The Burlington Manor Affair

Mrs. Summerfield smiled again. “I thought as much. I’ll be making a full breakfast for Rex. What would you like?”

“Tea and toast is enough for me.” At the mention of Rex’s name Carmen moved to the large scrubbed pine kitchen table. The thought of sitting here eating breakfast with him after what had passed between them the night before made her nervous.

Mrs. Summerfield had already set out two places with cups and saucers and cutlery. They were close together at one end of the table. Carmen shifted one setting a bit farther away from the other and moved the chair before sitting down.

Thankfully she was in place when the door to the outside lobby sprung open and Rex joined them. “Something smells good,” he commented as he entered the room.

“Crispy bacon in the oven,” Mrs. Summerfield informed him, “just how you said you like it these days, nice and lean. I’m cooking eggs now. There’s tea brewing.”

Rex listened while he looked across at Carmen.

Carmen reached for the teapot. It really should be illegal for a man to look that good, she thought to herself as she glanced at him from under her lashes. He’d been out jogging, which apparently made him all the more attractive. The white T-shirt he wore clung to the heat of his body. The loose jogging pants only seemed to emphasize his hard male physique. He looked wired, energetic and vital. The essential woman in her responded to that, her core tingling, her skin pricking with expectation. Out of nowhere, Carmen felt a rush of pity for her poor teenage self. It was no wonder she’d been such a tortured soul, nursing her romantic dreams and lusty fantasies. Having to share space with a man like Rex Carruthers wouldn’t be easy for any woman, let alone an inexperienced teenager.

Now, though, now I should be able to handle him.

Mrs. Summerfield nodded at the table. “What else would you like? Some juice, perhaps.”

“A glass of skimmed milk, if we have it.”

“Lean protein breakfast on the weekend,” Carmen commented. “Things have changed.”

Rex stared across at her, his mouth curling. “Haven’t they just.”

It was there all the time, the subtle reference to the lust between them. Even now, after it had been dealt with. He obviously intended to keep that particular attitude on the go. To her mortification, he approached.

“Good morning, my dear, you’re looking particularly radiant today.” He ducked down and kissed her cheek.

Say something, she urged herself as he hovered expectantly. “Thank you,” she managed.

Apparently satisfied, he took a seat.

“So, have you seen how high-tech we are here now?” He nodded at the wall behind and above her head.

Carmen turned around and looked up, above her seat. There, fixed to a bracket on the wall, she saw a CCTV screen that appeared to be showing a picture of the front driveway. A moment later it altered to the delivery entrance, and then back again. “That’s new.”

“About time, too. For decades the staff here have been expected to miraculously know when people are arriving. I’m glad to see the old man finally gave in and got with the times, primitive though it is.” Rex’s tone was largely disapproving.

Mrs. Summerfield chuckled at his comments as she went about her business.

“There’s a screen in the hallway, too,” he added.

Mrs. Summerfield brought a basket of hot toast over, then served Rex’s cooked breakfast. Carmen buttered her toast while Rex listed some of the changes he’d spotted. Why was he taking such an interest?

“I notice you haven’t been the face of Objet d’Art the way Sylvia was,” he stated while he peppered his eggs. “Why is that?”

Startled and wary, Carmen put down her toast and reached for her teacup. Anonymity suited her, that’s why. “Did it do her any good, being the public face?”

His mouth twitched at one corner. If he was amused by her grief she’d never forgive him. Carmen gripped the armrests on her chair tightly, in order not to push the chair back and leave. Suffering his warped sense of humor was not part of the deal.

“I believe it did, because it did the company good and that’s what she wanted, for you as much as her.” He paused deliberately. “She was proud of what she’d created, and she gave the company a human face.”

His comment surprised her deeply, because it never occurred to her that he’d taken any interest in Objet d’Art. Carmen struggled to find an answer, mostly because she didn’t know how to respond without snapping at him. She didn’t want to do that in front of Mrs. Summerfield. She also didn’t want to talk about things that were close to her, because if they shared too much it would no longer be a business arrangement. Or was it too late for that already?

Guarded, wary and confused, she couldn’t help offering a defensive response. “That sounds like a criticism of me.”

“Not at all. I’m aware that you’ll have good reasons, and you clearly run the company every bit as well as your mother did. I’m just curious as to why you run that angle differently.”

All she could do was state the truth. “It was her thing. Mum loved leading the PR for Objet d’Art. She pulled a terrific team together to run the place so she could concentrate on the public image of the company. It was lucky for me that she worked that way. When she died in the car crash, I’d completed my business studies degree but I was just starting my MBA course. I had to drop out and move into position much earlier than planned.”