whether Luke Richmond resided at his mother’s home on a permanent basis, or whether he had just been visiting for the weekend. But if he did live there, Leonie knew she would find going there every weekend in order to write this book, with the resentful Luke very much in evidence, totally intolerable.
‘I’m not sure I want to do this, Jeremy,’ she said with feeling. ‘I—I have an uneasy feeling about it.’ A totally inexplicable, but nevertheless very real, sense of unease. In fact, the feeling was so strong that she had wanted to run out of the house earlier today and never look back. Incredible, but true.
’Is Rachel Richmond still as beautiful as she looks in photographs?’ Jeremy prompted interestedly.
Leonie smiled as she remembered Rachel’s genuine warmth and beauty. ‘Oh, yes,’ she answered unhesitantly. ‘Perhaps there’s something to be said for remaining unmarried,’ she added jokingly. ‘Rachel certainly doesn’t seem to have developed any worry lines over the years!’
Jeremy shook his head ruefully. ‘I doubt she’s lived completely without male company all these years,’ he said dryly.
‘No, there’s Lu— Her son,’ she hastily corrected the familiarity; after all, he wasn’t a man who invited it!
‘I wasn’t exactly referring to that sort of male company,’ Jeremy teased, laughing as she grimaced her realisation of what he did mean. ‘Anyway, Leonie, you have to admit, it has to be a very tempting offer? One that deserves thinking about?’
Oh, it was tempting, all right, if only because Leonie knew it would be a challenge. As for thinking about it—she had a feeling she was going to do little else until she spoke to Rachel again the following week…
’You look surprised to see me,’ Luke Richmond drawled coldly as he stood on her doorstep, totally blocking out the sun that was trying to shine into the doorway of her basement flat.
Of course she was surprised to see him! For one thing, she had no idea how he had found out her home address when all his mother had was her telephone number at the university. For another, she hadn’t been expecting him. He hadn’t given any indication at his mother’s home yesterday that he had any desire ever to set eyes on her again, either!
Besides, she wasn’t exactly dressed to receive company, her denims old and faded, the pink tee shirt having shrunk in the wash, added to which her feet were completely bare.
‘Well?’ he rasped at her lack of response to his statement.
‘Well, what, Mr Richmond?’ she returned tartly. This was her home, and her time, and she did not appreciate having her Sunday afternoon interrupted by this man in this arrogant way. Although from the little she had learnt of him yesterday, she had a feeling he didn’t know how to behave in any other way!
Dark brows rose mockingly over pale green eyes. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in? Or is that a problem for you?’ he added derisively.
Leonie’s frown deepened. ‘In what way would it be a problem for me, Mr Richmond?’ she returned impatiently.
He shrugged broad shoulders beneath the black jacket and green shirt he wore with black trousers. ‘Perhaps it might prove—inconvenient for you, if you already have someone in residence?’ His eyes narrowed speculatively.
Deep grey eyes flashed her anger at his obvious derision. ‘I live alone, Mr Richmond,’ she snapped, pointedly holding the door open wider so that he could walk inside.
‘I’ve never yet known that as a viable reason for not having the occasional—weekend house-guest,’ he drawled mockingly, his physical presence making the hallway seem extremely narrow.
And Leonie extremely uncomfortable!
Consequently her reply was sharper than usual. ’Don’t judge everyone by your own standards, Mr Richmond,’ she snapped.
His only physical response to her obvious sarcasm was a slight rising of his dark brows. ‘Can you really see Rachel accepting my taking a procession of women into her home?’ he scorned.
Leonie frowned. ‘You live in Hampshire with your mother…?’ It was a question she had wanted an answer to since yesterday!
He shrugged. ‘Most of the time. Like you, I have an apartment in London; I just rarely use it.’
‘How nice to have that luxury,’ Leonie snapped scathingly; it took most of her wages to keep even this small apartment in London—and she was sure that this man’s London home was much more luxurious than this.
‘I think so,’ Luke drawled. ‘Do you have a problem with my living arrangements?’ His gaze had narrowed ominously.
‘Not in the least,’ Leonie dismissed uninterestedly. ‘Would you like to come through to the sitting-room?’ She pushed open the door to the right of where they stood, leading the way into her sparsely furnished sitting-room.
His mouth twisted derisively as he followed her. ‘I thought you would never ask,’ he murmured dryly.
Leonie shot him a reproving glance before turning to check that the sitting-room was at least tidy; she usually cleaned the apartment on a Sunday, but she hadn’t got as far as this room yet today. Everything looked as neat as usual, only yesterday’s newspaper on the coffee-table out of place.
It was a deliberately uncluttered room, completely bare of photographs, the chairs and tables cane, coloured scatter rugs on the highly polished light-coloured wood floor, a couple of Monet prints on the cream walls.
She bent down to pick up the newspaper, tucking it under her arm. ‘Can I get you a coffee? Or anything?’ she offered awkwardly.
‘Coffee will be fine; it’s a little early in the day for “anything”,’ Luke Richmond drawled, looking dubiously at one of the cane chairs. ‘Is that thing strong enough to take my weight, do you think?’ he murmured ruefully.
‘If it isn’t, I’m sure buying me a replacement won’t be a problem for you,’ Leonie snapped rudely, her cheeks flushing deeply red as he looked across at her, brows raised mockingly.
Get a grip, Leonie, she instantly rebuked herself. Okay, so the man was rude and condescending, but that was no reason to lower herself to his level!
‘I’ll go and make some coffee,’ she muttered before hurrying from the room, only breathing easily again once she reached the warm brightness of her cream and yellow kitchen.
What was Luke Richmond doing here?
As if she really needed to ask!
Obviously his mother had told him of her decision to offer Leonie the chance to write her biography—and Luke was here to see that Leonie turned down that offer. That alone was enough to make her want to accept it!
Which, in her opinion, was a totally childish reaction. She was twenty-nine years old, with a doctorate in History, was a well-respected university lecturer, and, even if she did say so herself, her biography on her grandfather the previous year had been well received.
But, then, that was the real problem for Luke Richmond, wasn’t it?
‘Here we are.’ She put the laden coffee tray on the
