The Demetrios Bridal Bargain (5 page)

Did he feel it too?

She pushed aside the thought, ran her tongue over her dry lips and, still not looking at him, directed her words to the wall over his left shoulder. ‘I really need to get back,' she said, her voice cracking with nerves.

He bowed his dark head slightly in acknowledgement of her request. ‘Dornie House, you said…?' His eyes narrowed in concentration as he sketched a mental map of the area. If it was the place he thought he could stop by the estate and reassure Jamie that he hadn't dropped off the face of the earth.

‘That's right.'

‘The place off the Inverness road?'

‘I think so.' She lifted a hand to her head.

As Mathieu watched the intensely weary gesture he was startled to feel his protective instincts stirring. He reminded himself who and what this woman was, but found it hard to reconcile the predatory man-eater of his memory with this exhausted and white-faced figure who had just narrowly escaped death…and there hadn't been a single tear.

You had to admire that. Whatever she was, she had guts.

‘You walked a long way this morning. Come on.' She had to be tired because she didn't object when he placed a light guiding hand on her arm.

‘Y
OUR
adrenaline levels are dropping,' Mathieu said, studying Rose's pale face with an expert eye. ‘The delayed shock is kicking in,' he explained as he waited for her to swing her legs into the Land Rover before closing the passenger door. ‘Are you sure the doctor said you were OK to leave?' he added when he slid into the driver's seat beside her.

You had to wonder about the competence of someone who sent a woman who looked ready to collapse home.

Rose nodded, but did not mention that the medic had only released her on the understanding she had someone to take care of her once she got home.

Home…it was ironic, after she had had such a fight to leave, that she had been suffering dreadfully from homesickness ever since she had arrived.

She knew it would pass, but at that moment she was feeling it particularly acutely. So acutely that she had to clamp her teeth into her lower lip to stop it trembling. The idea of showing that sort of weakness before this man horrified her.

‘Have you moved here or are you visiting?'

With anyone else she would have suspected they were making conversation to give her time to compose herself. She lifted a hand to blot the moisture at the corner of one eye and sniffed. ‘I'm working. I'm cataloguing Mr Smith's book collection.'

‘
You're
cataloguing books?' He doubted she could have given a reply that would have surprised him more.

‘Yes, when I'm not seducing men in their hotel rooms I'm a trained librarian.'

‘Librarian?' He gave a sudden bark of laughter that brought a militant light to her amber eyes.

‘What's so funny?'

He slid her a quick sideways glance. ‘Well, you must admit it's not…well, a person doesn't look at you and think…' He turned his head again, the sweep of his eyes this time slow and sensual. Facing the road again, he grinned and shook his head. ‘Well, he doesn't think librarian,
ma petite
.'

Why did French sound sexy even when a person was being sarcastic? And he must have been because nobody would call her his little one and be serious. ‘You appear to have a very stereotypical image of a librarian, Mr Demetrios.' Did he make love in that language too?

Well, you're not going to find out, Rose, she told herself sternly. He threw Rebecca out of his bed and she's the size eight sexy one.

Was Rebecca right when she claimed being sexy was a state of mind? If she had meant thinking about sex, then that might well make me the sexiest person on the planet just now, Rose thought, embarrassed by her sudden preoccupation with the subject.

Meeting this man was going to put her in therapy.

‘I won't ask what you think I look like.' Knowing what he thought she was was more than enough information.

‘I try as a rule not to judge a book by its cover, but then you know all about books, don't you? You don't mind if I just swing by the estate to let Jamie know what's happened?' Without waiting for her response he took a sharp left. The entrance gates they passed through were grand but the tree-lined driveway beyond was potholed.

Rose had been here long enough to know that the estate, or Castle Clachan given its correct title, was occupied by the laird, a pretty important person hereabouts. She supposed it figured that someone like Mathieu would be on first-name terms with the man.

‘You're staying here?'

He nodded and negotiated a particularly deep pothole. ‘Jamie raced for a season.'

‘Was he injured?'

‘No, he just…you need…Jamie was a brilliant driver, but he lacked the…he wasn't, I suppose, ruthless enough. Jamie,' he explained, ‘is much nicer than me.'

‘An unnecessary explanation, I promise you.'

This drew a laugh from him. Rose couldn't help but notice what an attractive laugh he had.

 

They drew up on the gravelled area in front of the house. Well, actually there wasn't much gravel left, but there were a lot of weeds, though the house itself, a large sprawling Victorian pile in dressed stone, was impressive.

Mathieu seemed to read her thoughts. ‘The original one dated to the fifteenth century; it burnt down, I believe. You wait here. I'll just let Jamie know…oh, there he is.'

Rose turned her head in time to see two men walk around the side of the house. One was tall, sandy-haired and, she assumed, the laird; the other was her employer. She began to struggle with the door handle. Now she knew why the car they had pulled up beside looked familiar.

Mathieu leaned across and caught her arm. ‘What are you doing?'

‘That's Mr Smith,' she said, drawing back into her seat as far as she could. ‘I'm cataloguing his books.' Do not hyperventilate, Rose.

Mathieu turned his head. His mental image of Rose's employer had made him a good twenty years older than the one talking to Jamie.

‘You live in?'

Rose nodded, puzzled by the odd inflection in his voice, but relieved she was no longer pressed into her seat by his arm. It didn't even cross her mind that Mathieu might be wondering about the sleeping arrangements and if she had guessed she would have laughed. Robert Smith, despite the fact he was youngish and quite good-looking, was peculiarly sexless and a humourless cold fish to boot.

‘You stay there. I'll explain what's happened.'

 

Jamie greeted him with his usual hearty good humour. Though his expression sobered when Mathieu explained what had happened.

‘Lucky you were around, old mate.'

‘Yes, most fortunate,' Robert Smith agreed. ‘But you say that Miss Hall is not hurt—the doctor gave her a clean bill of health?'

‘She's shaken, obviously.'

‘I'm sure once she's working she'll forget all about it.'

‘Working?'

The other man flushed under the sardonic stare. ‘Well, I thought…I have a schedule and—'

‘She needs to rest.'

Robert Smith visibly recoiled from the blaze of fury in the other man's eyes. ‘Oh, well, if that's what the doctor recommends, of course I'll make sure she—'

‘Robert,' Jamie drawled, clapping the man on the back. ‘Why don't you just toddle along in and look at those books? I left them on the hall table.'

The other man accepted the invitation with alacrity.

‘I'll just go and speak to Miss Hall first.'

‘I think you scared him,' Jamie said in an amused undertone as the other man began to walk towards the Land Rover.

‘I think the man,' Mathieu said scornfully, ‘is an idiot.'

‘Yes, that came across,' Jamie said drily. ‘Rich, though—made a bomb in the City and retired young. I thought I might sell off a few old books, seems he's mad about them. So the girl…do I get an introduction?' He glanced curiously towards the Land Rover. ‘Why don't I ever get the opportunity to play the white knight to damsels in distress?' he complained.

Mathieu's glance followed the direction of Jamie's stare. Rose, presumably at the suggestion of Smith, was getting out of the Land Rover. His brow furrowed as she nodded at the other man and began to walk towards them. ‘She's changed a lot…since Monaco.'

Mathieu wasn't even aware he had verbalised his thoughts until Jamie spoke.

‘You know her! My God, what are the odds on that?' Jamie, his eyes widening in appreciation, gave a low whistle under his breath as Rose got closer. ‘Any chance of an intro, Matt?'

Mathieu flashed Jamie an irritated look. ‘I hardly know her…we met—' he began, then stopped as Rose came within hearing distance. She stood there looking, despite her outlandish outfit and gloriously tousled hair, dignified and beautiful enough to offer some excuse for Jamie's childish outburst.

‘Hello.' Rose nodded towards Jamie, her smile dimming perceptively as her eyes reached Mathieu. ‘Mr Smith is giving me a lift back. I just wanted to thank you…again…for, well, saving my life,' she said awkwardly. ‘And I'm sorry for putting you to so much trouble.'

‘Saving your life?' Jamie interrupted, stepping forward, hand outstretched, to introduce himself. ‘Played that part down, Matt.' He flashed his friend an amused sideways glance. ‘But then that's our Matt all over, the modest hero.'

The modest hero in question looked uncomfortable and irritated and his grin broadened. ‘We've not met, though in a place this size it was only a matter of time. I'm Jamie.'

‘I know—the laird.'

‘For the present, but I'm hoping Matt here will do something brilliant and keep the bailiffs from the door.'

Rose found it hard to tell from his tone if he was joking or not, but what did come across was his confidence in Mathieu's ability to pull off the odd miracle in his spare time. She found herself hoping that on this occasion Mathieu did so because it was hard not to warm to the young laird.

‘I'm Rose. If you'll excuse me—' she glanced expressively down at her clothes before extricating her hand and wrapping her arms around herself ‘—I'll just go wait in the car. It's warmer.' Rose smiled once more before turning away.

‘I think she likes me,' Jamie said under his breath as she walked back to the parked vehicle. ‘No so sure about you, though.'

‘So what books are you selling?'

It seemed for a moment that his change of subject might work, but, mid-description of a book, Jamie stopped and angled a sharp look at his friend.
‘Monaco…'

Mathieu shrugged and pretended ignorance.

‘You said you knew her in Monaco.'

‘It might have been.'

‘My God, it's her, isn't it? The blonde that got into your room the night of the embassy party.'

Mathieu, his expression schooled to neutrality, held his tongue, though he suspected rather too late in the day.

‘I take it that silence means yes.' Jamie let out a long silent whistle followed by a cackle of laughter. ‘Someone who works for Smith doesn't seem the type…she didn't seem the type. Though, to be honest,' he admitted rather regretfully, ‘I've not had a whole lot of experience of the sort of women who try and seduce men they've never met. Was she totally naked?'

Mathieu flashed him a flat look.

Jamie held up a pacifying hand. ‘All right, no need to implode. You sure nothing happened? I mean, was there a frisson out there on the ice?' Grinning, he raised a speculative brow.

Mathieu did not smile back. ‘You have an overactive imagination, Jamie,' he said coolly.

This time Jamie did read the warning in the other man's manner. ‘If you say so…' he said in his easygoing way. ‘But I suppose you do know, Mathieu, that you're one of the few men in the universe who would get mad about finding a naked beautiful blonde in his bed.'

‘I don't like surprises, I suppose.' His dark brows drew into a straight line above his hawkish nose. ‘I don't know why I ever told you about it,' he added, the exasperation in his voice aimed mostly at himself.

‘You didn't have much choice after I heard you lambasting the hotel staff on their security,' Jamie reminded him. ‘Weren't you even slightly tempted to take what was on offer? I mean, the delicious Rose is pretty hot…' His wistful sigh was accompanied by a lecherous grin.

It was a grin that Mathieu had a problem with.

His long fingers tightened until his knuckles turned white. His dark lashes came down in a veil as he took a deep breath that did little to reduce the angry pounding in his temples.

‘Do people here have nothing better to do than gossip?' he asked coldly.

‘Not really,' Jamie admitted. Then, oblivious to the fact his friend was fighting violent urges, he continued to speculate about the blonde.

‘I wonder if she'd like to come and catalogue my book collection after she finishes with Smith?' His comic suggestive leer faded dramatically in the face of the flash of livid fury on his friend's face.

It was at that moment that Robert Smith announced his presence by clearing his throat.

Both men turned in unison.

‘I'm afraid, James, that the books…well, they're not quite what I'm looking for.'

Jamie took the news with a philosophical shrug. ‘Oh, well, not to worry.'

‘I have a friend who might be interested and I'll mention them to him if you like? I'm afraid, though, they're really not that valuable.'

‘I'll buy them,' Mathieu heard himself say.

Jamie looked as surprised by the offer as Mathieu felt. ‘You don't know what they are,' he pointed out.

‘I have a bookshelf to fill.'

‘Right, then, I'll be off.'

Mathieu's lip curled into a contemptuous smile. ‘The schedule?' he suggested.

The other man struggled to smile back. ‘Just so…and thank you once more for helping Miss Hall.'