Mistresses: Bound with Gold / Bought with Emeralds. Sandra MartonЧитать онлайн книгу.
she hadn’t been in a very good mood when she had opened that door to Ray and the note of censure in his tone had been the last straw. ‘What I wear for work is between my employer and me…’ she had retorted coolly, and then with a toss of her long dark hair she had marched past him out of the door. ‘He’s in the lounge.’ She had thrown the words casually back over her shoulder. ‘And tell him never to ring me like that again.’
Murdo had been infuriating sometimes, she reflected wryly as she put the photo down. For some reason during the brief period of Ray’s visit last summer he had got it into his head that she and Ray would make a good couple. It had been a crazy notion, not only because they didn’t even like each other, but because Caitlin was with David—had in fact been living with David for three years.
After a couple of weeks of heavy innuendos Murdo had finally come out and asked her directly if she was attracted to Ray. She remembered she had blushed wildly when she had told him that she most definitely was not. Even now she didn’t know why that question had made her so hot and bothered. Murdo had found her reaction amusing. He hadn’t been a man given much to laughter, at least not in the two years Caitlin had known him, but he had laughed that day, a rich, warm chuckle that had even made her grin.
‘I’m in love with David,’ she reminded him when he continued to laugh.
‘If you say so.’ Murdo grinned.
‘Yes I do say so, we’re engaged to be married.’ She waved her diamond ring in front of his eyes.
‘You’ve been wearing that since you first worked for me,’ Murdo said dismissively. ‘And you’ve only just set a wedding date.’
She frowned. ‘I know Ray is very good-looking, Murdo, but then so does he. He is arrogant and not my type at all.’ Murdo’s deep blue eyes twinkled in amusementand she thought maybe it was because she was protesting too much; then she realised that they were not alone. Ray was standing behind her in the doorway of the bedroom. If ever Caitlin wished the ground would open up and swallow her it was that day.
She attempted to apologise to him later, good manners forbidding her to just leave it. So she caught him when his visit with Murdo was over and he was heading for the front door.
‘I’m really sorry about…before…you know…’ She had tried not to be intimidated by the steady way his dark eyes held hers. ‘Murdo was winding me up and…well…I shouldn’t have risen to the bait.’
‘You don’t need to apologise,’ he said and in contrast to her he sounded completely self-assured. His lips twisted in a half smile that was slightly mocking. ‘The fact is, you’re not my type either.’
Then he turned, leaving her wishing she hadn’t bothered to apologise.
‘Why didn’t you warn me he was behind me?’ she asked Murdo crossly a little later.
He grinned, not at all repentant. ‘I don’t have many pleasures left in this life but one of them is very definitely watching the sparks that fly between you and Ray.’ Then the smile faded and suddenly he grew tired of the game and became cantankerous. ‘I haven’t taken my medicine yet…You know how I hate being even five minutes late with it…’
Murdo hadn’t been the easiest of patients she reflected now, but she was going to miss him. There had been something almost endearing about him even at his most crotchety.
‘Your house is a bit of a mess, Murdo.’ She spoke aloud as she looked around, her voice sounding strange in the enclosed space. ‘But I appreciate the thought nevertheless.’
‘You know that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness.’
The voice from behind her was so unexpected that she jumped violently and spun around, her torch unsteadily wavering over the white sheets, her heart thundering against her breast.
A man stood silhouetted against the open door and for a crazy second she thought it was Murdo returning from the grave to answer her. But the outline in the doorway was that of a more powerfully built man, he was taller, the shoulders broader.
‘I wondered when you’d turn up.’ His French accent was dryly amused, not at all ghostly, and suddenly very familiar.
‘Ray! You scared the life out of me!’ She shone her torch onto him and he held a hand up to shield his eyes from the glare. The yellow beam glinted over the raindrops in his short dark hair and she noticed he wore a heavy oilskin jacket over jeans. It was a far cry from the way he had dressed when she’d seen him in England—back then he’d always worn smart suits. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ she asked, lowering the beam of light from his face.
‘I was on my way up to the house and saw your car.’
‘Up to the house?’ She was truly mystified.
‘My house.’ His voice was acerbic now. ‘I live about six kilometres further on up this road.’
‘Oh! I didn’t know…Well, I knew you lived in France, of course…’ She felt flustered and confused. ‘But Murdo told me you had an apartment in Paris now, so I assumed you had moved from around here.’
‘I do have an apartment in Paris—I use it for work—but my home is here in the south.’
There was an edge to those words that she didn’t understand. Why did she always feel out of kilter when she was talking to him? Caitlin wondered. Why did he unnerve her so much? Was he telling her that she was on his territory and she wasn’t welcome?
The rain seemed to be increasing outside and a bright flash of lightning lit the room, followed a few moments later by the distant rumble of thunder. And suddenly it didn’t really matter that Ray’s manner was unwelcoming; at least he was another human being, and in the unknown surroundings a familiar face was reassuring. ‘Well, I’m glad I’ll have a neighbour I know,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I’ll be able to pop over if I run out of sugar. That’s an unexpected bonus.’
‘You are not thinking of staying here…are you?’
The shocked incredulity in his voice made Caitlin hesitate; she didn’t honestly know what she was going to do. The plans she had made back in England now seemed absurd. She had dreamed of turning this place into a small guest-house. A vision she had unwisely shared with a few colleagues and friends who had all delightedly assured her they wanted to be the first to book themselves in.
Caitlin cringed as she imagined the expression on their faces if they could see this property. And when word travelled around the circle of their friends and David heard…he would probably laugh. The thought of David laughing at her was almost the last straw.
He had accused her of being too impulsive when she had finished with him and his tone had been patronising. He had honestly believed that she wouldn’t call the wedding off. He’d thought that she would make a token visit to her mother down in London and then return to him, her common sense restored.
And then she had inherited this house and it had been like a lifeline…
Another flash of lightning lit the room and for a second Ray had a clear view of Caitlin, dark hair bedraggled around a face that looked far too pale and eyes that shimmered intensely green.
‘I’ll decide what I’m going to do once I can look at the place properly in the daylight.’ She angled her chin up stubbornly; she wasn’t going to give up on her dream that easily.
‘But you can’t stay here tonight,’ he continued softly.
The sudden gentleness of his tone took her aback.
‘Well, I suppose I’ll go down to the village and book into a hotel.’
‘I don’t think so.’ He turned away and glanced out of the door. ‘The roads further down the mountain will be flooded now. Plus I think you’ll find it hard to go anywhere in your car.’
‘What do you mean?’ She crossed to stand beside him at the door. The sky was a forbidding