Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Elusive Lover

Elusive Lover
Carole Mortimer
Carole Mortimer is one of Mills & Boon’s best loved Modern Romance authors. With nearly 200 books published and a career spanning 35 years, Mills & Boon are thrilled to present her complete works available to download for the very first time! Rediscover old favourites - and find new ones! - in this fabulous collection…Claiming his virgin mistress…Wealthy businessman, Josh Hawke, is the one man who can take hotel maid Erin Richards away from her awful life that is a far cry from her childhood home in England. But leaving with Josh comes with a price—he wants Erin to be his mistress!Captivated by Erin’s beauty and naïve innocence, Josh is determined to entice her into his bed! But learning just how innocent Erin actually is, he’s faced with a decision: let Erin go or claim his virgin mistress…for ever?




Elusive Lover
Carole Mortimer


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Table of Contents
Cover (#u0f775285-a875-565a-8e18-42ab1735a0e1)
Title Page (#ue2eaaa2d-11b1-5ce8-845a-6e4f76fedcd0)
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#u86fa9ad8-399a-502f-9ce6-effb38b8b754)
ERIN groaned with weariness. One more room to do and she could finish for the day. So much for finishing by four-thirty! It was after that now, and as the person had checked out of this last room it was going to take at least half an hour to clean it thoroughly.
She unlocked the door, and the mess that met her gaze made her groan anew. Whoever had occupied this motel room last night had obviously thrown a party; the air was stale with cigarette smoke and empty beer bottles littered every conceivable surface.
She left the door open to clear the stale air, and started to clear the beer bottles. This room was worse than they usually were, she would never finish tonight! When Mike Johnston, the owner of the motel, had employed her two weeks ago he hadn’t told her that his wife, the other cleaner, was more often out shopping than she was actually doing any work. He hadn’t told her to expect constant sexual advances from him either!
It had all sounded so good—but then what wouldn’t after serving greasy hamburgers in an even greasier restaurant for six weeks! Cleaning and vacuuming a few motel rooms had seemed so easy by comparison. The hours had been straight eight-thirty until four-thirty, with two clear days off a week, as a waitress she had been working shift hours, and more often than not her days off were counted as compulsory overtime. The trouble was the same thing was happening here, plus she had to fight off the advances of the men who stayed here, men who seemed to think that their rent for the night included making love to the maid in the morning.
The most recent one had been only this morning, a young boy of her own age who had tried to pull her into bed with him. Not that he hadn’t been good-looking—he had; she just didn’t go in for the casual sex these men expected of her.
The idea of coming to Canada had seemed so exciting—to actually visit the place she had been born, had lived in until she was three years old, when her parents had emigrated to England. And Canada itself was lovely, especially the part of Alberta she was living in, but it was also expensive to live in Calgary, the cost of living here one of the highest in the country, and the two demanding jobs she had managed to find for herself had given her little time to go out and enjoy herself.
Mike Johnston, her boss, had offered her what he considered a form of entertainment. His form of entertainment didn’t coincide with hers, and his advances were becoming more and more difficult to repulse in a joking manner, and he had implied that if she didn’t soon give him what he wanted then she could start walking.
‘Is this twenty-six, honey?’
Erin turned at the sound of that huskily attractive voice, the pleasant Canadian drawl she had come to love. Her eyes widened as she took in the man’s appearance, the worn leather boots, the faded tight-fitting denims, the matching denim jacket worn over a red and black checked shirt, the thick black hair partly concealed by the brown cowboy hat, something a lot of Calgarian men seemed to wear, this man looked perfectly natural wearing it.
Her gaze returned to his face, a face deeply tanned, a square jaw jutting out firmly, a deep cleft in its centre, the well-shaped mouth now curved into an enquiring smile, the nose hawkish, the eyes deep-set beneath jutting dark brows, the colour of the eyes hard to distinguish from this distance, but they were definitely a light colour, blue or possibly green.
His very presence seemed to fill the shabby room, and Erin shivered with apprehension. Something about this man unnerved her. He wasn’t a holidaymaker, she was sure of that, and yet he wasn’t one of the rough young crowd they often had staying here either. The inability to put him into a category worried her, made her unsure of how she should act with him. He was aged about the mid-thirties mark, very good-looking in an outdoor sort of way, and surely wasn’t one of those men who liked to make passes. Maybe he was in town from one of the ranches, he looked as if that sort of life——
‘Well?’ he tersely interrupted her thoughts, easing the holdall more comfortably on to one of his broad shoulders.
‘I—er——’ Erin blinked hard. ‘Sorry?’ she asked lamely.
He raised his eyebrows, sighing his impatience. ‘Is this room twenty-six?’ he repeated his first question.
‘Yes,’ she nodded eagerly, feeling more and more stupid by the moment, knowing she was making an idiot of herself, but unable to do anything about it.
She felt decidedly dirty in the denims and cotton top she had worn to work this morning, her blonde hair tumbling from the elastic band she secured it with while she was working, looking younger than her nineteen years with her make-up-less face and snub nose covered in freckles. She felt about fifteen, and knew she must look it too.
The man’s lids lowered slightly, the lashes thick, and the colour of jet, like his overlong hair. ‘Then why does it say twenty-nine on the door?’ he drawled, walking inside to deposit the holdall on the unmade bed, his nose wrinkling with distaste at the mess that surrounded them.
‘I—it does?’ Erin frowned, walking to the door. She put up her hand to the nine and twisted it round. As soon as she took her hand away it slipped back round to the nine position. She wiped her hands nervously down her thighs. ‘I think the—the screw must have fallen out,’ she stated the obvious.
His mouth twisted. ‘My thoughts exactly when I saw twenty-five one side and twenty-seven the other. English?’ he suddenly rapped out.
‘Er—yes,’ she admitted huskily.
‘Well, my little English miss,’ he drawled mockingly, ‘I happen to have rented this room for the night.’
‘You do?’ she asked in dismay, knowing it was going to be some time before she finished the cleaning, and she just couldn’t do it under this man’s watchful all-seeing gaze. She could see what colour his eyes were now; they were the deepest green she had ever seen, the colour of emeralds, a startling contrast to his deeply tanned skin.
‘I do,’ he confirmed tauntingly, removing his hat to reveal the darkest hair Erin had ever seen, a deep ebony, with a bluish sheen to the shine. And he was such a tall man, dwarfing her five feet two by at least a foot, his eyes narrowing as she continued to stare at him.
Erin grimaced. ‘I haven’t finished cleaning in here yet.’
He looked slowly around the room, not missing a bottle or a cigarette stub. ‘Honey, I hope you haven’t even started. I would hate to think rooms were rented out in this condition.’
She put her hand up to her untidy hair. ‘I’m a—a little behind today,’ she told him nervously.
He looked appreciatively at that part of her anatomy. ‘You look as if you’re a little behind every day,’ he mocked, his gaze returning to her flushed face.
Erin just looked flustered. ‘I—I meant I haven’t finished my work yet.’
‘I know what you meant, honey——’
‘I am not your honey!’ she exploded. It had been a long day, and she was hot and tired, tired of making beds, tired of cleaning dirty bathrooms, and she wasn’t in the mood to let this mocking stranger use her for his amusement. ‘I’m not your anything,’ she told him firmly. ‘Now I’ll get your room ready as soon as possible, but I’m afraid it will take a few minutes.’
‘Now don’t apologise, you’re spoiling the whole effect.’
She frowned at him, feeling like a mouse being tormented by a cat. ‘Effect?’ she blinked her puzzlement.
‘For a while there I thought you must have a permanent stammer,’ he drawled. ‘That little show of temper showed me you don’t. So don’t start babbling like an idiot again.’ He sat down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, his dusty, boot-clad feet on the bedcover.
Erin gasped her indignation. ‘Don’t call me an idiot! And get your feet off the bed!’
He smiled, revealing very white teeth. ‘You haven’t changed the bed yet, have you?’
‘You know I haven’t!’
‘Then my feet stay where they are. At least this way I’ll know you changed all the bed-linen.’
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and she could quite cheerfully have hit him in that moment, regardless of the consequences. ‘I always change all the bed-linen,’ she snapped.
He put his hands up behind his head and leaned back. ‘Don’t let me keep you from your work,’ he taunted.
‘You aren’t!’ She marched angrily into the bathroom, beginning to wash the bath in hard angry strokes. Arrogantly, mocking man! He was just what she needed at the end of a long, hard day!
‘Calmed down yet?’
She turned to see him standing in the open doorway, seeming to fill most of it. ‘I’m perfectly calm,’ she said in her most haughty English accent.
‘Mm, I can see that,’ he mocked, coming to sit on the side of the bath as she moved to clean the sink.
He was overwhelming this close to, smelling of a mixture of some tangy masculine cologne or aftershave and a much more basically male smell, one that stirred the senses, one that warned you to beware of this man. Erin didn’t need any warning, she could see he was dangerous!
She pointedly ignored him as she continued to clean the bathroom, which wasn’t all that easy with those lazy green eyes watching her so closely. He leant casually against the doorjamb now, his arms folded across his muscular chest. Erin was aware of his every movement without even having to look at him.
She brushed past him on her way out to the main room, coming into contact with the hardness of his thighs before moving sharply away, the hot colour flooding her cheeks.
Again he followed her, sitting down on one of the double beds. ‘What’s a sweet little baby like you doing in a place like this?’ he asked suddenly.
Erin flashed him a resentful glance. ‘That isn’t very original!’
His expression hardened. ‘It wasn’t meant to be,’ he rasped. ‘It was a sincere question. Little girls like you have been known to be gobbled up and never heard of again in this city.’
She could believe it; she seemed to have done nothing but fight off one man or another since she had been here—and for all of his lightly teasing manner she wasn’t so sure this man’s intentions were any different!
He gave her a scathing look. ‘I don’t happen to be “hungry” for skinny little English girls,’ he taunted, seeming to read her thoughts.
She flushed fiery red. ‘I’m as Canadian as you are!’
His dark eyebrows rose. ‘Really?’ he obviously doubted her claim.
‘Yes, really.’ She gave up all pretence of working, knowing she was only making a mess of it anyway. ‘I was born in Calgary,’ she told him with a certain feeling of triumph.
‘Then why do you sound like a prissy English girl?’
Erin gasped. ‘Because I was brought up a pris—I was brought up in England,’ she amended at his taunting smile. Her chin Vent up in challenge. ‘Where they obviously taught me more manners than you were ever taught in Canada!’
He gave a shout of laughter, tiny lines appearing beside his twinkling green eyes, the cleft in his chin more pronounced. ‘What’s your name, funny face?’ he sobered.
‘Erin Richards,’ she revealed stiffly.
He held out his hand. ‘Joshua Hawke—Josh to you.’
His hand was firm and strong, sending an electric thrill tingling up her arm and down her spine. She felt mesmerised by the warmth of those emerald-coloured eyes, then suddenly realised he hadn’t released her hand, and snatched it away as if he burnt her.
She licked her suddenly dry lips. ‘I—I’d rather call you Mr Hawke,’ she said stiffly.
He grinned. ‘I’m sure you would, hon—sweetheart, but——’
‘I don’t like being called sweetheart any more than I enjoy being called honey,’ she cut in firmly, deciding the time had come to put this conversation on a more businesslike footing.
Joshua Hawke still grinned at her. ‘You’re acting prissy again,’ he taunted.
She drew in an angry breath. ‘And you’re being rude again!’
He pursed his lips together thoughtfully. ‘Okay, Erin, truce. Now, tell me how a native Calgarian talks with that precise English accent. Was that bordering on the rude again?’ he quirked an eyebrow mockingly.
‘You know it was!’
He sighed. ‘So just tell me. The less I say the less chance I have of offending you.’
‘I don’t have the time to talk.’ She began stripping the beds. ‘I have to finish getting your room ready, and I work quicker if I don’t talk.’
‘Then I’ll help you.’ He marched over to her trolley and picked up the clean sheets, spreading one of them on the mattress.
‘But you—you can’t do that!’ she gasped.
‘I just did.’ He calmly continued to make the bed. ‘You look as if you’ve done enough already.’ He stopped to frown at her pale cheeks and slender body. ‘Do you eat?’
‘Of course I eat!’ she snapped her resentment.
He stood up to survey the too-slender curves below faded denims and light cotton sun-top, seeming to strip this fragile covering from her body and see the gauntness below. His eyes narrowed to steely slits. ‘How often?’ he demanded to know.
Not as often as she should. For one thing she didn’t have the time, and for another she didn’t have the money, not to eat the nourishing food that she needed anyway. French fries and hamburgers were cheap, but after cooking and serving them for six weeks she couldn’t even look at them, let alone eat them.
‘Well?’ he rapped out.
Erin scowled at him, wishing he would just mind his own business. ‘I eat as often as I’m hungry,’ she evaded.
His look was considering. ‘And how often is that?’
‘Once, sometimes twice a day,’ she admitted grudgingly.
His expression darkened. ‘And did you eat today?’
‘Not yet,’ she mumbled, unable to meet his searching gaze. What did it have to do with him how often she ate!
‘Are you going to?’ he persisted.
‘I—Probably.’
‘Which means you aren’t going to,’ he sighed. ‘How long have you been over here?’
‘Eight weeks,’ she frowned.
‘And how much weight have you lost in that time?’
‘I—’
‘How much, Erin?’
‘Twelve pounds,’ she muttered.
He nodded, as if he had already guessed as much. ‘Twelve pounds you couldn’t do without.’
She glared at him. ‘What does it have to do with you? What do you care that I don’t eat?’
His expression softened. ‘I care, Erin. I care,’ he repeated gently.
It was the gentleness that was her undoing. She swallowed hard, her face suddenly crumpling, deep sobs racking her body as she cried out all the misery of the last few weeks.
‘Hey, it’s all right, honey!’ Strong arms came about her and she was drawn against a hard chest, lean fingers gently caressing her golden locks. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ Josh Hawke’s warm breath stirred the hair at her temple.
‘You didn’t,’ she choked. ‘At least, only indirectly.’ She burrowed against his chest, somehow feeling safe and secure, held close in his arms, his skin smooth against her cheek where his shirt was partly unbuttoned.
‘Tell me,’ he encouraged softly.
Her body shuddered emotionally. ‘It’s just so long since—since anyone said that to me.’
‘Said what, little one?’ He slowly caressed her back.
Erin sniffed inelegantly. ‘That they—they cared!’ She started to cry once again.
His arms tightened about her. ‘Cry it all out, baby,’ he soothed. ‘And then we can talk.’
That stopped her tears. ‘T-talk?’
‘Yes, talk. I want to know exactly what a baby like you is doing here on your own. You should still be in school, not acting as a slave in a second-rate motel,’ his voice hardened grimly over the latter.
Erin gave a watery smile, wiping her cheeks dry as she moved away from him. ‘I left school years ago,’ she sniffed.
‘How many?’
‘Three.’
‘Three!’ he scorned.
Her eyes widened. ‘Don’t you believe me?’
‘No.’
She spluttered with laughter. ‘You’re honest, anyway.’
‘That’s better,’ he grinned. ‘You’re really cute when you laugh.’
She pulled a face. ‘Cute!’
‘Pretty?’
‘Well…’
‘Ravishingly beautiful,’ he mocked.
Erin laughed again. ‘I’ll stick with pretty. And I did leave school three years ago—I’m nineteen.’
‘Wow!’
She flushed. ‘Just because you’re old——’
‘I resent that, young lady,’ he firmly grasped her arms. ‘I’m thirty-four, and I wouldn’t be nineteen again for a million dollars.’
‘It’s pretty rough, isn’t it?’ she agreed ruefully, feeling strangely breathless close to him like this, and strangely happy for the first time in months.
‘It’s lousy,’ he nodded, glancing down at his wrist-watch. ‘Hell, it’s after five already.’ He looked up at her. ‘I have to be somewhere by six. Can we talk when I get back?’
She shrugged out of his hold on her. ‘We’ve already talked. I—I’m sorry I cried all over your shirt. I have to go now, I should have finished hours ago.’
‘Erin——’
She turned away. ‘You’ve been very kind, Mr Hawke. I don’t usually bore the guests with my problems——’
He swung her round angrily. ‘I know that, damn you! Erin, I wasn’t giving you the brush-off, I really do have to be somewhere by six. But I want to see you when I get back.’
‘I won’t be here.’ She refused to look at him, feeling embarrassed at the way she had broken down in front of him. She didn’t usually cry all over perfect strangers. But he was the first person to show her any real kindness since she had come to Canada, so he had been treated to all the emotion that had been building up in her over the last few weeks.
‘Where will you be?’ he wanted to know.
‘At my home,’ she answered evasively.
‘Where is it?’
Her stance became defensive. ‘That’s none of your business. Look, I’ve apologised for bothering you, now would you please go on to your appointment and let me finish up here.’
‘Erin, I want——’
‘I don’t care what you want!’ She shook off his hand on her arm, running to the door. ‘I’ll finish your room once you’ve left.’ She closed the door behind her and ran hurriedly to the store-room.
‘Erin!’ Joshua Hawke caught up with her before she reached it, spinning her round to face him. ‘Now I intend talking to you.’ His expression was grim, all of the lazy charm he had first teased her with completely erased. ‘If you won’t tell me where you live then meet me here. We can have dinner together, and you can tell me about yourself.’
She faced him defiantly. ‘And why should you want to know anything about me? Haven’t I told you enough—bored you enough, already?’
‘You haven’t bored me,’ he shook her roughly. ‘You’re lost and alone, and——’
‘But I’m not suicidal!’ she scorned him.
He seemed to go pale. ‘All right, Erin,’ he thrust her away from him, ‘if that’s the way you want it.’ He turned and strode off, getting into a brown pick-up, its paintwork mud-spattered, a huge wooden crate in the back. Her last glimpse of him qwas a narrow-eyed man intent on the road in front of him, his hat pulled low over his face, his jaw set in a firm line.
Oh, how could she have told him all those things, cried all over him like that! She just hoped she never had to face him again. She had made an absolute fool of herself.
She tidied his room so fast it must have been a record, terrified he would get back before she had finished. But he didn’t, and she was able to make her escape without making any more of an idiot of herself.
Only Mike was in the office when she went in to say goodnight; Frances was probably in the back doing her nails. What else would she be doing! A curvaceous blonde of about thirty, she wasn’t exactly maid material.
Mike looked up from his newspaper. ‘A little late tonight, aren’t you?’ he scowled, a tall sandy-haired man who couldn’t believe every woman he came into contact with didn’t find him madly attractive. He and Frances made a good couple, although Erin wondered when they ever had time for each other, they seemed to have such a lot of other—interests.
She gave a dismissive shrug. ‘I had a lot to do,’ she told him pointedly.
His gaze slowly undressed her. ‘So I saw,’ he sneered. ‘Flirting with the guests isn’t what you’re paid to do.’
She bit her lip. ‘Flirting…?’
‘I saw you with the Hawke guy. Find him attractive, do you?’
‘I—No! No, I——’
‘Liar!’ he accused angrily. ‘I hope you aren’t up to anything with him, Erin, because I don’t allow that sort of thing in my place.’
She stiffened with indignation. ‘I’ve no intention of “getting up to anything” with Mr Hawke. I happened to be doing his room, and——’
‘Spare me the details,’ Mike cut in nastily. ‘I just want you to remember,’ he moved closer to her, his hand touching her waist, ‘that I’m first in line when you do decide to start coming across.’
His crudeness made her feel sick, as did the way he was touching her. He had also answered her curiosity about Frances; she couldn’t be back yet, Mike would never act this way within hearing distance of his wife.
Erin moved away from him. ‘I just came in to tell you I’ve finished for the day. I’m going to my room now.’
His gaze ran over her suggestively. ‘Want me to come with you?’ he asked softly.
She swallowed hard. ‘No, thank you.’
‘So polite,’ he taunted. ‘Do you say thank you afterwards too?’
She had to get out of here, before she was physically sick. ‘I—Goodnight, Mike.’
‘’Night, Erin. Tomorrow’s another day, hmm?’
She looked away. ‘Yes,’ she agreed in a choked voice.
His mocking laughter followed her. He had her trapped, and he knew it. If only she hadn’t been so stupid, so trusting. When Mike had told her that there was a room she could rent from him she had jumped at the chance of leaving the flat she had been paying an exorbitant rent for and moving in here. The room had turned out to be little more than a cupboard, the rent almost as high as the one she had been paying, also Mike conveniently had a key to her room. She had changed the lock once, but he had demanded her spare key—for fire purposes, he said. She could hardly refuse in the circumstances, and so now she lived in dread of him just letting himself into her room one night.
So far he hadn’t done so, seeming to be biding his time, but she knew that very soon her time was going to run out. And she lived in dread of that day!
No wonder she had lost twelve pounds; she was surprised she hadn’t lost more, having no appetite, and hardly daring to sleep at night because of Mike and that spare key.
She studied herself in the mirror once she reached her room. She looked a mess—too thin, too pale, and worst of all, no vitality. It was hard to believe this was the same näive girl who had set out so hopefully eight weeks ago.
It had taken just two weeks of that time for her to realise her father didn’t want her around, another week to realise it was going to take forever to get the return air-fare together. So far she had a hundred dollars towards it, at this rate she might get back to England in six months or so.
She groaned, burying her face in the pillow and sobbing what few tears she had left after crying in Joshua Hawke’s arms.
Six months ago it had all seemed so easy, so very easy. She had hardly been able to believe it when Bob had offered to buy her an air ticket to see the father who had returned to Canada when Erin was only five years old. Until she saw it was a one-way ticket!
Her mother had died just over a year ago, leaving Erin to care for the man who had been her stepfather since she was eight years old. It was the age-old story of immigrants, one partner liked the new country and one didn’t. Her mother liked England and so she stayed, her father hated the little country that would fit into one corner of Canada, so he returned to his native country. They had divorced two years later, and a year after that her mother had brought Bob Walker home as her stepfather.
He wasn’t the sort of man to tolerate children, liking to go out in the evenings, taking her mother with him, and so for the most part he ignored Erin’s very existence. Her mother had claimed he needed time to adjust, and yet when her mother had died just after Erin’s eighteenth birthday Bob was still resenting her presence in his home.
She had tried to care for Bob the way her mother had, had tried to love him, and yet it was so hard to love someone who had never shown her even one gesture of affection in the whole of the ten years she had known him.
After a year of cooking and cleaning for him, with not one word of gratitude, she was prepared to admit defeat. Then out of the blue Bob had given her the air-ticket to come out here and visit her father. She hadn’t thought twice about it, writing to let her father know, and even though she had received no reply from him she had still come, sure that after all this time he would want to see her.
He hadn’t. He had remarried himself, had a new family, a son and daughter of ten and eleven respectively, and his second wife had left Erin in no doubt of her opinion of her turning up on their doorstep uninvited.
Nevertheless, her father had grudgingly allowed her to stay, putting her in with Ronnie, his other daughter. Ronnie turned out to be a precocious little brat, who took every opportunity she could to let Erin know she wasn’t wanted there.
The last straw had come after she had heard her father and stepmother arguing about her. With a few cruel words she had learnt that her father was no more pleased to see her than her stepmother was, that she had been the result of an effort on her parents’ part to try and make their marriage work.
Even now she didn’t like to think about it, to realise that she hadn’t so much been wanted by her parents but had been a final attempt to pull their marriage together. It wasn’t surprising that such parents should have destroyed her.
Oh, her mother had tried her best, had loved her in her own way, but ultimately it was Bob who always came first, even if he wasn’t always right.
She had left her father’s house after hearing that argument, and the lack of argument at her decision to leave only served to enhance the fact that she hadn’t been wanted there in the first place.
And so she had been left alone, with very little money, and no visible means of supporting herself. In a place as large as Calgary, a city growing at a rate too fast for its population, she had felt sure she would be able to get a job. She could, if she didn’t mind waiting two or three weeks to get an interview. She had been through it all before in England, and she didn’t have the funds to wait that long, so she took the first job she could start immediately, little realising that once she began work she had no time to look for a more suitable job.
She spent the evening doing her laundry, suddenly realising at bedtime that she hadn’t eaten again. Joshua Hawke had probably gone out and had a big juicy steak, forgetting all about the childish creature he had invited to join him.
Why had he done that? He didn’t seem to be the type good Samaritans were made of. And yet he had listened as she sobbed her heart out. Listened! The poor man hadn’t had much choice about it, she had cried all over him!
Well, that wouldn’t happen again. She didn’t need or want anyone worrying over her, least of all a tall arrogant stranger who mocked her most of the time.
She didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed when she left her room the next morning to find the brown pick-up noticeably absent. Joshua Hawke must have left very early, it was only eight-thirty now. Perhaps he worked on one of the ranches after all. But his hand, when he had touched her, hadn’t felt calloused and rough. It hadn’t felt soft and effeminate either, making his occupation a puzzle.
Why on earth did she keep thinking of the man! She wasn’t likely to see or hear from him again, he had probably forgotten all about her now that he had returned home.
Did he have a wife? She somehow didn’t think so. Why she thought that she didn’t know, he just hadn’t looked married. She was probably wrong, he probably had half a dozen children too! Maybe that was the reason he had been so patient with her display of tears, because he had children of his own.
But he hadn’t treated her like a child, despite calling her ‘little one’ and ‘baby’!
She had to stop thinking about the man; he had gone now, and she doubted he would ever be back. This motel rarely had the same visitors twice, the rooms were not exactly of a glamorous standard.
‘Daydreaming?’ Frances Johnston asked waspishly, as she sat behind the desk in the reception area, looking attractive in a tight blouse and even tighter skirt.
‘No, I—I was just—thinking.’ About Joshua Hawke! And she wouldn’t do it again. The man had shown her a little kindness, but he was gone now, for ever.
Frances’ mouth twisted. ‘A bit early in the day for that, isn’t it?’
‘Maybe,’ Erin dismissed, knowing that the other woman was spoiling for an argument. Frances didn’t like her, was aware of her husband’s interest in her, and she liked that even less. If only she knew how Erin hated Mike’s attentions, the way he took every opportunity to touch her, the way he crudely made verbal passes at her! The whole thing made her cringe, but Frances seemed to enjoy acting the jealous wife, and took delight in making digs at Erin whenever they were alone together.
Frances looked down her nose at her. ‘I have to take care of the office for a couple of hours. You start the rooms and I’ll catch you up later.’
She knew that meant she was on her own again today, and the thought of cleaning forty rooms single-handed for the second day running made her groan in dismay.
Her resentment burned all the time she was loading the clean linen on to the trolley, wheeling the huge vacuum-cleaner out on to the pathway.
She couldn’t stand much more of this, she just didn’t have the stamina for it. For about the tenth time in as many days she promised herself that tonight she would look through the newspapers for another job, knowing that when the time came she would be too tired and disheartened to bother.
Room twenty-six first; she could be sure that room was empty. Would Joshua Hawke have left any of his personality in the room, or would it just be the impersonal room it had always seemed?
Joshua Hawke again! He meant nothing to her, nothing. How could she possibly miss a person she didn’t even know, a person who had taken a few minutes out of his day to listen to her? She couldn’t. And yet his mocking kindness had stayed with her all during the night, and for once she had slept soundlessly.
The room was in darkness, the curtains having been left drawn, and the smell of alcohol was very strong. Erin’s nose wrinkled with distaste. Joshua Hawke hadn’t just left an imprint of his personality on the room, he had left it in almost as much of a mess as it had been yesterday!
She sighed heavily. So he hadn’t been so different after all, just another man out for a good time. The ‘talk’ he had wanted last night could have been a lot more than that. Thank heavens she had refused.
She moved to the window to pull back the curtains and let in some light, gasping as a hand caught her around the wrist and the rumpled mound of sheets and blankets materialised into a body—a male body.
‘Mr Hawke!’ she gasped.
‘’Morning, sweetheart,’ he smiled up at her, his eyes lazily appreciative, his black hair tousled into disorder. The sheet fell back to his waist as he sat up in the bed, and Erin didn’t need much imagination to know that the rest of him was as naked as that hard-muscled chest!

CHAPTER TWO (#u86fa9ad8-399a-502f-9ce6-effb38b8b754)
‘I—Good morning,’ she returned stiltedly. ‘I’m sorry if I disturbed you.’ She looked away from that naked chest and the clear outline of his thighs beneath the sheet.
Heavy lids lowered over teasing green eyes. ‘Honey, this sort of disturbance I like,’ he grinned at her.
Erin wished he wouldn’t smile at her, it gave her a fluttering sensation in her stomach and made her breath catch in her throat. ‘I thought this room was empty,’ she said awkwardly.
‘It is—except for me.’
‘I——’ She suddenly realised he was still holding her wrist, his thumb running over the delicate veins there. When she tried to pull away his grip tightened, pulling her down beside him on the bed. ‘Would you let go of me? Please,’ she added in a pleading tone.
‘In a minute,’ he dismissed, his other hand coming up to slowly trail the fingers down her cheek. He frowned as she flinched. ‘What is it?’ he asked sharply. ‘Did I hurt you?’
He had been infinitely gentle, and he knew it. It was that she no longer trusted herself to be any sort of judge of character. Yesterday she had thought him a nice man who was genuinely interested in her, until he had shown her that his appointment, which by the odour in this room had been with a beer bottle, was more important than listening to the woeful tale of some unknown English girl, and now he had pulled her down on to his bed, in which he was obviously naked.
‘Erin?’ he prompted.
At least he remembered her name! ‘No,’ she moved away from that caressing hand, ‘you didn’t hurt me. I’ll come back when you’ve gone,’ and she stood up, trying to pull her wrist out of his grasp.
He was completely alert now, the last blanket of sleep—or hangover—pushed to the background. ‘Did you eat last night?’ he asked suddenly, refusing to let her go.
He completely threw her with the unexpectedness of the question. ‘No,’ she answered huskily.
His face darkened with anger. ‘Why?’
‘I—I forgot.’
‘You forgot!’ he repeated in disgust. ‘How can you forget to eat?’
Erin moved uncomfortably. ‘I don’t know how, I just do it all the time.’
He gave an angry sigh. ‘Because you’re too damn tired to think straight. What time did you finish here last night?’
‘About six-thirty.’
‘Plenty of time for you to have met me for dinner.’
Her nose wrinkled. ‘I’d rather have no dinner at all than one that consisted mainly of beer.’
For a moment Joshua Hawke looked incredulous, then his eyes glittered with anger. ‘You little——!’ He broke off, pulling her roughly down beside him to bend over her, his mouth coming down savagely on hers.
Erin was shocked into acquiescence, lying quietly beneath him as he plundered her mouth with ruthless insistence, holding her arms at her sides as she began to fight him. She was suffocating, unable to breathe, and her frightened groans of distress finally seemed to reach him as he lifted his head to look down at her.
She couldn’t have known the vulnerable figure she looked, with her wide frightened eyes and trembling lower lip. Joshua Hawke’s expression softened as he looked down at her. ‘Your accusations were unfounded, little one,’ he said softly. ‘But I don’t think you deserved that,’ he touched her slightly swollen lips. ‘Do you accept my apology?’
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. ‘I—I——’
‘You’re babbling again,’ he taunted.
Her eyes flashed. ‘Of course I’m babbling!’ She pushed against him, the warmth of his skin seeming to burn her hand, bringing her to an awareness of the fact that only a thin cotton sheet separated her from his nakedness. She sat up, scrambling hastily off the bed. ‘You shouldn’t have kissed me,’ she accused.
He leant back against the headboard. ‘I agree, I shouldn’t. But then you shouldn’t have accused me of having a drinking dinner. I had a couple of beers with some friends of mine, but I certainly wasn’t drunk.’
‘No?’ She picked a pair of crumpled denims up from the floor, giving him a pointed look before putting them on the chair.
‘Don’t do that!’ He threw back the sheet and got out of bed, wearing a pair of navy blue briefs, his legs as tanned as the rest of him. He put the denims back on the floor. ‘They happen to reek of beer.’ He unzipped the holdall and pulled out another pair of denims.
Erin looked down at the floor, never having seen a man almost naked before, especially one who was so unconcerned by the fact. She daren’t look up, her embarrassment was so acute.
‘And it wasn’t beer I intended drinking.’ He pulled on the denims and zipped them up. ‘Dave tipped a whole glassful of his beer over me—accidentally. You can look up now,’ he drawled mockingly.
She looked up and then looked hastily away again. His chest was still bare, covered with a fine mat of black hair, his stomach taut and flat, the dark hair passing over his stomach, and lower. He had a magnificent body, lean and tautly muscled, and just to look at him made her blush.
His hand came up under her chin to tilt her face up to him, forcing her to look at him. ‘Hey, no one is that shy,’ he teased.
‘I am!’ she snapped. ‘Put it down to my prissy English background,’ she added bitchily.
He laughed. ‘I’m not to be forgiven for that either, hmm?’
She sighed. ‘I just wish you wouldn’t tease me.’
His thumb slowly caressed her bottom lip. ‘Who says I was teasing?’
Her eyes flew open, deeply blue, her lashes long and thick, naturally so. ‘I—You must have been,’ she fluttered.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Must I?’
‘Yes…’
Josh Hawke shook his head. ‘I never tease when I make love to a woman. But you’re such a baby, I probably scared the hell out of you, hmm?’
She licked her lips nervously. ‘A—a bit.’
He nodded. ‘I thought so. Well, this time I’m forewarning you. You have two seconds to move away, otherwise I’m going to kiss you again.’
She couldn’t move; she tried, but something held her back. Maybe it was the warmth of his breath against her cheek, or the mesmerism of his deep green eyes, whatever the reason she hadn’t moved when his head lowered to claim her lips for the second time.
His shoulders felt firm beneath her touch as he curved her slender body against the hardness of his, almost lifting her off the ground as he held her to him. His mouth moved druggingly against her, his hands moving down her back, his fingertips running lightly up and down her spine.
Erin was starving for affection, crying out for someone to love her. It had been so long since anyone had held her, kissed her, and she fell a victim of her own weakness for affection, her arms entwining about his neck as she stood on tiptoe to increase the pressure of his mouth on hers.
He pulled back with a gasp. ‘Erin——’
‘Yes—Erin,’ drawled a sarcastic voice from the doorway.
She turned a guilt-stricken face to Frances Johnston as she stood in the doorway, pulling out of Josh Hawke’s arms to run to the door, brushing past Frances and out of the room.
‘Erin——’
‘Don’t worry about her,’ Frances softly interrupted Josh as he came after Erin, and her hand glided up his chest, her long nails painted a deep dark red, ‘Erin tends to be a little—emotional,’ she added huskily. ‘Youth has a way of looking at these things differently.’
Erin turned just in time to see Frances moving insinuatingly against Josh as she slowly pushed him back inside the room.
She couldn’t stay here another moment longer, she just couldn’t. She might be left out on a limb, with no job and nowhere to sleep, but after what Frances had just witnessed her life wouldn’t be worth living around here anyway.
Once she reached the privacy of her room she threw all her belongings into her battered suitcase, tears streaming down her face. Josh was probably reaping the benefit of Frances’ experience at this moment. He would certainly find she had a lot more to offer than Erin had.
God, she hated him, hated them both. How could she have let Josh kiss her like that, have actually kissed him back! It wouldn’t have happened normally, not if she weren’t feeling so miserably alone. She wasn’t usually susceptible to the lazy charm Josh had seduced her with, she was just homesick, needed to get back to England, to——
Who was she kidding? The man had enough charm and sexual attraction to make her fall for the same thing all over again. He had probably recognised her need for some kind of human warmth, and had decided to take advantage of it.
She was such a fool, such a complete and utter idiot. A man like that wouldn’t seriously be interested in someone like her. He was in town looking for fun—and she was supposed to be it. Frances would be a willing stand-in, and Joshua Hawke would probably enjoy it more with her.
The door to her room was suddenly flung open, and Mike Johnston came inside and closed the door. ‘Well, well, well,’ he taunted, his gaze insolently undressing her. ‘And just where do you think you’re going?’ he looked pointedly at her half packed suitcase.
She threw some more clothes inside, not caring that they would all be creased and unwearable when next she opened it. ‘I’m leaving,’ she threw some more things in the case. ‘Right now.’
‘Oh yeah?’ he sneered, his arms folded challengingly across his chest.
‘Yes,’ she nodded, going into the bathroom to collect her few cosmetics.
Mike followed her, swinging her round to face him. ‘You can’t just walk out on me.’
‘I’m going!’ She tried to pry his fingers from her arm, but they refused to be dislodged. ‘Let me go, Mike.’
‘Not until you’ve given me what I want, what you gave that guy in room twenty-six last night.’ His wet lips came down on hers, forcing her head back, her arms twisted painfully behind her back.
‘No!’ She wrenched her mouth away, struggling to be free.
‘Yes!’ he hissed, pulling her so hard against him that he knocked the breath from her body, momentarily dazing her. He pushed her over to the bed and forced her down, his weight pressing down on her.
After Josh this man was grotesque, everything about him nauseating her, so much so that she couldn’t even fight him as he pulled her shirt out of her denims and roughly undid the buttons.
‘I told you I was the first in line when you started coming across,’ he breathed heavily as he looked down at her nakedness. ‘Frances told me you stayed with that guy Hawke last night,’ he snarled.
That brought her out of her daze. ‘Frances told you…?’
‘Just now,’ he nodded, his mouth plundering the hollow between her breasts.
Just now? That meant Frances must have left Josh almost immediately, and from the way she had made a play for him Erin didn’t think the other woman had been the one to call a halt. Josh must have rejected her, he must have done!
She began to struggle now, to fight back, although she didn’t give herself time to wonder why Josh’s lack of interest in Frances should cause this reaction. ‘Let me go, Mike,’ she ordered firmly. ‘Let me go!’ she panicked as he refused to be pushed off, his weight heavy on top of her.
Suddenly he was pulled off her and slammed against the wall. ‘You heard the lady,’ Josh told him, dangerously soft, his eyes glittering like green pebbles as he held the other man pinned to the wall. ‘She doesn’t like you touching her.’
Erin was too busy rebuttoning her shirt to care about the damage Josh might do to Mike; the former was obviously the stronger and fitter of the two.
Mike gave a taunting smile, holding up his hands defensively. ‘She’s all yours, if you want her badly enough to fight over her. Personally I’ve never found her that good.’
She gasped. ‘Why, you——’
‘Keep your dirty comments to yourself,’ Josh rasped, his grasp tightening about the other man’s throat. ‘Or would you like me to make you?’
‘Josh——’
‘You can get out,’ Mike turned on her savagely. ‘Just take your things and get out.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Josh’s mouth twisted, ‘I don’t intend leaving her here with you.’ He thrust the other man away from him, wiping his hands down his denim-clad thighs, as if the touch of the other man had contaminated him.
‘Why, you——!’ Mike raised a fist and swung it at Josh, missing by inches as the latter ducked, his own fist landing painfully in Mike’s flabby stomach. ‘Hell!’ Mike groaned, bent over double.
‘Get out,’ Josh ordered coldly.
Mike looked up with jaundiced eyes. ‘You can’t tell me to get out of my own property!’
‘I just did.’
‘But——’
‘Out!’ Josh snapped tautly.
Mike staggered to the door. ‘I meant it about your going,’ he snarled at Erin’s bent head.
‘Neither of us will be staying,’ Josh answered for her. ‘As soon as Erin has her things together we’ll both be leaving.’
‘That will save me the trouble of throwing you out!’ Even Mike must have realised that was a purely defensive threat, because he made a hasty exit.
Erin slumped back down on to the rumpled bed. ‘Oh, God!’ she shuddered, burying her face in her hands.
Josh’s arm came about her shoulders as he sat down next to her. ‘It’s all over now, sweetheart,’ he comforted gently.
She stiffened, moving away from him. ‘Until the next time,’ she mumbled, standing up to fasten her packed suitcase.
His eyes narrowed to steely green slits. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
She shrugged, feeling cold inside, numb. ‘Men are all the same—they take, they don’t give.’
Amusement lightened his expression. ‘And where did you learn that little gem?’
Her eyes sparkled as she glared at him. ‘From men like you, like Mike, like—like——’
‘Like?’ he suddenly towered over her.
‘Like my father, like Bob,’ she told him vehemently. ‘My father only had me in the first place to try and keep his marriage together, and when it didn’t he couldn’t give a damn about me. And as for Bob, he never wanted me in the first place. He couldn’t wait to throw me out either.’
‘What did you do to him?’ Josh drawled.
‘Nothing! I tried to do everything for him. I took care of him, I even tried to love him, and in the end he threw me out. He has a woman called Mary living with him now,’ she added bitterly.
She had written to Bob to let him know she was leaving her father’s house, and he had written back telling her that there was no place for her at his home, that he had a girl-friend, a girl-friend who had moved in with him. She hadn’t been in touch with him since.
‘Are you ready to leave?’ Josh asked abruptly.
‘Yes. But I don’t really expect you to leave with me.’ She shrugged. ‘Why should you?’
‘Maybe I don’t like the idea of the barracuda being able to enter my room any time she chooses. Or maybe I just don’t like the idea of that guy trying to get into bed with the girls who work for him.’
‘Girl,’ Erin corrected, pulling on her jacket. ‘I’m the only girl who works for him,’ she explained at his questioning look.
‘And the barracuda?’
‘Mike’s wife, Frances.’
The green eyes widened. ‘Those two are married?’
Her mouth twisted wryly. ‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Hell,’ Josh shook his head. ‘Do they have any children?’
‘No—thank God.’
‘My sentiments exactly.’ He buttoned the shirt he had obviously pulled on in a hurry. ‘Do you know that woman was perfectly willing to carry on where you’d left off?’ he expressed his disgust.
Colour flooded her cheeks as she remembered exactly where she had ‘left off’. ‘You aren’t telling me you didn’t like it,’ she scorned to hide her embarrassment.
His expression darkened, his handsome face harsh. ‘Would I be here if I did?’
‘I—No, I suppose not.’
‘Definitely not.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Now let’s get going. I’ll take you out to breakfast.’
‘I’m not——’
‘You’re eating,’ he told her firmly, pulling her out of the room with him. ‘I’ll just get my holdall. Wait here for me,’ he instructed once they reached the front of the motel.
Erin waited until he had entered his room before going into the reception area. Frances wasn’t there, so perhaps she was actually cleaning the rooms for a change. After all, there was no one else to do it, not now.
Mike looked up with a scowl; his stomach was obviously still bothering him. ‘What do you want?’ he growled.
Erin stood her ground, sick of being exploited, determined not to take it any more. ‘I want my wages for the past week,’ she told him unflinchingly.
His face became flushed with anger. ‘You have to be kidding,’ he scoffed, his gaze insolent. ‘Let your lover take care of you.’
She had to bite her tongue to stop the fiery retort that sprang to her lips. She wouldn’t give this man the satisfaction of losing her temper with him, he just wasn’t worth it. ‘I want my wages,’ she repeated in a controlled voice. ‘And I want them now.’
‘Well, you aren’t getting them,’ he told her nastily.
‘Is that your last word on the subject?’
‘Yes, that’s my last word on the subject,’ he mimicked.
‘Very well,’ she gave a cold inclination of her head, ‘you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.’
His eyes widened in surprise. ‘Over a few dollars?’
Erin shook her head, remaining calm and composed. It was as if she were someone else, a new Erin who wouldn’t be undermined. ‘Not over a few dollars, no. But over a case of sexual harassment, yes.’
He gasped. ‘Sexual harassment——! My God, you little bitch!’
‘I mean it,’ she said firmly.
He was white with anger. ‘I can see that, damn you,’ he rasped, pulling open a drawer to take out some dollars and throw them across the desk at her. ‘Here, take it. And don’t ever come back.’
‘I don’t intend to.’ Erin picked up the money and crammed it into her denims pocket, picked up her suitcase and turned to leave. Josh was leaning against the doorjamb, open respect in the warmth of his eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she accepted gratefully as he took her suitcase out of her shaking hand.
‘You took a risk in there, little one,’ he said once they were outside, his expression grim. ‘He could have got really nasty.’
‘So could I,’ she told him without emotion.
Josh shook his head. ‘Not as nasty as he could. I thought you’d left, you know,’ he gave her a sideways glance.
If she could have got her money and left before he reappeared then she probably would have done. As it was she intended taking the first opportunity she could to get away from him. She had had it with men, any man.
‘Not until I had my money,’ she said firmly.
‘You said sexual harassment,’ he recalled slowly. ‘Does that mean this morning has happened before?’
She, flushed. ‘Not in such intensity, no. Could you slow down a little?’ she requested impatiently, having great difficulty keeping up with his longer strides. ‘Where’s your pick-up truck, anyway?’
‘Being serviced. It should be ready this afternoon.’ He slowed down. ‘What do you mean, not in such intensity?’
She shot him a resentful glance, once again acknowledging, reluctantly, how well the hat, denims, and boots suited his dark, rugged attractiveness. He could almost have belonged to the days of the Wild West, almost. But there was an air of awareness about him, almost one of sophistication—if it could be called that, an impression of worldliness that seemed to indicate that he didn’t always dress or act this casually.
‘Erin?’ he prompted at her silence.
‘Oh, he just—he’s touched me, made implications, things like that,’ she dismissed, hating having to talk about such things, especially to the man she had kissed so passionately only minutes earlier. ‘Nothing I couldn’t handle.’
‘Until this morning,’ he said dryly.
‘That was your fault,’ she flashed. ‘Oh yes, it was,’ she insisted at his sceptical snort. ‘Frances told Mike that you and I had spent the night together. He didn’t like that.’
‘It seems the barracuda can talk when she wants to. It took me a hell of a long time to get her to tell me where you were living,’ he explained. ‘Did that guy force his way into your room just now?’
‘Or did I let him in, you mean?’ she scorned bitterly.
‘No, I didn’t mean.’ His expression darkened. ‘How did he get in if you didn’t let him in?’
‘By using his key,’ she revealed dully.
‘You gave him——’
‘No, I didn’t!’ she snapped, and explained how Mike came to have a key to her room.
‘The bastard!’ Josh muttered.
‘Yes.’ They were still walking, apparently with no purpose in mind. ‘Where are we going?’
‘I told you, to have breakfast. Here we are,’ he stopped outside one of the restaurants she never seemed to have the time to try. ‘I hope you’re hungry,’ he said before going inside.
Erin had the feeling that even if she weren’t he would still make sure she ate. She had no choice but to follow him in, her case, with all her worldly possessions, still held firmly in his hand.
He was greeted like a regular, obviously well known by the waitress who came to seat them. ‘Table for two, Josh?’ she looked speculatively at Erin.
And no wonder! It was only nine-thirty in the morning, and Josh was still carrying her suitcase.
‘That’s right, Marie,’ he grinned at the young girl, her open, fresh prettiness obviously appealing to him. ‘And do you have somewhere to stow this until after we’ve eaten?’ he indicated the suitcase.
‘Sure——’
‘Oh, but——’
‘Something wrong, Erin?’ Josh quirked one black eyebrow at her.
She reached for the case, anxious not to let it out of her sight. ‘I’d rather keep it with me.’ It was all she had in the world.
‘Okay,’ but he kept a firm grip on it. ‘Table for two people and a suitcase, Marie,’ he requested tauntingly.
Erin waited until the other girl had poured their coffee before lashing out at him. ‘It’s all right for you to laugh at me,’ she snapped, ‘but everything I own is in that case.’
He pulled a face. ‘It doesn’t weigh much.’
‘That’s because I don’t own much!’
‘Drink your coffee,’ he instructed. ‘It’s good and strong. You’ll feel better for it.’
‘How do you know that?’ she asked in a disgruntled voice. ‘I may not even like coffee. Did that occur to you when you were accepting on my behalf?’
‘You should have said——’
‘As it happens, I like coffee,’ she told him coldly. ‘What I don’t like is someone making my mind up for me.’
Green eyes narrowed with impatience. ‘I’m sorry, Your Majesty. Is this place to your liking, Your Highness?’
She blushed at his sarcasm, pretending to look around consideringly. Compared to the eating-house she had worked in this was really good, very clean, the booths and tables all fitted out in green crushed velvet, the staff all smartly dressed in black and white.
The two of them were seated in a side booth, the hot sun from outside not filtering through the small set-back window and so making it hot and uncomfortable to eat.
‘Well?’ Josh prompted.
Erin looked back at him. He was easily the most attractive man in the room; most of the other tables were full. He had taken off his hat now that they were inside, and his hair appeared even blacker, slightly ruffled where he had run a casual hand through it. The denim jacket and trousers were just as casual, the boots just as dusty, and yet he stood out from the similarly clad men in the room.
‘It’s all right,’ she shrugged, annoyed with herself for noticing how attractive Josh was. Enough men had hurt her lately, without her falling for this man.
Marie came back to take their order, and Erin half-heartedly ordered eggs and bacon, making sure her request for her eggs to be ‘flipped over’ went in, the thought of the near raw eggs she would be served if it didn’t making her feel nauseous. She had made that mistake once, but she had never made it again. Josh ordered everything—eggs, bacon, sausages, and wheatcakes.
‘Like some?’ he asked as he requested the latter.
‘No, thank you,’ she grimaced. She would have enough trouble getting the eggs and bacon down her. Since she had stopped eating so much she had been unable to take in great amounts when she did get around to having a meal.
‘Hash browns?’ he asked hopefully.
She rather liked this form of fried potato, so she nodded acceptance. ‘Please,’ she added politely, sitting back as her coffee cup was refilled. She had learnt that wherever you went they would just keep filling your cup up with coffee unless you asked them to stop, and they never seemed to charge any more for it. She knew, because sometimes these gallons of coffee were all she could afford on the budget she had allowed herself.
‘At last we’ve found something the lady likes,’ Josh taunted, sitting back in his seat as he watched her through narrowed eyes.
Erin flushed. ‘I’m sorry if I’m bad company. It isn’t every day I lose my job and get thrown out of my lodgings.’
‘Mm, we’ll have to see what we can do about that later. Right now I intend to have that talk you vetoed last night. Let’s start at the beginning. How did you get out here in the first place?’
‘Plane!’ she mocked.
‘Very funny! I meant where did you get the money from?’
It must be obvious from her clothes that she couldn’t have afforded the ticket herself, and she flushed her resentment. ‘How do you think I got it? Walking the streets?’
Josh sat forward with a sigh, obviously coming to the end of his patience with her. ‘You tell me,’ he drawled. ‘Did you?’
‘Of course not——’
‘Why so indignant, Erin? You brought the subject up, I’m just asking. Is that the way you got your money together to come here?’
He was serious, damn him! Her sarcasm had backfired on her, Josh’s intent look showed her that he wanted an answer. ‘No, it isn’t! Bob bought me a one-way ticket.’
‘Boy, he must have really wanted to get rid of you. Not a very good reference, is it?’ Josh mocked.
Erin gave him a startled look. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he dismissed. ‘You aren’t bad at keeping a place clean, anyway.’
She flushed. ‘I’ll get another job, if that’s what you mean.’
‘Honey, I’m sure you will. With your talents you’re sure to be in demand.’
‘If you’re being sarcastic——’
‘Oh, but I’m not. I know a lot of men who would jump at the chance of having someone like you to keep their house clean during the day and their bed warm at night.’
‘You——’
‘Our breakfast has arrived, Erin,’ he interrupted what looked like being a tirade, sitting back while his laden plate was placed in front of him, smiling up at the susceptible Marie.
Erin saw that smile, and the effect it had on the other girl, and looked away. One smile and he thought he had Marie in the palm of his hand. Maybe he did, but his charm wasn’t working as well on her. She would just have her breakfast and go, knowing she had to find herself another job before this evening or risk sleeping under the stars. She had no idea how the police felt about people sleeping out on benches over here; in London they were usually moved on or arrested for the night. That would be all she needed!
She thanked Marie for bringing her meal. ‘I don’t like the implications of your remark,’ she told Josh once the waitress had moved away.
He looked up from pouring maple syrup on his wheatcakes. ‘I wasn’t implying anything, I was stating a fact. On your track record you’re sure to get yourself into another unwanted situation.’
‘I didn’t choose to have Mike makes passes at me!’ Her eyes flashed deeply violet.
‘Just as you didn’t choose to have Bob throw you out and replace you with a woman called Mary. You sure know how to pick ‘em, Erin,’ he shook his head. ‘Now eat your breakfast. And no more talking until I’ve finished eating. I hate arguing with a pretty woman when I’m eating.’
‘You——’
‘I mean it, Erin,’ his eyes were like green chips of glass. ‘Eat.’
She did so, reluctantly at first, and then with increasing enjoyment as her appetite returned.
Josh drank several cups of coffee with his meal, the eager Marie always seeming to be on hand to refill his cup, her manner cooler when she served Erin.
‘Right,’ he finally sat back, his plate completely empty now, a satisfied smile to his lips. He eyed her half-eaten food. ‘Is that all you can manage?’ he frowned.
She nodded, having sat back in amazement as Josh had eaten all the fried food on his plate, plus the wheatcakes and a couple of rounds of toast. It had taken her all her time to eat what she had, and in truth it hadn’t been much.
Josh’s frown deepened, his wide brow furrowed. ‘Will that get you through the day?’
‘Usually,’ she nodded again.
He shook his head. ‘I think you should see a doctor——’
‘Don’t be silly,’ she gave a dismissive laugh. ‘My body has just got used to taking in less, that’s all.’
‘Have you ever heard of anorexia nervosa?’
‘Of course—I haven’t got that!’ she scorned, having heard a lot in the media about the dieting disease that could kill people if they weren’t helped soon enough.
‘Maybe not yet,’ he conceded. ‘But you’re headed that way. You need feeding up, three good meals a day.’
‘After which I would probably be as big as an elephant,’ she smiled. ‘I’ve always had a tendency to put on weight easily.’
‘Contrary to popular belief, most men prefer a woman with a little flesh on their bones,’ he rasped harshly.
‘Show me one,’ she laughed.
‘You’re looking at him.’ He gazed steadily back at her as her eyes widened in disbelief.
‘You have to be thin nowadays to look good in clothes,’ she defended the fashion of being boyishly slender.
‘It’s no good looking good in clothes if you look awful without them,’ he derided.
‘I don’t look awful——’
‘Granted,’ Josh nodded. ‘From the little I saw when that guy almost had your shirt off I would say you have a nice little body. I just think you should be a little more concerned about the fact that you can no longer eat a normal sized meal.’
Erin was still blushing over the fact that he thought she had a ‘nice little body’, but unconcerned about her eating problem. That he had noticed her body at all came as something of a surprise to her, that he liked it made her feel selfconscious.
‘I’ll be fine once I get back to England,’ she assured him.
‘And when will that be?’
‘I—I’m not sure.’ She evaded those all-seeing green eyes. ‘Next month, maybe,’ she lied.
‘Why not now? You have nothing to keep you here, do you?’
‘I—no. I came over to see my father, but it didn’t work out.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Josh prompted softly.
‘There isn’t a lot to tell,’ she said awkwardly. The pain was still too new for her to talk about it unemotionally.
‘Tell me anyway,’ Josh insisted.
She told him the bare outline of her visit to her father, aware that he was astute enough to read between the lines, and by the sympathy in his eyes he had done that very well.
When she had finished he just nodded. ‘So now you’re alone in Calgary?’
‘Yes.’
‘So why don’t you go home?’
‘Because I don’t have the money! I’m sorry,’ she sighed, ‘I didn’t mean to shout. But it’s so expensive living in Calgary. It’s going to take me months to get the money together for my return ticket.’ Without realising it she contradicted her previous statement about returning next month.
‘Not necessarily,’ Josh put in softly.
‘Oh, it will,’ she nodded. ‘I wasn’t expecting to be returning, so what little savings I did have I spent on a few new clothes. And I’m not getting on very well with my saving here.’ She straightened in her chair. ‘Which reminds me, I should be going. Thank you for breakfast, Mr Hawke, but I have to go and get myself another job now.’
His hand on her arm stayed her move to stand up. ‘What sort of job?’
Erin shrugged. ‘The same as I’ve been doing, I suppose.’
‘Cleaning and making beds?’
‘Yes,’ she answered resentfully. ‘There always seem to be those type of jobs going.’
‘Oh, there are,’ Josh nodded. ‘I know of one myself.’
‘You do? Where—No, I can’t ask you for any more help,’ she sighed. ‘You’ve been very kind already. In fact, I should be buying you breakfast.’ She pulled the notes out of her pocket that Mike had given her for her wages, giving a rueful laugh. ‘I think you must have frightened Mike—he overpaid me!’
‘Put it away, Erin,’ Josh instructed in a voice that brooked no argument. ‘When I invite someone out to eat I don’t expect them to pay for it. And I meant it about the job. Are you interested?’
Pride warred with necessity, and finally necessity won. ‘Yes, I suppose I am. It would be the same sort of thing, cleaning, stuff like that?’
‘Stuff like that,’ he nodded. ‘What you have to decide is whether or not you would find my sexual harassment any more acceptable that you did Mike Johnston’s.’

CHAPTER THREE (#u86fa9ad8-399a-502f-9ce6-effb38b8b754)
ERIN swallowed hard, licking her lips as they suddenly seemed too stiff to speak, searching his strong, hard face for some sign of the teasing mockery he seemed to treat her with.
She could see none. Josh was gazing steadily back at her, seemingly waiting for her answer. But what could she answer to a suggestion like that?
‘I—What did you say?’ she finally asked huskily.
‘I think you heard me, Erin,’ he drawled, his mouth twisting.
‘Yes, but—I don’t understand!’
‘Then perhaps I’d better explain myself,’ he taunted. ‘I live alone, and after a winter of cooking and cleaning for myself, of being without female company——’
‘Now that I don’t believe!’ she scorned. This man had a lazy charm that attracted women like bees around honey.
‘But it’s true. I’ve been working——’
‘Doing what?’
‘Time enough for that later,’ he dismissed. ‘I’d just got to the part where I’ve denied myself female company,’ he derided. ‘Meeting you has made me decide it’s time to change all that. You’re good at cleaning, and anyone can cook. Your references as a lover aren’t all that good, but——’
‘That’s because——’
‘You’ve been choosing the wrong men,’ he erroneously finished her outburst. ‘You respond beautifully to me.’
‘Well, really!’ Erin gasped.
‘Yes, really,’ he mocked in that lazy drawl. ‘A few lessons and you’ll be just perfect.’
Erin was very pale, wondering when this nightmare was going to end. ‘Lessons you intend giving me, I suppose?’ she said hollowly.
‘Of course.’
She shook her head. ‘Are you insane, Mr Hawke, or am I?’
‘Neither of us, honey,’ he squeezed the hand he still held. ‘And I haven’t finished explaining yet. Now I have reason to go to London in a couple of weeks’ time——’
‘London?’ she echoed in a dreamlike voice.
‘Yes,’ Josh smiled. ‘Like to go with me?’
‘Go with you?’ she squeaked.
‘You’re beginning to sound like a parrot,’ he teased.
‘But I—— You said go with you?’ she asked eagerly.
‘Yes,’ he said suddenly serious again. ‘In return for your taking care of the house—and me, I’ll buy you your ticket back to London. What do you say?’
What did she say? A chance to go back to London in two weeks and not the months she had envisaged. But at what a price!
But why not? Joshua Hawke was a devastatingly attractive man, had already shown himself to be an accomplished lover, so why not accept his offer? At least she would be getting something back for what every other man seemed to want to take for nothing.
But to share a bed with this man, with a complete stranger—was getting back to London worth that?
Josh watched all the different emotions flickering across her face, the consternation, the doubt, the bewilderment. ‘Is it yes or no?’ he prompted hardly.
‘I—I don’t know,’ she muttered. ‘I—It seems a bit—drastic to me.’
Humour quirked his mouth. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard sharing a bed with me called “drastic” before——’
‘There’s a first time for everything,’ Erin snapped.
‘There sure is,’ he grinned, underterred by her attitude. ‘But it won’t be the first time for you, will it?’
Her eyes widened as she took in the implication of his words. If she said yes, would he withdraw his offer? She had a feeling he would. ‘No,’ she said shakily.
Josh reached into the breast pocket of his denim jacket and took out a piece of paper. ‘Do you have a pen?’
‘In my bag,’ she answered in a puzzled voice, taking one out and handing it to him.
He wrote something down on the piece of paper. ‘Here,’ he handed it to her, ‘take the rest of the day to think over my offer. You can leave a message for me at that telephone number any time until four o’clock. After that I’ll have left town.’ He picked up his hat, preparing to leave.
Erin put her pen away and picked up the piece of paper. ‘I—Where is this?’
‘A friend’s house, the same friend that’s servicing my pick-up for me. He’ll be there all day, call him if you want me to pick you up someplace.’ He stood up.
Erin looked up at him with wide eyes. ‘Where are you going?’
‘I have some business in town.’
‘You never did tell me what work you do,’ she frowned.
‘Time enough for that if you decide to take me up on my offer, and if you don’t… Well, then it won’t matter.’ He picked up the bill, tipping his hat to her. ‘See ya.’
Erin watched in frustrated silence as he moved to the desk to pay for their meal, the infatuated Marie moving hastily to take his money, giggling and blushing as he talked softly to her.
Damn him! He had just propositioned her, and now he was walking out of her life as if she meant nothing to him.
Maybe she didn’t, except as someone to cook and clean for him—and share his bed. Two weeks of having a man like that for a lover could leave her more scarred than she was already.
But London! It beckoned like a pair of warm arms on a cold day. She liked Canada, but for all she had been born here she felt alien, longed for the rush and bustle of England’s capital, for the sight of the familiar black taxis, a red bus, the pigeons in Trafalgar Square. No matter where she had been born, London was her home, and she longed for it with a desperation that bordered on panic.
Enough to become Joshua Hawke’s lover? She baulked at the word mistress, the description sounded subservient. It would simply be a job, like any other, with no emotion involved, and a plane ticket back to London would be her wages.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/carole-mortimer/elusive-lover/) 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.