His Defiant Mistress: The Millionaire's Rebellious Mistress / The Venetian's Midnight Mistress / The Billionaire's Virgin Mistress. CATHERINE GEORGE

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His Defiant Mistress: The Millionaire's Rebellious Mistress / The Venetian's Midnight Mistress / The Billionaire's Virgin Mistress - CATHERINE  GEORGE

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‘He’s too clever by half.’

      Since this was more or less the same comment he’d made about Alex Merrick, Sarah smiled, amused. It was obviously Harry’s general attitude towards the young and successful male.

      When Daniel came back with their lunches he leaned on the other side of the bar while Sarah and Harry ate, asking about the project Sarah had just finished.

      ‘I didn’t do it on my own,’ she assued him. ‘I had Harry’s invaluable input all along, plus some from Mr Carter here, and from several other people Harry roped in along the way.’

      Daniel raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought you were semi-retired, Mr Sollers?’

      ‘Miss Carver needed my help,’ said Harry flatly, and turned away to talk to Fred.

      ‘He doesn’t approve of soft city-types like me,’ said Daniel in an undertone, then grinned. ‘Though he’s best known for his disapproval of the female of the species, so how did you get him work to work for you?’

      ‘Harry works with me,’ Sarah said with emphasis. ‘Lucky for me he approved of my aim to restore the cottages rather than demolish them.’

      ‘Ah, I see! I’d like to see the result of your labours,’ he added. ‘May I come and marvel some time?’

      ‘By all means.’

      ‘Let me get you another drink.’

      She shook her head, smiling. ‘I must get back.’

      Harry turned back to her. ‘I’ll drop you off, boss, then I’m going to the vicarage to measure up the window Mrs Allenby wants replaced. I’ll get back to you after that and wait for Ian.’

      ‘No need, Harry. Just run me back now and I can do the waiting. I’ve got nothing planned for this afternoon. I’ll potter around in the gardens, then read until the night shift comes on.’

      ‘In that case maybe I’ll do a bit in my own garden.’ He lifted her down from the bar stool, and Sarah said a general goodbye to everyone, including Daniel, who smiled back with a warmth so marked that Harry teased her about it as they drove back.

      Sarah felt restless as she wandered through the cottages later. It would be wonderful to sell the lot, even if it were to the Merrick Group. But work on them had taken up almost her entire life until recently, and she felt a sharp pang of regret at the thought of parting with them. Idiot! As Oliver so rightly said, if she were to make any kind of success there was no room for sentiment as a property developer, even for a fledgling one like herself. Though if money had been her only aim she could have sold the cottages to a buyer who’d offered for them before she’d even left London. But the offer had been so unrealistic she’d turned it down without a second thought.

      Right now she just had to get through the rest of the day, hope the building inspection had gone well, and meet with Alex in the morning. Then, once the money was in her account, she could concentrate on getting the Westhope barn development off the ground. With this cheering thought in mind, Sarah curled up with her book and settled down to wait until her young security staff arrived.

      A knock on the door brought Sarah to her feet, surprised. She’d been enjoying the book, but not so much that she wouldn’t have heard an approaching car. She opened the front door to find Daniel Mason smiling down at her.

      ‘Hello, Miss Sarah Carver. I fancied a stroll, so I took you at your word.’

      CHAPTER FIVE

      SARAH RETURNED the smile, not sorry for company on an afternoon which was already beginning to drag. ‘So you did, Daniel Mason. Come in. I’ll give you the tour.’

      ‘Thank you. Only I prefer Dan. May I call you Sarah?’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘After you left,’ said Dan, as she took him round, ‘I was told all sorts of tall tales; how you do your own plastering and tiling and God knows what besides. That can’t possibly be true?’

      ‘Yes, all of it,’ she assured him. ‘But Harry saw to the basic, essential things required by the building survey. And he put in new windows and did all the finishing after I’d done my bit.’

      ‘And no one does it better than Harry Sollers. But he’s well known for preferring to work solo. So how come he agreed to work for—I mean with—you?’

      ‘I asked him and he said yes.’

      Dan gave her a head-to-toe scrutiny rather too personal for comfort, and grinned. ‘Of course he did.’

      Sarah turned to lead the way downstairs. ‘This is the only one I’ve furnished, but otherwise the houses are all the same.’

      ‘You’ve done an amazing job,’ he told her. ‘If they were in London they’d sell in a flash—and for a lot more than you’ll get down here. I’d like to stay a while, Sarah,’ he added. ‘Unless you’re busy?’

      She could hardly say she was, since he’d spotted the open book. ‘For the first time in ages I’m not. I was reading when you came.’

      ‘Fred told me that you’ve got young Ian Sollers staying here at night. What time does he get here?’

      ‘About six, as a rule.’

      ‘What will you do after he gets here?’

      ‘Go home.’

      ‘And where’s home?’

      ‘You ask a lot of questions!’

      He smiled. ‘It’s the quickest way to get answers.’

      ‘You could have asked around in the bar.’

      Dan shook his head. ‘I was pretty sure you might not like that. Though I was told,’ he went on, ‘that you don’t socialise with the local lads. Why?’

      ‘It seemed best to steer clear of complications in a community like this.’

      ‘Is there a non-local man in your life?’

      ‘Yes. My godfather. They were pretty impressed at your pub because he wined and dined me at Easthope Court recently,’ she said lightly.

      ‘Well-heeled godfather, then!’

      ‘He’s a QC, and successful, so I suppose he must be. More important from my point of view, he takes his responsibilities as godfather very seriously. He wasn’t happy when I insisted on bidding for this lot,’ said Sarah wryly. ‘He doesn’t like my flat, either.’

      ‘At the address you didn’t give me,’ he reminded her.

      ‘It’s no secret. I live in Medlar House.’

      ‘Really?’ Dan grinned. ‘I used to go to dances there when it was a girls’ school.’

      Another one! ‘They were obviously popular, those dances.’

      ‘I

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