As she turned to face him again she saw that he appeared quite relaxed as he watched her, his arms folded over his chest and his muscled legs slightly apart. Relaxed and very formidable.
'I suppose it is inevitable, being twins, but I understand the way she thinks even when I don't agree with it. At thirty-five she has decided that the next stage in her life is a husband and children and made a coldblooded decision to that effect. Nevertheless, she is certainly more than old enough to make her own decisions and her own mistakes, but this… this is a mistake,' he finished grimly.
'But they might love each other—!'
'Oh, spare me,' he interrupted mockingly, a hard edge to his voice that belied the relaxed composure. 'Her ardent swain is a full ten years younger than Barbara, a sports fanatic who could double for any Mr Universe, and was, I understand, thrown out of school as soon as it was legally possible. The epitome of all brawn and no brain. Now, does that sound like a love match to you?'
She stared at him uncertainly.
'This ridiculous farce might have stood a chance if he was from a similar background, nearer her age, if they had a few shared interests at least—'
'I think you're being very narrow-minded.'
'What?'
'I think you're being very narrow-minded,' she repeated bravely as she watched the black brows draw together and the grey eyes take on a decidedly arctic chill. 'It's a well-known fact that opposites attract and they might be desperately in love, for all you know. Just because she wants children it doesn't mean she doesn't love her fiancé, does it? And age doesn't matter, not at all.'
'Really?' His lips curled derisively. 'And the fact that she is an extremely wealthy woman in her own right and he is nothing more than a beach-bum doesn't matter, either, I suppose?'
'Not if they really love each other.' She held the hard, cynical gaze without flinching as he laughed mockingly.
'Good grief, girl, are you real?' His tone was scathing, and as hot colour flooded her cheeks she would have given the world to walk up to him and hit him very hard across his coolly patronising face. 'Rose-coloured glasses might be understandable in children, but I would have thought you were way past such nonsense. From what I've told you any fool would be able to see—'
'I am not a fool, Mr Vance, even if it satisfies something in your male ego to treat me like one.' Goodbye, lovely, lovely job, she thought faintly as she spoke. Mitch would probably roast her alive but nothing, nothing in the world could have stopped her speaking her mind. 'Your sister clearly hasn't told you that any of what you suspect is true and it seems to me that you are judging her fiancé more on his humble status than anything else. You think he's after her money, is that it?' She stared at him angrily. 'Well, is it?'
'Partly.' He pivoted on his heel as he spoke. 'And now, Miss Bennett, would you like to continue doing the job you are going to be paid handsomely to do? You may allow yourself the indulgence of time-wasting but I do not.'
He had reached the end door before she could collect herself sufficiently to move, and then she scuttled after him in exactly the same manner which she had berated herself for earlier. He held open the door for her to pass, his face icy, and as she brushed past him, her shoulder touching the hard, masculine chest for the briefest moment, she felt the contact in every nerve of her body.
He stood in one corner of the huge kitchens while she opened cupboards and poked and prodded into odd corners, searching out this utensil and that without saying a word, but she was vitally conscious of his dark presence as he leant broodingly against one white wall, arms folded and eyes narrowed.
Well, he was the one who had started the conversation, she thought angrily as she closed the last of the cupboard doors and stood up to leave. What had he expected? That she'd just listen without offering an opinion of her own? Perhaps that was the sort of female he usually associated with. She glanced over at the big, tall body as she nodded brightly. 'All finished.' Yes, he was definitely the type of macho man who would expect his women to be of a certain mould—malleable and amiable.
'Where are you going now?' he asked abruptly. 'I've an appointment in the City this afternoon, so if you don't mind waiting for a few minutes while I change I can drop you off on my way.'
'There's no need,' she said quickly. 'I'm going back to the office but I can easily call a taxi. I don't want to put you to any trouble and—'
'Don't be ridiculous.' He moved across to the door and opened it, gesturing her through. 'You can wait in the drawing room; I won't be long.'
He wasn't. No more than five minutes or so
. But in that time her stomach had knotted itself into a tight mass at the thought of the proposed journey. It was a good fifteen minutes to the office from here and what on earth was she going to talk to him about in all that time? And how did one make conversation with a block of stone anyway?
She heard his hand at the door just in time to compose her features into a bright smile as he walked into the room, but in the next instant her heart was thudding desperately. The dark hair was slicked harshly back, the big body clothed in a dark grey suit topped by a heavy black overcoat which sat on the massive shoulders with brooding severity, and overall he looked dangerously attractive and utterly, totally, overwhelmingly male.
She gulped deep in her throat as the silver-grey gaze passed expressionlessly over her face. 'Ready? You'll have to direct me once we are off the dual carriageway; I'm not familiar with the address.'
'It's really very kind of you.' She could feel that with very little effort on her part she would begin to babble like a demented parrot if she wasn't careful, and as she followed him out into the hall he waved a hand towards the front door. 'I'll just bring the car round; you can wait on the steps.'
'Right.'
When the car appeared—an imposing and very beautiful pale gold Bentley—she forced herself to walk carefully down the steps. He had left the car at her approach to open her door, and now waited while she slid inside before shutting her door and returning to the driver's seat. The old-fashioned courtesy was unexpected and, she suspected, totally natural, but it didn't help the flutters in her stomach which his nearness produced as a faint whiff of expensive aftershave teased fleetingly at her nostrils.
'Seat belt on, please.' She jumped at the sound of his voice and then realised that she had been sitting like an idiot instead of fastening her seat belt—something she normally did automatically.
'Sorry.' She tried a small smile but he was concentrating on moving away and didn't glance at her again.
His harsh profile was disturbingly magnetic. He must have the women absolutely flocking after him, she thought weakly as the powerful car scrunched down the drive towards the far gates. That austere coolness was incredibly fascinating when combined with the aura of unlimited wealth and broodingly cold good looks; it would make any woman want to get underneath the dark, tanned skin and find out just what made this man tick. She caught at her thoughts with a shred of horror. No, it wouldn't. Not her, anyway. She must be stark staring mad even to consider—