Savage Awakening(9)

'Gee, thanks.'

Her sardonic response was hardly unexpected and he turned to face her  again with weary compliance. 'OK,' he said. 'That was uncalled-for. You  both thought the house was empty. I know that. But, just for the record,  when I first came out of the showroom and saw you across the car park,  the idea of asking you to work for me was far from my mind.'

And that was true, he conceded, half amused by the admission. But with  the sun adding gold lights to the coppery beauty of her hair, she'd been  instantly recognisable. And, although the prospect of offering her a  job had given him a reason to speak to her, he might have done so  anyway.

Or not.

Her sudden decision to leave the doorway and cross the room towards him  disrupted his thought processes. For a crazy moment, he wondered if  something in his face had given her the impression that he was attracted  to her and he moved almost automatically out of her way.

He realised his mistake when she cast him a pitying glance and reached  instead for the two mugs he'd filled with hot water. With casual  expertise, she spooned the two used tea bags into the waste bin and then  said drily, 'I don't like strong tea. Do you?'

Matt felt furious with himself as he shook his head. For heaven's sake,  he was doing everything he could to reinforce the opinion she probably  already had of him. Cursing under his breath, he opened the fridge and  pulled out a carton of milk. He set it down on the counter beside her  rather more heavily than was wise and predictably some spilled onto the  marble surface. He swore again. 'Sorry.'                       
       
           



       

Fliss added milk to both cups. Then, cradling hers between her palms, she said softly, 'Did I do something wrong?'

Matt felt a wave of weariness envelop him again. 'No,' he said flatly.  'It's not you. It's me. Like I said before, I'm not finding it easy  to-to interact with people.'

Fliss frowned. 'Is that why you've moved out of London?' she asked, and then coloured. 'Oh, sorry. It's nothing to do with me.'

'No.' He conceded the point. 'But it's the truth.' He picked up his own  cup and swallowed a mouthful of tea. 'I needed some space. London offers  very little of that.'

She absorbed this, her eyes on the beige liquid in her cup, and, against  his will, he noticed how long her lashes were. For someone with red  hair, they were unusually dark, too, but lighter at the tips, as if  bleached by the sun.

His jaw tightened. As if it mattered to him. She could be a raving  beauty, with a figure to die for, and he wouldn't be interested. He  wondered what she'd say if he told her that.

'I suppose Diane's parents said this house was for sale,' she ventured  now, and Matt accepted that she deserved some explanation.

'No,' he assured her. 'As you might have guessed, Diane isn't in favour  of me moving out of London. I found the house on a property website. It  sounded exactly what I was looking for so I bought it.'

'Sight unseen?' She was obviously surprised.

'Well, I had Joe Francis, an architect friend of mine, look at it,' he  said, a little defensively. 'And I did speak to the Chesneys. They  seemed to think it was OK.'

'And what do you think, now that you've moved in?'

'I like it.' He smiled in spite of himself. 'I'll like it better, of  course, when it feels less like a mausoleum and more like a home.'

Fliss glanced about her. 'Colonel Phillips didn't think it was a mausoleum.'

'No, well, he probably kept the place furnished.' He paused, wondering  how much he should tell her. 'That's what I was doing in Westerbury.  Buying some furniture that won't look out of place in these rooms.'

'From Harry Gilchrist,' she said, and Matt quirked an eyebrow.

'You know him?'

'He lives in the village,' she said regretfully. 'I suppose he recognised you.'

Matt finished his tea and set his empty mug down on the counter. 'Did he  ever,' he said, pulling a wry face. 'Oh, well, I guess a week is better  than nothing.'

'You might be surprised.' Fliss finished her own tea and, to his  surprise, moved to the sink to wash up the cups. 'Most of the villagers  tend to mind their own business.'

'Do they?'

Matt spoke almost absently, his eyes unwillingly drawn to the vulnerable  curve of her nape. She'd tugged her hair to one side and secured it  with a tortoiseshell clip, and the slender start of her spine was  exposed.

He wasn't thinking, or he would have looked away, but instead his eyes  moved down over the crossed braces of her dungarees. A narrow waist  dipped in above the provocative swell of her bottom, the loose trousers  only hinting at the lushness of her hips and thighs. Her legs were  longer then he'd imagined, her ankles trim below the cuffs of her  trousers.

'What do you mean?'

Her words arrested whatever insane visions he had been having, and he  shook his head as if that would clear his brain. For God's sake, what  was he doing? And what was she talking about? He was damned if he could  remember.

'I beg your pardon?'

His apology was automatic, but her expression as she turned towards him  fairly simmered with resentment. 'You said, Do they?' she reminded him  tightly. 'What did you mean?'

Matt didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. For a moment  there, he'd been entertaining himself with the thought that he was just  the same as any other man. Of course, he wasn't, but she didn't know  that. And she probably thought he was leering at her like any other  member of his sex.

'You know,' she said flatly, as he struggled to answer her, 'when you  said Diane hadn't told you a lot about me, you were lying, weren't you?  Have the decency to admit it.'                       
       
           



       

'You're wrong.' Matt blew out a breath. 'Whatever I said, it had nothing  to do with anything Diane had said about you. But, OK, she didn't tell  me that you were still at school when you got pregnant. However, that  has nothing to do with me.'

'Damn right.'

There was a catch in her voice now, and Matt silently cursed Diane for  getting him into this. 'Right,' he said, folding his arms across his  chest. 'So, shall we put that behind us and start again?'

'Whatever.' She finished drying the cups and moved towards the door.  'I'd better be going. Amy will be home from school now and she's quite a  handful for my father.'

'I'll bet.' He kept his mind firmly on what she was saying and not on  the curling strands of red-gold hair that had escaped the clip and were  bobbing beside her cheek. He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a  moment, relishing the pain as a distraction. 'You-er-you wouldn't still  consider working for me, I suppose?'

She halted, but she kept her back to him as she spoke. 'Doing what, exactly?'

Matt knew an almost overwhelming urge to touch her then. She suddenly  seemed so vulnerable, so alone. Which was ridiculous really, considering  she had a father and a daughter who probably thought the world of her.  Yet he sensed that he'd hurt her and he didn't know how to repair the  damage.

He thought about asking what she used to do for Colonel Phillips, but  that would sound as if he was being flippant and he couldn't have that.  Instead, he prevaricated. 'Whatever needs doing,' he said. 'I won't  expect you to do anything I wouldn't do myself.' He paused. 'I guess  what I need is help, that's all. Just a few days a week if that suits  you.'

Fliss shrugged. 'I can do that,' she said. Then she half turned, looking at him over one creamy shoulder. 'With one proviso.'

'Which is?'

'I won't work for you when Diane comes to live here,' she said. 'This is only a temporary arrangement-'

'Diane won't be coming to live here,' he broke in impulsively, and he saw the look of disbelief that crossed her face.

'But she's your fiancée!'

'She's my-what?' Matt stared at her. 'She told you that?'

'Yes.' She looked uncertain. 'She is, isn't she?'

Matt allowed a sound of frustration to escape him, realising he couldn't  deny they had had a relationship. 'We-she and I-we have been involved,  yeah,' he admitted unwillingly.

A faint smile touched her lips. 'I thought so,' she said, and he had to  stifle the urge to explain that the situation-his situation-had changed.

'That still doesn't alter the fact that she's not going to be living  here,' he said instead, more forcefully than was necessary. 'Diane's a  city person. She works in London. It wouldn't be feasible for her to  move down here.'

Fliss held up her hand as if to stop him. 'Not immediately, I understand that-'

'Not at all,' he said flatly, and knew he was being far too obdurate. He took a deep breath. 'What do you think?'

'I think that's your business-'

'I mean, about the job,' he said grimly, not altogether sure she wasn't mocking him, and she shrugged.

'When would you want me to start?'

Matt's initial reaction was to say, How does tomorrow suit you? But  tomorrow was Saturday and he doubted she'd want to start then.