Claimed By Her Billionaire Protector

His tone told her that, indeed, he meant just that. Because, of course, his housekeeper would be the one who did any actual caring—not that it would be necessary.

She opened her mouth to say something astringent, then closed it as he went on, ‘It’s been an unnerving experience for you—and understandably so.’

‘Which doesn’t mean I’m not capable of looking after myself.’

‘Is it always so difficult for you to accept help?’

Elana couldn’t come up with any sensible response. Much as she resisted the idea, her shock at the accident and fear for Jordan weren’t the only reasons for her silence. From the moment she’d seen Niko he’d had a potent effect on her.

And she certainly wasn’t going to let him know that.

He broke the silence. ‘If Mrs Nixon had been with us, I’m sure you’d have let her sweep you off home with her.’

‘I—’ Elana paused, then said reluctantly, ‘Well—yes. But I’ve known the Nixons almost all my life, and she’d worry.’

Still amused, he said, ‘I can’t say I’d worry, but I’d certainly be concerned if I’d dropped you off by yourself. And if you’re concerned now about local gossip, you don’t have to be. My housekeeper will be enough of a chaperone.’

His response made her seem like some virgin from Victorian melodrama. Elana stifled a sharp retort. ‘I’m not at all worried about my—well, about my safety. Or my reputation. I just want to go home.’

‘No,’ he said coolly.

Fulminating, she looked across at a profile hewn of stone, all arrogant angles above a chin that proclaimed complete determination.

Sheer frustration made her demand recklessly, ‘Why are you doing this? You realise that it’s kidnapping?’

His mouth curved. ‘Tell me, would anyone in Waipuna accept that—and I’m including your policeman friend?’

He’d called her bluff. Of course they wouldn’t, and neither would she accuse him of it. Curtly she retorted, ‘I’d have preferred that we talk the matter over before you drove past my gate.’

‘Why? We’d have just had exactly the same conversation, only sooner. And I’m assuming that you’re sensible enough to accept that you’re not only tired, but still traumatised by the tragedy of your parents’ accident.’

Elana flinched, averting her face as he stopped the car outside the old homestead. The harsh glare of the headlights highlighted the amazing change huge amounts of money could produce in a few months. Evidence of years of neglect under the previous owner had been erased, and Mana homestead looked as pristine as it must have when it had first been built over a century ago.

* * *

Niko turned and inspected her. She was staring at the homestead, her features sharpened. ‘I’ve upset you. I’m sorry,’ he said, resisting the impulse to take her hands in his and offer what comfort he could.

Years ago he’d learned a harsh lesson about giving in to a compassionate impulse. A friend’s daughter had suffered a setback, and he’d taken her on a short cruise on his yacht, only to realise that she was falling in love with him. He’d felt no more for her than a brotherly affection, and had told her so as gently as he could. For the rest of his life, he’d be grateful that her attempt at suicide had failed, and that she was now happily married.

Since then, he’d been careful not to raise expectations he wasn’t able to satisfy, choosing sophisticated lovers who understood that he wasn’t interested in matrimony.

Elana Grange shook her head, her tone flat when she answered. ‘I’m rather weary of telling people I’m all right. Thank you. You’re being very kind.’ She even attempted a smile as she straightened her shoulders and said in what she probably hoped was her normal voice, ‘It’s shocking what twenty years of neglect did to this place. Those pohutukawa trees on the edge of the beach are over three hundred years old. The previous owners were going to cut them down. They said they blocked the view.’

‘Why didn’t they fell them?’

‘There was a public outcry, and a threat to take it to the environment court. I don’t know why they wanted them removed. They almost never came to Mana.’ She paused. ‘And the oak tree we’ve just passed was planted by the wife of the very first settler here.’

‘I gather from your tone that you’re not sure whether or not I’m going to bulldoze trees down,’ Niko said dryly.

* * *

Elana hesitated, before telling him the truth. ‘It hadn’t occurred to me, but I hope you’re not.’

‘I prefer to plant trees rather than kill them.’

Brief and to the point, and, because he’d decided to restore the homestead rather than demolish it, she believed him. ‘Except for pine trees, I believe.’

‘Except for wilding pines,’ he agreed.

He switched off the engine and got out. On a ragged, deep breath, Elana fumbled with the clip of her seatbelt, then wrestled with the unfamiliar door catch. Before she’d fathomed it out, the door swung open.

‘Here, take my hand,’ Niko commanded.

Scrambling out, she muttered, ‘Thanks, but I’m fine.’

Although he said nothing, she realised he was watching her closely as they walked towards the house. A woman opened the door—the housekeeper, of course—probably in her forties, with a smile that held both a welcome and some interest.

Niko said, ‘Elana, this is Mrs West. Patty, Elana Grange lives next door. She’s had a shock, so I’d suggest a cup of tea or coffee.’ He glanced down at Elana. ‘Or something a bit stronger.’

‘Tea will be fine, thank you,’ Elana said as crisply as she could, and added, ‘I’m sorry Mr Radcliffe felt obliged to put you to all this trouble.’

The older woman’s smile widened. ‘It’s no trouble. I’ve made you up a bed in a room overlooking the beach.’

‘Thank you.’ Although it had to be very late Elana was no longer tired. Just strung on wires. Tea might help her to think clearly.

Why on earth had she surrendered to Niko’s calm abduction?

The answer stared her in the face. Jordan’s accident had flung her back into the shock of losing Steve and, later, her mother.

It was too late now to regret her weakness. She was here at Mana, and, thanks to both Phil and Niko Radcliffe’s over-developed sense of responsibility, she had no way of getting home.

* * *

Five minutes later she was sitting on a comfortable sofa in a room that breathed sophisticated country style, fighting an aching weariness that clouded her mind. Barely able to prop her eyelids up, she covered a prodigious yawn.

Sitting down had not been a good move. Right then she desired nothing more than the blessed oblivion of sleep—in her own bed. Her eyes were full of grit, and somehow her bones had crumbled. The thought of getting to her feet made her want to curl up and collapse, crash out on the sofa for what was left of the night.

Niko’s black brows drew together. ‘You’re exhausted. Do you want to forego the tea?’

‘No.’ Her voice sounded oddly distant. She set her shoulders and tried for a smile, failing dismally.

‘You did well,’ he told her, his voice level.

‘So did you.’

Always, until she died, she’d remember how he looked as he dragged Jordan free of the car, the sheer brute strength of the man, and the fierce determination in his face as he carried the youth to safety.

Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘I’m going to take the next first-aid course the St John’s people advertise.’