In Bed With...Collection. Emma DarcyЧитать онлайн книгу.
actors making their mark in television shows. But this man…what was it that had her heart racing and her stomach fluttering?
His hair was dark brown and cut so short the wave in it was barely noticeable. Somehow the lack of careful styling made his dark brown eyes more riveting. Or maybe it was the unusual shape of them, his eyelids drooping in a way that made them look triangular and incredibly sexy. A strong straight nose, a strong squarish jaw and a strongly sculptured mouth added to the male impact of his face. He would have been perfectly cast as James Bond, Laura thought, and had the nervous feeling he was just as dangerous as the legendary 007 character.
He had the physique to go with it, too. As tall as her father but more lethally lean and looking powerfully masculine in his black jeans and black-and-white sports shirt, the long sleeves casually rolled up to the elbows, revealing hard muscular forearms. Jake Freedman was so male, it was stirring everything female in her. Even though she knew he was her father’s man, it was impossible not to feel interested in him.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said, offering his hand with a smile that made him even sexier.
‘Likewise,’ Laura replied, extending her own hand and finding it subjected to an electric sensation that was so shocking she wanted to snatch it away. ‘Please come in,’ she rattled out, needing movement to excuse the quick extraction from physical contact with him.
‘Daughter of the house,’ he repeated musingly as he stepped inside. ‘Does that mean you still live here at home?’
The curious assessment in his eyes gave her the sense he was summing up possibilities between them. ‘Yes. It’s a big house,’ she answered drily. Big enough to keep out of her father’s way most of the time.
Jake Freedman had to be years older than her university friends, given his position in her father’s business, and remembering that unpleasant fact she should avoid him like the plague, apart from getting through this visit today. They would have nothing—absolutely nothing—in common.
‘The family is enjoying the sunshine on the back patio,’ she said, leading him down the wide hallway that bisected the house. ‘I’ll take you out to Dad, then bring you some refreshments. What would you like to drink?’
‘A glass of iced water would be fine, thank you.’
It surprised her. ‘Not a Scotch on the rocks man like my father?’
‘No.’
‘What about a vodka martini?’
‘Just water.’
Well, he wasn’t James Bond, she thought, swallowing down a silly giggle.
‘Do you have a job, Laura?’
‘Yes, I’m a Director of First Impressions.’ It was okay to let the laughter gurgle out at his puzzled expression. ‘I read it in the newspaper this morning,’ she explained. ‘It’s the title now given to a receptionist.’
‘Ah!’ He smiled at the pretentiousness of it.
‘You know what they call a window cleaner?’
‘Please enlighten me.’
‘A vision clearance executive.’
He laughed, making his megawatt attractiveness zoom even higher.
‘A teacher is a knowledge navigator,’ Laura rattled on, trying to ignore his effect on her. ‘And a librarian is an information retrieval specialist. I can’t remember the rest of the list. All the titles were very wordy.’
‘So putting it simply, you’re a receptionist.’
‘Part-time at a local medical practice. I’m still at uni, doing landscape architecture. It’s a four-year degree program and I’m currently making my way through the last year.’
‘Working and studying? Your father doesn’t support you?’ he queried, obviously not quite in tune with a wealthy man who wouldn’t finance his children’s full education.
She slanted him a derisive look. ‘My father doesn’t support what he doesn’t approve of. You should know that since you work with him.’
‘But you’re his daughter.’
‘Who was expected to fall in with his wishes. I’m allowed to live here. That’s as much support as my father will give to my career choice.’
‘Perhaps you should have sought complete independence.’
It was an odd remark, coming from a man who had to have made an art form of falling in with her father’s wishes. However, she wasn’t about to discuss the dynamics of her family with an outsider, particularly not someone who specialised in siding with her father.
‘My mother needs me.’
It was a brief reply and all he was going to get from her. She opened the back door and ushered him out to the patio, quickly announcing, ‘Your Jake is here, Dad.’
‘Ah!’ Her father rose from his chair at the patio table, which was strewn with the Sunday newspapers. His whole face beamed a welcome at the man who was undoubtedly performing up to his expectations in every respect. ‘Good to see you here, Jake. Beautiful autumn day, isn’t it?’
‘Couldn’t be better,’ he agreed, moving forward to shake her father’s offered hand.
Confident, smooth, at ease with himself and the situation…and Laura definitely wasn’t. She felt dreadfully at odds with the strong tug of attraction that wouldn’t go away. It was wrong. It had to be wrong. The last thing she wanted was a man like her father messing with her life.
‘Go and fetch your mother, Laura. She’s showing Eddie the latest innovations in the garden. You can tell them both to come and meet our guest.’
‘Will do,’ she said, glad to leave the two men together, though knowing that the stirring of the family pot couldn’t be delayed for long. Her father expected instant obedience to his call.
The garden was her mother’s refuge. She was never happier than when discussing what could be done next to it with Nick Jeffries, the handyman who shared her enthusiasm for creating wonderful visual effects and did all the heavy work for her. Laura loved this garden, too, loved every aspect of landscape design, making something beautiful instead of tearing something down…as her father did.
And as Jake Freedman did.
It would be stupid to forget that. She could never, never be in tune with a mind that dealt with destruction.
‘Mum, Eddie…’ she called out. They were by the rockpool, where Nick had installed the new solar lights. ‘Dad’s guest is here.’
Her mother’s smile of pleasure instantly drooped into a grimace. She darted an anxious look at her son, worried about an imminent clash of personalities.
Eddie hugged her shoulders, smiling reassurance. ‘I promise I’ll be good, Mum. No bad boy today.’
It won a wry little laugh.
Eddie made a great bad boy in the soap opera he currently starred in. The wild flop of his thick black hair, the designer stubble along his angular jawline, the dimple in his chiselled chin, the piercing blue eyes…all made him a very popular pin-up, especially on his flash motorbike. He was wearing black leathers today, though he was now carrying his jacket, discarded because of the heat of the morning. His white T-shirt was emblazoned with a Harley-Davidson. He played a bikie and he looked like one, much to her father’s disgust.
The three of them started strolling back towards the patio, son and daughter flanking their mother, determined to keep a happy ball rolling for her. Why she stayed with their father was beyond their comprehension. There was no joy in the marriage. Having a very dominant husband who controlled everything seemed to have sapped her of any will for an independent life.
Laura always thought of her mother as a lady, never anything but beautifully dressed and groomed, imbued