British Bachelors: Delicious and Dangerous: The Tycoon's Delicious Distraction / The Woman Sent to Tame Him / Once a Playboy...

‘Okay. If you need me for anything, just call out.’

* * *

While Henry had been having his rest earlier Kit had made good use of the time to unpack, arrange her clothes in the walk-in wardrobe and arrange her toiletries in the bathroom. Despite there being an array of wonderfully scented products lined up on the shelves, she wouldn’t be making use of them. After all, she was here to work, not as a guest. But she was more than appreciative of the beautiful room she’d been allocated. It had a lovely view of the large neatly mown communal gardens downstairs. The verdant green was bordered by a plethora of trees, plants and shrubs, and a person might almost fool herself that she was deep in the heart of the countryside instead of practically in the centre of London.

She’d also noticed the indisputably feminine touch that the room’s decor suggested—such as the luxurious lilac curtains with matching swags that hung at the windows and the array of colourful cushions that were attractively arranged at the head of the Queen-sized bed. The silk pillows were made up of various vintage designs full of natural motifs like birds and flowers. It was definitely not a man’s room. In fact the decor was the polar opposite of the very masculine chrome and glass furnishings that the apartment’s owner obviously favoured. Was Hal’s sister Sam’s the female influence that had helped design it?

Dropping strands of linguine into a pan of boiling water in the kitchen, Kit pushed back her hair and frowned. There’d been no mention of a girlfriend or fiancée. If Henry Treverne had either then surely she would have been told of her existence in case the woman dropped in or telephoned? In the newspaper reports she’d read about the accident at the time there’d been no mention of a girlfriend—which, considering his ‘playboy’ reputation, had surprised her. Telling herself he must be between relationships, she dropped her shoulders and made herself relax. The job she did could be testing enough without relatives or ‘significant others’ keeping too close an eye on her. She always worked best when her clients trusted her judgement enough to know that she could be completely relied upon to take good care of her charge.

In the dining room that also shared a view of the communal gardens, Hal took four or five mouthfuls of the fragrant pasta Kit had carefully prepared and across the magnificent glass table gave her a rueful smile.

‘This is really good,’ he commented. ‘But I can’t say the same is true of my appetite since the accident. I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave it there. This must be a first. Anyone who knows me well would tell you that it’s unheard of for me to leave anything. Usually I can eat for England.’

‘Trauma can affect people in many different ways,’ Kit answered thoughtfully. ‘As I’m sure your sister must have told you.’

‘Trust me...she has. Sometimes I wish she wasn’t quite so all knowing.’

Wanting to convey her reassurance, and sensing that underneath the dry wit he was probably feeling understandably low, she didn’t hesitate to smile. ‘You shouldn’t worry about not having much of an appetite. I’m sure it will return in a few days, when you’ve started to feel more comfortable about getting round on your crutches and are getting more sleep. Rest is one of the greatest healers, but in our fast-paced culture it’s too often overlooked.’

Hal’s golden eyes narrowed interestedly. ‘You sound as if you have some strong views on the subject?’

Laying her fork and spoon down on her plate, Kit took a few moments to mull over the remark. ‘Moving so fast puts a lot of strain and pressure on the body as well as on the mind.’ She sighed. ‘Sometimes we need to remind ourselves that we aren’t machines. We’re flesh and blood and bone, and an overload of stress and pressure can tip us over the edge as well as cause accidents.’

‘Then I take it you definitely wouldn’t approve of someone who regularly pushes their body to the max in the pursuit of being the best he can in any sport or activity he participates in?’

‘I presume you’re talking about yourself?’ Her gaze met his arresting hazel eyes and she saw his pupils flare teasingly.

‘Yes, I am,’ he confirmed, smiling. ‘I put my heart and soul into everything I do...and I mean everything.’

Kit’s body tightened at his emphasis and a distinct buzz of sensual heat sizzled through her. The strong reaction took her aback and caused her to feel unsettled for a moment. Willing back her composure—because in all likelihood it was second nature for a man like Hal to tease women and get them flustered—she reached for her fork with a matter-of-fact air and curled some linguine round it. The man was on a hiding to nothing if he thought to unhinge her with sexual innuendos to inflate his ego, she thought. He’d soon come to learn that she was immune.

‘I’m sure that’s commendable,’ she commented, ‘but it can also be dangerous when a desire to be competitive becomes the driving force in everything you do. Wasn’t that how you came to have your accident in the first place?’

The teasing smile completely vanished from her companion’s handsome face. ‘I suppose you read that in the newspapers?’ Plucking his linen napkin from where he’d laid it across his lap, Hal threw it down on the table in disgust and scowled. ‘Newspaper reporters aren’t exactly known for telling the truth, you know.’

‘Was that a fabrication, then? That you were racing a business rival on a ski slope that’s considered to be one of the most extreme terrains in the mountains?’

‘You know what, Kit Blessington? If you ever think about a change of career you ought to consider becoming a public prosecutor. You certainly don’t take any prisoners.’

Directly meeting his irritated glance, Kit shrugged. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I would hate to be responsible for condemning anyone...whether I was paid to do it or not. And although I don’t think of what I do as a career, exactly, I’m quite happy earning my living at it and endeavouring to deliver a good service.’

Hearing the heavy sigh Hal emitted following her statement, she thought she’d better rein in her propensity to call a spade a spade before she talked herself out of a job. Antagonising a man who was already struggling to come to terms with an injury that severely restricted his usual activities was really not a good idea.

‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you with my opinions,’ she said quickly. ‘I have no desire to upset you. I suppose I just get a little passionate about the things that I believe are right.’

‘Everyone is entitled to their views, and being passionate isn’t a crime.’

There was the briefest suggestion of a smile on his beautifully carved lips and Kit was reassured.

‘In my book being passionate just means that you care,’ Henry continued, ‘Which is why I take the risks I do in my work and in the sports that I love. And besides, it’s in the male DNA to be competitive...survival of the fittest and all that.’

Unable to curb the impulse, she leaned towards him. ‘I hear what you’re saying, but don’t you get tired of having to conform to that ethos all the time?’

Rolling his eyes, Hal grimaced. ‘Right now I don’t exactly have much choice, do I?’

‘I tell you what...’ Rising to her feet, Kit had a sudden brainwave. ‘Why don’t I make us a pot of coffee and I’ll cut you a slice of home-made fruitcake to go with it? I know you didn’t feel much like eating your dinner, but that could be dessert.’

‘We’ve got home-made fruitcake?’ His previously glum expression was transformed by the most beguiling boyish grin she had ever seen.

Crossing her arms over her mint-green sweater, she couldn’t help smiling back. ‘I brought it with me from home. I made it last night. When I rang the agency to confirm that I’d got the job the manager told me that it was one of your favourites.’

‘Sam probably tipped her off. She knows I’ve a real weakness for cake...particularly fruitcake.’

‘Well, then, why don’t you just sit and relax and I’ll go and get you some?’

‘Don’t forget the coffee.’

‘I won’t.’

* * *

As Hal lingered over his coffee Kit disappeared into the kitchen to stack the dishwasher. With a contented sigh he stretched out his long legs on the couch and winced as familiar intermittent pain shot down his calf. For once he didn’t allow it to destroy his equilibrium. In truth, he regretted not making a better effort with the aromatic pasta Kit had cooked, but he’d immensely enjoyed the fruitcake she’d made. It was probably one of the best cakes he’d ever eaten. One thing was certain: if that was an example of her attention to detail on behalf of the people she worked for then she couldn’t be faulted.

Utilising the remote device by his side, Hal turned up the volume on the soothing music he was listening to. If he could just learn to curtail the impatience and restlessness that had plagued him since the accident had immobilised him then perhaps he could start to enjoy the enforced rest that he was faced with? It had literally been years since he’d had some proper respite. Most days he lived his life as though he were in a race to get to the finish line first.

In a bid to divert the less than comfortable realisation, he returned his thoughts to Kit. There was something about the feisty redhead’s presence that was undeniably reassuring. What had helped her become so capable and pragmatic? He was curious to know. Maybe over the next few days he would try to draw her out and get to know her a little? The women in his life had always bemoaned the fact that Hal didn’t give them enough of his time and attention—be they the girlfriends he’d had or his sister Sam—because he was inevitably obsessed with work and also the high-octane sports activities he favoured. If he made it a bit of a project to find out more about Kit’s background by conversing with her and really listening to what she had to say then it might help him learn how to improve his relationships with women in the future. At any rate, it was worth a try. Seeing as though all his usual distractions were denied him because of his injury, why not just embrace what was available instead?

Another knifing pain shot through his leg, but it was mostly concentrated on the muscles in his knee that had been damaged. Just as he reached down to massage it the door opened and Kit returned. As if intuiting he was in some discomfort, she came straight over to him with a concerned frown.

‘I think I should get you some ice for that knee. But first let me put some pillows underneath you to elevate it. If we do that every day then it will help reduce the swelling.’

‘You’re the boss,’ Hal quipped ruefully.

‘It’s good to know you don’t have a problem with a woman being in charge.’

‘This is a one time and one time only deal. My tolerance and acceptance will only stretch so far. Once I’m back on my feet again you’d be unwise to push any advantage you’d gained while I was laid up.’

Raising her brows, Kit responded smartly, ‘When you’re back on your feet again you’ll no longer need my services, so such a possibility won’t even arise. I’ll be looking after another client...hopefully one a little less egotistical than you. Now, I’ll just go and get a couple of pillows to elevate that knee.’

Any response he might normally have made to such an unflattering observation worryingly deserted Hal. The idea that Kit was already eagerly contemplating a new client—one ‘a little less egotistical’ than he was—seriously bothered him. And neither did he welcome the sense of vulnerability it left him with. Weakness of any kind didn’t sit well with him.

As she exited the room to fetch the pillows he breathed out a disgruntled sigh. But when she returned carrying them, and leaned towards him to carry out the necessary manoeuvre, he immediately noted that her smooth alabaster cheeks had a faintly scarlet tint to them. How interesting, he thought. Perhaps it wasn’t just his egotistical nature that ruffled this coolly efficient redhead?

‘Lift up,’ she instructed, her bright blue eyes skimming his features with the merest brief glance.

Raising himself in order that she could slide the pillows beneath him, Hal wasn’t about to let the fact go unremarked...

‘You’re blushing, Ms Blessington. Does it disturb you to get this close to your client? Because if it does I don’t know how you’re going to manage when you help me into my bath later,’ he taunted.