Her dress was a lovely, feminine design, made of silk patterned in red and white swirls. It had little cap sleeves, balancing a low, sweetheart neckline which left a hint of cleavage on display. The tightly fitting bodice was styled in a crossover ruche and the swingy skirt fell in graceful folds to knee length. Her bare legs and high-heeled strappy white sandals definitely made it a sexy dress, but not overtly so. She felt good in it, and Daisy needed to feel good about herself. Especially tonight.
Nevertheless, she was hit with a painful pang of total inadequacy when she paused to examine the overall result of her efforts in the mirror. She didn’t match the rich socialites Ethan was accustomed to mixing with, didn’t have their sophisticated polish or their perfect styling. The woman in the mirror might have been good enough for Carl Jamieson but Ethan Cartwright was light years ahead of Carl in the eligibility stakes.
It had been stupid of her to even try to pretend this was a date. She should be wearing her usual jeans, not caring how she looked because it wouldn’t change anything. For whatever reason, Ethan wanted her in his bed. She should probably greet him stark naked, save the bother of taking off her clothes, but everything within her recoiled from taking that line of brutal reality. At least making the most of herself was like putting on a brave face and she needed a brave face to cover up the nervous mess she was fast becoming.
With nothing left to do and not knowing when Ethan would arrive home, she sat in his home theatre and watched quiz shows on television, trying to keep her mind occupied by answering the questions put to the contestants.
She was ready for him.
As ready as she was ever going to be.
CHAPTER TEN
FOR Ethan, it had been a hectic end to the week with clients rearranging their investment portfolios after the share price for the Redback Mining Company had skyrocketed. He was mentally fatigued by the time he finished up on Friday evening—later than he’d wanted to be with Daisy waiting for him at home. He settled into the driver’s seat of his BMW and closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to re-energise himself for the night ahead—a night he’d been looking forward to, impatient for—ever since Daisy had walked away from him.
No more walking away, he thought with grim satisfaction. He didn’t understand why she’d been so damned perverse about denying the natural progression of a relationship between them, but it didn’t matter now. He’d won the time he wanted with her, and from her brief note, it seemed she was not about to baulk at fulfilling her end of the deal.
The power of money.
In this instance he hated it.
But he was going to take what it had bought him—take everything that Daisy Donahue could give him.
Starting tonight.
He sucked in a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, opened his eyes and began the drive home.
Over the past few weeks he’d kept up his usual social life, attending a few A-list parties, going to a couple of race meetings with Mickey, the regular games nights with the guys, holding Sunday afternoon tennis parties now that his court was ready for action. He’d actually been curious to see if any of the women he met raised a spark of interest in him—anything that might divert or supplant this obsession he had with Daisy Donahue. As absurd as it was, a businesslike little note from her gave him more of a buzz than anything else.
And despite his fatigue, he felt a buzz of anticipation growing as he drove out of the city centre, heading towards Hunters Hill. The peak-hour traffic had already thinned so the journey was not frustratingly long. It was just on six-thirty when he turned the BMW into his driveway and it gave him a sweet sense of pleasure to see Daisy’s car was parked at the front steps.
She was here…waiting for him.
He drove down the side of the house to the garage, which was now in a usable state. Was Daisy listening for him to arrive? How was she feeling about losing her freedom to him? Ethan couldn’t imagine her totally giving up the challenging attitude which had made winning her so compelling. The little brown sparrow had the heart of a lion.
Excitement zinged through him as he alighted from his car and strode towards the back entrance to the house. The wall of glass which gave a wide view of the harbour from the dining area and kitchen also gave a direct view inside. He halted in surprise when he caught sight of Daisy standing by the opened oven door, checking the steaming contents of a casserole dish, giving them a stir with a wooden spoon.
She was cooking him a meal?
His gaze swept the island bench. She’d laid out predinner nibbles, as well. And her hair was down, falling around her shoulders in a shiny, touch-inviting curtain instead of scrunched up in a ponytail. Pleasure welled up in Ethan. He hadn’t expected to be welcomed like this.