But trying to keep Charlie occupied at the same time—until she’d had a brainwave—had slowed her down a lot. The brainwave had been to introduce Charlie to Brett. They’d hit it off immediately.
Her other sticking point with the paintings had been the generous amount she’d already been paid—Damien had simply paid the money into her account without consulting her.
The result was she felt honour-bound to either finish the job or pay the money back. But Brett still had some treatment to go through...
All this, though, she reasoned as she pulled on a blue cardigan over her shirt and jeans, was minor compared to the other inner havoc she’d experienced. The lonely nights when he was only a few steps away from her—that knowledge had kept her tossing and turning.
The lonely nights when she had no idea where he was—or who he was with.
The frisson that ran though her every time she walked through the dining room and recalled their first meeting and that passionate embrace. Recalled the feel of him, the taste of him, his wandering touch that had lit a fuse of sensation within her—if he had a problem with the lounge, her nemesis was the dining room, the memory had never gone away...
And now this, she thought.
A hard, bright, difficult Damien who’d ordered her up to his study as if she were a schoolgirl. A room she hadn’t been in since the night Charlie...don’t even think about it, she warned herself.
Despite the stern warning to herself, she stood outside the study for a couple of moments, trying to compose herself. Then she knocked and went in. Tottie followed her.
He was lounging behind his desk. There was a silver tray with a coffee pot and two cups on the desk. The windows were open on an unusually warm spring night and there was the sound and the salty air of the sea wafting in.
‘Ah,’ Damien said. ‘I see you’ve brought your reinforcement.’
Harriet pushed her hair behind her ears. ‘If you don’t want her here—’
‘Of course I don’t mind her being here,’ he said irritably. ‘She is my dog. Sit down.’
Harriet looked around and froze. There was no longer the settee where they had... She stopped that thought in its tracks. Instead there were two elegant chairs covered in navy leather.
‘You... I...’ She turned back to Damien. ‘I mean...nothing.’ She swallowed and pulled one of the chairs up but was unable to stop herself from blushing a bright pink as she sat down. Tottie arranged herself at her feet.
Damien steepled his fingers beneath his chin and studied her meditatively. ‘You think I should have kept it, the settee? As a memorial of some kind?’
Harriet’s blush deepened but she said, ‘No. I mean—’ she gestured ‘—it was entirely up to you. What did you want to see me about?’
He stared at her then said abruptly, ‘What are we going to do?’
‘Do?’ Harriet blinked.
‘I hesitate to remind you, Harriet Livingstone, but that’s exactly what you said to me once before in highly similar circumstances. The day we first met here.’
Her eyes widened.
‘I asked you what we were going to do and you repeated “do” as if—as if nothing had ever happened between us or, if it had, it meant nothing,’ he said savagely.