‘My mother was right about me.’
‘Your mother?’ He couldn’t help the tone of his voice.
‘I am a golf-club girl at heart.’
He was starting to get the picture. ‘A making up a four at bridge type of girl?’ he added helpfully.
‘Exactly,’ she said, as if he had come up with a rival theory to Einstein’s theory of relativity. She flashed him a grateful glance. ‘Thank you, Cade. Thank you for understanding and for making this easy for me.’
‘What?’ He clenched his jaw. That was the last thing he wanted. ‘How have I done that?’
‘You’ve shown me that it doesn’t matter how I feel about you, because we’re so obviously wrong for each other.’
He had?
But that was good, wasn’t it, when he wanted the best for Liv? He would be bad for her, and so it was better this way—that she came to the same conclusion for herself. However, she clearly expected a reply and a slick comment eluded him, so he thumbed his stubble instead, hoping something would come to him.
‘I want to help you with your scheme,’ she continued, ‘and I will. I’ll probably make a very good housekeeper in the short-term. And I’m more than happy to help you find someone else—’
‘Someone else?’ He must have missed something. What was she talking about? He didn’t want anyone else. He wanted Liv.
‘Someone really well qualified—’
‘I choose my staff.’ Perhaps not the best time to state the obvious, but for all his good intentions he wasn’t ready to believe she was leaving him.
‘I can see now that I should have stayed with Horace—’
‘Horace?’ He grabbed his head. ‘Who the hell is Horace?’
‘The man I was supposed to marry.’
His hackles rose as he remembered the man she had abandoned at the altar. ‘Don’t tell me—Horace was a nice, safe golf-club man?’
‘Yes, and perhaps he was the right type of man for me, after all,’ she agreed thoughtfully, which brought a second scowl to his face.
‘And how do you work that out?’
‘Maybe I could have made him happy, if only I’d tried harder.’
‘Is that right?’ Digging his hands into the pockets of his breeches, he drew them even tighter across his groin. ‘I think you’d better explain what you’re getting at.’
Oblivious to his growing tension, she had clearly gained in confidence as she went to perch on the edge of the bed. ‘What I should be looking for,’ she told him confidently, ‘is a nice, calm beta male.’
He relaxed.
‘What?’ she demanded indignantly when he started to laugh.
‘You’d kill him,’ he told her flatly.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IT WAS like the calm after the storm; a chance to talk. ‘Home wrecker,’ Cade exclaimed softly as he examined the damage to the door.
Liv couldn’t believe the passions the two of them could invoke, and was still so sure she was right. ‘I should have listened to people who know me.’
‘I know you.’
‘No, you don’t.’ She shook her head.
‘Let’s look at the facts. I know about the passion. I know how organised and practical you are. If others know you so well, why have they given you the idea that your only purpose in life is to land a husband? They can’t know you like I do.’
‘You’ve only known me a couple of weeks,’ she pointed out.
‘And that’s long enough for me to know your heart’s too big for you to live a life that rotates between the golf club and the beauty parlour. You’ve got too much to give—’
‘You don’t really believe that—’
‘I know it for a fact. No more buts, Liv. No more doubts…’ Coming to stand in front of her, Cade took hold of her arms.
She shivered, feeling him invade every atom of her being. ‘Don’t,’ she warned when he tightened his grip, making it impossible to think.
‘Or you’ll what? What will you do, Liv? Stamp on my feet again? I’m guessing right now you’re regretting the fact you flung your high heeled shoes at the wall. Am I right?’
‘This isn’t funny, Cade—’
‘Correct. This is a farce. You’re a deep-thinking, complex girl, determined to shoehorn your way into a narrow life that isn’t right for you.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ Liv stiffened in a hopeless attempt to ward off the effects of Cade’s slow-burning smile.
‘I’m sure. Confrontations are my speciality. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s weighing up people and situations fast.’ Rather than give her chance to argue, he brushed her lips with his mouth.
‘Cade, that’s not fair…’
‘Who said I play fair?’ He pulled away.
‘And where are you going now?’
‘I’m sorry…Did I say I was staying?’
‘Cade—’
‘Thank you for your company tonight, Liv. You were great. I could never have achieved the level of success I did for my scheme without your help.’
She was still reeling when he added, ‘And now I’m going downstairs for a brandy. And then I’m going to bed. There wasn’t anything else you wanted to say to me, was there?’
‘Absolutely nothing,’ she gasped, turning away.
He showered, slipped on his jeans and an old frayed T-shirt before padding downstairs to have that brandy he’d talked about. He didn’t want a drink, but he wasn’t ready to go to sleep either. Time to get a hold of himself, he reflected, pouring a generous measure of his best cognac into a crystal balloon. He was tired of playing games with Liv, weary of wrestling the tumult inside him.
The answer was to keep his distance from her, he told himself firmly. That was straightforward enough. He had knocked back half a glass of the throat-burning liquid when a log crackled in the hearth, reminding him to bank the fire. Hunkering down, he made sure it would last the night. He guessed that was how long he’d want its company. As the flames sprang up he pictured Liv and his protective instincts came storming to the fore. It didn’t make sense to offer her the job and keep her here. It would only torment them both, and it wasn’t fair to
lead her on when he had nothing to offer her. But turning her down for the job presented him with a major problem, not least of which was the fact that he would never find anyone who fitted the role so well.
But it was the right thing to do, he concluded, sitting back on his haunches. He’d made hard decisions in the past, and this was no different. Strength defined him. It was who he was and what he did, and what everyone quite justifiably expected of him. His Achilles heel was emotion, and he couldn’t allow anyone to stir that, not even Liv. This brief flirtation with life as it might have been was well and truly over—
‘Cade…’
He felt a tingling down his spine as Liv’s voice stole over him.
‘I guessed you were still down here. I couldn’t sleep either…’
‘Would you like a drink?’ He sprang up, keen to keep everything on a decent footing now he’d got the decision to make a clean break between them clear in his head. But when he turned around to face her he found it wasn’t quite that easy. Her hair was loose and with her face clean of make-up she looked so innocent and lovely. Only her eyes betrayed her tiredness and strain with the bruised black circles framing them…but she was wearing brushed cotton pyjamas in what had recently become his favourite colour—pink.
‘No to a drink, thank you,’ she said, coming to warm her hands by the fire.
He was instantly concerned for her welfare. ‘You’re not still cold in that room, are you?’
‘No, I have enough blankets…’
And still she shivered. He couldn’t get warm either. He guessed the ice of rejection had settled over both of them. As their glances accidentally clashed all the pledges he had so easily made evaporated and he had to stroll across the room to put some distance between them. ‘No,’ he said out loud. ‘I don’t feel like another drink.’ He put his glass down.
‘Sorry, if I’m intruding—’
‘You’re not intruding.’
‘I’m sorry about the door too.’
‘The damage? I caused it. And they needed replacing, anyway.’
‘Nevertheless, I insist you dock the cost of repairing them from my wages.’