His Child. Sharon Kendrick
thought of her mother’s house and gave a slow smile. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said in a soft voice, and smiled. ‘Very, very definitely.’
He smiled back, but the smile died on his lips as he forced himself to look away from the slender outline of her legs, relieved when Langley High Street came into view and he was able to draw up outside her office.
‘Thanks very much,’ she said as she began to push open the door. ‘I enjoyed that!’
‘No, thank you,’ he said gravely, but as soon as she had slammed the door closed behind her, he made the car pull away. He didn’t want to watch her confident young stride as she walked to the office, or the way her firm young breasts pushed against her soft, clinging sweater.
Lisi saw Philip seven, maybe eight times after that—on a purely professional basis. Sometimes Jonathon would accompany him on the viewings, but mostly it was her. For some reason she grew to know his tastes better than Jonathon. Often she would mentally reject a house once she had skimmed through the details, then phone him and suggest that he might like to see it.
‘Do you like it?’ he would demand.
She hesitated.
‘Do you, Lisi?’
‘I don’t think it’s quite what you’re looking for.’
‘Then I won’t waste my time coming to see it.’
Leaving her wondering why she had been so foolish! Why hadn’t she said that it was the most gorgeous place she had ever set eyes on?
Because then he wouldn’t trust her judgement, and the fact that a man like Philip did meant more to her than it should have done.
She adored him, despite his emotional distance, but she kept it hidden from everyone—from Jonathon, from Saul Miller, even from her mother. And, especially, from Philip himself. Maybe she was aware that to fall for Philip Caprice would be batting right out of her league. And besides, it would be strictly unprofessional.
But she looked forward to his visits and they became the highlight of her life. Casually, she used to scour the diary to see when he was coming next, and—although she didn’t make it look too obvious—she always felt her best on those days. Her hair always newly washed, and a subtle touching of fragrance behind her ears and at her wrists.
And then one glorious spring afternoon Philip walked into the office without his customary, flinty expression. He had loosened his tie and he seemed lighter in his mood, Lisi thought, though she wouldn’t have dreamed of asking him why. That was not the way their relationship worked. They talked houses. Interest rates. Business trends.
‘Hello, Philip.’ She smiled.
He looked into her aquamarine eyes and smiled back. Carla had moved her fingers last night. The doctors were cautious, but quietly optimistic, and for the first time since the accident Philip had slept the night without waking. This morning he had awoken without the habitual tight knot of tension in his stomach. ‘Hello, Lisi.’ He smiled back. ‘So what have you got for me?’
‘I think you’ll like it,’ she said demurely.
The house she had rung him about was about as perfect as it was possible for a house to be. She had never heard Philip sound quite so enthusiastic, and the offer he made was accepted immediately. A rather more generous offer than usual, she noted, and briefly wondered what had made his mood quite so expansive.
It was getting on for six o’clock by the time he drove her back into Langley, and all the way along the lanes the hedges and trees were laced with the tender green buds of spring. He sighed. Spring. The time of new beginnings. He prayed that the signs were not misleading, and that there would be a new beginning for Carla.
Lisi heard the sigh, saw where he was looking. ‘It’s beautiful around this time of year, isn’t it?’
He glanced across at her as she put her notebook back into her bag and snapped it shut.
He liked her. She worked hard and she didn’t ask any questions. With Lisi he could relax, and he tried to think back to the last time he had done that. Really relaxed. ‘I feel like celebrating,’ he said.
‘Well, then—why don’t we? A quick drink won’t hurt.’ Her heart missed a beat while she waited to hear what he would say.
‘Okay.’ He changed down a gear. ‘Where shall we go?’
‘There’s the pub or the hotel—either are good.’
‘Yeah,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I’m driving on to Somerset tomorrow, so I’m staying at the hotel.’ Maybe they’d better go to the pub.
‘I’ll just have to ring my mother and tell her I’m going to be a little late.’
He raised his eyebrows, surprised. ‘You live with your mother?’
Lisi smiled at his expression. How little of her he knew! ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Unusual, at your age.’
‘I suppose so—but we get on very well.’ No need to tell him that on her salary there was no way she could afford a place of her own, even if she had wanted to.
They went to the pub and settled down with their wine, but away from the usual professional boundaries which defined their relationship, Lisi found herself gulping hers down more quickly than usual.
He saw her empty glass and one elegant eyebrow was elevated. ‘Another?’
‘Please.’ She nodded automatically, her eyes drinking in his tall, lean frame as he went up to buy her another drink.
She told him little anecdotes about village life, and when he smiled that slow, sexy smile she felt as though she had won first prize in a competition.
‘You must let me buy you a drink now!’ she offered, wishing that the evening could just go on and on.
He shook his dark, ruffled head. ‘I’m fine. Really.’
‘No, honestly—I insist! Just the one.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Equal rights for women, and all that!’
He laughed, thinking, Why not? ‘Okay, Lisi,’ he said gently. ‘Just the one.’
In the cosy warmth of the bar, Lisi chatted away, and Philip was thinking that maybe it was getting just a little too cosy. He glanced at his watch. ‘I guess it’s about time we made a move,’ he said, when he noticed that her cheeks had gone very pink and that she kept blinking her beautiful aquamarine eyes. ‘Are you okay?’ he frowned.
She nodded, even though the room was beginning to blur a little. ‘I’m fine,’ she gulped. But with a quick a glance at her watch she realised she’d drunk in record quick time. ‘I’m just a bit whoozy. I guess I’m not used to drinking.’
‘Have you eaten?’ he demanded.
‘No.’
His mouth tightened. A great influence he was turning out to be. And now she had acquired a deathly kind of pallor. He couldn’t possibly send her home to her mother if she was half-cut, could he?
‘Come on,’ he said decisively, standing up and holding out his hand to her. ‘You need something to soak up that alcohol.’
She clutched onto his hand gratefully and allowed him to lead her out of the pub. Outside the fresh air hit her like a sledgehammer, and she swayed against him and giggled.
Philip shot her a swift, assessing look. She needed food and then he needed out. What he did not need was some beautiful young woman brushing the delectable curves of her body so close to his.
But by the time they reached his hotel, Lisi had gone very pale indeed and Philip realised that he was trapped. He couldn’t send her home like this, but neither could he see her managing to sit through a meal in a stuffy restaurant.
‘You