What do you think your mother would have done in my position, if she had heard a noise? And it’s happened before, for your information. Okay, it might just have been the house creaking, but she’s done exactly what I did.’

‘She told you that? She never told me. When did this happen?’

‘The last time was several months ago, shortly after Daniel had arrived. She probably would have hunkered down and ignored the creak, but when there’s a child in the house hunkering down isn’t an option—and, short of sleeping with a gun under the pillow, you just have to use what you’ve got to hand.’

‘I will need to do something about this. Why didn’t she mention anything to me? No, scrap that question.’

Heather saw the flash of painful realisation that Katherine had kept quiet because she hadn’t wanted to bother her busy son who had no time for her or her life in the country which was so far removed from his.

‘It’s a big house, Leo,’ she said awkwardly. ‘And it’s old. Big, old houses make noises, and they can be a little creepy at night.’

‘I had the most sophisticated alarm-system installed when the house was bought,’ Leo pointed out, frowning.

‘Katherine doesn’t like to switch it on at night. She thinks she might wake up in the middle of the night to get something to drink and set if off by mistake.’

‘Right.’

‘Also, Daniel might, as well, and he’d be terrified if he set it off.’

‘So you prefer to make use of the encyclopaedia of plants instead?’

She knew that he would be having a hard time understanding, probably never having been scared of anything in his life. ‘It’s pretty heavy.’

‘I can’t see my mother having the strength to lift it.’

‘She probably uses the concise version.’

Leo looked at her and then threw back his dark, arrogant head and laughed. When he stopped laughing, the atmosphere had subtly changed. There was a sudden, charged intimacy in the air between them, and Heather found that she was holding her breath, riveted by his proximity and unable to tear her shamefully hungry eyes away from his face.

‘You make me laugh,’ Leo admitted roughly. ‘Not many people do. I like that.’

Heather felt disproportionately good at that confession. This was what he did to her. He made her feel like a woman and not just like a faceless, sexless person who helped out at charity fund-raisers, pursued her isolated career, tended her garden and helped out at the local school. He made her feel wanton and youthful, and she had forgotten how that felt. Even when she had been married to Brian she had not felt that.

‘And you make me feel…’ She ran out of steam, and her half-finished sentence hung tantalisingly in the air between them.

‘How? How do I make you feel? I’ll take a couple of guesses here—angry? Pissed off?’

‘That as well.’

‘As well as what?’

‘I…I should go back to bed.’

‘No, you don’t. You’re not doing a runner on me, Heather,’ Leo growled, catching her arm and pulling her back before she could take flight.

Heather gave a little yelp of dismay as she lost her precarious balance and toppled back onto the sofa, half-falling against him, and then stumbling frantically to right herself, in the process coming into way too much contact with his body for her liking.

His body was warm and hard, and feeling it under her hands sent her mind into a tailspin. She half-closed her eyes and drew in a deep, steadying breath.

No, he wasn’t holding on to her. No, he wasn’t trying to pin her down or take advantage of her vulnerable position in any way whatsoever. In fact, he was in the process of straightening up so that she could angle her body away from him, but the guilty pleasure she had tried so hard to deny before finally accepting it now exploded inside her like a bomb that had been waiting to detonate. She was shaking like a leaf as she turned her face up to him, and reached forward, closing her eyes and blindly searching out his mouth.

Leo stifled a groan and awkwardly shifted his weight under her, because the erection pressing tight against his zip was downright uncomfortable.

This was what he had wanted, what he had felt assured would be the eventual outcome between them—but now that the moment was here he was compelled to recognise that this wasn’t just any woman who would happily hop into bed with him at the snap of his arrogant fingers.