8 Magnificent Millionaires. Cathy Williams

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8 Magnificent Millionaires - Cathy Williams


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still calling the doctor.’

      ‘No, Adrian, please!’ Unthinkingly, Liadan grabbed his hand and held it. ‘I’ll stay in bed for the rest of the day if you insist, but please don’t call the doctor out. I know I’m going to be fine.’

      ‘Okay.’ His dark brows drawing briefly together, Adrian glanced down at the small, pale hand that presently held him captive and mentally fought like a Trojan to stem the flood of sensual heat that infiltrated his blood and aroused him as he’d never been aroused before. She wasn’t well, he harshly reminded himself, so what the hell did he think he was doing lusting after her in her prim, unsuspectingly sexy Victorian nightgown? And Liadan wasn’t even his girlfriend. She was the woman he’d hired to be his housekeeper—a role that was as essential to his lifestyle as his computer, and no more emotional. He knew he had to get a grip. ‘Against my better judgement I won’t phone the doctor. But the second you feel worse or you’re in pain, that decision will rapidly change, and no argument!’ Reluctantly tugging his hand free, Adrian strode to the door. ‘I’ll give you a couple of hours, then I’ll bring you up a cup of tea.’

      ‘You don’t have to do that.’

      ‘Get some rest. I’m going downstairs to my study to work.’ His expression unreadable, he closed the door behind him without another word and Liadan had no choice but to sink back against her pillows and close her eyes.

      About to go into the study at Adrian’s behest, she paused outside the door for a moment, letting the tinkling, soporific sounds of the most exquisite piano music wash over her. It was one of her favourite pieces of music, written by an Italian composer who had died an early and tragic death. Liadan knew it well and had played it often. Her throat welling with emotion as she listened, she had to shake herself out of her momentary trance to knock on the door. At Adrian’s curt, ‘Come in!’ she pushed open the door and went inside.

      He was seated by the fire in a deep leather armchair, the silver in his hair an eye-catching contrast to the darkness of his clothing, his long legs stretched out before him as though he’d been relaxing for the first time in days, and Liadan was almost loath to disturb him. His expression was closed and unsmiling as he regarded her, but right then he exuded such strength, such irrefutable male beauty, that Liadan found she could forgive him for his less than warm welcome. Besides which, he’d let her rest upstairs in her room all day and had even brought her lunch. Not all employers would be so lenient and caring to someone who’d barely been in their employ for five minutes, and she should count her blessings. She was feeling much better, too. Her headache had definitely subsided and if she didn’t overdo things the following day, she would be more or less back to her old self. Now all she had to do was convince Adrian of the same.

      ‘You must be feeling better.’ He got to his feet and this time he did smile—albeit briefly. ‘You’ve got rosy cheeks.’

      Catching the ends of the dark green pashmina shawl she had teamed with her maroon sweater and long, black skirt, Liadan smiled back. ‘I had a long hot bath and washed my hair and now I feel like a new woman.’

      She’d left her hair free of binds this evening and it tumbled down her back in a riot of waves, like a fall of the most exquisite silk on display at a Bedouin market. For a moment Adrian was truly lost for words. The air he breathed was disturbed by the sweetly heady fragrance she wore, and its spellbinding impact registered a sensual punch deep in his belly, stirring feelings and emotions and needs he’d long trained himself to dismiss. But it was becoming more and more difficult to distance himself from this enchanting woman, he realised. He could no longer deny that he could barely think about anything other than seducing her. Even that nonsense with Petra had ceased to occupy him and last night, for the first time in ages, he hadn’t dreamt about Nicole at all…

      ‘Come and sit down.’ Indicating the other chair beside the fireplace, Adrian waited for her to sit before doing so himself.

      ‘I love this piece of music,’ she enthused, wrapping her shawl more securely in front of her chest. Adrian stared. Her blue eyes sparkled like jewels in the fire-light and all the gold lights in her hair seemed to dance and shimmer just for him. ‘Do you play?’ She directed her glance briefly across the room to the stately grand piano she had been fascinated with from the moment she’d set eyes on it.

      Relaxing back into his chair, Adrian shrugged, the beginnings of a smile touching his lips. ‘A little. Do you?’

      ‘I do.’ There was no point in being falsely modest, Liadan thought, not when she had been playing the piano since she was five. The only reason she hadn’t gone to music school was because her parents had needed her to help them in the hotel. She could have refused, but at the end of the day she hadn’t wanted to disappoint them because her brother Callum had sworn that no way was he going to go into the hotel business. So once again she had sacrificed her own needs for somebody else’s…Liadan dismissed the uncomfortable thought with a slight frown between her brows.

      ‘Would you like to play me something?’ Before she could answer, Adrian moved across the room to switch off the CD that was playing.

      ‘You don’t mind?’ Uncertainly Liadan got to her feet, her whole body in a state of quiet excitement at the idea of playing such a beautiful instrument.

      ‘Be my guest.’

      Settling himself back in his seat, Adrian made a steeple of his fingers and watched with interest as Liadan settled herself on the piano stool, then almost reverently lifted the lid to expose the keys. As soon as her fingers touched them she closed her eyes and began to play. The music that ensued was nothing short of wonderful. There was barely a difference from the CD recording that had been on a moment ago. The short hairs on the back of his nape standing on end, Adrian watched transfixed as Liadan continued to play, a quiet but powerful sense of excitement building slowly but inexorably inside him. Clearly at one with the music flowing from her fingertips, she kept her eyes closed mostly—as transported as he was on waves of sound so sweet, so poignant, and yet so powerful, that it almost brought tears to Adrian’s eyes.

      When she had finished, the silence in the room was profound. Glancing shyly across at him, Liadan smiled, her lovely face unable to conceal her joy. Without saying a word, Adrian got up and walked over to her. Taking her utterly by surprise, he bent down to capture her mouth in a long, deep, soul-stirring kiss that effectively blotted out his past as easily as though God had finally taken pity and obliterated it for good. Today was a new day. With this woman he was made anew. There was no stain on his soul to stop him completely giving himself to the moment…His hands cupping her face, feeling the strong yet delicate bones of her small jaw, Adrian explored the sensation of skin as soft as a newborn child’s beneath his fingers and something settled irrevocably inside him. Something profound and good and natural that reconnected him back to a world where good things really happened. Where all was not lost in a tangled dark web of death, deceit and destruction.

      Liadan could hardly believe he was kissing her. When she’d seen him approach she had secretly hoped, imagined…a peck on the cheek maybe? Something affectionate but polite that wouldn’t strain the bounds of their professional relationship too much. Something to show his pleasure at her playing. But, instead, the moment his lips took possession of hers she was shaken by a deep and stirring connection that unravelled her to the core. She was still shaking. The reality of his touch was so much more satisfying and passionate than anything she could have imagined. He kissed her as if he meant it. He kissed her as if he meant that kiss to lead to so much more. Liadan shivered. Need and want and carnal longing poured into her body, filling her with a profound, restless, scalding heat that begged for fulfilment.

      When his mouth finally released hers, Liadan stroked her fingers gently across her throbbing lips, her heart going wild. She could still taste him, still feel the sensuous exploration of his tongue and smell the exotically sexy tang of his aftershave.

      ‘What was that for?’ Was that really her voice? That soft bedroom huskiness?

      ‘That was for reminding me that grace and beauty still matter in the world. Thank you.’

      ‘You’re


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