Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Captivated by Her Innocence

Captivated by Her Innocence
KIM LAWRENCE
Lessons in passion…Anna is moments away from securing her dream teaching job and a new life when it’s all ripped away. And there’s only one man to blame.Former racing driver Cesare Urquart believes Anna Henderson is the woman who nearly ended his best friend’s marriage. He’s never forgotten her lithe figure and flowing red hair. But when Anna arrives at his sprawling Scottish estate under his sister’s employment Cesare gets a rush of adrenaline he hasn’t felt for years. Soon he questions every notion he’s had about her.For beneath Anna’s feistiness is an irresistible innocence Cesare can’t leave unexplored…‘Full of danger and drama, every page brings a different facial expression!’ – Linda, 67, Whitbywww.caitlincrews.com


Lessons in passion…
Anna is moments away from securing her dream teaching job and a new life until it’s all ripped away. And there’s only one man to blame.
Former racing driver Cesare Urquart believes Anna Henderson is the woman who nearly ended his best friend’s marriage. He’s never forgotten her lithe figure and flowing red hair.
But when Anna arrives at his sprawling Scottish estate under his sister’s employment, Cesare gets a rush of adrenaline he hasn’t felt for years. Soon he questions every notion he’s had about her. For beneath Anna’s feistiness is an irresistible innocence Cesare can’t leave unexplored….

‘If you fail to live up to her expectations you will regret it.’
For several moments Anna remained too shocked by her own thought processes to respond.
‘Is that a threat, Mr Urquart?’ she finally asked quietly.
His dark eyebrows rose upwards. ‘It is a fact, Miss Henderson,’ he responded, without missing a beat.
Anna’s chin lifted and her blue eyes narrowed at the corners, darkening with purpose as she met his stare head-on. Excitement was not a sane response to the warning, yet it was there in the shiver that slid like a silken finger down her spine.
KIM LAWRENCE comes from English/Irish stock. Though lacking much authentic Welsh blood, she was born and brought up in North Wales. She returned there when she married, and her sons were both born on Anglesey, an island off the coast. Though not isolated, Anglesey is a little off the beaten track, but lively Dublin, which Kim loves, is only a short ferry-ride away.
Today they live on the farm her husband was brought up on. Welsh is the first language of many people in this area and Kim’s husband and sons are all bilingual—she is having a lot of fun, not to mention a few headaches, trying to learn the language!
When she had small children, the unsocial hours of nursing didn’t look attractive—so, encouraged by a husband who thinks she can do anything she sets her mind to, Kim tried her hand at writing. Always a keen Harlequin Mills & Boon reader, it seemed natural for her to write a romance novel—now she can’t imagine doing anything else.
She is a keen gardener and cook and enjoys running—often on the beach, as the sea is never very far away. She is usually accompanied by her Jack Russell, Sprout—don’t ask…it’s long story!
Recent titles by the same author:
MAID FOR MONTERO (At His Service) THE PETRELLI HEIR SANTIAGO’S COMMAND GIANNI’S PRIDE
Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
Captivated by Her Innocence
Kim Lawrence


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Contents
CHAPTER ONE (#uf2f60f26-8662-5e36-8e82-68e7651482df)
CHAPTER TWO (#u1cc8c439-8763-561b-b2cd-44df0ab2295e)
CHAPTER THREE (#u93d535cd-98d2-5d96-81d3-63e46874569a)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u86419d5e-be8f-5b09-9abf-dd717332317b)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
EXCERPT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
IF PRACTICE DID, as they claimed, make perfect, then Anna’s smile would be delivering just the right mixture of cool, collected confidence and deference. Beneath her neatly buttoned pink tweed jacket, however, her heart was thudding so hard that she had an image of it battering its way through her ribcage as she reeled off her opinion of the recent changes in the primary school curriculum.
Her heart stayed in place and, speaking with the appropriate level of confidence, she held her audience’s attention—or behind their intent looks were they actually planning their evening meals?
Anna lifted her chin and pushed away the doubts. She told herself to relax, and if she messed up? Well, it was only a job. Only a job? Who was she kidding?
The philosophical attitude might fool the rest of the world but this was not just any job for Anna—a fact she had realised when her two interview dates had clashed. The choice seemed simple, between a highly regarded local school within walking distance of her flat, where it had been hinted, strictly off the record, that she was a very strong candidate, or the post at a remote school on the north-west coast of Scotland—a job she wouldn’t have even applied for had she not seen that article in the dentist’s waiting room.
Clearly a no-brainer, and yet here she was desiring this job more than she had wanted anything in a long time.
‘Of course, we all want young people to turn into rounded individuals but discipline is important, don’t you think, Miss Henderson?’
Anna tipped her head and nodded gravely. ‘Of course.’ She focused on the thin woman at the far end of the line-up who had posed the question before including the rest of the panel. ‘But I think in an atmosphere where every child feels valued and is encouraged to reach their potential, discipline is rarely a problem. At least that has been my experience in the classroom.’
The balding man sitting to her right glanced down at the paper in front of him.
‘And this experience has been almost exclusively in city schools?’ A significant glance and wry smile was shared with his panel members. ‘A crofting community like this one is not exactly what you have been used to, is it?’
Anna, who had been anticipating this question, relaxed and nodded. Her friends and family had already voiced the same opinion, only not so tactfully, implying that she’d lose the will to live within a month in this cultural desert! Ironically the only people who hadn’t offered a negative opinion had been the ones who probably hated the idea more than anyone else.
If Aunt Jane and Uncle George, whose only daughter had recently made her home in Canada, had thrown up their hands in horror at the prospect of the niece they had always treated like a second daughter leaving too, it would have been understandable but, no, the couple had remained their normal, quietly supportive selves.
‘True but...’
A page was turned and bushy brows lifted. ‘It says here you have a good working knowledge of Gaelic?’
‘I’m rusty, but until I was eight I lived on Harris. My dad was a vet. I only moved to London after my parents’ death.’ Anna had no memory of the horrific accident that she had escaped totally unscathed. People had called it a miracle but Anna thought miracles were kinder. ‘So working and living in the Highlands would be returning to my roots, something I have always wanted to do.’
This conviction that her life, if not her frozen heart, belonged in the Highlands had made her ignore advice and push ahead with her application for the post of head teacher at this tiny primary school in an isolated but beautiful part of the Scottish north-west coast.
This was not a knee-jerk reaction to her ex, Mark, or the near-miss wedding and she was most definitely not running away!
Teeth gritted, she pushed away the thought and lifted her chin. Mark, who she had never persuaded to take a holiday anywhere without sun and sand let alone north of the border, would have been bewildered by her choice but his bewilderment was no longer a factor. She was a free agent and she wished him and his underwear model all the happiness they both richly deserved, and if that involved the stick thin blonde gaining a hundred pounds all the better! Anna might not be heartbroken or devastated—she had seen devastated and had taken active steps to avoid it—but she was human.
She’d show the doubters that she could do it, but she had to get the job first. Shaking off her doubts, she focused on staying positive, desperately hoping it was enough to convince the panel to give her a chance.
So far, so good. Was this sliver of optimism inviting fate to cut her down to size? Anna blinked away the thought and focused on the question being asked, determined not to blow it now when it was going so well. She was not, as she had half expected, simply there to make up the numbers. Instead it was wide open: she really had a shot here.
It was going well.
Very well, she corrected mentally as the chairman of the panel leaned back in his seat and looked at her over his half-rimmed spectacles and produced his first smile.
‘Well, Miss Henderson, thank you very much for coming today. Is there anything you’d like to ask us?’
Anna, who had compiled a list of intelligent and practical questions for this moment, found herself shaking her head.
‘Then if you’d like to wait in the staff room we won’t keep you in suspense long, but I think I can speak for us all when I say that you have impressed—’
Anna, who had got to her feet and smoothed down her skirt, stifled a frustrated sigh as after a short knock the door to her left opened, causing the interviewer to leave this promising sentence incomplete. A moment later it was not the cold air from the draughty corridor that made her gasp but the person who entered the room.
He had to be used to gasps, looking as he did. He was something special.
Early thirties? Several inches over six feet, lean, broad shoulders, endless long legs, athletically muscular and absolutely stunningly gorgeous! Possessing a wide, sensually moulded mouth, dark, thickly lashed heavily lidded eyes, and the sort of strong, chiselled features that a Greek statue would have envied, the new arrival ticked every box on Anna’s personal list of attributes required of dark brooding hero, from the top of his dark, tousled, damp head to his mud splashed shoes.
Past the static buzz in her head, Anna registered the vibrant timbre of his deep voice but not what he said to the members of the panel—not the words maybe, but she did get the aura of raw masculinity he projected. It would have been hard not to!
Along with sex, he literally exuded authority from every perfect pore. Was it possible that this identikit Hollywood action-hero figure was the missing interview panel member whose absence had been apologised for?
Anna hadn’t given the no-show another thought, but if this was him she could see that his tardiness had been a stroke of luck for her, given the fact she was struggling and failing to hold his gaze without falling victim to a deep, very un-head-teacher-like blush, and shamefully the heat was not confined to her previously pale cheeks! The chances that she would have been able to manage an entire interview without doing something mortifying were slim. It was all very disturbing, possibly due to the accumulated stress of an interview on top of the long journey north. Whatever its cause, she had never in her life experienced a physical reaction like this to a man before—even her scalp was tingling.
Mortified and bemused by her reaction, she clasped her clammy hands together in a grip that turned her knuckles white as she struggled to control this over-the-top reaction. Then he was looking away, thank goodness. Anna shook her head to clear the shivering a moment later, a response to the touch of the dark eyes that brushed her face again. She had never stepped off a high cliff into velvety pitch darkness but she was pretty sure that if she did it would feel this way!
The intense, narrow-eyed stare was not intended to make the recipient feel warm and fluffy, that was for sure. For a moment she thought she had glimpsed a flicker of recognition in those steel-grey depths, but then it was gone and she was valiantly struggling to regain some of her shattered composure when the chairman of the interview panel, a local councillor, made the necessary introductions.
‘Cesare, this is Miss Henderson, our last, though in no way least, candidate.’
The smile sent Anna’s way was warm with approval.
‘There are tea and biscuits in the office. Mrs Sinclair will look after you.’ The chairman stepped to one side to allow Anna access to the door and turned his head to address his next comment to the tall man with the Italian-sounding name and the glowing olive-toned complexion. ‘Miss Henderson was just leaving us for a moment while we—’
The speculation buzzing in Anna’s head was louder than the flock of seagulls outside.
Cesare—the name was as un-British as his looks if you discounted the spookily pale silver-grey eyes. So what was his story?
The answer was not long coming, or at least part of it.
‘Miss Henderson, this is Cesare Urquart. He is the reason the school enjoys the connections with local businesses you were so complimentary about.’
Anna was so flustered she barely recalled her name, let alone the comment she had made earlier.
‘Mr Urquart.’ Relieved she sounded relatively sane despite her temporary but dramatic hormone imbalance, Anna tipped her head back and in the process found herself on the receiving end of a penetrating and distinctly chilly stare.
‘Anna was also very impressed by our green credentials.’ The older man appeared oblivious to the weird undercurrents—did that mean it was all in her head?
Her hand on the door handle, she paused as he added, ‘It is thanks to Cesare’s generosity and foresight that the school not only produces enough electricity for itself but sells it back to the grid. There was talk at one point of the school closing like so many other small schools before Cesare took a personal interest.’
There was a pause, and Anna knew a response was expected. So she nodded and made an admiring noise in the back of her throat, but would it kill the man to smile?
‘I have a personal interest.’
The woman on the panel spoke up. ‘And how is little Jasmine? We have all missed her, Killaran.’
‘Bored.’
So rich and influential Mr Urquart—or Killaran?—appeared to be a parent. Presumably with the child came a wife and mother who was his glamorous female equivalent? Rich incomers who had bought their way into the hearts of the locals? Her cynicism allowed room for the possibility their motives might be totally altruistic. Either way she knew there were many small schools under threat of closure who would have envied the village their rich benefactor. It was just sad that they needed one.
‘Miss Henderson.’ Cesare Urquart took a step her way and her grip on the door handle tightened. She was forced to tilt her head back to meet his eyes and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other feeling more like an errant schoolgirl than a prospective headmistress. ‘I must apologise for my late arrival.’
He didn’t sound sorry, and the smile that he gave did not reach his spectacular eyes. Anna was receiving the strong unspoken message that this disturbingly handsome man did not like her. Fair enough, she didn’t particularly like him. She returned his smile with one of equal insincerity. She might not have been as good an actor as he was because she saw a flash in his eyes before she brought her lashes down in a protective shield.
‘You have no objection if I ask you a little about yourself?’ he asked. Like wrecked any marriages recently?
Of course he knew the answer. Women like her rarely changed; they sailed through life leaving a trail of destruction in their selfish wake.
‘Of course not,’ Anna lied as Cesare Urquart shrugged off the dark cashmere overcoat he wore to reveal an elegant grey suit and a body that appeared to consist of solid muscle. She was shocked to feel desire clutch low in her belly and averted her shamed stare, focusing hard on her steepled fingers pressed together until her knuckles went white.
She had to get a grip—the atmosphere had definitely changed.
Cesare had walked into the room, seen a beautiful woman and felt a visceral stab of attraction that hadn’t diminished even after he had recognised her and experienced a deluge of outraged anger. Anger so extreme that he had literally been a reckless breath away from confronting her right there, outing her in front of the panel.
Fortunately the shock had flattened out, though not the testosterone-fuelled heat in his belly. Hormones were indiscriminate things; however, he was not. He had not allowed his hormones to rule him since he was a schoolboy.
He firmly believed a man could not be in control of any situation unless he was in control of himself. Cesare liked to be in control.
Like any other situation, this one needed a cool, analytical approach. When he applied this rule two things were clear to him: she was the last woman on the planet equipped with the moral authority to be a head teacher, and she had won over the interview panel.
And to be fair, had he been meeting her for the first time, even with his razor-sharp instincts for reading people, he might not have guessed that a first-class immoral bitch hid behind the angelic face. Even given his insider knowledge it was a struggle to reconcile what he knew her to be capable of with the guileless, quite disturbingly direct bright blue stare.
He did not allow the seeds of doubt to take hold; neither did he doubt his ability to convince the other panel members, help them see beyond the sexy librarian suit and the smile, that she was the wrong person for the job. He would be totally impartial while he gave her the chance to prove it for him.
As he took his seat behind the long table his attention was drawn to the gleaming top of her head. On the occasion when he had last seen her his attention had been captured, not by this woman’s colouring, but what she had been doing, namely publicly devouring the face of his married best friend!
Even with his attention on other things, under the subdued lights of the restaurant her hair, cut into a sleek jaw-length style, had been definably auburn. But under the harsh, unforgiving electric light of this room, grown long enough now to twist into a neat knot that revealed the long, smooth curve of her throat, it shone as bright as flame, rich, dramatic, glossy copper interwoven with threads of bright gold.
Paul always had had a thing for redheads—some had even been natural—but he had married a blonde and despite this woman’s attempts to wreck that marriage he still was.
Cesare continued to study the face of the woman who had almost cost his friend his marriage and felt desire as indiscriminate as it was strong twist in his belly.
He could recognise his response, see it for what it was: a primal male reaction to a beautiful woman. Paul hadn’t, but then his friend always had been a hopeless romantic, frequently making the classic mistake of confusing sex with love.
The night in question Paul had followed him out of the restaurant, catching him up as he was about to get in his car. ‘It isn’t what you think.’
Cesare had not responded to his friend’s breathless opening statement. It was not his place to give the approval Paul clearly sought, though why a grown man would need it mystified Cesare.
‘You won’t say anything to Clare? All right, sorry, sorry, I know you wouldn’t.’
Slamming the door of his car, Cesare had turned back to his friend... How could an intelligent man be so stupid? ‘Someone will tell her, though—you must see that. You were hardly being discreet.’
‘I know, I know, but it’s Rosie’s birthday and I wanted to take her somewhere nice. She’s incredible and so beautiful...’
It appeared not to have occurred to Paul that it would suit his mistress if his wife found out and Paul was pushed to make a choice. She must be very confident, Cesare realised.
Backed up against his car, Cesare had adopted a folded-arm stance. It cut down on the temptation to grab his friend by the throat and demand to know what the hell he thought he was playing at, while Paul had given in to the need to unburden himself.
The less Cesare had said, the more Paul had confided in way too much detail. Reading between the lines a picture did emerge and it was a pattern Cesare recognised only too well.
The woman didn’t just know what she was doing in the bedroom—again too much detail—she knew how to manipulate a man by recognising his weaknesses. She had flattered Paul, appealed to his vanity and managed to cleverly awaken his protective instincts.
Cesare was sure that this was a technique she would refine over the years, perhaps becoming as skilled as his own mother, who he had watched work her way across Europe leaving a trail of broken-hearted men in her wake.
‘What would you do if you were me?’
The appeal had irritated Cesare, who could not by any stretch of the imagination imagine himself in a similar situation. For starters he had no plans to marry—ever—but he could see that marriage suited some men and Paul was one of them.
‘I am not you. I thought you and Clare were happy.’
‘We are.’
‘And you love her?’
‘I love them both, of course I do, but Rosie is so...She needs me. If I finished with her it would kill her. She loves me!’
Cesare, who had no taste for drama, had taken this statement with a pinch of salt. His indifference to the feelings or threats of a woman who had embarked on an affair with a married man remained, but, recalling that he had only just resisted the impulse to tell his friend to grow a pair, Cesare felt a stab of guilt.
It was easy to be contemptuous when you hadn’t been close enough to feel the sensuality this woman projected. Her mouth was nothing short of sinful. The full pink curves promising passion to those lucky enough to taste them. As his sympathy for his friend grew so did his distaste for this woman who used her sensuality as a weapon.
‘I will not keep you long, Miss Henderson. Would you like to take a seat?’
As no was not an option Anna did so, very aware of the critical, unfriendly eyes that followed her every move.
‘Miss Henderson travelled up last night on the sleeper train. She must be tired,’ the fatherly local councillor remarked before retaking his seat.
‘You are seeing us at our best. The winter is a long one.’
The inference being presumably that she’d burst into tears at the sight of a snowflake. This from someone who looked as if he’d seen a hell of a lot more sun than she had. And an incomer to boot!
‘Have you lived here long, Mr Urquart?’
Anna was aware of amused glances passing between the other members of the panel. What had she said that was so funny?
‘All my life.’
It was the woman on the panel who explained the joke. ‘The Urquarts of Killaran have historically been generous benefactors to the community and Cesare makes time in his crowded schedule to act as a school governor.’
Anna watched under the shield of her lashes as he sketched a quick smile; he was hard not to watch. His voice too was memorable, deep and velvety with a hint of gravel but no sign of a Highland lilt despite all this Urquart of Killaran stuff. Did that make him a laird or something? It would explain his warm reception, though such a thing as a laird, especially one who looked more like her private image of a pirate, seemed wildly anachronistic to Anna.
What would he look like in a kilt? She managed to swallow the inappropriate giggle produced by the equally inappropriate thought and lowered her lashes.
Always assuming her instincts were right and she had the job, did that mean she’d be working closely with him?
The thought made her heart beat even faster. With luck he kept his involvement to cheque book.
She struggled not to flinch as his attention swivelled back to her. The recognition she had thought she’d glimpsed initially was gone, replaced by a flat look that she could not read. Even so, she felt her anxiety levels climb—as it turned out with good reason!
‘So tell me how long have you been teaching?’
‘Five, no four...’
His intense gaze brought a rush of colour to her cheeks, one of the curses of her red-haired complexion. She managed to retain a semblance of what she hoped came across as headmistress-style gravity as she tipped her head. ‘Five and a half years.’
Cesare Urquart, his elbows on the table, leaned forward across the table towards her. The undercurrent swirling behind his smooth smile made Anna feel a lot like Little Red Riding Hood. The man made your average wolf seem benevolent.
‘Let me give you a hypothetical situation, Miss Henderson.’
Anna smiled back and nodded. Bring it on.
CHAPTER TWO
PRIDE ALONE KEPT Anna’s shoulders straight and her head high as she left the room, pausing to nod and murmur a thank you to the panel members. Pride, and a grim teeth-clenching determination not to give Cesare Urquart the pleasure of seeing her crumble.
He didn’t avoid her eyes or attempt to hide the smug smile with the hint of chilling cruelty that pulled the corners of his sensually sculpted mouth upwards. His complacent expression said job well done. The other panel members remained silent, none met her eyes, which was probably just as well as a word of kindness and she would have fallen apart.
‘I’ll call you a taxi.’
This offer definitely wasn’t a kindness so Anna was able to hold it together as she met the stare of her tormentor. Hold it together but not conceal the bewildered hurt in her blue eyes.
He was the first to lower his gaze, his dark, preposterously long spiky lashes casting a shadow along the razor-sharp edge of his chiselled cheekbones as he picked up his pen, twirling it between long brown fingers before he scribbled something on the sheet of paper that lay on the table, drawing a line figuratively and literally through her name, she speculated bitterly.
Why had he done it?
Just because he could?
Why had she let him?
In the corridor her courage deserted her and Anna slumped like a puppet whose strings had been cut, clutching her head. She had the beginning of a first-class migraine. She leaned heavily against the wall feeling the cold of the ugly green tiles through her thin jacket.
Her coat lay folded across the chair in the room she had just left, but pneumonia was an infinitely more attractive option than going back for it.
The loud tick of the clock on the wall opposite brought her dazed glance to the large clock. Her eyes widened. It had only been five minutes since she had stood there on the brink of being offered her dream job. It had taken Cesare Urquart less than five minutes to make her appear an incompetent idiot.
Five minutes to reduce her to a stuttering level of incompetence, and she had let him! With a grimace of self-disgust, she straightened up and began to walk down the corridor, her heels beating out an angry tattoo.
The taxi was waiting for her outside. As she slid inside she could think of any number of responses to his seemingly innocent questions. He’d led her to the edge of a hole but she’d jumped in. And he’d enjoyed it!
A person who stubbornly clung to the belief that people were basically good, Anna didn’t want to believe that he’d taken pleasure from her distress. But it was true, and probably the worst part of it was the knowledge that behind the bland and beautiful mask he had enjoyed watching her stutter and stumble. It had been clinical and cruel.
She looked at her hands. They were shaking. She made a decision. They’d arrived at her hotel.
‘Do you mind waiting?’ There was no way she was safe to drive her hire car the forty miles back to Inverness. She didn’t actually care what the taxi there cost her: it would be worth it not to stay another second.
Having reassured the car-hire firm she would be happy to pay the supplementary charge for them to pick up the car, Anna packed her bag in about thirty seconds. She was booked into the hotel overlooking the picturesque working harbour for two nights, but the view had lost its charm, as had the Highlands.
The thought of all things familiar and safe made her chest ache with longing. Everyone had been right. Moving up here had been a stupid idea, not because, as Rosie had suggested, there were no men—that was fine by Anna—but because there was one man. A man she could not even think about without wanting to break things. His head would be a good start.
She climbed back into the taxi. She fastened her seat belt and closed the door with a restrained bang. ‘Inverness station, please.’
Anna was actually in her seat on the train when all passengers were asked to disembark. No trains were running on the line between Inverness and Glasgow due to flooding and stormy weather further down the line.
‘Hail the size of golf balls, they say.’
Those passengers who requested details of bus times were told that bus drivers too were not risking the journey.
Anna normally maintained a philosophical frame of mind when events were out of her control, but if ever there was a day to respond with anger and frustration this was it.
Could this day get any worse?
Of course it could. This was the day that just kept giving and the man who just kept appearing. Twice was not a lot but it felt like more.
The gleaming car Cesare Urquart stood beside did not suggest he came under the category of traditional impoverished laird. It did not come as a surprise to Anna that having money would be the way he got away with being so totally obnoxious.
Human nature being what it was, people were prepared to put up with a lot from people who held the purse strings and the power. And what Cesare had done to her was a classic case of an abuse of power. It was inexplicable to Anna, who hated to see anyone unhappy, that a person could take such malicious pleasure out of causing someone pain, presumably just because he could.
Yet it had felt personal, very personal. That continued to bemuse her; if the man hadn’t been a total stranger she’d have felt the interview had been payback of some sort. Perhaps, she brooded bitterly, he took offence to redheads, who in her opinion got a bad press. Her temper was no fierier than anyone else’s. She pressed her fingers to her drumming temples. She actually considered herself to have quite a placid personality.
As was appropriate, Cesare had paused to congratulate the successful candidate after the interviews finished. The choice had not seemed difficult to him yet some of the panel had agonised over it and in the end the final decision had not been unanimous, even after a few probing questions where the redhead had become almost incoherent.
An image of those big, hurt, cobalt-blue eyes formed in his head and he firmly pushed it away. He was sure that the formula had been working all of her life. One look at those expressive eyes...a suggestion of tears bravely blinked away while she channelled inner integrity...had made his jaw tighten. The panel members, who had still stood by their original choice, would have been less disgruntled if they knew what he knew about Miss Henderson.
‘So you think it’s a good idea to build an office block on the lawn after we’ve bulldozed the—’
Cesare turned his attention to his sister. ‘Fine...fine...’
Her musical laughter drew several stares but then his model sister generally did draw stares.
‘What?’ he asked irritably.
‘You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said.’
He flashed her an impatient glance and opened the passenger door. ‘Just get in, will you?’
Her delicate brows lifted. ‘You’re in a foul mood, I get that, but don’t take it out on me, big brother,’ she advised.
Cesare scowled at the suggestion and bit back. ‘I am not in a foul mood.’ His conscience was clear when the welfare of impressionable children was at stake. You didn’t give anyone the benefit of the doubt and there was no doubt.
This time his sister’s laughter was drowned out by another loudspeaker announcement explaining once more that, due to flooding on the line, the Edinburgh trains were cancelled. Not good news for the stranded passengers who had began to troop with varying degrees of resignation from the station.
‘Lucky I decided to catch the early train,’ Angel observed.
* * *
In her thin jacket Anna shivered, her throat tightened until she could hardly breathe. The booming noise in her head got louder and louder as she continued to stare at him, standing there as if he owned the place, not getting out of the way because he expected other people to...and they did. He was getting in the way and they were apologising for bumping into him.
And she’d done the same, though in her case it was not just walk around him—she’d let him walk all over her! She had just sat there and taken what he’d dished out during that interview. It was not her finest hour.
If she’d told him what she thought of him she knew she wouldn’t be feeling this awful, instead she felt...
‘Pathetic!’ she exclaimed to the world in general.
‘Are you all right, dear?’
Responding with a forced smile and an embarrassed laugh for the benefit of the concerned elderly couple who had approached her, Anna nodded and lied. ‘Yes, fine, I’m...’
Her voice trailed away and her smile vanished as a tall, hateful figure placed a hand on his beautiful companion’s elbow.
She inhaled and squeezed her eyes closed. Now was her chance to tell him what she really thought of him. She nodded to the couple, lifted her stuffed overnight bag and propelled herself through the crowds.
‘I expected you to bring Jas. Is she all right?’
As his sister looked around as though expecting her daughter to materialise, Cesare opened the passenger door. ‘She’s fine,’ he soothed. ‘I came straight from the school interviews for the new head.’
‘Many candidates?’ Angel glanced down at the file that lay open on the passenger seat and paused, glancing down at the name on the front page. ‘More than one, I hope.’
‘More than one,’ her brother agreed. Snatching the CV from her fingers, he flung it onto the back seat, consigning it and the person who had supplied it to a dark corner.
His sister made no attempt to get in the car. She was studying his face. ‘You look strange. Are you sure Jas is all right—nothing’s happened?’
‘A man could be excused for thinking you don’t think he’s capable of looking after a five-year-old.’ Despite his comment Cesare didn’t take her anxiety personally. He knew how hard it was for his sister to delegate any responsibility where her daughter was concerned, and he also knew he was a poor substitute for her absentee nanny who had broken her leg. Fortunately the injury would not put her out of action for as long as his niece had been with the painful hip complaint, Perthes, that had confined her to bed rest for weeks.
‘I know Jas is a full-time job and she can twist you around her little finger. How did the physio go this week? Did she play up? I hope you remembered—’
His sister’s voice faded as among the stream of frustrated travellers streaming out of the station, one caught his eye.
The amazing copper-coloured hair made her stand out like a flash of colour in a monochrome picture. Her blue eyes fixed on his face and she was heading his way like some sort of petite avenging angel. All the image lacked was a blazing sword, which was just as well because she looked as if she’d happily have skewered him if she’d had anything sharp to hand.
Conscious of a buzz of anticipation, he waited. He had not sought this encounter but he was not going to avoid it. As she got closer he felt the faint nagging guilt that he had been unwilling to acknowledge dissolve. The woman approaching was not the defeated, dejected figure who more resembled a mistreated kitten than a seasoned seductress. This was a sexy, smouldering redhead who moved with supple feline grace. The woman who would have caused havoc in the small community.
The muscles along his jaw tightened as she turned to heave the bag she was half dragging onto her shoulder, giving him an excellent, if fleeting, view of her taut, rounded behind. If he had needed proof of the walking danger she represented to men it was provided by the scorching flash of heat that sizzled through his own body to settle in his groin. If running true to form she would have worked her way through the married men in the area in a couple of months!
‘Someone you know?’ Angel murmured, looking curiously from her brother, who had frozen to the spot, to the slim, flame-haired figure approaching them as fast as the bag she was lugging would allow.
‘Stay out of this, Angel.’
Anna, close enough to hear this terse aside, didn’t know who she felt more scornful towards. Him, for speaking that way, or the woman for tolerating it.
Anna’s glance slid over Cesare Urquart’s predictably glamorous companion, a tall, utterly stunning brunette, made taller by the crazy spiky heels she was wearing, which she’d teamed with a retro-styled tea dress and a leather biker jacket. A challenging combination that she managed to carry off with style.
Pulling herself up to her full five feet three, Anna halted and, breathing hard, levelled an accusing finger at Cesare’s broad chest. She was struggling to articulate her fury, so she stuttered. ‘Y-you!’
His right eyebrow hitched a little higher as he tipped his head. ‘Miss Henderson?’
Previously his hostility had been masked, now it was overt. Her inarticulate fury gave way to bewilderment.
‘Look, you’re a bully, I get that, but what I would like to know is why?’
‘You are a bad loser, Miss Henderson.’
She lifted her chin and declared proudly, ‘But an excellent teacher.’
The furrow between his brows deepened as she wrapped her arms around herself, but carried on shivering.
‘Why have you not got a coat on?’ he demanded irritably.
The question briefly threw Anna off her stride. ‘I lost it,’ she snarled through gritted teeth.
‘Why?’ she repeated, her militant attitude giving way to genuine confusion. It was utterly impossible for soft-hearted Anna, who would not have deliberately set out to injure her worst enemy, let alone a total stranger, to understand how or why someone would do what he had.
‘It was my job to ensure that the school has the best possible head, and you were simply not up to the job.’ He curved his fingers around the beautiful brunette’s elbow. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’
The dismissal relit the smouldering flames of Anna’s fury. ‘No, I won’t!’ she cried, catching his arm.
He swung back, his metallic stare conveying astonishment before it moved with significance to the small white hand against his sleeve.
Anna’s hand fell self-consciously away, her nerve endings still retaining the impression of hard muscle even after she rubbed her hand against her thigh. ‘There is something else—I know there is.’
He arched a sardonic brow. ‘Beyond your incompetence?’
‘The others thought I was competent. I am competent,’ she qualified angrily as her fingers itched to slap the contemptuous smile off his hatefully perfect face. ‘Until you arrived, the panel thought I was the right person for the job.’
His lip curled. ‘On paper you looked an adequate candidate.’
The comment sent his sister’s interested glance to the file her brother had flung onto the back seat.
‘Adequate?’ Anna growled.
Cesare dragged his gaze up from the full pouting curve of her lush lips, where it kept sliding. ‘I am sure you are accustomed to smiling and getting your own way. Being born beautiful does not grant you special privileges in life, Miss Henderson.’
Anna blinked. Beautiful? She half expected to see sarcasm in his stare, but she saw only anger and something she struggled to put a name to. The indefinable dark something made her stomach muscles quiver.
She wasn’t beautiful.
‘For a moment I thought you were Rosie.’
Anna had lost count of the number of times she had heard that comment while she was growing up and she understood it: her older cousin, whom she admired and loved, was beautiful.
It was a subtle thing, beauty. She was Rosanna, though she much preferred to be called Anna. She had freckles, with a not quite straight nose and a mouth that was too wide. She was okay-looking whereas Rosemary was stunning. Her cousin could have had any man; instead she had fallen for the creep who had very nearly ruined her life.
‘If anyone here is privileged...’ She gave a scornful hoot of laughter. ‘You know what I think? I think you like to prove what a big man you are because you’re not—what you are is a bully, a pathetic bully.’ He looked so astonished she almost laughed. ‘What do you do as an encore? Kick puppies?’
‘I hardly think the analogy is apt, Miss Henderson.’ Not a puppy, but there was definitely something feline about this sexy red-headed witch.
She gave a cranky grunt and snarled through clenched teeth, ‘Will you stop calling me that?’
‘Would you prefer Rosie?’
She blinked. It was weird to hear this man call her by her cousin’s diminutive. ‘My name is Rosanna.’ It didn’t really matter what he called her because he’d always manage to make it sound like an insult. ‘My friends.’ She gulped, suddenly feeling very far away from those friends. ‘They call me A-Anna.’
Was this display of quivering bravery meant to make him feel guilty? ‘Have you ever heard the phrase what goes around comes around, Miss Henderson?’
‘If that were true something large would fall from the sky and hit you on your fat, self-important head!’
The snort of laughter drew Anna’s attention to the beautiful brunette, who rather unexpectedly grinned at her in an encouraging way and gave a thumbs-up sign.
Cesare flashed his sister a look without having any real expectation of it having any effect, then returned his attention to the slim redhead who, when she wasn’t abusing him, was playing for the sympathy vote.
‘Do you mind lowering your voice?’
She adopted a puzzled expression. ‘Why? It can’t be a secret you’re a cold-hearted bully.’
His silver-grey eyes narrowed to slits at the jibe. ‘We can trade insults if you wish.’ His smile suggested he thought he’d come off better in this exchange. ‘What do you call a woman who targets married men?’
Anna’s jaw dropped. ‘What?’
‘Paul Dane is a good friend of mine.’
The name caused the blood to drain out of Anna’s face, leaving her marble pale as the day’s events clicked into place. Suddenly it all made sickening sense. This man thought she was Rosie!
‘Suddenly you have less to say.’
Her eyes blinked wide open. Not, as he anticipated, filled with the shame of discovery, but angry. Sparkling like blue sapphires. His contemptuous smile faded as a furrow formed between his darkly defined brows.
Of course, this man and Paul Dane were friends. ‘A marriage made in heaven,’ she murmured.
‘Paul’s marriage is still strong, despite your efforts to end it.’
‘My efforts?’ She shook her head, her chest dramatically lifting as she struggled to control her feelings. ‘Sorry, did I get that right? You think your friend Paul is some sort of a victim?’ Anna began to laugh, her anger growing cold. It had taken her cousin a very long time to recover from the affair with the married man who had broken her heart. Rosie, whose only sin had been that she was too loving and trusting, that she followed her heart.
And she was brave too. A lesser person would have been destroyed by what had happened, but not Rosie. Anna’s admiration for her gutsy cousin was tinged with worry. Yes, Rosie had found her happy-ever-after scenario, but following her heart could just as easily have led to another heartbreak, another Paul Dane.
Rosie had taken the risk but even the thought of following her example was enough to send a ripple of horror through Anna. The nightmares of the night she had discovered her cousin semi-conscious beside a half-empty bottle of pills and a bottle of booze were less frequent now, but they still came. If one positive thing had come from that experience it was the knowledge that she would never allow her heart to rule her head.
Her expression sobered as she angled a scorn-filled look up at his dark lean face. So certain, so superior! She gave a snort of disgust. ‘Stupid question, of course you do.’
‘Paul was not without blame,’ he conceded, slinging her an impatient look.
‘Big of you to say so.’ She tilted her head back to direct a contemptuous look at his face. ‘This is how I know it to be. A man, a married man who seduces an inexperienced, starry-eyed girl ten years his junior, a man who tells her he loves her and is going to leave his wife for her.’
Too furious to consider her words, she gave a bitter laugh and added, ‘Yes, the girl knows she is doing wrong.’ An image of Rosie’s tear-stained face as she clutched that bottle of pills flashed into Anna’s head as she relived that awful moment.
‘But she does it anyway,’ Anna finished in a voice husky with emotion. ‘She lies to her family and when he dumps her and goes back to his wife she thinks her life is over. I’m not sure what I’d call a man like that but it sure as hell wouldn’t be victim!’
At least she had stopped short of revealing the whole story. Even so, Anna immediately felt guilty and disloyal. She had promised Rosie never to reveal what she knew to anyone, it was a promise that up to this point she had honoured.
The only comfort was that this man thought she was the person who had fallen victim to his friend and while she hated being thought of as this naïve victim, it was preferable to having this man sneer at Rosie, judge her.
Let him think what he liked about her. Anna was more than willing to take one for the team if it meant protecting Rosie from his sneers and accusations.
Her passion caused the permanent indentation between Cesare’s ebony brows to form into a V of doubt, which quickly smoothed. He resented the fact that this woman had made him even briefly doubt a man who had literally saved his life. He realised that she’d probably told this version of events so often that she believed it. A lot easier to believe a lie than admit you’d targeted a married man and relentlessly pursued him.
While Cesare didn’t consider himself intolerant of weakness—he had enough of his own—when it came to the subject of fidelity within marriage there were no grey areas. It was simple: you stayed faithful or you didn’t exchange vows you were not able to keep. This was the reason that he did not plan to take the marriage route. Loving the same woman for a lifetime or even a year? Impossible. Lying was a strong word even when the lie in question was directed to yourself. Did people, intelligent people, really believe it?
He gave a mental shrug. Maybe he was just wired differently? But for his money the existence of the Easter Bunny was easier to buy into than this soul-mate stuff. Sure, you grew comfortable over the years but who wanted to be comfortable when you could have passion and fire?
However, if you went down the marriage route, straying was not an option. It was true that Paul had not behaved well, but at least he’d come to his senses in time to save his marriage. Basically, Paul was one of life’s good guys, capable of selfless acts. If he hadn’t been Cesare knew he wouldn’t be standing here now—Paul’s selfless act had saved his skin.
‘Get in the car, Angel,’ he snapped at his companion before turning on his heel and presenting Anna with his broad-shouldered back.
Infuriated by the dismissal, Anna surged forward. The hasty action took her close to the edge of the pavement just as a bus drove by, depositing the contents of a deep puddle down the front of her suit.
‘He didn’t even slow down,’ she wailed, looking from her dripping muddied front to the bus that was picking up speed as it continued down the road.
Just before he slid into the high-powered car beside his beautiful companion, Cesare Urquart turned his head. He didn’t say a word, just looked her up and down and then smiled. Hateful, hateful man!
CHAPTER THREE
ANGEL SMOOTHED THE pages she had retrieved from the back seat. ‘So that was Miss Henderson?’ She tapped the typed name on the page before flashing a look at her brother. ‘I take it she didn’t get the job? Pity—anyone that gives as good as she gets with you might be just what we need.’
‘That is private, Angel,’ her brother snarled.
Angel read one of the attached references. ‘It says here she has a natural empathy with children and she’s—’
Cesare, making an effort to slow his breathing, interrupted irritably. ‘Yeah, I know, she’s perfect.’
A thoughtful expression crossed his sister’s face. ‘You know, I think she might be...’
‘Put that down, Angel.’ He clenched his teeth as his sister predictably tuned him out and turned another page.
‘I’m curious,’ she admitted, still skimming the page. ‘Who was better than her?’
‘Paper qualifications are all well and good.’
‘You mean she’s another one of Paul’s victims.’
‘What the hell do you mean by “another”?’
‘I mean if you’ve got a blind spot it comes to that man. Don’t look like that. I love Paul, he’s a total charmer but, let’s face it he’s—’
Without warning Cesare pulled the car to the side of the road, drawing a startled gasp from his sister.
‘Are you trying to tell me he made a pass at you?’
Reassured by his sister’s peal of laughter enough to start breathing again, he released a deep sigh and turned the engine back on.
They had travelled a silent mile before Angel voiced the question she already knew the answer to. ‘And if he had?’
‘I’d kill him,’ Cesare informed her, with a total lack of emotion.
His response told Angel nothing she didn’t already know. ‘So saving your life makes it all right for him to mess with the—’ she wafted the printed CV his way ‘—Miss Hendersons of the world, but not your sister?’
‘Shut up, Angel.’
Smiling, she licked her finger and chalked up an invisible point in the air, drawing an almost smile from her grim-faced brother before she began to read the CV, which described the sort of person who even the most paranoid parent would feel happy about leaving in charge of their child.
* * *
‘Hi...Anna?’
Anna, who was on the point of leaving, turned and saw the beautiful brunette who had been with Cesare Urquart standing in the doorway of the hotel room she had been forced to take for the night. This morning the brunette was wearing jeans tucked into a pair of knee-high boots and a short fur-collared leather jacket, her river-straight, silky, waist-length jet-black hair secured in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Even if Anna hadn’t been having a bad hair day, and she really was, the woman would have made her feel hopelessly inadequate.
‘I don’t think your boyfriend will like it if you’re seen talking to me.’
Angel scowled. ‘I don’t care much what Cesare likes.’
Her brother had not reacted well to her suggestion over breakfast that his attitude to this woman was coloured by their own mother, and even less well when she had said that just because someone saved your life it didn’t mean they were a saint. And when she’d mentioned her totally brilliant idea he had suggested she had lost her mind.
‘And he’s not my boyfriend, he’s my brother.’
Anna’s chin dropped from the defiant angle as her eyes widened. ‘Brother!’ Were the whole family this stunning?
Anna’s shocked exclamation drew a grin.
‘I’d like to say he got the looks and I got the brains but I’d be lying.’ Her expression sobered. ‘But brainy or not, Cesare can be pretty stupid sometimes and he’s pathologically loyal to his friends even the ones who haven’t...’ She broke off, giving the impression of someone biting their tongue. ‘And, of course, sorry doesn’t come easy to him.’
Anna gave an unamused snort. The idea of that hateful man wanting to apologise was a joke. None of this was his sister’s fault so she forced a faint smile, but was unable to bite back her bitter retort. ‘Especially as he’s always right.’
The willowy brunette winced. ‘Ouch! So you are heading back to...London?’
Anna glanced at her watch. The information she’d received advised that passengers should only travel if their journey was strictly necessary because there were still flood warnings, and though some trains were running today there were numerous delays. The likelihood was her journey would take a lot longer than normal. At best, according to her enquiries, the trains were running on average three hours behind schedule.
‘I haven’t much reason to hang around.’
‘I suppose you have plans for your summer break.’
The seemingly casual remark drew a sigh from Anna. Break? Her summer break might end up being longer than she would have liked. Still, she’d done stints of supply teaching before and she could again.
‘Is there something I can help you with, Miss Urquart?’
‘It’s Angel and, yes, there is. When is your train due? Do you have time for a coffee? The place on the corner is actually pretty good.’
Her last phone call to the help line had suggested she had time for a three-course banquet but she shook her head in a negative motion. Despite her refusal she was actually rather intrigued by this woman’s appearance.
‘Sorry.’
‘You’re probably wondering what I want?’
‘I’m curious,’ Anna admitted.
‘I have a daughter.’ She waved her ring hand at Anna. ‘And, no, I’m not married.’
Half the children in her class of thirty in the inner-city school where Anna had worked had come from single-parent backgrounds.
‘And I never have been. Jas...Jasmine is a great kid. I just wish I could spend more time with her. It’s hard juggling.’ The frown on her brow smoothed as she added, ‘I’m luckier than most because my work is more flexible. Normally I keep the holidays free and, of course, Cesare is great but obviously he can’t be here all the time. He’s a victim of his own success.’ She looked at Anna and, after receiving a blank look back, loosed an incredulous laugh. ‘You’ve no idea who he is, do you?’
‘I know what he is...’ Anna gave a shamed grimace and grunted. ‘Sorry, he’s your brother.’
Angel looked amused. ‘Oh, don’t hold back on my account. Cesare can look after himself.’
‘I know your family owns the estate and castle. I suppose that makes him pretty important.’ In his own eyes at least, she thought viciously. ‘Locally.’
‘Sure, the Urquarts have been here for ever, but the estate barely breaks even. It’ll be years before it does despite the money he’s poured in over the last five years. Dad, bless him, was pretty resistant to change and Mum, before she packed her bags, was terribly expensive. Her divorce settlement was pretty extreme. Anyway, I digress. You don’t want to know about the family,’
On the contrary, Anna was eating up every fascinating detail.
‘I take it you’re not a fan of Formula One racing?’ Angel continued.
‘Not my thing.’
Was Cesare some kind of racing-car driver? It figured.
Danger and glamour plus a ridiculous amount of adulation—yes, she could see that suiting him.
‘Well, actually he is what most people would call famous.’ Accustomed to seeing her brother the target of women who had been known to stalk him in packs, Angel was amused that this girl didn’t have a clue who he was.
‘He was champion driver two years running.’ Anna watched a shadow cross the other girl’s beautiful face before she adopted a brisk tone and explained, ‘Obviously that was before the crash, then he moved seamlessly into management and took over team Romero.’
A crash! News reports of crashes always made Anna leave the room or switch channel; now the word made her shudder.
‘Was he...?’ She stopped. Presumably he had been injured, but if he bore any scars Anna hadn’t seen any—not that she had seen that much of him. Without warning an image floated before her eyes—a pretty detailed image.
Wafting cold air on her face with her hand, she cleared her throat more successfully than she cleared her mind of a naked bronzed man. ‘Romero?’ Even she had heard of the famous Italian racing team. ‘So he doesn’t live here?’
‘The team is based in Italy but after Dad died Cesare made the decision to live here. Obviously he travels a lot.’ She grimaced. ‘We both do—pretty ironic considering how we both hated it when we were kids. Our mum got custody after the divorce,’ she explained. ‘And she has what you could call a low boredom threshold—she doesn’t stay in one place for long.’
She flashed Anna a wry smile. ‘So neither did we. When Jas was born I was determined that she had security, stability, a stable home life.’
The implication that she, and presumably her brother, had not enjoyed this sort of childhood was not lost on Anna who felt a stab of sympathy. Not for Cesare, obviously, but for this beautiful young woman. Anna might have been tragically orphaned, not what most people would call a perfect childhood, but after her parents’ death she had been raised in a warm and loving home and treated as much a daughter as Rosie by her aunt and uncle.
‘I always feel guilty when I go away for work but...’ Angel shook her head. ‘I wish now I’d not taken this job. It’s too big a commitment.’ Anna, who had seen that look of guilt on the face of many working mothers trying to juggle childcare, struggled to maintain her detachment. Giving full rein to her empathy had led in the past to Anna being taken advantage of—it wasn’t going to happen again. She’d toughened up. Watching the person you loved most in the whole world having her stomach pumped did that to a person.
‘I hadn’t worked for three months while Jas was ill and in my business people have short memories. You’re only as good as your last assignment. I thought it might be tough to... Well, anyway, when I got offered this Face of Floriel gig I just grabbed it, but then—’ she sighed ‘—not thinking of consequences is the story of my life.’
Anna felt a flash of something close to envy. Had she ever done anything without thinking of consequences? Her caution was probably why everyone had considered it wildly out of character when she had gone for a job outside the city she’d lived in for most of her life.
‘Look, I wish I could help.’ She liked Angel Urquart and she would have liked to help her out.
Do not go there, Anna. Don’t even think it.
‘You can.’
Anna shook her head. ‘You must see that’s impossible. Obviously I’m very sorry your daughter has been ill—’
‘She missed all of last term.’
‘I’m sure she’ll catch up quickly. They do at that age.’ Anna stopped as things suddenly clicked into place in her head.
‘Oh, wow, you’re that model...Angel.’ Minus dramatic make-up, this was the woman with the impossibly perfect body, the woman from the ad campaign advertising lingerie. The images were plastered on the side of every bus in London a year or so ago.
‘Right now I’m the mum Angel and I just know that this will work. And you wouldn’t have to worry about Cesare,’ she cut in quickly. ‘It’s a very big castle. Jas and I have an apartment in the west wing so we’re totally independent. Of course, he’d be there if you needed him.’
Needing Cesare Urquart? ‘I won’t.’
‘Then you’ll do it?’
Anna’s eyes widened in dismay. ‘No, I just meant...Does he...?’ She swallowed, unable to bring herself to say the name of the man. ‘Does your brother know you’re here?’
‘I mentioned it.’
Anna’s lips twisted in a dubious smile. She was not fooled for a second by the casual tone. ‘And he’s willing to run the risk of me contaminating your daughter?’ Anna couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice.
Angel laid her hand on Anna’s shoulder. She was smiling but her narrowed green eyes shone with determination. ‘Cesare is my brother and I owe him a lot, but I’m Jas’s mother and where her welfare is concerned I make the decisions.’
‘But if you work, don’t you already have childcare?’
‘Sure, Jas has a nanny, only poor Jenny came off her bike, broke her leg and won’t be out of her plaster for another six weeks. She’d hobble back to work if I let her, but it’s out of the question.’ She gave a sigh. ‘Look, forget it. This isn’t your problem. I shouldn’t have come, and believe me you’re not the only one who is intimidated by my big brother.’ She fastened the button on her jacket and swept a strand of gleaming dark hair from her face.
‘I’m not intimidated by your brother.’
‘Of course you’re not,’ Angel soothed.
Anna’s jaw tightened. ‘I’ll do it.’
Angel’s smile flashed. She was already fishing a mobile phone from her pocket. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Totally.’
Angel made a call on her mobile.
‘Hi, Hamish. Yes. Bring Jas up.’ She looked at the bag on Anna’s bed. ‘Good, you’re packed,’ she approved. ‘You travel light, but no problem—we can stop on the way and pick up some more things. What size are you—six, eight?’
Anna blinked. ‘Your daughter is here? You expect me to come now?’
Angel looked surprised by the question. ‘Anna, I’m catching my flight at midnight and—’
‘You must have been very sure I’d say yes.’
The woman gave an airy shrug. ‘I’m by nature an optimistic person.’
Anna gave the sleek, stylish brunette a long searching look. Before she could challenge Angel, the door burst open and a small dark-haired figure burst in. Jas Urquart had a shy version of her mother’s smile and a front tooth missing. She was the embodiment of heartbreakingly adorable.
CHAPTER FOUR
HAD SHE BEEN down this corridor before? Anna looked around, trying to decide if the tapestry on the wall looked familiar. She shook her head in defeat; she didn’t have a clue. She kicked herself for not paying more attention.
Instead of looking for landmarks, Anna had been listening to Jasmine’s stream of chatter as the lively little girl had skipped along beside her, relaying some gruesome history, or possibly fantasy—the child clearly had a very lively imagination—of the castle that was her home.
The childish confidences had been liberally littered with her uncle’s name. Based on her experience, Anna would have thought he would feature as an ogre in a child’s life, but no, it was clear that for Jas at least he was something of a hero, endowed, if she was to be believed, with superhuman skills.
Oh, well, I’m sure he’d be the first to agree, Anna thought as her stomach muscles reacted to the image that floated into her head. Eyes as hard and cold as polished steel, a mouth that was cruel. A mouth that was...
She lifted a hand to one warm cheek and, sucking in air through flared nostrils, attempted to banish the image.
‘You’ve done what?’
Had she conjured Cesare up from her fevered imagination? This place was huge—how was it that she couldn’t avoid him, ever?
‘I thought we agreed.’ He was heading towards her, arguing furiously with Angel.
Shaking free of the frozen horror that had nailed her to the spot, Anna stepped back into the shadows. It wasn’t just the three sets of stone steps she had jogged up and down that made her heart pound in her chest as she shamelessly eavesdropped...short of covering her ears, what choice did she have?
When she responded, Angel’s voice did not suggest she was intimidated by the outrage in her brother’s voice; she sounded faintly amused. But mingled with the amusement was a hint of steely determination. Anna’s admiration for her employer went even higher. It took someone with guts to stand up to Cesare Urquart.
‘You talked, I listened and then I asked Anna Henderson to stay until term starts. She can tutor Jas and help her catch up with the work she missed, and be there to care for her when I’m away.’
‘There must be an alternative. I’ll speak to the agency.’
‘Sure, and they’ll send some girl who’ll spend more time flirting with you than taking care of Jas. It’s not your fault you’re eye candy, darling brother, but Anna is perfect. She doesn’t like you.
‘This woman—’
‘Look, Cesare, before you start you have a problem with Anna. I don’t. I know that Paul can do no wrong in your eyes and that’s fine, you can be in his debt for ever if you like, but he’s human and people make mistakes. Just look at me.’
‘This woman is nothing like you.’
‘No. she didn’t get pregnant. It’s daft to assume that it was all her fault. You want to know what I think?’
‘No.’
‘Fine,’ came the easy reply. ‘I have to be away for the next month. It’s not perfect, I know, but then, well, bottom line is, there’s nothing I can do about it, and with Anna—’
‘You don’t have to work.’
‘And you don’t have to be a serial seducer but you are. Sorry, but I’m not about to sponge off my big brother.’
‘There is no question of sponging, Angel.’ Anna could hear the irritation in his voice. She gave a contemptuous grimace. The man had the sensitivity of a brick. He should be admiring his sister for wanting to be independent, not knocking her. ‘This is about Jasmine, not your pride.’
‘Don’t try and emotionally blackmail me. This isn’t about me, is it? This woman really has got under your skin, hasn’t she?’
Have I? Anna thought from her hiding place.
‘But you’re right, this is about what’s best for Jas. I’m sorry if you don’t like it but she stays, and for God’s sake be nice to her.’
His response was a deep mumble that Anna didn’t catch. She shouldn’t be eavesdropping! She felt a belated stab of guilt. She ought to reveal herself, she knew she should, it was the right thing to do. You are a coward, Anna Henderson, she told herself in disgust as she stayed where she was.
‘You’re just going to have to suck it up, big brother.’
There followed another angry exchange, this time in Italian, before Anna heard a female laugh followed by the sound of heels vanishing in the opposite direction. The other, heavier, footsteps got closer...oh, help!
Anna was faced with the choice to hide in the shadows and hope he didn’t see her or reveal herself.
* * *
Had Anna got under his skin? The lines bracketing his sensual mouth deepened as, ebony brows drawn into a scowling straight line above his masterful nose, Cesare turned the words over in his head. It was true. The redhead had got under his skin.
An image of her soft mouth and extraordinary luminous sky-blue eyes floated into his head. His lips tightened as he banished it, aware as he did so that it was not likely to stay banished. For a man who took his self-control pretty much for granted, this knowledge was an added irritant. He had only encountered the woman a mere twenty-four hours ago and in that time she had rarely been out of his thoughts. Take last night, for example. He shook his head slightly, dislodging the images, none innocent and all involving that lush mouth! She was going to be living under his roof so he needed to keep his imagination and his libido on a tight rein.
He recognised that the most irritating part of the situation was that his sister had made her argument pretty well, somehow giving the woman victim status, which was laughable. As for the implication that he was somehow prejudiced? He might be forced to accept the situation but he was not about to accept this skewed view, though he could see why it suited his sister. From her point of view this was an ideal solution to her short-term problem. Great for Angel, not so great for him bumping into a woman whom he despised and desired with equal force.
It was an admission, a weakness, he would never have needed to acknowledge if she and her red hair had simply left, but she hadn’t and pretending a situation didn’t exist was no defence. Face the problem and then deal with it.
Angel might trust her with Jasmine but he gave Miss Henderson two weeks tops before she stepped out of line, and when she did he’d be there.
Anna took a deep breath and stepped out in front of Cesare.
‘S-sorry if I shouldn’t be here but I think I got a bit turned around on the third staircase.’ Her shaky laugh was met with stony silence.
Cesare felt a jolt of shock as the woman that he had mentally been cursing emerged from the shadows. Against the stone wall her face was a pale oval, the hair that had been a subject of unwilling fascination for him yesterday today hung loose and untamed, the rippling, richly coloured Pre-Raphaelite waves falling down her narrow back. Gone also was the professional suit, replaced today by a pair of faded jeans that clung to the slight feminine curve of her hips. Tucked into the belt cinched across her hips, the blue striped top echoed the cobalt colour of her eyes.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/kim-lawrence/captivated-by-her-innocence/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.