on the bed in a pair of faded jeans and an old T-shirt with his computer on his stomach. He snapped it shut and eased himself off the bed.
‘I was beginning to think about breaking the door down to make sure you hadn’t drowned in the bath...’
Caught on the back foot, Sunny could only stare. He looked so effortlessly elegant. The low-slung jeans did amazing things for his physique and the T-shirt clung in a way that showed off the muscled strength of his arms. And he was barefoot. She hurriedly looked away.
‘I’m sorry about that,’ Sunny said stiffly. She eyed the open door and headed towards it. ‘Perhaps—’ she cleared her throat ‘—I might have a quick word with you.’
‘I’m surprised you haven’t asked me why I’m back so early. Did you start floundering because you weren’t expecting to see me?’
‘I...’ They began trotting down the stairs, she quickly, he taking his time but still keeping pace.
‘Because I wouldn’t like you being so nervous in my presence that it becomes life-threatening.’
Sunny rounded on him, arms folded. ‘Are you laughing at me?’
‘How is it that you’ve never had swimming lessons?’
‘I... I...’ She went red and looked away. ‘Where’s Flora?’
‘Happily ensconced in front of the television in the sitting room. I told her you would probably need a little time to gather yourself after your skirmish in the pool. I thought that swimming lessons were compulsory for all schoolchildren...’
‘They probably are!’
‘Did you have an early aversion to water?’
Sunny glared. ‘I would have loved to have had swimming lessons,’ she gritted. ‘But that never happened to me.’ She spun on her heel, heart beating wildly inside her and made for the kitchen. She would have to hand in her notice. How could she not? What sort of babysitter ended up having to be rescued from a dangerous situation by the young child she was in charge of babysitting? He would never trust her around his daughter again.
And maybe that was for the best, she thought. He did weird things to her, things she didn’t like, and if he wasn’t around then life would get back to normal without that jumpy, sickening feeling inside her that she’d been carrying around for days.
And maybe, she further thought, she could address some of his curiosity about her. Curiosity about why she spent all her time working, why she needed money so badly, why she’d never learned how to swim...
Maybe it would be a good thing for those glaring differences between them to be brought out into the open. The way she’d been brought up was something that had been out of her control but maybe vocalising it would be a timely reminder to her of the idiocy of harbouring delusional fantasies about him. It would also kill off his curiosity stone-dead because he certainly wouldn’t keep prying for extraneous information when he knew that he might be provided with information that would make him feel uncomfortable. Rich people always, but always, felt uncomfortable when they were treated to tales of hardship, poverty or despair.
But mostly, if her body kept ignoring the fact that he was from a different world, then wasn’t it time that her head took control?
‘I just want to say...’ She turned to him the minute they were in the kitchen, making sure to keep her voice low just in case Flora decided that the television programme she was watching wasn’t as much fun as seeking out her nearly drowned babysitter, to whom she’d been giving swimming lessons. ‘I just want to say,’ she repeated, ‘that I’m handing in my resignation.’ She tried a laugh. ‘It goes down as the shortest job in history.’
‘What are you talking about? Why are you handing in your resignation?’ She’d washed her hair but already the late-afternoon heat was drying it, throwing blonde strands in stark relief. It hung down her back, almost to her waist. And she didn’t wear make-up. He had never known a woman who didn’t lather on the war-paint the second she was out of the bath. But her skin was satiny-smooth and clear. His gaze lingered on her ripe, full lips and he looked away because he could already feel his body stirring into life. Once again. Just as it had when he’d been holding her, wet and trembling, against him and as light as a feather despite the fact that she was tall.
He’d had a battle not to stare at the plump thrust of her breasts under the bikini top, not to get trapped by the sight of that tightened nipple poking against the wet cloth. She had been utterly unaware of just how revealing the swimsuit was and, thankfully, just as utterly unaware of the effect it had been having on him.
It seemed his body had decided to raise two fingers to common sense. He’d never had to deal with self-denial and he was finding it difficult.
He wondered whether his mother would have been amused by the fact that the woman she had done her best to set him up with had left him cold while the office junior was sending his blood pressure into the stratosphere.
The difficult, stubborn office junior whom he’d had to cajole into this job. The job she was now talking about ditching.
‘Because I think it’s safe to say that I failed.’ She looked away quickly. ‘You didn’t pay me to...to...’
‘Endanger your life?’
‘I should never have gone anywhere near that swimming pool considering I can barely doggy-paddle from one side to the next.’
‘You’re good for Flora and I wouldn’t dream of accepting your resignation.’ And that, he reminded himself heavily, was why he couldn’t do what he wanted to do. She was good for Flora and, in turn, that was proving to be good for his relationship with his daughter and he wasn’t going to risk fooling around with that...
‘You don’t have to say that,’ Sunny said fiercely.
‘You’re right. I don’t. So why don’t you just take me at my word?’ He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up to pour them both some water. ‘You’ve probably had enough of this stuff for the day. Want something stronger?’
‘This is fine. But you don’t pay me to get myself in situations where I need rescuing.’
‘I haven’t rescued a damsel in distress for a while. Maybe it was time that I brushed up on the skill.’ He looked at her over the rim of the glass and was surprised at how vulnerable she seemed. Scratch a little under the surface and it was easy to reach the person who didn’t spend her every waking moment doing her job and keeping the world at bay.
Was that why he found her so intensely appealing? She made him feel young again for reasons he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He was thirty-one and most of the time he felt much older. But something about her...
Was it the same thing that appealed to his daughter?
He fought to stop the senseless speculation.
‘I don’t need rescuing,’ she heard herself say. ‘And I’ve never been a damsel in distress. In fact, I disapprove of all those limp women who think that they need rescuing by some big, strong guy...’
‘Is that your way of telling me that you think I’m big and strong?’ He caught her eye, raised his eyebrows and grinned crookedly, unable to help himself.
