His Untamed Innocent. Sara Craven

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His Untamed Innocent - Sara Craven


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time to take no for an answer after all, Marin thought as she turned away—then froze as she heard the rattle of a key in a lock, the sound of the front door opening then slamming shut, followed by a swift and undoubtedly masculine tread approaching down the hallway.

      Sick with fright, she looked round for something, anything that she could use to defend herself against the intruder.

      Except that he was already in the doorway, his voice harsh with irritation as he demanded, ‘For God’s sake, Lynne, have you suddenly gone deaf?’ He paused with a swift intake of breath as realisation dawned.

      Marin found herself being comprehensively surveyed by eyes as glacially blue as a polar sea. When he spoke again, his voice was ominously quiet. ‘Who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?’

      Obeying an instinct she barely understood, she made sure the folds of the towel were secure.

      ‘I could ask you the same thing,’ she retorted, her voice quivering a little, because she already knew the answer—that the unexpected and unwanted visitor looking her over as she stood there, next door to naked and embarrassed out of her life, was Lynne’s boss, Jake Radley-Smith.

      ‘Don’t play games, sweetheart,’ he advised, his tone as cold as his gaze. ‘Just answer my questions before I call the police. How did you get in here?’

      ‘I’m staying with my sister.’

      ‘Sister?’ he repeated, as if the word was in a foreign language. ‘But Lynne’s an only child.’

      ‘Stepsister, then,’ she said. ‘Her father married my mother several years ago.’

      ‘Yes,’ he said slowly. ‘I’d forgotten. But it doesn’t explain why she’s given you the run of the place. However, that can wait.’ He glanced round, raking a hand through dark hair worn rather longer than fashion dictated. ‘So where is Lynne? I need to talk to her urgently.’

      ‘She’s not here; she’s away for the weekend in Kent. She said she’d told you.’

      The tanned face became, if possible, even more forbidding. ‘I thought I might catch her before she left.’

      Which was exactly why Lynne had made such a speedy departure, thought Marin.

      ‘I’m not missing out again,’ her stepsister had said grimly as she’d fastened her weekend case. ‘I’m going before Rad the workaholic finds another pressing reason for me to stay in London, like he did last time I planned to go to Kent. He may be prepared to put in twenty-four-seven, but not everyone feels the same, and I’d rather have this time off than a bonus, however generous, or Mike’s parents will wonder if I’m avoiding them.’

      Marin straightened her bare shoulders. ‘I’m afraid not,’ she said. ‘She’ll be back on Sunday.’

      ‘Which does not solve the problem I have this evening,’ Jake Radley-Smith said curtly.

      She lifted her chin. ‘I quite see she should have stayed here on the off chance you might need her,’ she returned with equal crispness. ‘But Lynne happens to have a life, and on balance I’d say it’s rather more important for her to meet the people who are going to be her in-laws than hang around in order to pander to her employer’s last-minute requests.’

      There was a silence, then he said, ‘Quite a speech, Miss…er…?’

      ‘Wade,’ she supplied. ‘Marin Wade. And, as you can see for yourself that Lynne isn’t here, I’d really like you to go, please.’

      He said almost pleasantly, ‘I’m sure you would, Miss Wade, but it’s hardly for you to order me off my own premises.’ The blue eyes looked her over again very much more slowly, and she felt her throat tighten.

      It occurred to her that she’d only ever seen him before in newspaper photographs, none of which had done him much justice. He wasn’t handsome, she thought, not with that beak of a nose which looked as if it had been broken at some point, but he was more than attractive. Very much more. His eyes were stunning, when they stopped glaring at people, while his mouth…

      She stopped right there, telling herself hurriedly that she didn’t even want to contemplate his mouth, which had begun to slant into a faint but dangerous smile.

      ‘And you’re hardly in any position to throw me out,’ he went on softly. ‘Not when you’re so delightfully undressed. I don’t think that towel would stay put for long if it came to a struggle.’

      He had her at a total disadvantage, of course. The dark formality of his charcoal business-suit set off the lean virility of his tall body, while the grey brocade waistcoat accentuated his slim waist. His shirt was white and crisp, and his tie was deep-red silk.

      He couldn’t have been more fully dressed if he’d tried, she thought with bewilderment, so how could he give her the troubling impression that he was exactly the opposite? That, in fact, he wasn’t wearing any clothes at all?

      She needed to return to safer ground—and fast. She said, dry-mouthed, ‘What do you mean—your premises?’

      ‘This is a company flat, Miss Wade,’ he drawled, his mouth quirking now in open sensuality. ‘It belongs to me, and I use it for foreign clients who don’t care for hotels. Lynne is borrowing it, as her landlord, much against his will, is being forced to carry out a major refit of her flat, and all the others in the property. Didn’t she explain that before inviting you to move in?’

      She shook her head. She said in a small, wooden voice, ‘There wasn’t much time for explanations. And she didn’t know I’d be coming until I rang her from the airport and told her I was pretty much stranded.’

      He frowned. ‘What happened? Were you robbed on holiday?’

      ‘No, nothing like that. I was working in France, and it—went wrong. And my own place is let for five months.’

      ‘I see,’ he said slowly. ‘So, that would seem to make you homeless, unemployed and broke.’

      ‘Thank you,’ she said, lifting her chin. ‘I don’t need to have that pointed out to me.’

      ‘Therefore,’ he went on as if she hadn’t spoken, ‘We might be able to do a deal. How much would you charge to spend the evening with me?’

      Marin gasped in sheer outrage. ‘What do you take me for?’ she burst out, then stopped, furiously aware of the response she was inviting.

      ‘Well, clearly not what you’re thinking.’ He had the audacity to laugh.

      ‘No matter how fetching you may look in that towel—which has slipped a little,’ he added softly, ‘in case you hadn’t noticed.’

      Colour stormed into her face as she tugged it hastily back to its former level, cursing his powers of observation.

      ‘And I’m making you a bona fide offer,’ he continued. ‘I have to go to a party tonight, and the girl I was taking has succumbed to a virus. That’s why I called Lynne—because I don’t want to turn up at this shindig flying solo, and I’d have paid her over the odds for helping me out. But, as she’s not around, you’ll do instead.’

      There was a taut silence, then she said, ‘You have to be joking.’

      ‘Now, there’s a stock response,’ he commented. ‘Your earlier eloquence seems to have deserted you.’

      ‘But not my sense of humour.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Thank you for your gracious invitation, Mr Radley-Smith, but—no. Not if my life depended on it.’

      ‘I was thinking more of your immediate fiscal future, Miss Wade. Can you really afford to turn down several hundred quid for a couple of hours in my company?’

      No, she probably couldn’t, she admitted silently, but what difference did that make?

      She said, ‘I don’t belong in your high-powered PR world, Mr Radley-Smith, believe


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