His Defiant Mistress: The Millionaire's Rebellious Mistress / The Venetian's Midnight Mistress / The Billionaire's Virgin Mistress

She told him about Alex’s visit, and the reason for it. ‘I haven’t given much thought to security,’ she said, depressed. ‘So I’ll just have to move into number one for the time being. Will you cart my sofabed down here in the pick-up, please?’

‘No,’ said Harry, so flatly Sarah eyed him in dismay.

‘But, Harry, I’ll never sleep at the flat for thinking someone might be breaking in down here and wrecking the place.’

‘And you’ll sleep better here on your own? What good would a little thing like you do if someone did break in?’ he growled.

Sarah pushed her cap back on her head. ‘I’ll be straight with you, Harry, I can’t afford a security firm.’

He gave it some thought. ‘I’d offer to move in myself,’ he said at last, ‘but better I get Ian to sleep here, bring his dog.’

Her eyes lit up at the thought of the young giant who’d helped with the roofing. ‘Would Ian do it?’

‘Slip him a few quid and he’ll jump at it. He shares a bedroom with his kid brother at home, so he’ll be glad of some space for a bit. And he’s nearer to his current job here. You’ve got a kettle, and the fridge is working, so with his portable telly and Nero for company he’ll be in clover.’

‘We need to fetch my sofabed just the same, then.’

Harry laughed. ‘Ian’s six foot five in his socks, boss. He’d have your sofa in bits. He can bring his camping gear.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’ll give him a ring when he’s on his break.’

‘And while you’re at it could you ask Peter Cox to spare us a minute some time today, to make sure the security lights and alarms are all working?’ said Sarah.

‘Stop worrying, boss. I’ll see to it all.’

Ian Sollers was only too happy to do a bit of easy moonlighting, as long as Miss Carver didn’t mind Josie coming round of an evening to watch telly with him.

‘The girlfriend,’ said Harry, reporting. ‘Nice kid, Josie.’ His lips twitched. ‘And if the youngsters get a bit wrapped up in themselves there’s always Nero to keep watch for intruders. He’s a German Shepherd, and a big lad—like his master.’

Once the security lights and alarms had been checked and confirmed in perfect working order Sarah finally relaxed enough to laugh when Harry teased her about her clandestine gardening.

‘You must have started before I was down the lane.’

‘I was dying to see how the plants would look.’

‘They look good.’ He shook his head. ‘But it doesn’t seem right, a lass like you with nothing better to do with her evenings than grub about in the garden.’

‘It makes a change from the carpentry and painting I did every evening until I got my flat sorted—’ She broke off as her phone rang.

‘I’ll make some tea while you answer that,’ said Harry, getting up.

‘Miss Carver?’

‘Yes.’

‘Greg Harris here, personal assistant to Alex Merrick. He asked me to let you know that one of our security men will take a drive out to the Medlar Farm Cottages at regular intervals tonight, so there’s no need for you to sleep there.’

Sarah rolled her eyes. No use losing her cool with the monkey, she’d wait until she met the organ-grinder again. ‘Thank Mr Merrick for me, but I’ve made my own arrangements. Please pass the message on to his security people.’

‘Are you sure about this, Miss Carver?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ she said icily.

‘I mean, after what happened last night I hope you’re not going to sleep there yourself after all—’

‘I repeat, Mr Harris,’ she snapped, ‘I’ve made my own arrangements. Goodbye.’

Mindful of Harry’s words about young people getting wrapped up in themselves, Sarah took time to hang curtains at the windows of the show house to give them some privacy. Her plan for decorating a cottage of this era was to keep it simple, with quality curtain material and a rug in muted colours on the gleaming wood floor in the sitting room. When the house was ready for the public she would transfer some of the furniture she’d put in storage, hang a picture or two, and the cottage would look so good she would hate to part with it.

Sarah stood in the doorway of the sitting room, which looked different already with just the addition of curtains and a few things she’d brought from the flat. Much as she resented his high-handedness, Alex Merrick’s warnings had given her a wake-up call. It was only common sense from a security point of view to make the house at least appear inhabited.

She heard Harry coming down a ladder and went out to beckon him inside.

‘What do you think?’

He whistled. ‘Very cosy!’

‘Will it con a would-be intruder?’

‘No matter. Nero will start barking long before anyone gets near enough to take a closer look.’

Sarah drove back to the flat that evening in high spirits. Ian had turned up in his van with his handsome dog before she left. After a few rapturous minutes spent in making Nero’s acquaintance, Sarah had talked money with Ian, and assured the young giant that his Josie was welcome to join him any time.

‘Thanks, I appreciate that Miss Carver. But she’s at her kickboxing class tonight so I just brought my telly for company.’ Ian had looked round with deep approval. ‘Josie will love it here. I wish we could afford one of these.’

When Sarah’s doorbell rang very late she pulled on her dressing gown and climbed down from her platform, stiffening when she heard the angry, clipped tones of Alex Merrick over the intercom. She buzzed him in, and smothered a snort of laughter as he came storming across the hall in his shirtsleeves, hair on end, and a great tear flapping in one expensive trouser leg.

‘I’m glad you think this is funny! Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’ he demanded, advancing on her with such menace Sarah had to force herself to stand her ground.

‘Good evening, Mr Merrick. Come inside before you wake my neighbours. What should I have told you?’

‘That you’d sold one of the cottages,’ he snapped.

‘I haven’t. Harry Sollers’ nephew Ian is doing me a favour by sleeping there, that’s all. I made it perfectly clear to your Mr Harris that I had my security arrangements in hand,’ she added frostily.

Alex controlled himself with obvious difficulty. ‘He relayed the message, but it obviously lost something in translation. I took it for granted you were sticking to your plan of sleeping there yourself. I was at a charity dinner earlier, and went home by way of Medlar Cottages to check on you. I got savaged by a bloody great monster of a dog for my pains.’

‘That was just Nero, doing his job. Did he bite you?’ she asked solicitously.

‘No. I fought him off.’ Alex glared at the ragged tear. ‘I was fond of this suit.’

‘If you’ll tell me how much it cost I’ll reimburse you,’ she said promptly, and won a look of such blazing antagonism she backed away a little.

‘I didn’t come here for money,’ he snapped.

‘What, then?’

The angular, good-looking face hardened. ‘I should think that’s obvious,’ he snapped, and started towards her.

CHAPTER THREE