Perfect Strangers. Laura Martin
Читать онлайн книгу.
transfixed on his mouth. Would he kiss her? Would he?
The insistent bleep of the car phone shattered the moment. Olivia gasped a breath and saw amazement flicker momentarily across Jake Savage’s sharply angled features. He released her head and picked up the receiver, looking out through the windscreen into the darkening afternoon. ‘Yes?’
There was a short conversation, but Olivia was hardly aware of what was said.
She glanced across at the strong profile and saw that the phone had been replaced and that he was speaking to her. ‘Where to?’
‘It’s. . .not far from here. Just a mile or so along this road, as I said,’ she informed him slowly. The dark eyes were looking at the road ahead now and she was able to feel more composed. ‘There’s a turning off to the left. You can’t see that much of the cottage from the road, but it backs onto fields. There’s a stream and a public footpath which runs near by and both lead directly into the village.’ She was gabbling, and that was unlike her. She took a steadying breath. ‘It’s called—’
‘I know what it’s called. Honeysuckle Cottage.’
She tried to ignore the challenge in his eyes, but it was too strong, too infuriating. ‘So you live near?’ The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
He threw her an enigmatic look. ‘Not far.’
‘In the village?’
He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. ‘Not in the village, no. I have a place a couple of miles from here.’ There was a slight pause. ‘So, you’ve decided to buy this quaint little cottage.’ He surveyed her with a curious expression. ‘I wonder why.’
His direct gaze unsettled her, but she fought hard and managed not to let that fact show. ‘I felt like a change.’
‘Some change.’
A silence fell. Olivia looked down at her lap and wondered again if she had made the worst, most foolish decision of her entire life. Hell! What if she had? No job. No friends. She thought of the winter, cold and isolated and desolate.
‘A penny for them? Or are highly paid executives’ thoughts worth far more?’
Olivia glanced up and cursed silently; how did he know the sort of life she had led? Why couldn’t that stupid taxi driver have driven more carefully? Why had she ever had to meet this man? ‘There’s no need to mock!’ she retorted. ‘Are you always this infuriating?’
‘Not often. In fact, I can’t think of the last time I was so tempted. It’s been months. . .years,’ he added quietly.
‘Well, do you think you could cease laughing at my expense?’ Olivia snapped. ‘I’m not in the mood.’
‘It’s been quite a day, I should imagine.’ Dark eyes speared her face. ‘A shock to the system,’ he murmured softly.
Olivia felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end. His eyes. His voice. She felt a lurch of awareness kick her in the stomach and worked hard at trying to ignore it. Such a desperately attractive voice. He knew it, of course; men like him always did. ‘I’m looking forward to my new life,’ she declared resolutely. ‘There are masses of things I plan to do!’
‘Such as?’
She wouldn’t tell him. Her ideas for using part of the orchard as a tea garden, and converting one of the outside sheds into a bric-à-brac-cum-junk shop were still only in the early planning stages. He would probably shoot the whole lot down in flames with some clever remark and she didn’t want that—not whilst she was feeling so fragile, anyway. ‘Oh, all sorts of things,’ she murmured vaguely. ‘Once the cottage is how I want it, I’ll be able to view all of my options.’
‘Does one of those options include finding a job?’ Jake enquired. ‘Or are you wealthy enough not to have to worry about that sort of thing?’
‘I’ll be OK for a while. Look, I did know what I was letting myself in for,’ Olivia added, noting the disbelief in his expression. ‘I made this decision. My reasons are sound and...and it’s going to work!’
‘Who are you trying to convince?’ he drawled. ‘So you’ve left London, in something of a hurry, I would say, and you’re here all alone out in the sticks.’
‘Yes. How...do you know that?’
Dark eyes surveyed the long, richly coloured woollen clothes, the large gilt bangle that hung from her right wrist, the expensive rings and professionally styled hair.
‘You’ve got that city look; a pallor that stems from too many hours spent in an air-conditioned office. The superficial gloss from a superficial life,’ he drawled. ‘Let’s just say us country folk can spot it a mile off.’
‘Well, congratulations on your perception, Mr Savage, but surely it takes one to know one—I can’t say I see a great deal of the country yokel about you!’ Olivia retorted angrily.
‘I hide it well.’ He swung the Range Rover around a bend and then took a turning on the right, which led to a tree-lined lane.
Another terse reply. Olivia scowled. God! How she hated arrogant, egotistical males!
‘What exactly did you do in London?’
They were pulling into the driveway now. Olivia pressed the switch for the electric window and felt a surge of excitement rising as she looked at her new home. ‘I was in publishing,’ she murmured, narrowing her eyes against the rain that spat in at her face.
‘And you left? Why?’
‘I don’t actually see that it’s any of your business?’ Olivia flashed.
He shrugged. ‘For some peculiar reason I find myself interested—isn’t that enough?’
Olivia forced a sweet smile that dripped with sarcasm. It was a famous weapon. At work she had been renowned for it. ‘Surprisingly, Mr Savage, no it is not!’ No effect. Olivia exhaled an impatient breath. ‘I happen to be a private and—’
‘Independent woman,’ he finished drily.
Olivia nodded, satisfied that he was at last getting the picture. ‘That’s right.’
‘I would hazard a guess and say that that last quality is extremely important to you,’ he murmured, watching her resolute expression. ‘Am I right?’
‘Of course! Independence and freedom of choice—the most important things anyone can ever possess!’ she declared with absolute authority.
‘You really think so?’
Olivia showed her surprise. ‘Don’t you?’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
‘Just maybe?’ Olivia queried. ‘Only that?’
The attractive mouth twisted into a grim smile. ‘Freedom of choice—it’s not always the easiest of things to acquire.’
Olivia’s well-shaped brows drew together in query. ‘Isn’t it? Somehow I can’t imagine you ever having difficulty in that department!’ she responded tartly. ‘I would hazard a guess and say in your case that precious commodity money is not in short supply.’
‘You believe it all comes down to personal finance?’
Olivia glanced up at the glittering gaze, conscious once more of the derisive edge in his voice. What had she said? Why did he look so aggravated all of a sudden? ‘That has a lot to do with it,’ she murmured. ‘Well, yes, I do, as a matter of fact!’ she added, refusing to be put off by the disapproving vibes that were suddenly emanating from the powerful frame, determined to be perverse. ‘Money brings choice. There’s no question about that. Look,’ she added, angered by the now blatant look of steely dislike, ‘I was ambitious. I worked myself into the ground for eight years, made it to the top. I enjoyed the work, I was powerful, in my own small sphere, but