Mistletoe Mistress

'Tough.' It wasn't quite the way to talk to one's employer, she thought with a touch of hysteria, but then Hawk Mallen wasn't the average boss. 'I'm bringing my bags with me and I'll move into a hotel until I find something within my price range; we can sort out a reasonable allowance for accommodation later.'

'I don't believe this is happening.'

He didn't look as though he did either, she thought weakly, and he had never looked more gorgeous, which she really didn't need.

'You are seriously telling me you won't stay here?' he said, after a good thirty seconds when they had stared at each other like two gladiators in mortal combat His voice held a touch of bemused incredulity and it made her want to laugh-something

she had thought last night would never happen again. 'The place has a lease for six months.'

'That's not my problem.' She could see he was freshly shaved, the tanned skin begging to be touched- She cut the thought firmly and returned to the attack. 'I am not prepared to be talked about, Hawk, and neither do I want to stay on here under false pretences. You clearly had something other than a work relationship in mind when you took this apartment, and as I have no intention of fulfilling that requirement-' if he mentioned last night she would kill him, on the spot. '-I wouldn't be comfortable continuing here.'

'You really are serious.' How could someone so soft and small and kitten-like be so unreasonable? Hawk asked himself furiously. 'Joanne, this is crazy.'

'I don't think so; it would be crazy to stay here, though.' She could see she had totally thrown him and it felt so good, so wonderfully good, after the miserable night she'd had when she'd walked the beautiful apartment till dawn. She wanted to hate him, all through the long dark night hours she had tried to hate him, but although her head was in agreement her heart just wouldn't fall into line. He was the epitome of the love-'em-and-leave-'em types her mother had fallen for, she'd told herself angrily-only after one thing, shallow, heartless-but still, as the first pink rays had crept over the balcony floor, her heart had wept for what might have been.

'That's your last word on the matter?' he asked grimly.

'Yes.' She stared at him a little nervously now, wondering what he was going to do.

'Right.' He walked across to the telephone and picked it up, tapping in the number in a manner that could only be termed vicious. 'Antoinette?' His voice was icy. 'Miss Crawford and myself won't be in the office till this afternoon, and cancel the lease on Miss Crawford's apartment, would you? It isn't suitable.'

The French girl must have been as surprised as Hawk had been, because he next said, the words bitten out through clenched teeth, 'For a number of reasons,' and then, 'I don't care about that; pay the damn thing in full,' before slamming down the receiver so hard it jumped up again.

'Right, we flat-hunt.' He glared at her, his eyes blue ice. 'Satisfied?'

'You don't have to do that; I can find something later and stay in a hotel for now-'

'I am not leaving France until I see you settled in suitable accommodation that I have personally inspected, right?' The glare intensified. 'You don't know Paris, the side and not so safe areas, and frankly you are a con-man's dream.'

'I am not!' she protested hotly, her cheeks burning scarlet.

'Yes, you are,' he countered, his voice deep now, too deep, its texture making shivers dance down her spine as he eyed her grimly. 'How you've got to the age of twenty-nine without being snared by some man a little bolder than the rest I don't know,' he said darkly. 'Perhaps it's because you're just too good to be true.'

She didn't know if he was being nasty now, especially in view of her abandonment last night, but she couldn't think of anything to say anyway, just staring at him with big, wary honey-brown eyes as she forced herself not to wilt.

'Come on.' He turned to the door, his voice suddenly brisk. 'I had planned to leave France this afternoon; my work schedule is hellish and I haven't got time to waste. I know the agents Antoinette used to find this place; we'll give them a visit.'

'I don't want anything like this-'

'Trust me.' It was said tongue-in-cheek but his eyes weren't angry now, and she had to fight against the flood of relief and joy filling her body. He wanted to find her somewhere where she would be safe; he cared enough for that? Don't be stupid! The voice in her head answered the spurt of hope immediately. You're here to do a job for him and he wants you one hundred per cent the capable machine he expects. If there were difficulties it would affect your work; that is all he is thinking of.

Hawk didn't leave France that afternoon. It was four o'clock before they found her an apartment, after visiting several others scattered all over the city, but immediately she saw it she knew it was the one.

She had insisted on speaking to the agents herself, Hawk's idea of price range being in the super league, and had liked the sound of the converted house, three storeys high with the apartment occupying the top floor, in a quiet square close to the Latin Quarter.

The rain and wind of the night before had given way to weak sunshine when they reached the old cobbled square dotted with gnarled trees, benches complete with old men in berets and young grandchildren about their knees, and a general air of bygone tranquillity that sat well on the stately houses trying to maintain a semblance of dignity despite crumbling balconies and flaking paint. Joanne thought it was charming.

'Right, I've seen enough; on to the next one,' Hawk said abruptly as their long-suffering driver parked on the road opposite, and Hawk's gaze followed hers across to the sleepy square.

'Hang on a minute; I haven't seen the apartment yet,' Joanne protested quickly.

'You don't need to, surely?' Hawk said disparagingly.

'Of course I do.' She turned to him, a ray of autumn sunshine turning her smooth bob to red fire. 'It looks lovely.'

'Lovely?' The bemused incredulity was back. 'Lovely? What, exactly, are you looking at, Joanne?'

'I'm looking at happy children with people who love them, who have got time to care, at a quiet little haven in the midst of all the busyness, at those wonderful old cobbles and ancient trees, at-' She stopped suddenly. 'Why? What are you looking at?'