Susan Carlisle - One Summer At The Lake

Zoe turned her head, her mouth open to produce a strong rebuttal, her eyes connected with his glowing dark gaze. Her biggest fear had been him guessing the way she felt, and now he had. So what, she thought despairingly, was the point denying it?

‘Don’t you find it exhausting, Zoe?’ he asked softly.

She stood there mutely staring at him. Inside she was dying of sheer mortification. This was her boss saying he knew she secretly lusted after him. What was she meant to say to that?

For a split second his resolve wavered. She looked so pale, so vulnerable. But it only wavered briefly. Another month like this one and he’d be a basket case.

‘I can only assume you’ve had some problems in the past with female staff and…crushes, but I promise you’re safe from me.’

He didn’t want to be safe from her.

‘Good to know, but you’re still sacked.’

She flinched. The bastard had said it the way someone remarked on the weather. Somewhere deep inside her, rage stirred. ‘Because I don’t fancy you.’

‘If that were true, there would be no problem.’

Her chest swelled as she flung him a look of withering contempt. ‘Even if you were right I have my own rules, too. And the first one is that I never have sex with a man I don’t respect. Believe you me, that rules you out, you contemptuous little snake!’

He gave a low throaty chuckle.

‘Why didn’t you just sack me on that first day?’ That would have been bad but this was worse. Thinking her job was secure, she’d allowed herself to relax, she’d allowed herself to sit here thinking stupid ridiculous thoughts about him, imagining that they might even…Stupid…stupid…stupid! She was so angry with herself she wanted to scream. She took a deep breath and slung a look of loathing his way.

‘I didn’t sack you at that point because my company is in the middle of some sensitive negotiations which could mean a lot of…’ He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. ‘You are not interested in the whys, but the success of this deal will mean something in the region of a thousand jobs over a five-year period.’

‘What’s that got to do with me?’

‘It’s about protecting my company’s brand. Any negative publicity would send the clients running for the hills, and the story of me sacking a woman because she used my property to host a charity fund-raiser would be the worst-possible PR.’

Trying to think beyond the static buzz in her head, a combination of anger and panic, she only really processed one word in two of what he was saying. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Because you are an innocent.’

How long would her savings last…a month, two…? After that what was she going to do?

‘I really hate you.’ Her snarl was shaky but filled with venom and her eyes gleamed with loathing as she glared up at him. She grabbed at a side table, afraid that her shaking knees were about to give way. This body blow on top of the events of that afternoon had taken a physical as well as mental toll.

‘Calm down. There’s no need to react this way. It’s not as though you enjoy the job.’

Calm down? What planet did this man live on?

‘We can’t all do jobs we enjoy. Some of us do jobs because we need to survive.’ This job had been her plan A, and she didn’t have a plan B. She wiped her brow as she felt the panic crowding in on her again.

‘Will you stop acting as though you’re a heroine in a Victorian melodrama and I’m the villain?’

She flashed him a look of sheer incredulity and shook her head. He made it sound as though she was overreacting. ‘If the black hat fits…?’

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes he placed his hands on her shoulders, exerting enough pressure to force her back down onto the sofa. ‘If you’d stop for a minute and let me explain. I’m not throwing you out anywhere. I’m suggesting that you move to the end of the drive, that’s all.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘The gatehouse.’ The solution had been staring him in the face all along! Now that he had had his eureka moment, he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t thought about it earlier.

‘The one you’ve just decorated?’

The building in question had not been included in the initial refurbishment of the estate because there had apparently been some planning dispute over a proposed extension, but this had recently been resolved. Zoe had not been involved with the renovation but the builders had packed up and left a couple of weeks ago and the team of decorators had literally finished the previous day.

‘If I’m not working for you how can—?’

‘I’m suggesting you and the children move into the gatehouse, pay a nominal rent…’

‘With what?’ No job meant no money, which meant…Oh, God, she couldn’t think what it meant. She was no longer in a position to sleep on a friend’s couch until she sorted things. The twins needed a home and stability—they needed a guardian who didn’t go around losing her job!

I am such a loser.

Well, if she was a loser, he was a total bastard!

‘I have a friend who has bought an art gallery. She is looking for someone to front it. I have spoken to her about you…’

Polly’s astonished response when he had explained that his unsuitable housekeeper’s domestic situation meant he couldn’t simply let her go without providing some sort of safety net was still fresh in his mind.

‘Since when did you worry about dismissing someone who wasn’t up to the job, Isandro? And why are you going to so much trouble to help find the girl a job?’

She had accepted his explanation without question.

‘So this is about avoiding bad PR. What a relief. For a moment there—’ she laughed ‘—I thought you’d become a bleeding heart!’

‘She is happy to offer you a trial,’ Isandro told Zoe.

‘What makes you think I’d be any less terrible at running an art gallery than I am running a house?’ Zoe asked bitterly.

‘You are artistic.’

‘How would you know?’

‘Had you not been accepted on a fine arts degree course before your sister and her husband died?’

In the middle of a miserable sniff, Zoe lifted her incredulous glance to his face. ‘How did you know that?’

He shrugged and dropped his gaze. ‘Tom might have mentioned it.’

‘But why would your friend give me this job?’

‘I asked her.’

‘A permanent job?’

‘Very few things in life are permanent, but there would be a very good severance package,’ he told her smoothly. ‘Enough for you to pay your way through art college as you planned and employ childcare in the meantime. I understand they run an excellent foundation fine arts course on an evening basis at the local college.’

‘I don’t understand. Why would this woman pay me a—’ her nose wrinkled; what had he called it? ‘—severance package?’

‘She wouldn’t.’

Zoe shook her head as the confusion deepened.

‘I would.’

‘But I wouldn’t be working for you.’

‘Not as such,’ he conceded. ‘The point is, Zoe, the attraction is not one-sided. I want you in my bed and I am a man in a position to make my fantasies come true. You are my fantasy, Zoe.’

Things fell into place in her head with an almost audible clunk. She shot to her feet—no longer shaking, no longer terrified, just furious.

‘Let me get this straight. This job you’re talking about, it’s as…your mistress?’

He shrugged. ‘That’s an old-fashioned term.’

She stuck out her chin, her blue eyes sparkling with wrathful contempt. ‘I’m an old-fashioned girl.’ He had no idea how old-fashioned. ‘Though I suppose you think I should be flattered. Isn’t it a bit of a risk, though? We’ve never even slept together. How would you know that I’d be…any good in the bedroom?’