you later.’
‘Holly?’
She stopped at the door to look back at the housekeeper. ‘What?’
‘Don’t make things worse for him by speaking to the press if they come here. He doesn’t deserve that. He’s trying to help you, in his way. Don’t bite the hand that’s reached out to help you.’
‘Okay, okay, already. I won’t speak to the press,’ Holly said. ‘Why would I want to? They’ll only twist things and make me look bad.’
‘Can I trust you?’
‘Yes.’
‘He won’t let you win, you know.’
Holly kept her expression innocent. ‘Win what?’
Sophia gave her a knowing look. ‘I know what you’re trying to do but it won’t work. Not with him. If he wants to get involved with you then it will be on his terms, not yours. He won’t be manipulated or tricked into it.’
‘That’s quite some pedestal you’ve got him on,’ Holly said. ‘But then, he pays you good money. You’d say anything to keep your job.’
‘He’s a good man,’ Sophia said. ‘And deep down I know you’re a good woman.’
You don’t know me, Holly thought as she closed the door. No one does.
I won’t let them.
JULIUS WAS STANDING at the windows of the dining room when Holly came in with the food. She unloaded the tray on the table and then turned briskly to leave.
‘Aren’t you joining me?’ he asked.
Her chin came up. ‘Apparently I’m not dressed for the occasion.’
There was a bite to her tone that made him wonder if he had upset her. Embarrassed her. Hurt her, even. She always acted so defiant and in-your-face feisty that to hear that slightly wounded note to her voice faintly disturbed him. There was so much about her that intrigued him. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to uncover her secrets. The secrets he caught a glimpse of in her eyes. The shifting shadows on her face he witnessed when she didn’t think he was looking at her.
She was an enigma. A mystery he wanted to solve. She played the bad girl so well, yet he saw elements to her that showed her vulnerability, her kindness. Like the way she had taken over the kitchen so Sophia could rest. That showed sensitivity and kindness, didn’t it? Or was he being the biggest sucker out to fall for it? Was it all an act? A charade? How could she be as bad as she made out? What was her motive to make him think she was out to seduce him? Was it because he wasn’t taking her up on it? Did his refusal to succumb to the temptation she offered make her see him as even more of a challenge?
‘It’s not a formal dinner,’ Julius said. ‘If I had guests, then, yes, I would insist on you dressing appropriately. I’m sorry I didn’t realise you haven’t the suitable attire in which to do so but that will be rectified as soon as possible tomorrow.’
Her small, neat chin came up. ‘Once you’ve coughed up that dictionary you’ve swallowed, maybe you’ll have room for the dinner I’ve prepared. Bon appetit.’
He let out an exasperated breath. ‘Look, if I’ve upset you I’m sorry. But things are a little crazy for me just now.’
Her eyes flashed with unbridled disdain. ‘Why would I be upset by someone like you? I don’t care about your opinion of me or my clothes. It means nothing to me. You mean nothing to me.’
Julius pulled out the chair to the left of his. ‘Please join me for dinner.’
Her mouth took on a mutinous pout. ‘Why? So you can train me like a pet monkey?’ She put her hands on her hips, deepened her voice and did a surprisingly credible imitation of his British accent. ‘Don’t hold your knife like a dagger. That’s the wrong fork. Don’t cut your bread. Break it. No, don’t call it a serviette, call it a napkin.’
Julius couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching. She had definitely missed her calling. She could tread the boards as well as anyone. ‘I promise not to criticise you.’
She narrowed her gaze in scepticism. ‘Promise?’
He didn’t know which Holly he preferred—the snarky challenger or the hot little seductress. Both, he realised with a jolt of surprise, were vastly entertaining. ‘Promise.’
She made a little huffing noise. ‘Fine.’
He seated her then came around to his own chair and took his place. He spread his napkin out across his lap and watched as Holly expertly served the vegetable dish with silver-service expertise. Then she served the herbed chicken galantine with the same level of competence. She sent him a look from beneath half-mast lashes that made him realise how much he had underestimated her. How much he had misjudged her. She might come across as a bad girl from the wrong side of the tracks but underneath that don’t-mess-with-me attitude was a young woman with surprising dignity and class. And pride.
During the course of their meal he made desultory conversation: stuff about the weather, movies and the state of the economy but she didn’t seem inclined to talk. The questions he asked her were greeted with monosyllabic responses. He tried using open-ended questions but she just shrugged in a bored manner and mumbled something noncommittal in reply. She didn’t eat much, either. She just moved the food around her plate, only taking the occasional mouthful. Was she doing it to punish him? To make him regret his all-too-quick summation of her character and seeming lack of abilities? She was more than capable of holding her own in sophisticated company. Why had she let him believe otherwise? Or was she just contrary for the heck of it? Thumbing her nose up at anyone who judged her without getting to know her?
‘Are you not feeling well?’ Julius asked.
‘I’m fine.’
He studied her for a beat or two. ‘You’re sweating.’
She gave him a haughty look. ‘Ladies don’t sweat. They perspire.’
He felt another smile tug at his mouth at the way she so expertly parodied his accent. ‘Take off your cardigan if you’re hot.’
Her eyes skittered away from his. ‘I’m not hot.’
He watched as she made another attempt at her meal but every now and again she would shift in her seat or wriggle her neck and shoulders as if her clothing was making her itchy.
‘Holly.’
‘What?’
‘Take it off. You’re clearly uncomfortable.’
‘I’m not.’
‘Would you like me to adjust the air-conditioning?’
‘I told you, I’m fine.’
He shook
