She had come to an abrupt halt at the sound of her name, blatantly listening to the rest of the conversation. If Lucas thought he had to baby-sit her he was mistaken!
‘God, Jennifer, you’re a mature woman of thirty-two, what attraction do you think a nineteen-year-old girl would hold for me?’ he answered the woman on the telephone exasperatedly.
Chelsea knew half-a-dozen men of his age, a couple of work colleagues, and some friends of her father, who definitely didn’t think of her as a girl!
Lucas seemed to become aware of her indignation emanating across the room at that moment, turning from his sightless gazing out of the window, his mouth tightening disapprovingly as he took in her appearance, her damp hair, the black robe, her bare legs and feet. ‘I’ll call you back, Jennifer,’ he spoke woodenly into the mouthpiece, his gaze still locked icily on Chelsea. ‘No, I’m not being difficult,’ he sighed as the woman obviously objected. ‘I’ll just have to call you back.’ He put down the receiver without waiting for a reply.
Chelsea braced her shoulders as if ready for battle as she and Lucas faced each other across the room. ‘I was just on my way to the kitchen to get some coffee,’ she told him defensively.
Lucas shrugged. ‘Feel free to help yourself to anything you want while you’re staying here,’ he invited.
He was waiting for something else, and they both knew it. ‘You don’t have to alter your plans because of me,’ she said huskily. ‘If you intended going out tonight then please do so, I’m just going to fall into bed and go to sleep anyway.’
He shook his head. ‘My plans to see Jennifer were not definite ones.’
‘But you’ve just spent the last few days with her, haven’t you?’ Chelsea frowned at his casual dismissal of the other woman.
His mouth tightened. ‘Chelsea——’
‘Sorry.’ She held her hands up in apology. ‘Please forget I said that, it’s really none of my business. But she does sound like a good friend, and I certainly don’t need the company.’
The brown eyes narrowed in surprise. ‘Are you dismissing me?’
She flushed. ‘No, I—Yes, perhaps I am,’ she conceded ruefully. ‘Although I didn’t mean to. But when I asked if I would be making things awkward for you by staying here you said no,’ she reminded softly.
‘And you aren’t. Jennifer has been a friend of mine for some time, but she has no claims on me, as I have none on her. I certainly don’t have to justify my actions to her, or to anyone else,’ he stated arrogantly.
She was sure he didn’t either. Although the fact that the woman Jennifer had been a ‘friend’ for some time looked as if she didn’t normally mind that. ‘I’d really rather you kept your dinner date,’ she told him huskily. ‘I’m not going to be any company at all, feeling as tired as I do.’
He seemed to hesitate, finally shrugging agreement. ‘Maybe you’re right.’
‘I know I am.’ She nodded, relieved that she hadn’t had to try too hard to persuade him to go out. The last thing she needed was this complete stranger hovering over her.
He nodded. ‘I’ll leave the telephone number on the pad where I can be reached if you should need me.’
‘I’m not a child, Lucas,’ she told him stiffly.
His cold gaze raked over her from head to foot. ‘I can see that,’ he grated. ‘But you have had a severe shock, and——’
‘And I’m not likely to run around the apartment shrieking hysterically,’ she taunted. ‘The doctor gave me some pills,’ she sighed. ‘Maybe I’ll take a couple.’
Lucas frowned. ‘What sort of pills?’
She shrugged. ‘Just something to relax me.’
‘Tranquilisers?’ his frown deepened.
‘I guess,’ she nodded, wondering what all the fuss was about now.
‘I don’t like the idea of leaving you here under the influence of drugs.’
Angry colour flamed in her cheeks. ‘So now I’m a drug addict?’ she demanded in an exasperated voice. ‘First I’m a hooker, and now I’m a drug-addict!’
Lucas’s mouth tightened. ‘I wasn’t——’
‘Two prescribed pills do not make me an addict!’ Her voice rose shrilly as she finally began to crack under the strain. ‘I just need something to relax me a little. God, my mother only died three days ago!’
‘I know, Chelsea. I know.’ He walked over to clasp her shoulders, looking down at her with sympathetic eyes. ‘But I think a brandy might have the same effect.’
‘Aren’t you frightened I might become an alcoholic?’ she asked tautly.
His face darkened. ‘Chelsea——’
‘I just want to go to sleep, can’t you understand that?’ Tears blinded her as she looked up at him. ‘I need to sleep. That way I don’t have to remember,’ her voice broke.
Lucas’s hands tightened painfully on her shoulders before he pulled her firmly into his arms, cradling her body against the firmness of his. ‘I’m sorry.’ He stroked her silvery hair. ‘I think this has all been more of a shock to me than I realised.’
She bent her head back to look at him. ‘You?’ she frowned, blinking back the tears, unable to see this man as anything but completely controlled.
‘I cared for your mother too,’ he bit out tautly.
Her mouth twisted. ‘Don’t tell me you were seeing her secretly, too?’
Lucas released her abruptly, stepping back. ‘None of my visits to Jace were made in secret. And I hadn’t seen your mother for several years, to answer your question. Although that doesn’t mean I can’t feel saddened by her death.’
It was a verbal rebuke, and yet Chelsea couldn’t apologise for what she had said. It wasn’t like Jace not to tell her things, and he hadn’t mentioned Lucas McAdams since they left England seven years ago.
She nodded abruptly. ‘I’ll just get my coffee and go back to my room.’
‘Chelsea …’
Her face was expressionless as she looked at him. ‘Yes?’
Whatever he had been about to say he changed his mind, his mouth firming into a thin line as his gaze raked over her mercilessly. ‘If we’re going to be living in close proximity for some time then I suggest we establish a few ground rules,’ he told her tautly.
She stiffened expectantly. ‘Yes?’
‘In the first place I would suggest that we respect each other’s privacy.’
Colour heightened her cheeks at the rebuke. ‘And secondly?’ she prompted abruptly.
‘Secondly, I would appreciate your wearing a little more than you have on now outside the privacy of your bedroom,’ he bit out harshly.
The colour deepened in her cheeks, making her look very young. ‘I’m perfectly respectable,’ she defended.
‘I didn’t say you weren’t,’ he dismissed. ‘And you are far from the first woman I’ve seen partially, or indeed fully, unclothed. I just happen to think it would make things a little more—acceptable.’
‘To whom?’