Millionaire's Woman

‘So you will,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘Until I’m sure it’s safe for you to drive, you’re my captive. We can share leftovers for lunch.’ He smiled. ‘It’s a fin

e day, so we could take Bran for a walk first to work up an appetite.’

‘All right, you’ve persuaded me.’ Kate had intended to say yes right from the start, but Jack didn’t have to know that. ‘May I have a shower, please?’

‘Of course. I’ll make more coffee when you come down.’

Kate hurried to the pretty spare room, gathered up the sheets and removed the covers from the duvet and pillows and folded everything into a neat pile. After her shower she put on Jack’s sweatshirt in preference to her thin camisole, pulled on her boots, used a lipstick, dragged a comb through her hair and hurried down to the kitchen with the bundle of laundry.

Bran came to meet her in such joyous welcome she scratched his ears and dropped a kiss on his head.

‘How about me?’ asked Jack.

Kate grinned. ‘You want me to scratch your ears?’

‘I meant the kiss.’

‘OK. Bend down, then.’

Jack bent his head and Kate stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

‘Is that the best you can do?’ he demanded.

‘Bran didn’t complain.’

Jack snatched the bundle from her, dumped it on the floor and pulled her into his arms to kiss her squarely on her protesting mouth, while the dog frisked round them, obviously thinking it was some kind of game. ‘I like that kind of kiss,’ Jack informed her as he let her go.

‘I’ll make a note of it,’ Kate said breathlessly, and tore a sheet from the roll of kitchen paper. ‘Here, lose the lipstick. That shade just isn’t you.’

Jack grinned and scrubbed at his mouth. ‘Come and sit down. I’ve made coffee.’

‘I’ll deal with this lot first. Where’s your washing machine?’

‘Leave it. Molly will do it.’

‘Certainly not, I will,’ Kate said firmly. ‘And if you show me where you keep your spare bed linen I’ll make the bed, too.’

‘You never used to be so bossy,’ he complained, and took the laundry into the boot room, which was fitted with every conceivable aid for washing, drying and ironing, along with a refrigerator and vast freezer, and floor to ceiling cupboards for food storage.

Kate smiled as she saw the small folding stepladder near the tall cupboards. ‘That’s for Molly, I assume. This is very impressive, Jack, but why a boot room?’

‘This end of the house contained the actual living quarters for the mill owner, with a scullery here where the boots were cleaned by the boy employed for the job.’

Once the washing machine was in action Jack insisted Kate had some coffee before she put clean linen on the spare bed.

He perched on the corner of the table, one foot swinging. ‘In fact, I’ve got a better idea. I’ve started the fire in the living room and even tidied up a bit, so you can lie on the sofa there and read the Sunday papers with Bran while I do the bed.’

She smiled warmly. ‘An offer I can’t refuse! Thank you, Jack.’

In the morning sunshine, with flames leaping in the fireplace and two brand-new paperback novels placed beside the Sunday papers on the rosewood table, the living room looked very inviting. Bran deserted Kate instantly to lie on the rug in front of the fire, and she added more logs, bent to stroke the dog, and then curled up in a corner of the sofa. She read a few headlines in the papers but, unable to resist any longer, picked up one of the books, a thriller she’d intended to buy the moment it was out in the bookshops.

The story was riveting from the first page. But almost at once the warmth of the fire combined with her disturbed night to add weight to her eyelids and soon she put the book down and lay back against the new cushions. She stirred to the touch of familiar lips on hers and her mouth curved in response as her eyes opened on a look in Jack’s which turned her heart over. He stretched out beside her and caught her close, and Kate felt his heart hammer against her as his mouth crushed hers in a kiss that went on and on until neither could breathe and his lips left hers to cover her face and throat with kisses as he slid his hands up her ribs. He pushed the sweatshirt up until his lips found her breasts and she gave a low, gasping moan as he held her in an embrace that threatened to crush her ribs.

‘When I woke up this morning,’ he said hoarsely, ‘I wanted this so much I could barely breathe.’

‘I wanted it too,’ she said huskily, and buried her face against his neck.

‘I wish I’d known that.’ He turned her face up to his. ‘Tell me about your dream last night. What sent you running headlong down the stairs?’