Mistress for a Night

‘I shan’t want anything, Blossom. I’ve got a raging headache, so I’ll turn in and have an early night.’

It wasn’t a lie. Her head felt as if it were about to split in two. But nothing short of her immediate demise would obliterate the housekeeper’s notion of what was right and what was wrong.

‘You can do no such thing, Miss Georgie! Whatever would Mr Jason think? His first night here, too!’

Blossom had been preparing peppered shrimps for the supper Georgia had no intention of sharing with Jason, and now she wiped her hands on her huge white coverall and plonked them on her hips, repeating, ‘Whatever would he think of your manners?’

Georgia couldn’t care less. ‘I’m sure he’ll understand, if you explain it to him nicely.’ She crossed to the fridge and poured herself a glass of juice. The sun had set in a blaze of gold and crimson, dropping swiftly through the dark blue sky. Now she could see fireflies dancing giddily through the wide uncurtained kitchen windows.

She had no idea if Jason had returned to the bungalow or been caught in the quickness of the Caribbean nightfall. And didn’t want to know.

Disregarding Blossom’s objections, she went to her room and closed the door firmly behind her. She was fond of the older woman, had come to terms with her idiosyncrasies during the weeks she’d spent here all those years ago, and remembered her with affection. But the housekeeper was going to have to learn that Little Miss Georgie had grown up, developed a mind of her own!

She had even, before Jason had appeared and ruined the tranquillity, decided to keep the island, to visit as often as she could, offer it as a holiday opportunity for her friends and colleagues. Blossom and Elijah would love having people to look after.

But Jason’s unexpected arrival had tainted the place, spoiled everything. He was the serpent in this paradise. She didn’t think she would ever want to set foot on the island again.

The sleep she craved eluded her. When the illuminated dial of the bedside clock showed two a.m. she gave up, pulled on a short silky robe and padded out of the room.

At the far end of the wide, marble-floored corridor she took a deep breath to steady herself, and opened the door to the master suite. At least Blossom would applaud the fact that she’d at last psyched herself up to sort through the things Vivienne had left behind when she’d fled the island all those years ago.

Wide awake and fully alert, Jason heard doors open and close. So Georgia couldn’t sleep, either. Were the memories of what had happened between them earlier keeping her awake, too?

He would have liked to blame his sleepless state on the peppered prawns, the pumpkin pie and homemade ice-cream Blossom had served him. But in all honesty couldn’t.

Not wanting to eat a thing, he’d forced himself to for the housekeeper’s sake. She’d been miffed enough about Georgia’s refusal of supper.

‘Miss Georgie says sorry, but she’s got herself a big headache. She’s gone to bed to sleep it off. She don’t heed what I say—goes out in the sun without her hat—I worry my head about her.’

‘Don’t.’ He’d eyed the fancily laid table, the great quantities of rich food with a desperation he’d been doing his best to hide. ‘Miss Georgie’s all grown up now; she can look after herself.’

And wasn’t that the truth! She’d latched on to Harold’s weakness for pretty young things and feathered her nest very nicely, thank you! And, this afternoon, had had no qualms about as good as admitting it!

It sickened him to his soul. He wanted to walk away from the hard-nosed, sophisticated little madam she’d become and forget she’d ever existed.

But he couldn’t. Not until she’d fully explained what had happened to their baby. Not knowing was his private demon. A demon that wouldn’t let him rest.

He’d fouled up this afternoon. His intention had been to talk, to begin to sort out their unfinished business, and he’d ended up touching her, wanting her with a force that had blown his mind.

It wouldn’t happen again. Forewarned of the crazy effect she could have on him, he’d make absolutely certain it didn’t!

Swinging his legs out of bed, he strode to the en suite bathroom to cover his naked body with the towelling robe that was hanging on the back of the door, and let himself out into the corridor.

Blossom and Elijah’s quarters were in the annexe, so Georgia had to be the nocturnal wanderer. He’d track her down and insist they had the talk that was overdue by seven years.

At the end of the corridor a strip of light showed beneath the master suite door. He walked towards it. His heart was thumping loudly in his chest. He ignored it and pushed open the door.

CHAPTER SEVEN

A SINGLE lamp illuminated the top of the delicate writing desk she was sitting at. Jason spared a single, impatient glance at the rest of the dimly lit master bedroom, noted the jewel colours of the clothes that had been neatly folded and stacked on the ice-blue satin bedspread, but his eyes were immediately drawn back again to the scarlet-robed figure immobile in the pool of light.

She had scooped her hair up on top of her head, revealing her long, elegant neck, and the droop of her slender shoulders as her fingers smoothed the surface of the handwritten sheet of paper in front of her gave her an almost childlike vulnerability that jerked at his heartstrings.

Coupled with the in-your-face sensuality of the body so carelessly covered by a slick of scarlet silk, it was a combination that threatened to destroy his intention to keep the hoped-for conclusion of business between them civilised and cool.

A frown drew his brow down above his narrowed eyes. She couldn’

t have failed to hear him come into the room, and yet she didn’t turn to face him, didn’t move a muscle apart from the slow slide of her fingers over the sheet of paper.