Claimed by the Wealthy Magnate
Page 36
But right now she had no choice—there was no way round the need to actually speak with him face to face.
Get on with it, Kaitlin.
She pushed the door open and entered, swallowed the catch of breath that afflicted her whenever she saw him. Sitting on the sofa, intent on his laptop, he looked so...yummy. Dark hair shower-damp, dressed in a white T-shirt that showed the honey tone of his skin, the muscular forearms with a smattering of hair.
He turned to look at her, and heat lit his blue eyes for a scant second.
‘Hi. Sorry—I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
‘It’s fine.’ He pushed the screen away from him and rubbed a hand over his face. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I... I wondered if I could talk to you about something?’
‘Sure. Would you like a drink? You definitely deserve one—you’ve done a brilliant job the past two days.’
The words were warm, yet the tone didn’t match—there was a near cynicism that confused her. ‘You sound surprised. Or upset?’
A frown creased his forehead as he rose and walked to the sideboard, where he opened a bottle of red wine. Turning, he shrugged. ‘Not at all. As you said, you had a job to do and you have executed it perfectly. The press have loved this aspect of Lady Kaitlin. So have the teenagers.’
Again, despite the positive words she sensed an undercurrent.
‘I sense a reservation.’
He hesitated, and then tipped his palms in the air. ‘I don’t get it. Is it real or a gigantic PR exercise to you? You seem so natural with the teenagers, and I can’t tell if you mean it or if you are simply furthering your image.’ He poured the wine into two glasses. ‘Not that it matters.’
Anger and hurt swirled together in her stomach. ‘Excuse me? You think I’m faking this?’
‘That’s it. I don’t know. You are the one who told me image is everything.’
The words halted her—she had said that, and when she had agreed to do this her motivation had been to introduce a new facet of Lady Kaitlin Derwent. Accepting the glass he handed her, she looked down into the ruby liquid and thought back over the past days. Looked back up at him.
‘These past days haven’t been about my image. It’s been about them.’ Tom and Celia and Liz and Darren and...and all the youngsters she’d spoken with. ‘Some of what they have been through makes my blood run cold. I like every one of them and I want to help them. For real—not as part of a PR exercise for me.’
She broke off at the sudden smile that turned up his lips and made her tummy flip. ‘What?’
‘That’s the first time you’ve sounded so passionate about something.’
‘I do feel passionate about it. Until now most of my charitable efforts have been attending events or fundraising for Derwent Manor. This is different. I’ve never felt so involved. I care about these kids.’ She glanced at him and the knowledge of a shared belief made warmth bubble inside her. ‘I think you do too.’
Because she’d seen him—the way he spoke with them, the discussions he’d had with them—she’d seen how serious some of them had been. Had also seen his patience as he explained how to do something, the way he’d genuinely listened to them, bantered, joked...as if he felt a connection.
‘I do.’
‘Why?’ Kaitlin hadn’t meant to ask the question but she wanted to know.
‘Why do you?’ he countered.
‘Because they have made me realise how lucky I am—made me see how petty my own concerns are.’ Even the horror of her kidnap faded into insignificance against what some of the children had had to face in their short lifespans. ‘They’ve made me...feel.’ The admission was almost too much, though it was true—these kids had got under her skin. ‘Feel as if I want to help,’ she completed hurriedly. ‘Now your turn.’
‘It’s as you said. For years I have spent every minute of the day focused on success. My success. These past days I’ve wanted to help them.’
They stared at each other—the shared revelation buzzed between them, created a connection that shimmered in the air.
Kaitlin took a gulp of wine, felt the spice and berry notes tingle on her tongue as she tried to pull her shattered senses into order. ‘Which brings me to my idea.’
‘Go ahead. But sit down first.’
She sank down onto the cream armchair and tucked her feet under her. ‘I know the outdoors is important, and how much benefit the kids have reaped from the kayaking and the hiking. But I want to do something a bit different tomorrow.’