old friend was quite right. It would suit her down to the ground to have a tenant straight away. Especially since, having budgeted as best she could, the bills for doing up her house in Lansdowne Gardens were becoming astronomical. Not to mention the enormous amount of hassle from her parents, who’d both thoroughly disapproved of her plans of converting the large, derelict house which had so unexpectedly been left to her by her great-aunt Jane.
‘Think of a number—and then double it,’ had been her father’s grim warning. And, while she’d have died rather than admit the truth, he’d unfortunately been quite right. So, maybe immediately finding a tenant for her newly designed second-floor apartment might not be such a bad idea, after all?
Besides, if this man was really as rich and as desperate for a roof over his head as Sophie seemed to think he was, she might be able to charge a high rent for the next six months. All of which would help her depleted finances more than somewhat.
‘Well…I might be prepared to consider this man,’ Harriet told her friend. ‘But I’m going to need some very good references—and an iron-clad contract.’
‘No problem,’ Sophie assured her quickly. ‘I can guarantee to arrange a good contract for you. And, as far as I can see, references won’t be a problem, since this guy seems to know practically everyone.’
‘So do most con men!’ Harriet murmured dryly. ‘By the way—what’s his name? And what does he do for a living?’
Sophie shrugged. ‘I did take his card—but I seem to have left it at home. To be truthful—’ she grinned ‘—I was so gobsmacked when he strolled into the office today that it took me some time to come down to earth! But I know he’s something to do with this film company.’ She waved her hand around the room. ‘So I guess that he’s probably some sort of producer.’
Harriet shrugged. ‘OK, I’m willing to meet him. But I’m not promising anything,’ she added warningly as Sophie gave her a wide, beaming smile. ‘And if he turns out to be a scriptwriter—you can forget the whole idea. Because absolutely the last thing I need is someone who works from home, cluttering up the house all day.’
‘I’m sure there won’t be a problem. And besides,’ Sophie laughed, ‘you won’t see too much of him—I’ll see to that!’
‘I just bet you will!’ Harriet grinned, gazing down at her friend. Small, dark and bubbly, Sophie never had any problem in attracting men. Even now, despite looking slightly hungover and not too steady on her pins, there was no doubt that Sophie had bags of sex appeal.
Harriet gave a sigh of pure envy, before resolutely pulling herself together. ‘OK. I’m willing to talk to this man. But until I’ve met him that’s as far as I’m prepared to go.’
‘Just wait till you see this guy. You won’t be able to believe your eyes!’ her friend told her, before leading the way through the tightly packed throng of people towards a group on the other side of the room.
Sophie was quite right.
Harriet simply could not believe her eyes—or her bad luck—as she watched the other girl breaking into a circle of women surrounding the tall, dark man in the corner, whom she’d viewed across the room earlier in the evening.
‘Here we are!’ Sophie trilled, deftly elbowing a small blonde out of the way as she grabbed hold of the man’s arm, dragging him out of the crowd towards Harriet, who was standing rooted to the spot, almost paralysed with shock and dismay.
‘I just know that you two lovely people are going to get on like a house on fire!’ her friend continued, blissfully unaware of a highly embarrassed flush spreading over Harriet’s cheeks, or the sudden stiffening of the man’s tall figure.
‘Let me introduce you. This is my friend Harriet Wentworth, and—’
‘I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Miss Wentworth,’ he drawled sardonically. A tight-lipped, grim smile of amusement flickered over his handsome features as he viewed the dawning consternation in the tall, red-headed girl’s green eyes.
‘Oh, that’s good!’ Sophie burbled happily.
No, it isn’t—it’s a bloody disaster! Harriet wanted to scream out loud. Although, considering the horrendous amount of noisy laughter and shouting going on around them, no one would have taken any notice if she had suddenly started yelling her head off.
Life was just so damned unfair! Of all the men in London—why did it have to be this particular man who was now wanting to rent a flat in her house? she asked herself incredulously. But—as much as she wanted to tell him to get lost—she simply didn’t have enough nerve to cause a scene.
‘Well, actually…’ she began, desperately trying to pull herself together. ‘I’m sure that Mr…um…’ What was the guy’s name? ‘That Mr—’
‘My name is Finn Maclean,’ he interrupted curtly.
‘Oh, yes…er…sorry…’ she mumbled, suddenly hating both Sophie and this awful man for putting her in such a difficult position, and desperately wishing that she’d never—absolutely never—agreed to come to this awful party. ‘The fact is…’
‘The fact is, you apparently have a flat to let. And I need to rent one, almost immediately,’ he told her in a firm let’s-have-no-nonsense tone of voice, which immediately raised her hackles.
‘I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that Sophie has jumped the gun,’ she told him quickly. ‘I’ve only just got rid of the builders, and—’
Busily intent on explaining just why it was not possible for him to rent her new apartment, Harriet was startled to find herself abruptly cut off in mid-sentence, the man quickly grasping her arm and towing her determinedly towards the back of the room, before opening a door and issuing her into a dimly lit small office.
‘Now, just a minute!’ she protested, rubbing the top of her arm where he’d gripped her so fiercely.
‘I’m sorry. But we were hardly able to hear ourselves think—let alone hold a reasonable conversation,’ he said, perching himself down on the edge of a large partners desk and stretching his long legs out in front of him.
‘I’ve bought this new flat, in Holland Park,’ he continued, before explaining the problem he was likely to have with so many workmen, and his need for alternative accommodation for anything up to six months. ‘And so, when your friend told me that you’d completed the conversion of the second floor in your house, it seemed the perfect solution to my problem,’ he added with a warm, engaging smile.
While Harriet would normally admire a guy who was prepared to take decisive action in pursuit of his goal, she’d already had dealings with Finn Maclean—and it had not been a pleasant experience.
So, it was no good him trying to turn on the charm—which he clearly possessed in abundance. Or trying to smooth-talk her into allowing him to rent her flat, she told herself grimly. Because he was definitely not the sort of tenant she’d had in mind.
‘I’d be at work in the City all day—and I’m out quite a lot in the evenings,’ he was saying as she stared mulishly back at him, determined to stick to her guns. ‘So, most of the time you’d hardly know I was there.’
‘What do you do? I mean,’ she added quickly as he looked at her in surprise,
