CHAPTER THREE

      HAL HAD BEEN in dire need of a rest when they’d returned from the hospital. After the tedious rounds of X-rays and physiotherapy he’d endured, as well as a further consultation about the results with his surgeon, he’d been so exhausted that the only thing he’d longed for was at least a couple of hours of unbroken sleep.

      In the living room he’d allowed Kit to assist him in getting comfortable on the couch, privately surprised at how used to her touch he was getting and how quickly he had started to trust it.

      The biggest surprise of all had come when he’d learned what an amazingly confident driver she was. His top-of-the-range sporty four-by-four had been handled as expertly as if Hal was driving it himself. Any fears about her denting or damaging one of his favourite cars were happily unfounded.

      But when Kit had been gently about to drape a cashmere throw over him as he lay back against the couch cushions he’d instantly reverted to type and snapped, ‘For God’s sake, woman! Stop fussing, will you?’

      After that he’d despatched her to her room to unpack and acclimatise herself to her new surroundings, telling her to leave him in peace for a while. When she’d shut the door behind her, as he’d instructed, he’d closed his eyes only to find that the scent of her floral perfume lingered a little too disturbingly for his peace of mind. To compound the disturbance he’d also recalled just then how her precariously arranged topknot had finally collapsed during his consultation, spilling over her shoulders in a vivid autumnal riot of auburn silk. After that it had taken Hal quite a bit longer than he’d hoped to finally slip into the deep slumber he’d craved...

      When he awoke it was to a darkened room, with thundering rain pouring outside. The downpour was so fierce that it lashed against the window panes as if trying to force an entry. It must be quite some storm for it to be so dark this early. Manoeuvring himself upright, he roughly scrubbed the backs of his knuckles across his eyelids and yawned. The sudden realisation that he was in dire need of the bathroom made him immediately seek out his walking aids. When he saw that they had been leant against an armchair a few feet away he muttered a ripe curse beneath his breath. How the hell was he supposed to reach them over there? The uncharacteristic sense of helplessness that swept over him made him feel even more irritated.

      ‘Kit!’ he yelled. ‘Where the hell are you? I need you in here now!’

      The door opened almost straight away and variously placed lamps flooded the room with softly diffused lighting. The first thing Hal noticed was that his new assistant had tamed her riot of auburn hair back into its precarious topknot. He didn’t rightly know why that should be such a crime, but to his thinking it was.

      ‘I need my crutches,’ he said gruffly, carefully swinging his legs to the floor. ‘I’m pretty desperate to get to the bathroom.’

      Without a word she immediately went across to the armchair to collect them, then returned to stand in front of him.

      ‘It might be quicker if you lean on me and hop. It’s just a few feet away, isn’t it?’

      ‘Sweetheart.’ He glanced up into her pretty blue eyes and intoned, gravel-voiced, ‘I’m six-foot-two and no lightweight. I have only your word that you’re stronger than you look, and I’d rather not risk you getting a broken leg to match mine. Just help me with the crutches, will you?’

      A little more au fait with the walking aids since his session with the physiotherapist, Hal was nonetheless pleased to see that Kit had waited for him when he emerged from the bathroom. Keeping a close eye on him, she silently accompanied him back down the hallway and into the living room.

      ‘Would you like me to get on with dinner now?’ she asked.

      Dropping down onto the couch, he stared blankly out of the window, suddenly hypnotised by the still hammering rain. ‘It looks pretty bleak out there, doesn’t it?’ he commented.

      ‘Perhaps it’s not so bad being forced to stay in this evening in light of the weather?’

      There it was again...that surprisingly engaging smile. It completely transformed her otherwise serious demeanour and made Hal think she should smile more often. Not wanting to linger on the idea, he found himself nodding in agreement. For someone who prided himself on not letting even the most extreme weather conditions prevent him from doing what he wanted if he could help it, it was probably a first. Then it struck him what Kit had said just before that last remark.

      His brows drawing together in puzzlement, he asked, ‘Shouldn’t we be having lunch first?’

      ‘I’m afraid lunchtime has come and gone, Mr Treverne. You’ve been asleep since we got back from the hospital and that was nearly four hours ago. It’s just after six in the evening.’

      He was genuinely shocked. ‘You’re joking?’

      The slender shoulders beneath the mint-green sweater lifted in a gently amused shrug. ‘I promise you I’m not.’

      ‘Did I take a sleeping pill before I napped? I don’t remember...’

      ‘No, you didn’t. I think sheer exhaustion probably made you sleep so well. Anyway, you must be hungry. I saw that the fridge was well stocked and I took the liberty of making a beef bolognaise while you were sleeping. By the way, I checked with the agency that you weren’t a vegetarian. I’ve just got to rustle up some pasta and I’ll bring it in to you.’

      ‘Sounds good. But I’ll only eat it if you push me in my chair into the dining room and then come and join me. I really can’t abide eating my meals off of a tray, and neither can I abide eating alone. I feel decrepit enough as it is in my sorry state, without acting like an invalid.’

      Kit’s expression was visibly perturbed. ‘That sounds as though you believe you don’t deserve any acknowledgement of your condition at all. Isn’t that why you hired me in the first place, Mr Treverne? Because you needed some help?’

      ‘How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me Mr Treverne? And for pity’s sake please don’t keep referring to me as needing help. It’s becoming the bane of my life.’

      It wasn’t her reference to his need that was bothering him, Kit guessed. It was the fact that for probably the first time ever this fit, active and no doubt fiercely independent businessman and sportsman had to be dependent on others...a state he undoubtedly despised. In truth, she entirely sympathised. She would hate it too.

      ‘Well, I’ll just go into the kitchen and cook the pasta, then I’ll come back and take you into the dining room.’

      Stretching out his hand for the mobile phone he’d left on the coffee table, Hal turned towards her.

      ‘Take your time. I’ve got a couple of calls I want to make to my office first.’

      ‘Okay. If you need me for anything, just call out.’

      * * *

      While Henry had been having his rest earlier Kit had made good use of the time to unpack, arrange her clothes in the walk-in wardrobe and arrange her toiletries in the bathroom. Despite there being an array of wonderfully scented products lined up on the shelves, she wouldn’t be making use of them. After all, she was here to work, not as a guest. But she was more than appreciative of the