‘The dinner party on Saturday night…Did you do a final count of all the acceptances and inform Moira how many were coming?’
Hating the deliberately formal tone he’d adhered to all morning—as if she were truly just someone who worked for him and had never been remotely anything else—Georgia briefly licked her lips before turning in her chair to reply.
His handsome face was unsmiling, yet no less compelling for the frown that creased his brow. Keir’s annoyance was tangible.
‘It’s imperative that everything is right,’ he interjected. ‘Some of the “great and the good” from the local community are coming, and this is the first big dinner we’ve held at Glenteign since work on the gardens was completed. Apart from the curiosity and criticism that that in itself will provoke, you can be sure they’ll be scrutinising everything in the house with a fine tooth comb…From the silver plate decorating— the dining table to what kind of tissue paper we put in the bathrooms!’
‘There’s no need to worry. Everything’s been arranged. I got up early to go over it all with Moira before she went into Dundee shopping this morning, and— we’ll do a final check again tomorrow.’
‘And did you remember to tell her that the Dean likes his beef very rare?’
Georgia had already told him yesterday that she had. Now it was her turn to frown. She got the distinct feeling that he was spoiling for a fight. Was it solely because she hadn’t been as warm as she could have been earlier, when he’d embraced her in the kitchen, or was it something else?
‘I did. I told you—there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘I think I should be the judge of that!’
‘What’s the matter? Is your burn causing you pain? Why don’t you let me take a look at it and change the dressing?’
On her feet before he could answer, Georgia walked straight over to his desk, despite his expression— being less than welcoming and even seemed to be warning her off. A wave of deep unhappiness descended. She didn’t want them to continue on for the rest of the day like this…like sworn enemies either side of a high wall. They had shared something wonderful— yesterday…something Georgia would always remember. She hoped that Keir would too, after she’d left Glenteign.
‘It’s fine.’ He held up his hand to indicate that she stay where she was, his firm jaw clenched ominously tight. ‘Why don’t you just get back to work? I really don’t need you to fuss over me!’
‘Why are you being like this? I thought that—’
‘You thought that because you let me seduce you, you— should now be receiving some kind of special treatment?’
Georgia could hardly believe what she was hearing. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and hurt. ‘I thought nothing of the kind! And I didn’t “let” you seduce me! It was entirely mutual…you know it was.’
Holding her gaze for long seconds, Keir finally turned his face away with a muttered expletive under his breath. ‘Then why did you push me away earlier? As if my very touch burned you?’ he demanded.
In the deep recesses of his mind Keir despised himself for allowing his acute sense of rejection to get the better of him. But when Georgia had not responded— with the affection he’d desired, and had instead deliberately moved away, it had catapulted him right back to the centre of his childhood pain. Both his parents had been past masters at rejection.
Elise Strachan had been affectionate one minute and cold as ice the next, and when drunk had often pushed him and Robbie away. And if either of the boys had hurt themselves in any way, instead of comforting— them, his father would admonish them with, ‘You need to learn how to take a few hard knocks…stop snivelling and toughen up!’This from the age of three…
‘Your touch did burn me, Keir…But not in the way you think.’ Georgia’s hand came down on his arm, and he sensed her heat radiate right through the linen sleeve of his shirt so that his whole body became instantly inflamed with desire.
‘Then come here and kiss me!’
Suddenly Georgia found herself in Keir’s lap, and he was holding her face captive as his mouth plundered hers. The wildly addictive taste of him made her writhe and yearn for him to touch her the way he had touched her in bed yesterday.
Just as his hand found her breast beneath her silky top and hungrily cupped it, the loud ringing tones of the telephone made them both spring apart.
‘Stay right where you are.’ Breathing hard, Keir scrubbed a rueful hand round his jaw before reaching for the receiver.