Laura Martin - Dangerous Discovery

With a heavy heart, Estelle jerked open one of the drawers and prepared to pack, praying silently that she would get through the next few hours unscathed.

CHAPTER THREE

‘YOU can use this room for tonight.’ Hunter threw Estelle’s well-packed holdall on to the enormous four-poster bed that dominated the ornate bedroom. ‘The child will have to make do with a drawer or something.’ He threw a brief uninterested glance in Joseph’s direction. ‘You can pad it out with towels; there are plenty in the bathroom, just through there.’ He indicated a door in the corner of the room with a nod of his head. ‘You know where the kitchen is should you need anything else, don’t you?’

Estelle nodded mutely, too nervous to admit that she hadn’t a clue where anything was after the endless maze of corridors they had just travelled along. ‘I’m sorry to be such a nuisance,’ she murmured as he moved towards the door. ‘Are you sure you want the bother of having me in the house?’

‘Have I read the situation wrongly?’ His words were clipped, his voice curt and suddenly irritable. ‘Do you have somewhere, someone else to go to, then?’

‘N-no. It’s just I don’t want to be...I mean...there was no need to—’

‘Save your breath, Estelle,’ he interrupted crisply. ‘We’ve been through all this before. You’re here now and it’s late. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’

Tomorrow came quickly enough. Six-thirty, to be precise. Joseph was cutting teeth and his insistent cries woke Estelle immediately.

It took several moments before she got her bearings; the grand room with its ornate hangings and impressive collections of paintings and books was so at odds with her own congested flat that for some considerable time she actually thought she was having some kind of weird dream. Then, as the depressing happenings of the night before came flooding back, she realised that the nightmare she had woken to was not in fact a nightmare at all but actual reality...

‘Oh, I’m...I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be down here at this hour.’ Estelle backed away to the door. Hunter was sitting at the long oak table in the kitchen, dressed immaculately in a crisp dark business suit, with a sheaf of papers at his right hand, and a coffee-pot and a cup at his left. He looked, Estelle thought, as if he had been there for quite some considerable time. Another calculation gone astray—she had counted on him being safely out of the way, tucked up, asleep in his bed somewhere, for another couple of hours at least.

‘There’s no need to run away like some startled rabbit,’ he drawled, raising his head to survey Estelle with cool, unhurried ease. ‘Come along in. I’m just about finished anyway.’

‘I...I just wanted some hot water,’ Estelle murmured hesitantly, ‘to heat up Joseph’s bottle. I...I’ll come back later; it doesn’t matter.’ She began to withdraw, but Hunter rose from the table, crossed the room and placed commanding hands on her shoulders.

‘I don’t think your son would particularly appreciate that,’ he drawled lazily, manoeuvring Estelle through into the kitchen, ‘and neither would I for that matter—the noise he’s making is setting my teeth on edge. I suggest you get some food inside him as quickly as possible before he wakes the whole neighbourhood.’

Estelle pursed her lips, averting her eyes from Hunter’s handsome face, more aware than she ever wanted to be of his touch, of the slightest pressure his fingers exerted as he led her over to the gleaming range. ‘I just wanted some hot water.’

‘Yes, so you’ve already told me,’ he murmured smoothly, leaning back in his chair to watch with glittering eyes as Estelle stood nervously before him. ‘There’s no need to keep explaining your presence. I did invite you to stay here, after all.’

‘I need a bowl too.’ Estelle tried to harden up her voice but it still sounded ridiculously nervous.

‘No problem. Look in the cupboards; I’m sure there are plenty around.’

‘I...I’ll be out of your way in a moment.’ Estelle turned, hating him for making her feel awkward, hating the fact that she cared because her hair was a mess and her T-shirt was old and she probably looked the most dreadful fright.

What on earth was I thinking of last night? Estelle thought despairingly. To come here, agree to Hunter’s suggestion. Suggestion? She shook her head, cursing silently as she remembered his forceful behaviour, the way he had taken advantage of her vulnerability.

A flush of self-consciousness flooded Estelle’s face as she became aware of the fact that his deep, dark eyes were focusing speculatively on her shapely figure. Surreptitiously she tugged at the too short T-shirt which she had slept in as usual, feeling stupidly gauche and awkward in front of his own relaxed, rugged frame.

‘Nice legs,’ Hunter murmured appreciatively, leaning back, folding his arms, taking a good long look. His lips curved into a stunning smile. ‘Slim and golden, just the way I like them. Now don’t look at me like that,’ he added, his eyes taunting Estelle as she pursed her lips angrily and threw him a frosty look. ‘What do you expect? If you will wander the house half undressed, flaunting yourself—’

‘I am not flaunting myself!’ Estelle cut in, eyes bright with irritation as she rose easily to the bait. ‘But I didn’t bring a dressing-gown with me. And anyway, I didn’t expect you to be here.’ She lowered herself carefully, clutching Joseph’s body close, desperately trying not to reveal any more of herself as she bent and hastily searched in the cupboards.

‘I’m surprised you’re up so bright and early,’ Hunter murmured in conversational tones. ‘It must have been pretty late by the time you got some sleep.’

Estelle straightened up, carefully poured some hot water into a bowl and then plunged in the prepared bottle of milk that she had mercifully thought to bring from her flat with her, with a silent prayer that it would be ready before Joseph’s intermittent cries turned into full-scale howls of impatience. ‘It may be early,’ she retorted stiffly, determined not to allow his seemingly pleasant tones to have an effect on her, ‘but I don’t feel particularly bright. Early rising isn’t something I do out of choice.’

‘Tell me about it!’ Hunter murmured drily, crossing back over to the table. ‘I’m driving up to Manchester this morning on business, hoping, although I doubt whether I’ll succeed, to avoid the worst of the rush-hour traffic. Early mornings are a complete nightmare to me.’

‘I would have thought you would have been able to arrange business meetings at times that were more agreeable to yourself,’ Estelle answered snappily. ‘After all, isn’t that one of the perks of being in charge of your own company?’

‘True. But somehow it’s never really as easy as all that.’ There was a slight pause. ‘So, you’re aware then that I own my own business?’ he asked smoothly. ‘How come?’

Estelle stiffened. She could almost feel his perceptive gaze boring into her back. There was a long silence as she rapidly ran over what she had just said. Had she given too much away? No. No, it was all right, she thought, breathing an inward sigh of relief; he couldn’t possibly guess that she was almost an expert on his lifestyle, had gathered information about him with almost feverish determination from any source that she could lay her hands on ever since she had first discovered his name in Connie’s diary. ‘Oh, I...I just heard from somewhere,’ she murmured vaguely. ‘Someone in the village must have mentioned it.’ She shrugged, silently urging the hot water to hurry up and do its job, because if she didn’t get out of the kitchen and Hunter’s presence soon she would be giving all sorts of things away.