Rival Attractions & Innocent Secretary(20)

When Oliver shook his head, Charlotte stared at him. Didn't he trust her to do the job properly?

'I don't think it's a good idea for you to come to an empty house,  especially one that's so remote,' he told her calmly. When she started  to object, he said quietly, 'Yes, perhaps I am overreacting a little,  but you forget, I'm from London. Few agents there can forget that Suzy  Lamplugh disappeared after ostensibly showing a prospective client  around an empty property.'

Charlotte stared at him, confused by the conflicting emotions she was  experiencing. He was so compassionate, so caring, and she was so unused  to this kind of protective concern from anyone, least of all from a man.

'But I shan't be showing anyone around,' she told him when she had got  herself under control and subdued the sudden rush of helpless pleasure  his concern brought.

'No, but you will be here alone. I'm glad you've taken Sophy on. Not  just for her sake, but with two of you working together it should be  much safer for you both.'

Charlotte opened her mouth to correct his misapprehension that she took  Sophy with her when showing prospective customers around properties, and  then closed it again.

Half an hour later, when they had completed a tour of the gardens, and  Oliver offered to drive her back to town, Charlotte found herself  agreeing easily and with a sudden sharp, exhilarating rush of pleasure.

She wanted to be with him, she recognised as he opened the car door for  her. She wanted to be with him; she wanted to have him looking at her  the way he was doing right now, smiling into her eyes and making her  feel as though she were something fragile and precious, as though …

Stop it, she warned herself. Just because he's being friendly, it  doesn't mean that …  That what? That he found her attractive … desirable …   What on earth was she thinking? Of course he didn't.

He had kissed her, had held her. But he was a Londoner, a city dweller,  sophisticated and worldly-kisses were common currency in his world and  meant nothing.

Nothing at all.





CHAPTER SEVEN


'IT WAS generous of you to suggest to Mrs Birtles that she appoint us as joint agents,' Charlotte said hesitantly.

She had been conscious of the occasional glances Oliver gave her as he  drove, and her own conscience prodded her now into thanking him for what  he had done.

'Not generous at all,' he replied promptly. 'Just good business  practice.' As though he had felt her stiffen and withdraw from him, he  added easily, 'You've got entirely the wrong idea about me, Charlotte. I  have no intention of trying to usurp your place in the business  community, but this area is growing fast, and I honestly believe there  is room for both of us-'                       
       
           



       

'You aren't planning to stay here,' Charlotte broke in. 'You just want  to drain the area dry while there's a boom on, and then you'll move  out.'

'No.' His response was sharp and decisive. 'It's true that originally  when my partner and I decided to go our separate ways I wasn't sure if I  could afford the luxury of a country office as well as one in London,  but I like it here. I've decided to sell out my share of the London  office. I know someone who's keen to buy me out-for a very generous sum.  In fact, that's one of the reasons I wanted-' He broke off to overtake a  man on a bike, and Charlotte wondered what he had been about to say.

'I'm tired of London life,' he told her when he had successfully passed  the wobbling bike. 'I've reached a stage in my life when I want to put  down roots, establish a firm base.'

Marry and have children, Charlotte wondered as her heart suddenly  thumped frantically. But of course those were questions she could not  ask. Instead she returned to a subject which was still plaguing her a  little.

'I'm not sure I've got the expertise to deal with a property like Mrs Birtles'.'

'Don't you want to do it?' Oliver asked her.

Charlotte stared at him and then said firmly, 'Of course I do, but I  felt I ought to be honest with you … I don't think it will be easy to  sell. Even with the influx of London buyers. Had you thought of any kind  of valuation?'

'Yes,' he told her, and named a sum that made her gasp a little.

'As much as that?'

'More,' he told her crisply, 'if it was sold to a group enterprise.'

'A group enterprise?' Charlotte faltered.

'Mm. You know, one of these conglomerates that specialise in turning  large old properties into desirable smaller units. The fact that it  isn't listed would make the necessary planning permission easier to  acquire, of course.'

'You mean destroy the house and build an estate,' Charlotte fired up  immediately. Suddenly all her pleasure in his company, in his treatment  of her as an equal in matters of business, had turned to ashes in her  mouth. She had thought that, like her, he had felt a genuine desire to  find exactly the right buyer for the house-someone who would love and  cherish it as it deserved to be loved and cherished-and now here he was  casually talking about its destruction.

How wrong she had been. She could have sworn as she watched him gently  smoothing his palm against the polished wood of the carved banister that  he had felt the same way about the house as she had done, but it had  all been just an act.

'That's sacrilege,' she told him bitterly, and then added, 'That was why  you asked Mrs Birtles if it was listed, wasn't it? Oh, God! Stop the  car!' she demanded furiously.

'What?'

'I want to get out-out of your car, and out of any joint selling  agreement. I thought you felt as I do, that you wanted to find the right  purchaser for the house, when instead-'

'I do,' he interrupted her ruthlessly, 'but you seemed to be forgetting  that our first responsibility isn't to the house but to Mrs Birtles.  It's obvious that she is having difficulty maintaining the house now  that her husband is dead. It's her sole investment.'

Charlotte blinked at him, suddenly and shamingly aware of how much she  had missed. She had seen the house and fallen in love with it, but now  he made her remember the small touches of shabbiness she had seen but  not really registered.

'I suppose you're saying that it will be much easier to find a conglomerate buyer than a private one.'

'Yes,' he agreed emotionlessly. 'But that doesn't mean that a private  buyer isn't possible. You know, you'd find life much less fraught if you  learned to trust people a little, Charlotte. You're always so ready to  believe the worst of others.'

A dark flush stained her skin. His accusation was justified, but that didn't make hearing it any easier.

'I'm sorry if I misjudge you,' she said stiffly.

'Are you?'The look he gave her made her feel uncomfortable, guilty in  some way. 'I've got to go up to London for a couple of days, to finalise  things with the buyer of my agency there. While I'm there I'll have a  word with a couple of people I know-see if they know of anyone who might  be interested in the house, strictly off the record.'

'I suppose the best thing will be to auction it,' Charlotte suggested tiredly.

Oliver had ripped the veils of naïveté from her eyes. Every word he had  said to her had been true. They did owe it to their client to get the  best possible price for her, but she could not bear to think of the  house being destroyed.                       
       
           



       

'Possibly,' Oliver agreed, and then changed the subject, saying, 'I was  wondering if it would be convenient for me to move my things into your  place tonight, then I could get an early start for London in the  morning.'

There was no real reason for her to object. It was crazy to feel  suddenly as though the ground was falling away under her feet, as though  she wanted to protest that things were happening far too fast for her,  that she needed more time …

'The men started work on the kitchen today,' she warned him. 'Everywhere will be in a bit of a mess.'

'I only want somewhere to sleep tonight. And I'll be gone early in the morning.'

They were approaching the town now, and after she had said quietly,  'Very well, then, if you're sure you still want to go ahead,' he gave  her a sharp look, but said nothing for a few seconds as he negotiated  the traffic.

'What will you do about your car?' he asked her as he swung into the  empty town square. There was no market today, and plenty of car parking  spaces.

'I'll ring the garage and see if they can keep it going for me until the new one is delivered,' she told him wryly.

'Mmm. Well, you're perfectly welcome to use this while I'm in London, if you'd care to. My insurance does cover other drivers.'

Use this? Charlotte stared at him, unable to believe her ears, and then  said shakily, 'Good heavens, I couldn't possibly. What if anything  should happen to it?' She looked in awe at the immaculate upholstery and  gleaming bodywork.