her spine, she hurried out of the greenhouse, not pausing to glance back even once before reaching the steps of the main house.
‘Come in and be quick about it!’
Her spine knotting with tension and her palms prickly with heat, Liadan pushed open the door of the study and entered the room with the tray of sandwiches and coffee she had brought for Adrian’s lunch. If she’d hoped that the five-star breakfast she’d served him this morning had mellowed his mood, then she was obviously going to be disappointed judging by the scowl on his face. She’d taken such care with the sandwiches she’d made, too, cutting the bread into perfect triangles and decorating them with sprigs of parsley and slices of tomato. But he barely acknowledged her presence, too preoccupied with the papers strewn across his writing table, his black hair obviously ruffled by his restless fingers as he worked. ‘Leave the tray on the piano,’ he barked, and continued to work as though she were already gone.
Was she so wrong to expect some common courtesies from him, such as please and thank you? Liadan didn’t think so. It seriously bothered her that he seemed to imagine that he was somehow outside the realms of what was considered polite for everyone else. But even though she was deeply annoyed by his ill manners, she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t aware of the distinct chill in the air and it wasn’t just Adrian’s icy demeanour that was the cause. The fire had all but gone out, leaving just the barest red glow in its dying embers. In all conscience, Liadan couldn’t walk away without doing something about it.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Adrian snapped as she swept past his chair instead of heading for the door.
‘I thought I’d fix the fire. It’s nearly out and it’s chilly in here. I’ll try not to disturb you.’
Didn’t she know that that was impossible? Adrian thought with profound irritation. She was wearing that fragrance again, the one that seemed to wind itself round his senses and interrupt his train of thought like some kind of confounded will-o’-the-wisp. It seemed to mock and tease him, and tempt him to become far more aware than was wise of the woman who wore it. As if compelled, he lifted his gaze helplessly to her hair, noting the soft but precarious bun she’d fashioned, with a few silky red-gold tendrils floating loose to frame her lovely face. She really had the prettiest cornflower-blue eyes he’d ever seen, Adrian realised. What had he been thinking of, hiring such a looker for his housekeeper? He’d told himself hiring her had been the path of least resistance—Kate was leaving and he couldn’t interrupt his work to ring round agencies to find other people to interview. She’d said she was hardworking and for some reason Adrian had believed her. She didn’t look the type whose lips would lie easily. But now he couldn’t help wondering if he’d made a serious mistake in taking her on.
It had been four and a half years since his disastrous short-lived affair with Petra Collins—the one that had hit the tabloid headlines and hastened his decision to retreat from the world for a while. But clearly, if the way his libido was acting up around Liadan was any indication, he had been without a woman for too long.
‘Leave it.’
‘Why?’ Her heart racing, because suddenly she seemed to have his full and disturbing attention and she was ill-prepared for it, Liadan came to an abrupt standstill.
‘Because I’m working and I don’t want to be disturbed any more than is strictly necessary! I can’t have you clattering about in here while I’m trying to concentrate.’
‘Clattering about?’ Her cheeks growing pinker by the second as indignation cramped her throat, Liadan stared. ‘I was concerned for your comfort, that’s all. I wasn’t trying to make a nuisance of myself. Have you any idea what the temperature is outside?’
‘When I want a weather report I’ll switch on the news.’
Tearing her gaze from his stony expression, Liadan headed straight for the double doors, her heart pounding so hard inside her chest that for a moment she was hardly aware of where she was, let alone her destination. ‘Fine!’ she burst out before she left. ‘Freeze to death for all I care!’
Back in the kitchen, her appetite gone, she pushed away the small decorative sideplate with her sandwiches on to stare miserably down at the small bumps and grooves on the big pine table, willing herself to calm down. Just who did he think he was, speaking to her like that? They weren’t back in the Middle Ages as far as she knew and she wasn’t some serf to be bossed about at will, as if her life were not her own! It would serve him right if she walked out right this minute. See how he would cope if he had to do his own cooking and cleaning and make up fires! If there were any justice in the world he’d starve and get hypothermia very quickly…
She took her frustration out on the table and thumped it. Why did she have to recall just then that Michael had disliked it immensely when she lost her temper? It had pointed to a wild nature, in his opinion, one that he wasn’t altogether certain he could handle. Liadan groaned. Michael had been wary of anything emotional that might tip the precarious balance of an existence where order and restraint were paramount, so obviously losing one’s temper was a complete no-no. When he’d finally admitted he couldn’t commit to Liadan because his faith was calling him in another direction, one that she couldn’t be a part of, she’d been relieved but angry too. She’d long realised that the relationship hadn’t been going anywhere but she’d stupidly put her own life on hold for eighteen months while Michael had wrestled with his own decisions about the future.
And then two months after the break-up—to add insult to injury—Liadan had learned that she no longer had a job because her employer had gone bankrupt. Now it looked as if she’d be unemployed again very soon…
‘Liadan.’
Glancing up at her name, she rested her wary gaze on Adrian’s tall, imposing figure in the doorway.
‘What?’ She steeled herself to hear the worst. Without a doubt he was going to give her her marching orders. The only consolation was that she would see her cat sooner than she’d anticipated and be able to make a fuss of her tonight. Oh, well…‘always look for the gift,’ as Jennie, the owner of Moonbeams, had wisely counselled on more than one occasion.
‘I’d be grateful if you’d come back into the study and make up the fire. You’re right. It’s bloody cold in there and even I can’t type with frozen fingers.’ He was smiling and suddenly Liadan found her breathing and her power of speech seriously impeded. Having the power of that smile trained on her was like diving for seashells and coming up with diamonds. Did the man have any idea how much that simple act humanised him? It made him seem much less like the coldly distant character she was getting used to and so much…dared she say it? Warmer.
‘You’re not going to fire me?’
‘Now why would you think that?’ Apparently bemused, Adrian leant his shoulder against the doorjamb as if the imperative to get back to work was no longer relevant.
‘Because I lost my temper.’ She heaved a sigh and Adrian’s already engaged glance was drawn to the shapely swell of her breasts beneath her black ribbed sweater. Because her waist was so small, it highlighted her well-endowed chest, and, before he knew what he was about, Adrian imagined those same shapely breasts filling his palms. He imagined his thumbs brushing sensuously across her nipples, urging them to tight, hard, sexy peaks, and suddenly his vivid daydreaming led him into deep hot water when he found himself irrevocably and heavily aroused.
‘As far as I’m aware that’s hardly a sacking offence—particularly when I provoked it.’ His desire had made his voice unwittingly smoky.
Unable
