8 Magnificent Millionaires. Cathy WilliamsЧитать онлайн книгу.
had himself to blame. It had been a miracle that she hadn’t walked out that night there and then, and, against his better judgement, Adrian had been unable to deny his relief that she hadn’t. What would she think, he asked himself, if she knew it was getting to be almost torture for him to be around her? That he had deliberately distanced himself from her both mentally and physically because right now he didn’t trust himself to cope with this passionate attraction that he had developed for her? That if she could see into the vivid pictures of his mind she would discover for herself his amazing proclivity for sexual fantasy as far as she was concerned? Because in all of his fantasies, Liadan was the star…
‘I didn’t ask. My fringe would hide it anyway.’
‘Don’t you care?’
‘Unlike some people, I don’t believe you have to be perfect to be attractive. A little scar’s not going to damage me psychologically. I’m just glad I didn’t do any worse damage.’ To Adrian’s surprise, Liadan turned her head to regard him with a steady blue gaze. ‘Besides…flawed people are always more interesting, don’t you think?’
What was she getting at exactly? Was she having a snipe at him, believing him to be one of those people who desired physical perfection in a mate? She couldn’t be more wrong if she did, Adrian thought vehemently. What he found attractive was somebody real. Outwardly perfect good looks with nothing of substance inside left him cold.
‘All right, Liadan. What’s bothering you? I sense some underlying agenda here. Perhaps we should stop and talk?’
Before Liadan realised his intention, Adrian had pulled into a lay-by and switched off the engine. Now her heart started to clang like the toll of a great bell inside her chest as the small, confined space in the car seemed to grow rapidly smaller.
‘I thought you didn’t talk with the hired help?’ she said sarcastically, blue eyes challenging him to refute her statement. For a few anxious moments she watched his hands curl around the leather-covered steering wheel as if garnering control, and she couldn’t help noting the strong, well-defined knuckles and the sprinkling of dark hairs that covered them with a little jolt in her chest. Remembering how gentle his fingers had been as they’d caressed her jaw when he’d kissed her, heat rippled, unguarded, right through her body in a heady rush.
‘You want me to apologise for what I said the other night?’
‘If you have to ask me if I want you to, then the answer is no. I don’t want you to apologise. You don’t even have to put yourself out to be overly pleasant—judging by your mood the last two days, it’s obviously not something that you consider a priority. But don’t worry, because I can handle it. I don’t need your approval or admiration to do a good job. My only stake in this relationship is the fact that I work for you and I would like to keep things that way so that I can pay my mortgage on my cottage. Simple.’
‘Then let me assure you right away that you’re in no danger of losing your job, Liadan. You don’t think I’d willingly let go someone who can play the piano like an angel in a hurry, do you?’
Venturing a glance from beneath her curling red-gold lashes, Liadan was deeply disturbed by the fact that Adrian was smiling. Did he know what a deadly piece of weaponry in the battle of the sexes that smile was? Or how thoroughly it submerged her senses in scorching, sensual heat and guilty, guilty pleasure?
‘Let me remind you, you didn’t hire me to entertain you with my piano playing,’ she said tartly. ‘You hired me to take care of your house.’
‘And me. Don’t forget that very important little fact.’
‘Perhaps what you need is a mother, in that case,’ she snapped.
‘What I need,’ Adrian emphasised huskily, ‘is you in my bed, Liadan. But as that would definitely be exceeding the bounds of our contract and you are obviously anxious to keep our relationship purely professional, I suppose I will have to make do with having you as my housekeeper. But I want you to know the sacrifice is killing me.’
With those wide, muscular shoulders and the devil’s own twinkle in his wicked dark eyes, he was temptation personified and Liadan warned her thoughts not to speculate just how the sacrifice was killing him. Already she was undone just sitting beside him in the car. If she didn’t make a huge effort to steer the situation into safer waters she might find herself telling him that she wouldn’t mind exceeding the bounds of their contract, and then where would she be?
‘We should be getting home. I’ve got laundry to do, and shopping and—’
‘Liadan?’
‘What?’
‘Never mind. Let’s get back, shall we?’
Changing his mind abruptly about what he’d been going to say, Adrian started the engine, then steered the car expertly out of the lay-by back onto the road. Secretly alarmed at the fact that he had almost succumbed to a very weak moment and told Liadan the cause of his torment, he congratulated himself for being strong enough to pull back. How could this pretty, inexperienced girl help him in any way other than easing a purely physical ache? She couldn’t, he realised with bitterness. End of story.
‘Taking the opportunity to get some fresh air, lass?’ George leant against his shovel and observed her thoughtfully as Liadan came up the path towards him. Instead of her long tweed coat to keep out the cold, she wore a soft, light blue suede jacket over a white roll-necked sweater with figure-hugging black jeans. With her long hair scooped up in a very fetching top-knot, she looked as pretty as a picture to the older man’s doting gaze. ‘Saw Mr Jacobs drive by about ten minutes ago. Gone into town, has he?’
Glancing round at the picturesque scene that met her eyes, at rich green winter gardens that were starting to reveal their beauty now that the snow had finally gone, Liadan was more than glad that she’d ridden the storm and kept her job. If Adrian continued to maintain what he deemed a professional distance then she ought to be thankful, not unhappy. When all was said and done, no matter how much she found herself attracted to her brooding, aloof employer, she was realistic enough to know that there could be no ‘happy ever after’ where they were concerned. If she let herself become more intimate with him, all it would do would set up an even worse restlessness inside Liadan than she was coping with already and make her yearn for the fulfilment of a dream that was clearly impossible. She’d already wasted eighteen long months waiting for Michael to make up his mind about her—she wouldn’t do the same with Adrian. Not that she believed for even a second that he would want anything more than a short, hot affair with her…
‘It’s such a glorious day,’ she confessed, smiling, ‘I couldn’t resist playing hookey.’
‘You’re far too young to be confined to that big old house,’ George agreed. ‘Fancy taking a walk with me? I’ll show you around a bit.’
‘Oh, I’d love that!’ Liadan enthused, her heart lifting at the prospect.
The gardens stretched much further afield than she had ever imagined. Path after path revealed something new—treasures like the orangery, a grotto with hundreds upon hundreds of seashells embedded deep within its walls, and winter blooms including snow-drops and crocuses in breathtaking abundance. Enchanted at nearly every turn, Liadan forgot her cares and concerns as she completely succumbed to the magic of Adrian’s gardens and George’s quietly authoritative garden lore.
‘People often make the mistake of thinking they can control the garden, but what they soon learn is that the garden controls them. It takes you over completely. Watering, weeding, digging, pruning, spraying, it becomes an obsession after a while. One I wouldn’t willingly give up and that’s the truth.’
‘I can tell that you love it,’ Liadan commented with a smile, ‘but don’t you find all this work a bit much for just yourself and your son?’
Somehow, Liadan couldn’t bring herself to say ‘Steven’. She was still wary and smarting from their last upsetting encounter. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be around today, either. Her blue eyes darted