Swept Into The Rich Man's World

‘Why not?’

‘Because...’

This woman was impossible. Why wouldn’t she accept his help? She was as bad as Orla.

He gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Aideen, will you stop being a pain and just agree to letting William sort out the renovations...? It’s not a big deal. And I don’t know about you, but I have better things to be doing than standing here arguing about my motives.’

* * *

Not a big deal to him, perhaps, but it was to her. She needed to rebuild her life by herself, on her own terms.

Bewildered, she said, ‘You don’t even know me.’

‘So? You’re my neighbour. That’s a good enough reason for me to want to help.’

He made it all sound so simple. And for a moment she wanted to believe him. But then a siren of warning sounded in her brain. She needed to be in control of her own life. ‘I don’t want to sound ungrateful, and I do appreciate your offer, but I have to manage the renovations by myself.’

‘And what if your business suffers as a result?’

She flinched at the truth of his words. Ballymore was twenty miles away, on twisting roads. Trying to manage the renovations and run her business from a hotel room was going to be a nightmare.

Frustration at the whole situation had her arguing back. ‘I’ll manage.’

His mouth tensed at the anger in her voice and he considered her through narrowed eyes. ‘You are stubborn, aren’t you?’

‘So it has been said in the past,’ she muttered.

On an exasperated exhalation he folded his arms. ‘Your business has to be your number one priority. William will sort out the renovations. You will move in here until the cottage is ready, and on Sunday you will come to Paris with me.’

A bolt of pain radiated through his jawline as he clamped his teeth together. Hard. For a few seconds he wondered at the words he had so casually tossed out. Disquiet rumbled in his stomach. Was he about to walk into a minefield of complications by inviting this woman into his life? But in an instant he killed that doubt. This was the right thing to do. She needed his help. Even if the horror in her eyes told him that she wasn’t ready to accept it yet.

Stupefied, Aideen stared at him for the longest while, waiting for him to give the tiniest indication that he was joking. But his mouth didn’t twitch...his eyes didn’t soften.

She gave a laugh of disbelief. ‘Are you being serious?’

‘Yes. I have meetings in Paris all of next week. You said yourself that you should be out meeting clients. Well, now is your opportunity. I have a chateau close to Paris we can use.’

‘But I would be intruding.’

‘Look, you’ve seen the size of Ashbrooke. My chateau outside Paris is large, too. You can set up a temporary studio there for the week. We can keep out of each other’s way.’

Shaking her head, she folded her arms across her chest. ‘You said last night you like living on your own...and so do I. It won’t work.’

‘We’ll lead our own lives. I’m simply offering you a bed and a place to work—both here and in Paris. You come and go as you please. My chauffeur will be available to you whenever you need him. It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.’

‘But why?’

‘What is it with you and your questions? Why don’t you believe that I’m just trying to be a good neighbour? That it’s the right thing to do? I admire your tenacity and I want to support you in rebuilding your business. I think you need help even if you are too stubborn to admit it yourself.’

Taken aback by the powerful intensity of his words, she wavered a little. ‘I’d pay you back.’

Taking a deep breath, he said with exasperation, ‘I don’t want your money. Can’t you just accept it as a neighbourly gesture?’

‘I’ll be paying rent.’

He held up his hands. ‘Fine. You can pay me once your insurance money comes through. Now I need to get back to work. I’ll show you to the library, where you can work today. Use the same bedroom as last night to sleep in.’ Out in the corridor, he added, ‘You met my housekeeper, Maureen, earlier. Speak to her if you need anything. I’ll get William to call in to see you and together you can discuss the renovation plans.’

She followed him to the library. Was she crazy to agree to this? But it was the only sensible option open to her. Wasn’t it she who had said she would do anything to make her business a success? Just how hard would it be to move into his house for a month? She would have the space she needed and she would be close by the cottage to keep an eye on the renovations. And she did need to go to Paris.

It was a no-brainer, really. But could she really cope with living under the same roof as him? When there was this strange push-and-pull thing going on between them...attraction vying with wariness?

But it wasn’t as if he was welcoming her with open arms anyway. He was a busy man who travelled the world. She mightn’t see him for most of the time she was his guest.

A little while later, she was about to go about unpacking her car when she glanced around to see him watching her with a dark intensity.

How long would it take for him to regret asking her to stay? If he wasn’t already doing so...?

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_a7b836e4-301f-543d-878d-802c5132bbd3)

MONDAY MORNING. THEY HAD flown to Paris the day before, and today he had a number of client and in-house meetings before him. The acquisition had gone through on Friday evening.

He had set Aideen up with a temporary studio space in the library of the chateau, and she planned on spending the day organising meetings with clients.

He jogged past the walled garden in the grounds of the chateau and then broke into a sprint. He had dined out last night with his French management team. Glad to have an excuse to leave the chateau and her offer to cook them dinner.

They had both worked on the plane over yesterday afternoon, but he had found his gaze repeatedly wandering towards her, intrigued by how absorbed she had been in her work. With her hair swept up into a messy bun she had stared at her laptop screen, her long fingers tapping the delicate column of her neck in thought. And he had wondered what it would be like to have those fingers run against his skin.

After that, the thought of sharing dinner alone with her had set alarm bells off in his brain. He had to keep his distance.

Taking the steps of the garden two at a time, he ran across the stone terrace that traversed the entire length of the back of the sixteenth-century chateau. He entered the house and walked towards the kitchen. Was that baking he smelt?

An explosion of household goods were scattered across the surface of the island. The shells of juiced oranges, an upturned egg carton, an open milk bottle teetering precariously on the edge of the unit. Behind them, a trail of baking tins and bowls was scattered along the kitchen counter.

He turned to the sound of footsteps out in the corridor. Aideen walked towards him, a huge bunch of multi-coloured tulips in her arms, a carton of eggs in her hand, rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed, a wide smile on her face. Her hair, thick glossy waves of soft chestnut curls, fell down her back.

‘Oh, you’re back.’ She flashed him a quick smile before her gaze darted guiltily to the chaos behind him. ‘I thought you would be out for a while yet.’

‘What’s happened to the kitchen?’

‘I’m making breakfast. I hope you don’t mind.’

Actually, he did. He wanted his kitchen clean and tidy, as it usually was. Not this mess.

She sidestepped him and began to search through the kitchen cupboards.

He gritted his teeth and tried to resist the urge to start clearing up the mess himself. His stomach, however, had very different thoughts as it rumbled at the delicious sweet smells of baking.

She plopped the tulips in a vase she had found in a cupboard and placed it on the kitchen table. ‘I met your gardener earlier, and he gave me the use of his bike to cycle down to the village so that I could go to the boulangerie. But then I ran out of eggs, so I had to go again. The cycle down is easy but, boy, the hill back up is tricky. The countryside here is beautiful, and the village is so pretty. When I came back he gave me these flowers from the garden—aren’t they stunning?’