Problem was she’d probably come to before he got her to the limousine. How long did a faint last? And she’d undoubtedly throw a scene at the hotel before he could take her to his suite.
No, it was a mad idea.
A sheikh might get away with it.
Or a buccaneer of old who was captain of his own ship.
Not Ethan Cartwright in this modern world of political correctness. He would have to answer for his actions.
Nevertheless, he was almost at the exit to the marquee when Mickey caught up with him. ‘Hey, Ethan. You doing a runner with the girl?’
It stopped him. He turned to his friend whose face was alight with fascinated curiosity. ‘She fainted. I have to get her to a chair.’
‘You’ve passed a whole bunch of them.’
‘Distracted,’ Ethan muttered. He hadn’t been aware of anything except the woman in his arms—the feelings she generated in him.
‘Over here,’ Mickey directed, steering him towards one as Daisy stirred in his arms, her lovely full breasts swelling against the wall of his chest as she gulped in air.
Ethan told himself his brain needed a blast of oxygen, too. As much as he wanted to hang onto Daisy Donahue she was going to rip into him the moment she had regained her wits. He’d be enemy number one for causing her to lose her job, regardless of whether or not it had been a good position for a person like her to have. And freeing her from it so she could be with him was not an argument she was about to appreciate. Somehow he would have to make her see him as her saviour instead of the black dog of disaster.
Daisy struggled to regain her strength and her wits. Never in her whole life had she fainted and to have Ethan Cartwright take advantage of this momentary weakness, manhandling her even more than before, was the absolute pits. At least she wasn’t being carried by him any more. He’d put her on a chair and was sitting beside her. Despite the fact that he’d shoved her head down to her knees, it was still swimming, and he had his arm around her in support, which she probably needed, though she hated needing anything from him. He’d just destroyed the lifeline to keeping her parents in their home.
‘Fetch her a glass of water, will you, Mickey?’
His voice upset her even further, loaded with concern. After the event. No concern when it really mattered.
‘Sure. And here’s her hat. It dropped off on the way.’
Total indignity on top of everything else!
By the time the glass of water came, she was steady enough to lift her head and sip it. ‘Thanks,’ she muttered to the man who’d brought it—Mickey Bourke, another A-list bachelor with no worries about where his next dollar was coming from.#p#分页标题#e#
‘I’ll look after her now,’ Ethan Cartwright said, dismissing his friend.
‘Right!’ Mickey Bourke grinned at him. ‘Nothing like seizing the day! Go for it, man!’
Seizing the day? The phrase scraped over all the jagged edges in Daisy’s mind. Her day, her job, a secure future for her parents had all been wrecked by Ethan Cartwright going for what he wanted. She felt like throwing the glass of water in his face, sober up some of the blind ego that had completely overlooked what he’d been doing to her. But what good would that achieve?
Despair squeezed her heart.
‘Are you feeling better, Daisy?’ he asked caringly.
Nothing could make her feel better. ‘Well enough for you to remove your arm,’ she answered tersely, sitting up straight and stiffening her shoulders to show him his support was no longer needed. Or welcome.
‘Okay, but you should keep sitting for a while. Maybe you should eat something. Did you have any lunch?’
No, she hadn’t, which might have contributed to her fainting, although she was used to running on empty in this job. Except she didn’t have a job any more. Which was all his fault.
She turned to face him, anger spurting off her tongue. ‘It’s a bit late to start caring about me, Mr Cartwright. The damage is done.’
He grimaced, but there was no regret in the green eyes boring into hers. ‘Lynda Twiggley was doing you a damage, making you bow to her tyranny.’
‘I could manage that. If you hadn’t interfered, I’d still have my job.’
‘You didn’t like it,’ he said with certainty.
‘What’s like got to do with it?’ she cried in exasperation. ‘It was the best paid job I’ve ever had and I need the money. You have no idea how much I need it. You’ve probably never known a moment’s worry over money in your entire life.’
His mouth tilted into an ironic smile. ‘Actually I carry the burden of worrying about money all the time.’