Maureen Child - Office Scandals - The Petrelli Heir / Gilded Secrets / An Inconvenient Affair

‘Let me.’ He paused, his hand above her own.

Izzy’s fingers tightened over the carrier handle. After a brief internal struggle she stepped back, tucking her hands into her pockets. After all, it was only the carrier she was relinquishing to him. To make a fuss would only serve to highlight the insecurities she was struggling to hide. Roman’s next comment suggested she wasn’t doing this very well.

‘I’m not trying to steal her, just helping.’

She knew he was looking at her but with her jaw set she stomped up the steps, her eyes trained on her feet. ‘Steal her over my dead body.’ She paused as she entered the hallway, unable to repress a startled admiring intake of breath.

‘This place must have quite a history. Is the panelling original?’

‘I wouldn’t know.’ His taste ran to the modern, and convenient. If they had been talking a private up-to-date gym, and the latest in computer technology, both items that this place lacked, Roman would have been interested.

‘But just think about all the people who have lived here over the centuries.’

‘I’m more interested in the plumbing, which is a bit basic. This way—the library is the second door on the left.’ He nodded and stood to one side to let her go ahead of him.

Izzy, who would have liked to linger in this magnificent space, followed his directions and found herself in another equally pleasing room. It was being warmed by a fire burning in the massive stone grate and was lined with a row of south-facing mullioned windows that filled it with light.

‘I thought nobody lived here,’ she said, staring at the book-filled shelves.

‘They came with the house.’ His gaze moved over the book-lined walls. It was actually quite a pleasant room. ‘Sit down, before you fall down.’

‘I’m …’ She responded to the pressure only because she couldn’t stop her knees from trembling.

She sat there, her arms primly folded in her lap, and watched as he set the baby carrier down carefully and strolled across the room to the console table where a tray of coffee and sandwiches had been placed.

He pushed down the plunger of the cafetière, turning his head to enquire, ‘Black or white?’

‘White, no sugar.’

He piled a plate with some sandwiches and carried them across to where she was sitting, along with her coffee.

Her skin, dotted with freckles that stood out clear against the pallor, had an almost transparent quality. ‘I don’t want to get blamed if you pass out.’

‘Are you going to stand over me while I drink this?’

‘Yes.’

Pursing her lips she picked up the china cup. ‘Anything for a quiet life.’

He laughed. ‘Not so that you’d notice … and a sandwich,’ he added when she put the cup back down.

Izzy slung him an irritated look, but she actually had three sandwiches, discovering she was starving. ‘Satisfied?’ she asked sarcastically as she pushed the plate away and sat back in her seat, folding one leg under herself. ‘Do you have to stand there like some guard dog?’

She kept her expression neutral as his narrowed dark eyes moved over her face, but it was a struggle.

He didn’t respond to her question, but his mouth did lift up at the corners as he flopped with languid grace into an armchair. Izzy felt the tension in her shoulders lessen as he stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed one ankle over the other. It was easy to feel at a disadvantage when he was towering over her.

She began to tap her toe on the polished wood floor as he set his elbows on the aged leather armrests.

‘Some people would call this kidnapping.’

‘A bit over the top, don’t you think?’ he drawled.

Her fury shifted up several notches as she folded her arms across her heaving chest. She sketched a smile and gave him a flat look.

‘Oh, yes, I’m definitely overreacting.’ The man was unbelievable, as well as being totally unscrupulous and manipulative.

His dark brows lifted. ‘The job is genuine. I offered it to you and you could have refused, but you took it.’ He rose in a graceful fluid motion and angled a questioning look at her face. ‘There was no coercion involved.’

Izzy wished he would stay in one place or at least keep sitting down; the man was like some prowling jungle cat, all restless energy and unpredictability. In some ways she would have felt more relaxed with the animal he reminded her of in the room rather than the man himself!

‘Genuine!’ She almost choked over the description. ‘But I wouldn’t have taken it if I’d known … known …’

‘That you’d be living with me?’

The helpful insertion drew a gasp of horror from Izzy. ‘Live with you?’ she echoed.

Roman laughed.

‘Or have you realised that this is too big a job for you?’

She struggled not to rise to the taunt and failed miserably. ‘I’m up to the job.’ It was her dream job and he knew it. She eyed him with seething dislike before squeezing her eyes closed as she made an attempt to regain some control of the situation and herself.

‘This is a totally preposterous idea.’ The tingling on her exposed nape made her open her eyes with a snap. Her radar had not misled her. He was close, too close, and crazily as she stared up into his deep-set, mesmerising eyes with those impossibly long lashes she wanted to step into his lean, hard body.

The effort not to made her shake, though she couldn’t be sure that was the only thing making her shake. The fact was, physically he was like a narcotic to her and she had a terrible suspicion that, like any addict, one taste and she’d need a regular fix.

She dragged her gaze from his mouth, where it had drifted. Don’t taste, or look .

‘I hoped I’d be able to like you because you’re Lily’s father, but—’

‘It is not necessary that you like your employer, and, speaking of Lily, it might be a good idea to keep your voice down if you don’t want to wake her.’ His sardonic mocking smile was briefly genuine as his glance touched the sleeping baby.

He was right, not that she’d admit it, but she did lower her voice as she snapped, ‘I’m not working for you, end of story. And as for live with you, I’d prefer to live with a snake …’ Izzy stopped. ‘You’re a cold, manipulative—’

‘That’s the façade. Deep down I’m soft and fluffy.’

She flung up her hands in a gesture of frustration and, fighting an urge to smile, sprang impetuously to her feet. She took a couple of steps towards the baby carrier before twisting back and facing him, her head thrown back, her eyes darkened to emotional navy as she glared at him.

‘Do you take anything seriously?’

As if a switch had been flicked his sardonic smile was gone. He said nothing while he watched her chestnut hair bounce and settle silkily around her shoulders, then took a deliberate step towards her.

Her feet wanted to shadow the action, but she forced herself to step forward, not back, determined not to allow herself to show … fear? No, that was the wrong word. What was she feeling? What were the emotions swirling through her bloodstream? Excitement, loathing … She lifted a hand to her head, the contradictory mix making her feel light-headed. It would serve him right if she fainted. But in reality the idea of showing any weakness in front of him was terrifying.

Izzy shook her head, tuning out the distracting internal dialogue to think past the buzz in her head.

‘I take being a father very seriously.’

His voice was low, almost soft, but the lack of emphasis only intensified the emotion behind the statement, causing Izzy to feel an irrational stab of guilt.

‘And I will not be sidelined or fobbed off.’

‘And I will not be pressured,’ she threw back. ‘This isn’t about you and what you want. It’s about what is best for Lily.’