The Aristocrat and the Single Mum. Michelle Douglas
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seventh Lord of Holm was definitely lost.
‘Would you like something to eat? A muffin?’ Her stomach rumbled its approval. She hadn’t had time for breakfast this morning, and Kelly’s triplechoc muffins were to die for.
‘No, thank you.’ He didn’t glance away from the view.
She wasn’t eating if he wasn’t. With her luck, she’d end up with chocolate muffin all over her face and that so wasn’t the look she was after.
‘Two flat whites, please,’ she said to the waiting Kelly. ‘In mugs.’
‘Settling into your office, hon?’
‘It’s a mess.’ She fished around in her pocket for change. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever find anything ever again.’
‘And when she does,’ Simon said, snapping back around to the counter and holding out a twenty-dollar note to Kelly before Kate could free her hand from her pocket, ‘she kisses it in gratitude.’ He winked. ‘That kind of behaviour can have a strange effect on a guy. She needs to be more careful.’
Kelly laughed. So did Kate—in complete and utter surprise. Not to mention delight. ‘If I’d known the sun would have such a beneficial effect on your mood I’d have dragged you out here ten minutes ago.’ But then she had visions of kissing Simon with a whole lot more fervour than she’d kissed her missing file of receipts and she started burning up from the inside out.
‘Kelly,’ she said hastily, ‘this is Felice’s brother, Simon.’
‘Nice to meet any family of Felice’s.’ Kelly stared at him in open curiosity. ‘Felice was the hit of the summer.’ Then she winked at Kate. ‘You going to put him to work on your boat?’
Kate cocked her head to one side and pretended to consider it. ‘He’s got arms that look like they could hold a boat steady.’
‘He’s got arms that look like they could hold a whole lot more than that, hon.’
Simon laughed.
Kate’s imagination supplied her with more images than she knew what to do with. Heat blazed through her and she couldn’t think of a single comeback.
Kelly took pity on her. ‘Go and find yourselves a table. I’ll bring the coffees out when they’re ready.’
‘Thanks, Kelly.’
Kate chose a table outside in the shade with a magnificent view of the bay, but it didn’t cool the heat circling through her. She tried to remember the last time she’d been on a date.
She had to remind herself that this wasn’t a date.
Back to business. ‘Are you and Felice close?’
His smile disappeared. ‘Of course we are.’
Kate noticed his telling hesitation, the pause before the rough ‘Of course’.
His spine stiffened. ‘We’re family.’
She took in the expression on his face. Her chest expanded and her back tightened. ‘Want to tell me about it?’
His face closed up. ‘There’s nothing to tell.’
She tried a different tack. ‘No offence, but I know for a fact that Felice is twenty-two. You don’t exactly look…’ She trailed off with what she hoped was delicate tact.
A glimmer of a smile appeared in the grey eyes. ‘I’m ten years older than Felice.’
Kelly set their coffees in front of them. ‘Thank you,’ Kate murmured, and although she sensed Simon was immersed in thoughts of Felice, he still roused himself to send Kelly a smile of thanks that put a spring in the other woman’s step.
It was a nice thing to do.
She had a feeling that, beneath all his bristling worry and concern, Simon Morton-Blake was a nice man.
‘Ten years is a pretty big age gap between siblings,’ she observed.
‘It is,’ he agreed.
He took a sip of his coffee. Frown lines marred the perfection of his face. He took a second sip and Kate wondered if he even tasted it. Kelly did the best coffee on the bay, but it looked as if great coffee was wasted on the seventh Lord of Holm today.
‘Felice has always been too reckless and irresponsible.’ He glanced up and speared her with his clear grey gaze. ‘What did Kelly mean when she said Felice was the hit of the summer?’
‘That she was popular, fun. That everyone liked her.’
His mouth grew grim. ‘That’s what I was afraid of.’
She wanted to ask why, but she bit her tongue. Beneath the table she selected Felice’s number on her mobile, then brought the phone to her ear. Simon’s eyes narrowed in on the phone in the space of a heartbeat. ‘She was neither reckless nor irresponsible working for me.’ Kate crossed her legs and waited for Felice to answer. ‘In fact, she was a great worker.’
He nearly dropped his coffee. ‘Felice?’
‘Hey, it’s me,’ Kate said when Felice answered.
‘Hey, what’s up?’
‘Sorry to call when—’ she shot a glance at Simon ‘—you’re holidaying, but you’ll never guess who has shown up. I have the seventh Lord of Holm sitting across from me as we speak.’
Dead silence greeted her pronouncement. It did nothing to allay her unease. ‘Felice?’
‘Simon? Simon is there?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘What have you told him?’
Felice’s shriek nearly deafened her. She wondered if Simon could hear it from the other side of the table. He moved as if he might try and take the phone from her. Kate shifted so he couldn’t. ‘Nothing. Why?’
‘You don’t understand!’
‘Obviously not.’
Simon stared at her as if he couldn’t believe she had his little sister on the other end of the line. He stared at her as if he wanted to hug her. As if he wanted to kiss her in gratitude like she’d kissed that folder. All because she’d rung his little sister. Had he thought she’d leave him to stew in all that worry and concern he’d done his best to hide but couldn’t?
‘He will ruin everything!’
For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to believe that.
‘Please, please, please, Kate. Promise me you won’t tell him where I am.’
‘I can hardly do that when I don’t precisely know where you are myself.’
‘You can’t tell him I’ve married Danny!’
Kate bit her lip. Simon narrowed in on the action and Kate recognised the flare of desire that burst to life in his eyes. She did her best to un-bite it, but it was too late. Blood started fizzing through her veins and her mind filled with images in instant response.
Oh, stop it! He was a tourist. She didn’t mess with tourists. She shook herself and forced her mind to focus on her conversation with Felice.
‘Kate, promise me you won’t tell him I’m married.’
Oh, dear. ‘I…er…was hoping you’d do that.’ She didn’t want to be the one to tell Simon his sister had eloped. Amazingly, her voice was steady. Unlike her pulse.
‘I will. I swear I will. I’ll tell him I’m married just as soon as we get back.’
In a fortnight!
‘I can just see him.’ Scorn dripped from Felice’s voice. ‘He’ll be sitting there with a frown creasing up his forehead, his chin jutting out, and