‘No. I believe in supporting local firms—now.’ As their waiter approached, he added, ‘What will you have?’
She recited her order of Danish tartlets followed by red mullet with mushrooms abstractedly. By referring to himself as local he’d made it plain that he intended to settle at Langley Hayes. Being surrounded by his company’s golf course and leisure centre would be a small price to pay for the self-aggrandisement of living in the home of his former enemy.
A home large enough to house a wife, a growing number of children and an army of servants. The thought that he might be contemplating marriage made her feel almost terminally ill.
Though it shouldn’t. He was less than nothing to her now and she pitied his future wife. Once a liar and cheat, always a liar and cheat where women were concerned. She refused his offer of wine, ate well, made banal conversation and was thankful when they left.
The headlights made a sweeping golden tunnel beneath the newly leafing trees that overhung the narrow lane. Soon the Queen Anne’s lace would foam on the verges and the wild roses and honeysuckle would bloom, filling the air with fragrance.
Her childhood had been lonely and often miserable but even so she loved this part of the country. But her life was in London now, her home, her work, her friends. She didn’t want or need to feel this utterly surprising, aching pang of nostalgia.
Without thinking, as they swept onto the driveway of Langley Hayes, she said tartly, ‘I’m sure the area has a need for a golf course and leisure facilities—your company wouldn’t have gone for it if they hadn’t done their homework—but won’t you mind being surrounded by people? Father would have had a fit if he’d found what he called the hoi polloi wandering around his property.’
‘I’m not your father,’ he observed coldly and she tightened her mouth in mute acknowledgement. He was far more handsome and charismatic than her father had ever been, worked hard—he must do to have acquired what was obviously a massive fortune where her father had lived on dwindling capital, and had mismanaged what had been left of the once enormous estate. But both men possessed a streak of cruelty, a complete disregard for other people’s feelings.
‘And I won’t be here that often to be troubled by the masses,’ he added sardonically. ‘However, I will keep a suite of rooms here.’
He parked the gleaming Jaguar perilously close to the builder’s skip, the tyres crunching on badly targeted lumps of plaster and brick ends. Caroline, getting out before he did, wondered if he was always as careless with his possessions as he was with other people’s emotions.
She entered the house before he did but he caught up with her. ‘Share a bottle of wine with me?’
His voice had lost that sharp edge and here in the soft silence of the house his presence was sensationally male and potent. And dangerous.
She shuddered inside. How easy it would be to give in to the temptation. Just be with him, get to know the man he had become. Wonder if he still made love as generously as he had done all those years ago or if he’d become jaded, taking his physical pleasure perfunctorily.
She slammed the door of her mind shut on that thought and shook her head slightly. ‘Thank you, but I’ll pass. What time do you leave for Shrewsbury tomorrow?’
‘Ten. We should be back here by three. Are you sure about that wine?’
‘Perfectly sure.’ The best part of tomorrow would be wasted if she went with him. Spending more time with him than was absolutely necessary wasn’t on her agenda. Why hadn’t she had the foresight to bring something rough-and-ready to wear? Because none of her clothes fitted that category.
She smothered a sigh and said, ‘I’ll pass on the shopping trip, too. I’ll manage with what I have.’ Better to ruin her clothes than the image of a cool and collected professional. There was a limit to how much time she could spend with him without giving in to the temptation to tell him how much he disgusted her.
She turned her back and headed for the stairs and heard him say softly, ‘Running scared, Caro? I wonder why?’
In her room she closed the door and leant back against it, breathing heavily, her heart banging against her ribs. She felt as if she’d run a marathon with the devil on her tail. And the devil was Ben Dexter.
Once she’d adored him; he’d become her sole reason for living and her life had fallen apart when he’d betrayed her. But that betrayal didn’t alter his incredible physical appeal. It should do, but it didn’t.
She pushed herself away from the door, more than annoyed with herself for the direction her thoughts were taking. Furious.
Selecting an aqua silk nightdress and matching robe she went to the bathroom and ten minutes later, belting the robe around her narrow
waist, she walked back and found Linda tapping on her bedroom door.
‘I thought you might like to borrow these. They’ll be too wide and too short, I guess, but they’ll be more practical than those wispy flowery things.’
Caroline gave her heart-stopping smile. She could have hugged the other woman. She wouldn’t have to ruin her own clothes and, more to the point, she wouldn’t have to wonder when Dexter might walk in on her to make a point of looking at her underwear!
‘Thanks, Linda!’ She accepted the neatly folded jeans and faded green sweatshirt, debated whether to ask why Dexter, with the whole house at his disposal, would be keeping just a suite of rooms for his occasional use, and then thought better of it. Questions like that would only display an interest she desperately wanted to deny, particularly to herself. ‘This is really thoughtful of you,’ she said instead.
‘Think nothing of it,’ Linda gave a slight shrug, asking, ‘Did you enjoy your evening?’
‘The food was excellent.’ She evaded the question, one hand going to the doorknob, turning it, opening the bedroom door. She didn’t want to talk about it.
‘Good.’ Linda took her dismissal with an easy smile. ‘I’ll say goodbye in case I don’t see you again. I’ve got the rest of the week off—family christening; my sister’s first and I’m godmother—so you might have finished here before I get back.’
So she’d be alone here with Dexter, Caroline thought sinkingly as she smiled and said all the right things, and closed her bedroom door behind her telling herself staunchly that the other woman’s absence wouldn’t really matter. She could handle Ben Dexter all by herself; she didn’t need backup.