the dry wit he was probably feeling understandably low, she didn’t hesitate to smile. ‘You shouldn’t worry about not having much of an appetite. I’m sure it will return in a few days, when you’ve started to feel more comfortable about getting round on your crutches and are getting more sleep. Rest is one of the greatest healers, but in our fast-paced culture it’s too often overlooked.’
Hal’s golden eyes narrowed interestedly. ‘You sound as if you have some strong views on the subject?’
Laying her fork and spoon down on her plate, Kit took a few moments to mull over the remark. ‘Moving so fast puts a lot of strain and pressure on the body as well as on the mind.’ She sighed. ‘Sometimes we need to remind ourselves that we aren’t machines. We’re flesh and blood and bone, and an overload of stress and pressure can tip us over the edge as well as cause accidents.’
‘Then I take it you definitely wouldn’t approve of someone who regularly pushes their body to the max in the pursuit of being the best he can in any sport or activity he participates in?’
‘I presume you’re talking about yourself?’ Her gaze met his arresting hazel eyes and she saw his pupils flare teasingly.
‘Yes, I am,’ he confirmed, smiling. ‘I put my heart and soul into everything I do...and I mean everything.’
Kit’s body tightened at his emphasis and a distinct buzz of sensual heat sizzled through her. The strong reaction took her aback and caused her to feel unsettled for a moment. Willing back her composure—because in all likelihood it was second nature for a man like Hal to tease women and get them flustered—she reached for her fork with a matter-of-fact air and curled some linguine round it. The man was on a hiding to nothing if he thought to unhinge her with sexual innuendos to inflate his ego, she thought. He’d soon come to learn that she was immune.
‘I’m sure that’s commendable,’ she commented, ‘but it can also be dangerous when a desire to be competitive becomes the driving force in everything you do. Wasn’t that how you came to have your accident in the first place?’
The teasing smile completely vanished from her companion’s handsome face. ‘I suppose you read that in the newspapers?’ Plucking his linen napkin from where he’d laid it across his lap, Hal threw it down on the table in disgust and scowled. ‘Newspaper reporters aren’t exactly known for telling the truth, you know.’
‘Was that a fabrication, then? That you were racing a business rival on a ski slope that’s considered to be one of the most extreme terrains in the mountains?’
‘You know what, Kit Blessington? If you ever think about a change of career you ought to consider becoming a public prosecutor. You certainly don’t take any prisoners.’
Directly meeting his irritated glance, Kit shrugged. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I would hate to be responsible for condemning anyone...whether I was paid to do it or not. And although I don’t think of what I do as a career, exactly, I’m quite happy earning my living at it and endeavouring to deliver a good service.’
Hearing the heavy sigh Hal emitted following her statement, she thought she’d better rein in her propensity to call a spade a spade before she talked herself out of a job. Antagonising a man who was already struggling to come to terms with an injury that severely restricted his usual activities was really not a good idea.
‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you with my opinions,’ she said quickly. ‘I have no desire to upset you. I suppose I just get a little passionate about the things that I believe are right.’
‘Everyone is entitled to their views, and being passionate isn’t a crime.’
There was the briefest suggestion of a smile on his beautifully carved lips and Kit was reassured.
‘In my book being passionate just means that you care,’ Henry continued, ‘Which is why I take the risks I do in my work and in the sports that I love. And besides, it’s in the male DNA to be competitive...survival of the fittest and all that.’
Unable to curb the impulse, she leaned towards him. ‘I hear what you’re saying, but don’t you get tired of having to conform to that ethos all the time?’
Rolling his eyes, Hal grimaced. ‘Right now I don’t exactly have much choice, do I?’
‘I tell you what...’ Rising to her feet, Kit had a sudden brainwave. ‘Why don’t I make us a pot of coffee and I’ll cut you a slice of home-made fruitcake to go with it? I know you didn’t feel much like eating your dinner, but that could be dessert.’
‘We’ve got home-made fruitcake?’ His previously glum expression was transformed by the most beguiling boyish grin she had ever seen.
Crossing her arms over her mint-green sweater, she couldn’t help smiling back. ‘I brought it with me from home. I made it last night. When I rang the agency to confirm that I’d got the job the manager told me that it was one of your favourites.’
‘Sam probably tipped her off. She knows I’ve a real weakness for cake...particularly fruitcake.’
‘Well, then, why don’t you just sit and relax and I’ll go and get you some?’
‘Don’t forget the coffee.’
‘I won’t.’
* * *
As Hal lingered over his coffee Kit disappeared into the kitchen to stack the dishwasher. With a contented sigh he stretched out his long legs on the couch and winced as familiar intermittent pain shot down his calf. For once he didn’t allow it to destroy his equilibrium. In truth, he regretted not making a better effort with the aromatic pasta Kit had cooked, but he’d immensely enjoyed the fruitcake she’d made. It was probably one of the best cakes he’d ever eaten. One thing was certain: if that was an example of her attention to detail on behalf of the people she worked for then she couldn’t be faulted.
Utilising the remote device by his side, Hal turned up the volume on the soothing music he was listening to. If he could just learn to curtail the impatience and restlessness that had plagued him since the accident had immobilised him then perhaps he could start to enjoy the enforced rest that he was faced with? It had literally been years since he’d had some proper respite. Most days he lived his life as though he were in a race to get to the finish line first.
In a bid to divert the less than comfortable realisation, he returned his thoughts to Kit. There was something about the feisty redhead’s presence that was undeniably reassuring. What had helped her become so capable and pragmatic? He was curious to know. Maybe over the next few days he would try to draw her out and get to know her a little? The women in his life had always bemoaned the fact that Hal didn’t give them enough of his time and attention—be they the girlfriends he’d had or his sister Sam—because he was inevitably obsessed with work and also the high-octane sports activities he favoured. If he made it a bit of a project to find out more about Kit’s background by conversing with her and really listening to what she had to say then it might help him learn how to improve his relationships with women in the future. At any rate, it was worth a try. Seeing as though all his usual distractions were denied him because of his injury, why not just embrace what was available instead?
Another knifing pain shot through his leg, but it was mostly concentrated on the muscles in his knee that had been damaged. Just as he reached down to massage it the door opened and Kit returned. As if intuiting he was in some discomfort, she came straight over
