The Guardian's Forbidden Mistress. Miranda Lee

The Guardian's Forbidden Mistress - Miranda Lee


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      ‘My God, you know nothing!’ he flung at her. ‘Your father thought he was protecting you with his will. Instead, he set you up for disaster. He should have given most of his money away, donated it to some charity, not left it in the hands of a girl such as you.’

      ‘What do you mean, a girl such as me?’

      He opened his mouth to say something but then obviously thought better of it. Instead, he picked up her bags and carried them along the hallway to her room, the stiff set of his shoulders very telling. After dumping her cases just inside the door, he retreated back out into the hallway.

      ‘We’ll continue this discussion later,’ he said in that deceptively quiet manner he always adopted on the odd occasion when he was in danger of losing his cool.

      Over the years Sarah had learned to recognise this tactic of his. Nick hated losing his temper. Hated losing control. He preferred to act like the consummate ice-man, both professionally and personally. She’d rarely heard him yell. He didn’t even swear any more, as he once had.

      But his body language could speak volumes. So could his eyes.

      Though not always. He did have the ability to make them totally unreadable. But not straight away. If you were watching him closely, you could sometimes glimpse what was going on in his head before he drew the blinds down.

      ‘We’ll have morning tea in the kitchen,’ he pronounced, ‘then we’ll adjourn to my study and talk.’

      ‘Not about Derek,’ Sarah retorted. ‘I have no intention of listening to you criticising someone you haven’t even met.’

      ‘Fair enough. But I have lots of other things to talk to you about, Sarah. Important issues connected with your inheritance. I want to have everything settled before Christmas.’

      ‘But I don’t turn twenty-five till February,’ she protested. ‘We have the rest of my summer break to settle things!’

      ‘No, we don’t. I won’t be here.’

      ‘Where will you be?’

      ‘I’m spending most of January on Happy Island.’

      Sarah’s heart sank. She knew Nick had a holiday house there. But he rarely used it at this time of year.

      ‘Flora never said anything about that when I called.’

      ‘The subject probably didn’t come up.’

      ‘There’s still the week between Christmas and New Year,’ she argued, feeling very put out with Nick’s choosing to go away for so long.

      ‘Yes. But I’m having a guest stay during that week. And you have your new boyfriend, who you freely admit you wish to spend every minute of every day with. Better we settle everything whilst we have the chance.’

      ‘But I have to decorate the tree today.’

      ‘I just want a couple of hours, Sarah. Not all day.’

      ‘What about tonight? Can’t this wait till tonight?’

      ‘I’m going present-shopping tonight.’

      Sarah sighed. Wasn’t that just like a man to go present-shopping at the last minute?

      ‘Come on,’ he said abruptly. ‘Let’s go downstairs.’

      ‘I need to go to the bathroom first,’ she said quite truthfully.

      ‘Fine,’ he replied with another offhand shrug. ‘I’ll go ahead and tell Flora to put on the kettle.’

      Sarah shook her head as she watched Nick go. Derek didn’t know what he was talking about. Dolling herself up tomorrow and sucking up to a pretend boyfriend wasn’t going to make a blind bit of difference. She was nothing to Nick but an obligation that he obviously wanted over and done with. It was clear to Sarah that he couldn’t wait for her twenty-fifth birthday to arrive.

      Suddenly, she felt the same way. She was sick and tired of letting her feelings for Nick distress her. Sick and tired of secretly pining for what would never be.

      Time to move on, girl. Time to get yourself a life. One that doesn’t include Nick!

      CHAPTER THREE

      FLORA was in the kitchen, cutting up the caramel slice she’d made that morning, when Nick walked in with a face like thunder.

      ‘Wasn’t that Sarah at the door?’ she asked.

      ‘Yep. She won’t be long. You can put on the kettle.’

      Flora turned to pop the caramel slice back in the fridge before switching on the electric kettle. ‘It’s good to have her home,’ she said. ‘Isn’t it?’

      Nick scowled as he slid onto one of the four stools fronting the black marble breakfast bar. ‘Speak for yourself, Flora.’

      ‘Come, now, Nick. You’ve missed her. You know you have.’

      ‘I know no such thing. Ray was out of his mind to make me that girl’s guardian. I’ll breathe a huge sigh of relief when February comes round, I can tell you.’

      ‘I suppose it has been a big responsibility,’ Flora agreed. ‘Especially considering how much money she’s going to inherit. What do you make of this new boyfriend of hers? Do you think he’s on the up and up?’

      ‘Who knows?’

      ‘It’s strange that she hadn’t mentioned him before last night, don’t you think? It makes me wonder what’s wrong with him.’

      ‘I’ve just been thinking the same thing. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.’

      ‘I guess so,’ Flora said. ‘So how does she look?’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘She told me last night that she’d been exercising and had lost weight. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.’

      ‘Yeah, I noticed.’

      ‘And?’ Flora asked, exasperated with Nick’s reluctance to elaborate. He was just as bad as Jim sometimes. Why was it that men didn’t like to talk? It would be nice to have Sarah home, just so she had someone to chat with occasionally.

      ‘I thought she looked fine the way she was.’

      ‘Isn’t that just like a man? They never want the women in their life to change. Aah, there she is, the girl herself. Come over here, love, and give old Flora a hug.’

      Sarah’s heart squeezed tight when Flora enveloped her into a tight embrace. It had been a long time since anyone had hugged her like that.

      There’d been no hug from Nick this morning. Not even a peck on the cheek. He never touched her, except accidentally.

      Her gaze slid over Flora’s shoulder to land on the man himself. But he wasn’t looking her way. He was staring down at the black bench top, looking highly disgruntled.

      Probably wishing he were at golf.

      ‘Oh, my,’ Flora said when she finally held Sarah out at arm’s length. ‘You have lost quite a few pounds, haven’t you? Still, now you can have a big piece of your favourite caramel slice without feeling guilty,’ she added before turning away to open the fridge. ‘I made it for you first thing this morning.’

      ‘You shouldn’t have, Flora,’ Sarah chided, but gently.

      ‘Nonsense. What else do I have to do? Did you know that the whole of the Christmas lunch is being catered this year? Nick says it’s too much for me. All I’m allowed to do is make a couple of miserable puddings. I ask you!’

      She rolled her eyes at Sarah, who was thinking to herself that Flora had aged quite a bit this past year. Her face was very lined and her hair had turned totally grey.

      ‘Not


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