Bought for His Bed. Kate Hardy
Читать онлайн книгу.
I’ll try not to get in your way at all, and if there’s anything I can do to repay you, I will.’
It sounded false even as she said it—because what could she do, penniless as she was, to repay him? But her pride demanded she make the offer.
He didn’t answer, and the silence stretched beyond the normal length. Startled, she looked up. He was watching her, grey eyes like polished steel, intent and probing.
Something hot and reckless that had been smouldering deep inside her burst into flame, burning into the barriers she’d erected against him. And then she realised what she’d said.
Appalled, she thought, Surely he doesn’t think—? Surely he can’t—?
Oh, why did she have to blush every time she got embarrassed?
She stumbled into speech. ‘I don’t mean—that is, I’m not offering—’
‘Yourself?’ The word hung in the air between them.
Fleur crimsoned. ‘Yes. I mean, no, I’m not…’
He suddenly laughed. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and that strange intensity vanished. ‘I was teasing. It’s probably just as well you didn’t have brothers—they’d have made your life a misery.’
‘I’d have learned how to deal with them,’ she returned tartly, feeling a total fool.
He grinned. ‘Probably.’ He glanced across the lawn, and said, ‘Ah, here’s Susi with lunch. I suggest we discuss the state of the world while we eat and drink, and then I think you probably should go back inside. Dr King was very firm about not too much exercise and as little exposure to the sun as possible.’
Susi was a large, comfortable-looking woman who looked at her closely when Luke introduced her as the housekeeper. Something about her gaze set Fleur’s teeth on edge, until the big woman relaxed into smiles and offered her hand in a hearty shake.
‘On Fala’isi we introduce staff,’ Luke said when she’d left them. ‘Here everyone is related, and they can usually tell you to an exact degree the degree of relationship.’
‘That must be lovely,’ she said quietly.
‘You sound as though you don’t have much close family.’
She moved uncomfortably. ‘A father in Australia,’ she admitted. ‘And at least one half-sibling, I’ve been told. No one else.’
The corners of his beautifully chiselled mouth lifted in a wry smile. “The thing about relatives is that they have a vested interest in every aspect of your life and an opinion on everything you do.’
Fleur remembered the nurse’s comment that they’d thought his new house meant a marriage. ‘I suppose there are disadvantages to everything, but that seems a minor one compared to the advantages. How did everyone get to be related?’
He told her of the ancestor who’d landed on Fala’isi only to find it almost depopulated by diseases brought by Europeans. His description of that first wild seafarer’s forced marriage to the only surviving child of the paramount chief’s family fascinated her. The story—sometimes brutal, sometimes unexpectedly lightened by flashes of compassion and kindness—was utterly compelling.
Finally he said, ‘I have to go out in a few minutes, but we’ll meet for a drink before dinner.’
He got to his feet, and once again Fleur realised how tall he was—a naturally dominant man, lean and big, who moved with the powerful litheness of a predator at the top of the food chain.
She took a deep breath and stood up, too, holding herself desperately erect, but when she took her first step she managed to sabotage herself by stumbling against the leg of her chair.
Like the predator she’d likened him to, he moved fast, his hand fastening onto her arm and holding her upright. His closeness stirred her physically and in other, more subtle ways—she wanted to lean against him, to absorb some of that strength and power, to let him—
Alarm bells clanging in her mind, she thought desperately, Get out of here! Now!
She flinched and tried to step free, making a soft sound of dismay when she found that her legs refused to obey her brain’s command.
‘I think probably the best way to do this is for me to carry you,’ Luke said judicially, and, ignoring her shocked objection, he picked her up as effortlessly as if she’d been a child and strode into her bedroom.
Fleur wanted to command him to put her down, but her bones were too heavy and she felt waves of tiredness wash over her. For the first time since her father had left her and her mother, she felt a sense of utter security. She might not approve of Luke Chapman’s ruthlessness, but she felt utterly safe in his arms, her fuzzy brain accepting him as though it had been waiting for him for years.
‘I’m fine,’ she blurted.
He didn’t put her down until they reached the bed. ‘Rest until later in the afternoon,’ he commanded, looking down at her with complete confidence that she’d do exactly as he ordered. ‘And in case you feel like doing something stupid—walking out, for instance—the staff know that you’re staying. You wouldn’t get far.’
Incredulously, Fleur lifted her head off the pillows to meet his uncompromising eyes. ‘I hope you’re not insinuating that I’m a prisoner here.’
‘I’m not insinuating anything,’ he returned, assessing her with an enigmatic gaze. ‘I’m telling you that the staff know that you’re not fit to leave, so they won’t let you. Only a Leo would call that being taken prisoner.’
She said irritably, ‘I’ll bet you’re a Scorpio.’
‘You’re an astrologer?’ he asked with a hint of cynicism.
‘No, but I know a Scorpio when I meet one. You all have that innate arrogance.’
He laughed. ‘I draw the line at you telling me that I share some of my genetic traits with one-twelfth of the population. My mother says it’s a Chapman characteristic.’
‘She should know,’ Fleur said crisply.
Luke found himself admiring her. According to the information Valo had pulled together she was penniless after her mother’s long illness, her future without prospects, yet although she wasn’t yet up to par she was full of fight. Her cool, still pride, oddly at variance with that mane of red-gold hair, both amused and touched him.
‘Are your parents here?’ she asked remotely.
He heard the rapid chill in the voice that should be slow and warm, with its lazy, sensuous undertone that made him think of cool sheets on a hot summer night…
‘No,’ he said, irritated by the reaction from a part of his body that had no right to be responding. ‘They’re holidaying in the Caribbean. If they were here, you’d have been staying with them.’
Fleur felt as though she’d been put firmly in her place. A nuisance.
Chapter Three
ONCE he’d gone Fleur was sure her roiling mass of emotions would prevent any rest, but now she was on that supremely comfortable bed sleep claimed her with voracious speed.
She woke to the seductive cooing of doves, their tranquil notes floating on the drowsy air. Tropical scents—sweet, heavy, sharpened with the all-pervading perfume of vanilla—summoned a long, slow sigh to her lips, followed by a wavering smile. Not since before her mother’s condition had rapidly worsened a year ago had she slept like that.
How strange, she thought, listening to the muted roar of the waves on the reef. In spite of everything—her prickly reaction to her arrogant host, her experience of living rough—she could sleep as soundly as though she’d reverted back to her childhood, when her world had been bright and shining and seamless.
If