Mills & Boon Christmas Delights Collection. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘The fact that you have to think that hard about it!’
‘Oh, don’t be such a prude.’
‘I am not a prude! But neither have I ever left anywhere “sans knickers”. Although frankly they’re so small as to be practically pointless anyway.’
‘I think they were more for effect.’
‘Clearly they had the desired one.’
He tilted his head at me and grinned. ‘Are you jealous?’
‘What? Of course I’m not jealous. Don’t be ridiculous.’
He gave me a look. ‘If you say so.’
‘I most certainly do say so. Now, what do you want to do with these? Will you be seeing her again and able to return them?’
He scrunched his face. ‘Doubt it.’
‘Oh. So you do at least remember who they belong to now? That’s something I suppose.’
‘I thought you said you weren’t going to be judgemental.’
‘I said that about your nephew. Not you.’
‘OK. Then for your records – as you seem to make them for everything – her name was Eva. She’s a Russian model, incredibly beautiful. I had an early morning appointment and she was very snappy that she had to leave early, from what I remember. Apparently not a morning person.’
‘Whereas I’m sure you’re absolutely delightful.’ My tone implied I believed he was probably anything but.
‘I am the epitome of cheer.’
I threw a disbelieving glance.
‘Just bin them. She won’t be calling.’
‘Sure?’
‘Positive. I got the impression she didn’t get turfed out of a man’s bed at 6 a.m. very often.’
‘I imagine not.’
‘In my defence, I had told her about the appointment and that I needed to leave early the following morning.’
‘I guess she didn’t think that applied to her too.’
‘I was hardly going to leave her alone in my house all day. I’d only met her that evening.’
‘And yet deemed that long enough to take her to bed.’
‘It wasn’t like I dragged her here. She came of her own free will.’ His eyes danced with mirth at the double entendre. I flung the pants at him and walked out of the room.
‘Can I ask you something?’ I said, as I hauled some more ‘accumulated items’ out from the wardrobe.
‘I should think so. Can’t guarantee I’ll answer it but you can give it a go.’
I shot him a look that told him what I thought of that reply.
He shrugged. ‘Honest answer,’ he said, disappearing under the bed to unearth whatever treasures lay under there. After the pants incident, we’d decided to swap places.
‘Evasive answer,’ I said, stretching on my tiptoes to reach the higher items. My fingertips brushed them and I took a step back, looking to see if there was a chair I could use. I giggled as my gaze fell on Michael. He was wriggling about under the bed, pulling things out, interspersed with the occasional sneeze. What particularly caught my eye was how nice his bum looked in those jeans. I hadn’t actually noticed before, but it really was –
‘You’ve gone quiet. That makes me suspicious.’ His statement interrupted my thoughts.
‘What?’ I said, blushing and supremely glad he was still wedged under the bed so he couldn’t see.
‘You said you were going to ask a question and then just went silent. Should I be worried?’
‘No. I was just concentrating on…something.’
Which most definitely wasn’t how nice your bum is.
‘Right.’
I removed a pile of jackets from a chair tucked in the corner of the room and placed it in front of the wardrobe. Stepping up, I pulled out the pile of boxes from the top shelf. Turning, I jumped and wobbled as I found Michael stood in front of me.
Automatically, his hands shot out and rested on my waist. ‘Steady on.’
‘Do you have a stealth mode or something? Two seconds ago you were under that bed.’
‘You learn to be quiet in a big family if you want to sneak out when you’re supposed to be grounded.’
‘And I imagine that was probably quite often.’
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you’re implying.’
‘I’m sure you do. Now take these for me, would you?’
He took the pile of items off me and put them down on the floor, along with all the other items we’d so far emptied from storage. I turned back to grab a few more items. Balancing on one leg, I reached up and stretched my fingers to pull the last items towards me. The chair gave a little wobble and I gripped the shelf to steady myself. I heard Michael mutter something under his breath and a moment later, two large hands were on my waist lifting me off the chair. He plonked me down on the floor and waited until I was entirely stable before removing them.
‘Excuse me! I haven’t quite finished!’
‘You’ve definitely finished balancing precariously on chairs in my home. And anywhere else, I hope. You’re going to damn well break something if you keep that up!’
I stood straighter, going into defence mode.
‘In the nearly seven years I’ve been doing this, I have never once broken any possession of any client. So your items are entirely safe, I assure you.’
He screwed up his face for a moment. ‘I’m not talking about possessions. I’m talking about you! I’d really prefer it if you didn’t fall off and break your neck, if it’s all the same to you.’
‘That wasn’t my plan. Besides, I’ve done it hundreds of times. I was perfectly all right.’
He looked down at me, still close from when he’d lifted me off the chair.
‘I don’t care if you’ve done it millions of times. I’d rather you didn’t do it any more.’
‘Some of us aren’t blessed with your height. I need to be able to get to places.’
‘Then use a stepladder! Something made for the purpose that you can hold on to. And don’t overstretch yourself like you were just doing. It’s going to end badly one day if you keep on like that. I’m amazed it hasn’t already.’
I gave a huff. ‘I still need those last few bits out of that wardrobe.’ I pointed to where I’d been a few minutes before. Michael reached up to get the bits I couldn’t, his T-shirt rising up as he did so, exposing the muscles of his lower back, twisting and taut as he felt around for anything left. I really ought to be looking away. Ideally.
Shortly after Janey had sat back down the other night, Michael had wandered off and, moments later, was leaning against a wall, chatting to a blonde that had been eyeing him up since the moment he’d walked in. From the way she’d been leaning into him and touching his arm every few seconds, it was apparent that his pastime of trying to get a reaction out of me had been transferred to his current company – although, admittedly, the reaction he was aiming for, and clearly getting, in that situation was entirely different to the one he aimed for, and annoyingly, usually got, from me. Absentmindedly, I wondered if his current practice of ‘not giving anyone a tour of the house’ might change once it was in a better state. Somehow, I doubted it. The fact that he kept his bedroom so impersonal hinted to me that