An Exception to His Rule

‘Believe me, I’d rather not but—’

‘What do you mean—whether you realise it or not?’ Harriet broke in to ask with a frown.

He shrugged. ‘I can’t work out why else I agreed to see you again.’

Harriet linked her fingers together and told herself not to pursue this but some demon prompted her, rather than simply getting up and walking out, to say, ‘If you think I could ever work for you, you must be mad, Mr Wyatt.’

Their gazes clashed.

‘The job is yours, Miss Livingstone,’ he replied deliberately. ‘You can move in the day after tomorrow—I’ll be gone then. I’m going overseas for some weeks, at least a month. Of course Isabel, who runs the house and the rest of it when I’m not here, will be in residence. So will Charlie, for a while anyway. Did Arthur get around to mentioning the remuneration package we thought was suitable?’

Harriet blinked. ‘...Yes.’

‘You can add a twenty per cent commission on any items I decide to sell. Will that do?’

‘I...I...’ She hesitated.

‘Don’t go all dithery on me again, Harriet,’ he warned. ‘Finish your brandy,’ he ordered.

She stared at him, deep hostility written into her expression. ‘No. I’ve got to drive.’

‘All right, but I need to know if you’re going to take it or not.’

Harriet would have given the world to answer in the negative but if he was going to be away...and surely she could finish the job in a month if she worked day and night...?

‘I’ll take it,’ she said barely audibly.

‘Do you want to see the studio and the flat?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sure they’ll be fine.’

He studied her narrowly with a glint of curiosity in his dark eyes. ‘I can’t work out if you’re a superior, head-in-the-clouds although accident-prone academic type or a rather exotic bundle of nerves.’

Harriet took a breath and actually managed to smile. ‘If it’s any help, neither can I. Goodbye, Tottie,’ she added and patted the dog’s head.

Damien Wyatt looked heavenwards as Tottie came as close as such a regal-looking dog could to actually simpering.

At the same time, Harriet said, ‘Oh! I wonder where I put my glasses?’

‘Here,’ he remarked flatly, picking them up from the dining table and handing them to her. ‘I’ll see you out.’

Harriet hesitated. ‘I’m sure I could see myself out.’

‘Not at all. After you.’

So it was that Harriet preceded him out of the dining room and out of the house to the driveway. There was only one vehicle parked there: hers.

Damien Wyatt took one look at it and swore. ‘You’re not still driving that damn tank, are you?’ he asked with furious incredulity.

Harriet coloured slightly. ‘It just refuses to lie down. Anyway, it’s not mine, it’s Brett’s, my brother’s. It’s very good over rough and sandy terrain.’

‘I believe you.’ Damien favoured the vehicle with a lingering look of malice then transferred his gaze to Harriet.

‘Well, enjoy your stay at Heathcote, Miss Livingstone.’ A tinge of irony entered his dark eyes. ‘Don’t go about kissing too many men at the same time as you’re happy to remain fancy-free. Oh, and watch out for Charlie. He is, not to put too fine a point on it, a womaniser.’

Harriet drew a deep breath. ‘Perhaps he takes after you?’ she said quietly, and climbed into her battered old vehicle.

He waited until she’d driven off before saying to Tottie, ‘What the devil do you make of all that? OK, I know you’re on her side, but I don’t ever recall kissing a girl I’ve—virtually—just met like that.’

Predictably, Tottie didn’t answer; she only yawned.

Damien Wyatt shrugged. In fact I haven’t kissed anyone quite like that for a while, he added to himself. Been too busy, been somewhat cynical about the whole tribe of women, to be honest. What I need, if that’s the case, is someone nice and uncomplicated who knows the rules of the game—doesn’t expect wedding bells in other words—rather than importuning an accident-prone, scholarly type who drives a horrible vehicle and has the nerve to suborn my dog!

‘That’s you, Tottie,’ he said severely but Tottie remained serenely unaffected.

‘Of course you could always kind of...keep an eye on her while I’m away,’ Damien added. ‘Heaven knows what “a left-handed syndrome” could lead her into.’

‘Permission to speak,’ a voice said and Charlie strolled onto the drive.

‘Don’t start, Charlie,’ Damien advised.

‘She’s gone, I see.’ Charlie came to a stop beside Tottie and his brother. He shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘Unusual vehicle. For a girl, I mean. Not to mention some kind of an antique dealer, according to Isabel.’

‘It’s her brother’s, apparently. Listen, Charlie—’ he explained Harriet’s background and the agreement they’d reached ‘—so leave her alone, will you?’

Charlie looked offended. ‘Acquit me! Would I try to steal your girl?’

‘Yes,’ Damien said flatly. ‘Not that she’s my girl—not that she’s my girl—’ He broke off and swore. ‘But she’s got a job to do here and the sooner it’s done, the better.’

Charlie frowned. ‘Why do I sense a mystery attached to Miss Harriet Livingstone? Smashing pair of legs, by the way.’

‘I don’t know,’ Damien said shortly. ‘How long are you here for?’

‘Relax, Bro,’ Charlie said cheerfully. ‘I’m due back at the base in a week. By the way, you are now talking to Flight Lieutenant Charles Walker Wyatt. Which is what I dashed into the dining room to tell you, incidentally.’

‘Charlie!’ Damien turned to his brother. ‘Congratulations!’ And he shook his brother’s hand then enveloped him in a bear hug.

‘I suspect I got it by the skin of my teeth but, yeah!’

‘Come in and I’ll shout you a drink.’

* * *

It was just before they were called into dinner that Charlie said thoughtfully, ‘There’s something about that girl, Damien. Easy to run onto the rocks there—take care.’

Damien Wyatt opened his mouth to deny that there was any possibility of his running onto any rocks with Harriet Livingstone but he closed it.

And he said musingly, ‘I’m glad to hear you say so because for the last few hours I’ve been wondering what on earth got into me. So what do you think it is?’