Dangerous Discovery

‘That’s not what I meant,’ Estelle retorted, ‘and you know it! I would no more want to sleep with you than...than...’

‘Than what?’ He had moved closer still and, as she found her eyes drawn upwards to his face, she saw the slight curve at the corner of his mouth, the now familiar gleam of male predator in his eyes.

Estelle grasped a breath. She was learning; she knew what that look meant; unfortunately she wasn’t quite fast enough.

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to be quite so provocative,’ Hunter gritted, confusing her, making her more aware of the potent male danger by stroking the edge of his finger gently, oh, so gently, along her cheek. ‘I’ve already discovered this evening that I have a penchant for childlike vulnerability. Don’t tempt my control any further. I’m aware, you see, of my additional weakness: beautiful, stubborn young women who will insist on openly insulting me, who will insist on not doing as they are told—they always were a great turn-on. Do you want to see how I show them the error of their ways, Estelle?’ He lowered his head a fraction and she felt the familiar, inexplicable jolt in the pit of her stomach. ‘Do you want to become one of the corrected?’ he murmured huskily as his mouth brushed against the trembling softness of her lips.

‘N-no!’ Estelle’s cry was a faint whisper.

It was a plea that Hunter ruthlessly chose to ignore. His mouth covered Estelle’s moist lips with potent firmness. His hands skimmed the outline of her body, coming to rest at her slender waist, holding it in a grip that was firm and full of cool possession.

‘Now I think you understand what I’m saying.’ He was raising his head at last, his glance sliding over Estelle’s flushed cheeks, her bright, startled eyes. ‘You’ll find I’m a perfect gentleman—up to a point. Even I have my limitations, just like everyone else.’ He gave a slow, satisfied smile. ‘Take no longer than five minutes. I’ll wait outside while you sort through what you need,’ he informed her briskly. ‘Call me if you want any help.’

Estelle leant against the chest of drawers for support and stared as Hunter’s imposing presence left the room. What on earth is happening? she thought dazedly. What sort of a fool’s game am I playing? She ran her tongue lightly over her tips and struggled to forget how it had felt when Hunter’s mouth had covered hers.

Oh, Connie! I’m so sorry! She closed her eyes and wondered if Hunter had simply taken what he had wanted with her too. It didn’t bear thinking about. And now here he was suggesting she go with him, stay at his house! Surely even to consider such a proposition was the height of madness!

Estelle’s eyes searched the room helplessly—she saw the mess and with a shudder of disgust turned violently away. But how could she stay here? There was no way she could face clearing up everything tonight and there was Joseph to consider, above everything else, above her own fears and needs. This place just wasn’t fit for a baby.

With a heavy heart, Estelle jerked open one of the drawers and prepared to pack, praying silently that she would get through the next few hours unscathed.

CHAPTER THREE

‘YOU can use this room for tonight.’ Hunter threw Estelle’s well-packed holdall on to the enormous four-poster bed that dominated the ornate bedroom. ‘The child will have to make do with a drawer or something.’ He threw a brief uninterested glance in Joseph’s direction. ‘You can pad it out with towels; there are plenty in the bathroom, just through there.’ He indicated a door in the corner of the room with a nod of his head. ‘You know where the kitchen is should you need anything else, don’t you?’

Estelle nodded mutely, too nervous to admit that she hadn’t a clue where anything was after the endless maze of corridors they had just travelled along. ‘I’m sorry to be such a nuisance,’ she murmured as he moved towards the door. ‘Are you sure you want the bother of having me in the house?’

‘Have I read the situation wrongly?’ His words were clipped, his voice curt and suddenly irritable. ‘Do you have somewhere, someone else to go to, then?’

‘N-no. It’s just I don’t want to be...I mean...there was no need to—’

‘Save your breath, Estelle,’ he interrupted crisply. ‘We’ve been through all this before. You’re here now and it’s late. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’

Tomorrow came quickly enough. Six-thirty, to be precise. Joseph was cutting teeth and his insistent cries woke Estelle immediately.

It took several moments before she got her bearings; the grand room with its ornate hangings and impressive collections of paintings and books was so at odds with her own congested flat that for some considerable time she actually thought she was having some kind of weird dream. Then, as the depressing happenings of the night before came flooding back, she realised that the nightmare she had woken to was not in fact a nightmare at all but actual reality...

‘Oh, I’m...I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be down here at this hour.’ Estelle backed away to the door. Hunter was sitting at the long oak table in the kitchen, dressed immaculately in a crisp dark business suit, with a sheaf of papers at his right hand, and a coffee-pot and a cup at his left. He looked, Estelle thought, as if he had been there for quite some considerable time. Another calculation gone astray—she had counted on him being safely out of the way, tucked up, asleep in his bed somewhere, for another couple of hours at least.

‘There’s no need to run away like some startled rabbit,’ he drawled, raising his head to survey Estelle with cool, unhurried ease. ‘Come along in. I’m just about finished anyway.’

‘I...I just wanted some hot water,’ Estelle murmured hesitantly, ‘to heat up Joseph’s bottle. I...I’ll come back later; it doesn’t matter.’ She began to withdraw, but Hunter rose from the table, crossed the room and placed commanding hands on her shoulders.

‘I don’t think your son would particularly appreciate that,’ he drawled lazily, manoeuvring Estelle through into the kitchen, ‘and neither would I for that matter—the noise he’s making is setting my teeth on edge. I suggest you get some food inside him as quickly as possible before he wakes the whole neighbourhood.’

Estelle pursed her lips, averting her eyes from Hunter’s handsome face, more aware than she ever wanted to be of his touch, of the slightest pressure his fingers exerted as he led her over to the gleaming range. ‘I just wanted some hot water.’

‘Yes, so you’ve already told me,’ he murmured smoothly, leaning back in his chair to watch with glittering eyes as Estelle stood nervously before him. ‘There’s no need to keep explaining your presence. I did invite you to stay here, after all.’

‘I need a bowl too.’ Estelle tried to harden up her voice but it still sounded ridiculously nervous.

‘No problem. Look in the cupboards; I’m sure there are plenty around.’

‘I...I’ll be out of your way in a moment.’ Estelle turned, hating him for making her feel awkward, hating the fact that she cared because her hair was a mess and her T-shirt was old and she probably looked the most dreadful fright.

What on earth was I thinking of last night? Estelle thought despairingly. To come here, agree to Hunter’s suggestion. Suggestion? She shook her head, cursing silently as she remembered his forceful behaviour, the way he had taken advantage of her vulnerability.

A flush of self-consciousness flooded Estelle’s face as she became aware of the fact that his deep, dark eyes were focusing speculatively on her shapely figure. Surreptitiously she tugged at the too short T-shirt which she had slept in as usual, feeling stupidly gauche and awkward in front of his own relaxed, rugged frame.

‘Nice legs,’ Hunter murmured appreciatively, leaning back, folding his arms, taking a good long look. His lips curved into a stunning smile. ‘Slim and golden, just the way I like them. Now don’t look at me like that,’ he added, his eyes taunting Estelle as she pursed her lips angrily and threw him a frosty look. ‘What do you expect? If you will wander the house half undressed, flaunting yourself—’

‘I am not flaunting myself!’ Estelle cut in, eyes bright with irritation as she rose easily to the bait. ‘But I didn’t bring a dressing-gown with me. And anyway, I didn’t expect you to be here.’ She lowered herself carefully, clutching Joseph’s body close, desperately trying not to reveal any more of herself as she bent and hastily searched in the cupboards.

‘I’m surprised you’re up so bright and early,’ Hunter murmured in conversational tones. ‘It must have been pretty late by the time you got some sleep.’

Estelle straightened up, carefully poured some hot water into a bowl and then plunged in the prepared bottle of milk that she had mercifully thought to bring from her flat with her, with a silent prayer that it would be ready before Joseph’s intermittent cries turned into full-scale howls of impatience. ‘It may be early,’ she retorted stiffly, determined not to allow his seemingly pleasant tones to have an effect on her, ‘but I don’t feel particularly bright. Early rising isn’t something I do out of choice.’

‘Tell me about it!’ Hunter murmured drily, crossing back over to the table. ‘I’m driving up to Manchester this morning on business, hoping, although I doubt whether I’ll succeed, to avoid the worst of the rush-hour traffic. Early mornings are a complete nightmare to me.’

‘I would have thought you would have been able to arrange business meetings at times that were more agreeable to yourself,’ Estelle answered snappily. ‘After all, isn’t that one of the perks of being in charge of your own company?’

‘True. But somehow it’s never really as easy as all that.’ There was a slight pause. ‘So, you’re aware then that I own my own business?’ he asked smoothly. ‘How come?’

Estelle stiffened. She could almost feel his perceptive gaze boring into her back. There was a long silence as she rapidly ran over what she had just said. Had she given too much away? No. No, it was all right, she thought, breathing an inward sigh of relief; he couldn’t possibly guess that she was almost an expert on his lifestyle, had gathered information about him with almost feverish determination from any source that she could lay her hands on ever since she had first discovered his name in Connie’s diary. ‘Oh, I...I just heard from somewhere,’ she murmured vaguely. ‘Someone in the village must have mentioned it.’ She shrugged, silently urging the hot water to hurry up and do its job, because if she didn’t get out of the kitchen and Hunter’s presence soon she would be giving all sorts of things away.

‘So you presumably know I’m in management consultancy,’ he added briskly, ‘that I have the enviable task of trying to salvage firms which are in a slow and very steady decline before they go completely over the brink into oblivion?’

‘I...think I heard something of the sort,’ Estelle mumbled.

‘What else did you hear?’ His voice was sharp as he carried his cup over to the dishwasher and stood beside her. Estelle risked a swift glance at his face and saw that his eyes held a fierce expression. ‘I’m intrigued,’ he continued, when she made no reply. ‘I haven’t been living in the village more than five minutes and it seems my misgivings are already justified; already the locals are gossiping.’ Dark brows drew together irritably. ‘When my father died earlier this year and I inherited this beautiful but rather dilapidated pile of bricks,’ he continued savagely, ‘I seriously considered selling the whole lot in one fell swoop. There’s a lot of work that needs doing to the property, new plumbing, rewiring, any amount of decorating. Oh, and a new perimeter wall, of course,’ he added with deliberate emphasis, meeting Estelle’s hurried glance with cool black eyes. ‘Perhaps I should have given in to my instincts—let someone else take care of the hassle and upheaval.’

‘Oh, but how can you say that?’ Estelle responded automatically. ‘This is such a lovely house! It’s been in your family for several generations too, hasn’t it? And you have such a wealth of treasures, such wonderful paintings. Most of them need cleaning, of course, but just in the hallway and along the stairs there are some wonderful examples of—’ Her mind swung back over the many, varied pictures she had seen in her short time here and then her gaze fell upon Hunter’s face and she bit down on her lip, halting suddenly as her eyes registered his not particularly amused expression.

‘Ah, yes, the painter!’ he drawled mockingly. ‘Am I to take it from that impassioned outburst that you know something about art, then?’

Estelle raised her chin defiantly, annoyed by the derision in his voice. ‘Yes, just a little,’ she replied crisply. ‘I studied for a while. Your father was quite a collector, wasn’t he?’ she added, unable to keep the enthusiasm out of her voice. ‘It would be such a waste of his work not to—’

‘My, my! You do seem to know quite a lot! Village gossip!’ The inflexion in his voice held disgust. ‘Such a disagreeable aspect of country life. Give me London any day; at least there your life’s your own and you can be assured of a certain degreee of privacy.’

‘It’s not such a wonderful place,’ Estelle retorted, stung by the cutting tone of his voice. ‘Intellectually and socially stimulating if you have the means to enjoy all it has to offer, but a very large, lonely and daunting place otherwise.’

‘So you’re acquainted with London?’ Hunter’s gaze sharpened further. ‘I thought you were a country girl through and through.’

‘I lived there for a while, that’s all,’ Estelle informed him quietly, moving over to feel the temperature of the milk. ‘It had its attractions but...’ Her voice trailed away self-consciously. Hunter was watching her too closely; she could almost see his brain piecing the fragments of information together.

‘You were at college there? What happened? Did you have to leave when you became pregnant?’ he commented bluntly. ‘But why move here?’ he added with a slight frown, taking her acquiescence as read. ‘Do you have family in this area, then? Some connection?’

‘I used to.’ Estelle’s voice was clipped, dripping with frost. Hunter deliberately chose not to take the hint, continuing unmercifully.