moment, neither of them dared to breathe. When, finally, Josie was certain that she was safe from another fit of the giggles, she said, ‘I’d better light the candles.’
‘No hurry. This is good.’
Before she could react, the bell rang at the foot of the steps, and then a dark figure appeared in the open doorway.
‘Rra?’
‘We’re here, Francis. Give us some light, will you?’
‘Are you hurt, Rra?’ he asked as he lit the candles and the room filled with soft light. ‘Oh, madam, you are here too. Can I help you?’
‘Just see to the nets, Francis,’ Gideon said. ‘We’re fine where we are.’
Nets?
Josie watched Francis unfasten them from the bedposts and spread them out so that they turned the bed into a gauzy cloister. Her turn to let slip an expletive. She’d thought they looked romantic, but they were mosquito nets.
‘Is there anything I can bring you? Rra, madam?’
‘A large single malt whisky for Miss Fowler and a bottle of mineral water for me, Francis. And I’m sure Miss Fowler would welcome something to nibble on. It’s a long time since she had lunch.’
‘Yes, Rra.’
‘A long time since lunch?’ she challenged, the minute he’d gone. ‘I didn’t have any lunch. And the monkey ate my breakfast. It’s no wonder I nearly passed out on you.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll share.’
‘I won’t. I hope you enjoy your mineral water.’ Then, ‘Why didn’t you let Francis help you up?’
‘No rush. It’s therapeutic, remember? Just lie there quietly until he comes back.’
‘I haven’t got a bad back,’ she reminded him. Not because she didn’t want to stay where she was, her hand feeling small and feminine tucked in his. But it wasn’t wise, not when just being close to him was jump-starting emotions that she’d successfully held in stasis for so long that she’d become complacent, assuming herself to be immune.
‘Maybe not, but you don’t want to risk another dizzy spell. It being so long since you’ve eaten.’
‘You are soooo thoughtful.’
‘That’s me. A man you can count on in a crisis.’
‘A man you can count on to cause a crisis,’ she retaliated. Then, before they started in on one another again, she said, ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake. I have something to say so will you just lie there and be quiet for a moment so that I can get it off my chest?’
‘An apology? They’re worse than a trip to the dentist,’ he said sympathetically.
She was forced to bite her lip, take a breath. He really, really didn’t deserve one, but she would apologise if it killed her. ‘The thing is, Gideon…What I have to say is…’
‘I’m not sure that there’s time for this before Francis comes back.’
‘You’re not making this easy.’
‘Sorry…’
It was a deliberate attempt to set her off again, she knew, but she held her breath, stared straight up at the ceiling, refusing to be distracted.
‘What I want to say is that I might…just…be a little bit of a control freak—’
‘What a coincidence. I’d have said that too,’ he broke in, so that she lost the momentum of the apology she’d been rehearsing as she’d counted tablecloths.
Just from his voice, she knew that he was smiling, undoubtedly with smug self-satisfaction. That was his problem, not hers, however, and, before he could say something that would make her forget every one of her good intentions, she pressed on.
‘As I was saying, I have a very real problem with people taking over my life, leaving me without a choice…’
This was where he was supposed to interrupt, say that he understood, that he had been heavy-handed and was sorry. Instead, there was a long pause, then Gideon said, ‘Is that it?’
‘…and, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I apologise for my overreaction to your high-handed actions,’ she spat out through gritted teeth. Then, when he still didn’t leap in to agree that he had been high-handed in the extreme, she added, ‘Although, to be honest, I believe I would have been perfectly justified in dumping you over the railing and leaving you to the mercy of the crocodiles.’ She allowed herself a smile. ‘Okay, that’s it. I’m done.’
‘Well, that’s a relief. I was beginning to think I was the one who should be feeling guilty.’
She didn’t say a word.
‘I see. Right, well, here’s my version of the take it or leave it non-apology. In my company I make the decisions and I expect everyone to do what I tell them—’
‘You must be such fun to work for.’
‘I’m a generous and caring employer—’
‘And maybe just a little bit of a control freak?’
‘On the contrary. I welcome the involvement of my staff, I leave them to run their own departments—which is why I didn’t know about the wedding—and people stay with me because I’m successful.’
‘Yes?’ she prompted, since he seemed to have forgotten the apology bit.
‘But in the future I’ll do my best to remember that you don’t work for me.’
‘In other words, you’ll have a full and frank discussion with me before you start rearranging my life? Even if it means waking me up.’
‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.’
‘No? I can see why you’re so at home here, Gideon.’
‘Go on,’ he said, ‘give me all you’ve got.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s obvious. A leopard can never change his spots.’
She’d expected him to come back with a smart answer, but he didn’t say anything.
‘Gideon?’ she prompted after what seemed like an age.
‘Yes,’ he said, obviously coming back from somewhere deep inside his head. ‘I have no doubt that you’ve hit the nail firmly on the head.’
What? She turned to look at him. He too was staring up at the ceiling but, sensing her move, he turned to look at her. Smiled. Not the slow killer smile that melted her inside. It was superficial, lying on the surface, a mask…
‘Now we’ve got all that out of the way, are we going to be room mates?’ he asked. ‘Or, since it’s too late
