His Christmas Eve Proposal. Кэрол Мортимер
But maybe Donald hadn’t been married. Maybe this girl was the result of a brief relationship all those years ago. Whatever—it didn’t make her any less than Donald’s daughter.
Hawk had never once heard Donald mention her in the ten years he’d worked for him, let alone seen her!
But had Donald seen her during that time? Hawk supposed that he must have done. After all, his employee had holidays, free time, and he certainly didn’t owe Hawk any explanations about his personal life.
Where had Rosie suddenly appeared from? Because he was pretty sure that Donald hadn’t known she was going to join them here when he’d come ahead from Los Angeles a couple of days ago.
More to the point, why had she come…?
Hawk felt a little dazed. ‘Perhaps we should get you back to bed,’ he murmured, as Donald coughed painfully. ‘Rosie can tell me anything else I need to know,’ he concluded, with a narrow-eyed glance in her direction.
But Rosie had no intention of telling him anything more than she absolutely had to!
Hawk’s surprise at discovering she was actually Donald’s daughter, rather than the lover he had clearly assumed her to be, had been pretty obvious. But, if anything, he looked more disapproving of the true explanation of their relationship than he had of his previous assumption!
She shrugged off the movie star’s disapproval impatiently. Her father might work for Hawk, and as such owe him some sort of explanation as to why she was here, but that didn’t mean Rosie was answerable to him too.
Not even if she was to be a temporary guest in his home?
No, not even then, she decided stubbornly.
‘Let’s go and finish our coffee,’ Hawk suggested, softly but firmly, as they settled Donald back in his bed. The effort of coming downstairs seemed to have tired out the factotum, and he lay back exhausted against the pillows.
‘Would you like me to stay and make you some tea?’ Rosie offered gently, at the same time pointedly ignoring Hawk. ‘Or bring you a glass of cool juice?’
Donald gave a weak smile. ‘No, I—I’ll be fine. You go and talk to Hawk,’ he encouraged huskily.
Not what she wanted to do at all, Rosie reflected, as she turned and preceded Hawk from the flat and back down the stairs to the kitchen in the main house, all the time thinking of what she actually needed, had to tell, this disturbingly attractive man.
Not that much, really, she decided. The bare bones of the truth should do it. She hadn’t had a chance to tell her father everything yesterday, about her reasons for being here, and there was no need to tell Hawk either.
‘Have you finished deciding how much I need to know?’ Hawk probed wryly once they were seated back at the breakfast bar, knowing by the way her cheeks became flushed that he had scored a direct hit with his question.
She raised her pointed chin defensively. ‘My father has already told you all there is to know, Mr Hawkley—’
‘Hawk,’ he put in firmly, elbows resting on the breakfast bar as he studied her across its width. ‘Somehow I don’t think that’s true, Rosie,’ he persisted. ‘For instance, the glaringly obvious thing Donald hasn’t told me is why I didn’t know of your existence until today!’
Auburn brows rose over her cool green eyes. ‘Perhaps he didn’t consider it any of your business,’ she dismissed.
Hawk was starting to feel seriously irritated by this woman’s deliberate rudeness. She certainly hadn’t looked so cool earlier, when he had strolled out of the bathroom stark naked!
If he were honest, he hadn’t felt that cool himself when he’d first became aware of her in his bedroom—the tell-tale stirring of his body had been proof of that! He studied her closely now, noting the golden ring circling the green of her eyes, making them appear almost luminous, and the freckles that covered her nose, making him wonder if she had freckles anywhere else. And what it would feel like to kiss every one of them…
He straightened, impatient with his own wandering thoughts. He wasn’t involved in a relationship with anyone at the moment, but he had only left Los Angeles yesterday—the land of plenty when it came to beautiful available women. Finding himself attracted to Rosie Harrison, who took the phrase ‘woman of mystery’ to a whole new level, was a complication he certainly didn’t need. Now or at any other time.
‘Are you here to spend Christmas with Donald?’ he enquired tersely, the thought of Rosie sharing the flat over the garage with Donald during the holidays robbing him of some of his contentment at the contemplation of a quiet family Christmas.
‘That hasn’t been decided yet,’ she answered noncommittally.
She brought a whole new dimension to that saying about getting blood out of a stone too, Hawk acknowledged impatiently, deciding he had had enough of this verbal fencing for one morning.
‘Although the fact that he’s obviously ill does rather change things, doesn’t it?’ Rosie suddenly opined.
Hawk eyed her warily. ‘It does?’
‘Well, of course it does,’ she came back waspishly. ‘Apart from the fact that he’s ill and will need looking after, he’s obviously also unable to work. As I understand it, you’re expecting the rest of your family to descend on you in the next few days…?’
‘Yes…’ Hawk confirmed, wariness in his own tone now.
‘And Don—my father,’ she corrected awkwardly, ‘was supposed to shop for food, put up the decorations and things?’
‘Yes.’ Hawk nodded, very aware of the fact that she seemed to be having difficulty actually calling Donald her father.
Damn it, why did Donald have to get the flu now? Because Hawk was pretty sure he was going to have to wait until his assistant was better before he got any helpful answers to his questions!
No matter how much she was determined not to answer Hawk’s questions, Rosie was also aware that if he chose to tell Donald she couldn’t stay on here her father would have no choice but to ask her to leave. And the truth was, at this moment in time, she didn’t have anywhere else to go to…
In the circumstances, it wasn’t in her best interests to be completely uncooperative…
‘Well, I could do those things for you instead—if you would like me to,’ she offered lightly. ‘If you’ll just point me in the direction of the nearest supermarket and tell me where you keep the Christmas decorations…?’ she prompted, at Hawk’s lack of a response to her offer.
He raised dark brows over mocking blue eyes, a slightly derisive smile curving the sculptured mouth that was set so arrogantly in his ruggedly handsome face. Rosie’s pulse fluttered slightly as she was once again forcibly reminded of exactly who this man was.
Only a woman who was deaf, blind or totally insensitive to blatant sexiness could fail not to tremble slightly with awareness in his presence.
But she was a woman running away from her wedding day, from a man she neither loved nor wanted to marry, which should have made her totally immune to the attractions of any other member of the opposite sex.
But it didn’t…
She tried to break her gaze away from the compelling blue of Hawk’s eyes. And failed. Instead she felt as if she were drowning in their dark depths, as if she were trying to swim against the tide, and the effort to resist rendered her slightly breathless and trembling.
This wouldn’t do, she told herself firmly. Joshua Hawkley might be one of the most dangerously attractive men she had ever met, but he was also her father’s employer—her father’s over-curious employer! She would be wise to keep that in mind.
It took some effort, but she finally managed to drag her gaze away from his, staring at a point somewhere over