British Bachelors: Gorgeous and Impossible. Jessica HartЧитать онлайн книгу.
door and flinging it open. The top garment bag had slipped a little down the back of the driver’s seat, so she tugged it free and folded it over one arm before grabbing hold of her travel bag with one hand and slinging the shoulder strap of her overnight case across the front of her jacket.
Lexi pushed the car door closed with one foot and looked around for Mark. He was standing open-mouthed, still watching her from the terrace as though he could hardly believe what he was looking at.
Lexi rolled her eyes, took a firmer hold of her bag and tottered across the pebbles of the car park onto the patio steps. ‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said, ‘I’ve left the heavy bags down by the car. Any time today will be good.’
‘No problem,’ Mark murmured under his breath. ‘The porter will be right with you.’
He reached for his shoes, which he had stashed under the lounger. Unfortunately, as he bent over, Lexi tottered past his very fine rear end in her high-heeled sandals, and as he stood up his elbow jogged the overnight bag she was carrying.
At exactly the same moment the slippery silk fabric of her garment bag slipped down her arm. She snatched at it with the hand holding the travel bag, twisting her body round to stop it from falling to the ground.
And she took one step backwards.
The stiletto heel of her right sandal hit the smooth marble edge of the swimming pool, her right leg shot forward, she completely lost her balance and instinctively flung both arms out to compensate.
For one millisecond she was airborne. Arms twirling around in wide circles, both legs in the air, luggage thrown out to each side and the thin silk fabric of her overdress inflated up to her waist as a parachute.
She squeezed her eyes tight shut and prepared herself for a dunking in the swimming pool. But instead her feet lifted even higher off the ground as a long, strong arm grabbed her around the waist and another arm swept under her legs, taking her weight effortlessly.
Lexi flashed open her eyes, gave a high squeak of terror, and flung both her arms around Mark’s neck by sheer instinct, pressing herself tight onto his shirt. Unfortunately she forgot that she was still clutching her travel bag for dear life, and succeeded in hitting Mark on the back of the head with it.
To his credit, he gave only a low, deep sigh instead of yelling like a schoolboy.
She opened her mouth to apologise, then closed it again. Her lungs seemed to have forgotten how to work and her breathing had become a series of short panting noises—which would have been perfect for a spaniel but which, from her lips, managed to sound both pathetic and wheezy at the same time.
She had never been picked up before.
And the last time she’d been this close to a handsome man had been on Valentine’s night, when her ex-boyfriend had confessed he’d been sleeping with a girl she’d thought was her friend. So it would be fair to say that it hadn’t ended well.
This, on the other hand, was turning out to be a much more positive experience.
Below his loose blue shirt Mark was muscular, warm and solid against her body, and in the position he was holding her their faces were only inches apart. His eyes locked onto hers, and suddenly it made perfect sense just to lie there in his arms while he took her weight.
Up close, she could see that his eyes were not a perfectly clear blue, as his mother’s had been, but were flecked with slivers of darker blue and grey, so that under the shade of the terrace they looked like a cloudy summer sky.
His wiry dark brown hair was curled at the base of his neck with the heat of the afternoon, and she inhaled an intoxicating aroma of some fragrant shampoo or shower gel, freshly laundered linen shirt and something much deeper and muskier.
She had no clue what it was, but that extra something had the power to make her heart beat faster than was probably safe. So fast that it was all too easy to recall that she was here to work. Not to cuddle the client or to partially strangle him with her arms after trying to knock him out.
‘I should have warned you about the pool. Are you okay now?’ he asked, his voice low with concern.
She swallowed, and gave a smile and a short nod. Instantly the arm around her waist slackened and her brief adventure came to a halt as he slowly lowered her back down and her sandals made contact with solid ceramic tile.
Strange how her arms seemed reluctant to lose contact with Mark’s shirt and practically slid the full length of his chest—before the sensible part of her brain took over and reminded her that her agency contract included some rather strict rules about fraternising with the clients.
Lexi tugged down on the hem of her dress and pretended to be straightening her clothing before daring to form actual words.
‘No problem. I prefer not to go swimming fully clothed, so thanks for saving me from a dunking. And sorry about the bag.’ Her fingers waved in the direction of his head.
‘Well, at least we’re even,’ Mark replied, gesturing with his head towards the swimming pool, where her garment bag was floating on the surface and making small glugging noises.
‘Oh, drat,’ Lexi replied and her shoulders slumped. ‘There go two cocktail dresses, a business suit and a cape. The dresses I can replace, but I liked that cape.’
‘A cape?’ Mark repeated, strolling down the patio and picking up a long pole with a mesh net on the end.
‘One of my previous clients started life as a professional magician, entertaining passengers on a cruise ship,’ Lexi replied, preoccupied by watching Mark try to guide the wayward luggage to the side of the pool. Every time he got close the filter pump blew it back towards the deep end.
She winced the second time he almost had it close enough to reach.
‘Fascinating man. He told me he’d kept the cape just in case he ever needed to earn a few dollars. I pointed out that after forty years in Las Vegas the chances of that happening were slim.’ Lexi sniffed and gave a low chuckle. ‘The rascal gave me that cape the day of the launch party for his autobiography. He’d decided that his pension didn’t need boosting after all, and that at ninety-two he might be a little rusty. So we had one final performance. I was his glamorous assistant, of course. He supplied the top hat, plastic flowers and scarves. The full works. Then he patted my bottom and I threatened to cut him in half.’
She grinned. ‘Happy days. It was a great party. What a shame that a vintage cape like that is going to be ruined after all of those years in showbiz …’ Her eyes tracked slowly from the bag across to Mark, then back to the bag again, and she gave a dramatic sigh just to make sure that he’d got the message.
‘Are you always so much trouble?’ Mark asked, rolling up his trousers to reveal a surprisingly hairy pair of muscular legs before descending the steps into the shallow end of the pool and dragging the soggy garment bag onto the side.
‘Oh, no,’ Lexi replied in a totally casual, matter-of-fact voice as she grasped the handle and sloshed the bag farther onto the terrace, to join the other pieces of luggage she had abandoned there. ‘I’m usually a lot more trouble than this. You should be grateful it was the shallow end. But these are early days.’
His reply was a snort and a brief smile illuminated his face. It was the first time she had seen Mark smile, and even in the hot afternoon sunshine she felt the warmth of it on her face. And was instantly filled with remorse.
She paused and focused on her bags before breathing out slowly, eyes down.
It was time. If she was going to do this then she had better do it now and get it over with.
Mark frowned and strolled over towards her. ‘I’m sure you have enough dry clothing to last a few days. Is there something else I can help you with?’
Lexi looked up at him reluctantly and licked her lips, which were suddenly bone dry.
‘Actually, there is one more thing I need to clear up before we start working