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was a look calculated to insult, to put a rocket under the blood-pressure of any woman with half an ounce of spirit, and he raised a pair of well-marked brows, inviting her response, clearly expecting an explosion that would wreck any chance of her staying. No contract was that watertight.

      But he had no idea how much she needed this job. That despite her one slip from reality in his arms, she had three years of hard-won self-control to call upon.

      Kate Thornley refused Jay Warwick’s invitation to self-destruct and retaliated in kind, forcing herself to return the slow, assessing examination that he had subjected her to and making very sure he understood exactly what she was doing.

      She lacked his experience in these matters and therefore followed his example by beginning with his feet. They were large. Beautifully shod in hand-tooled leather, but at least a size eleven. His legs were long, and from the way the material stretched across his thighs, powerful. His hips and waist were temptingly lean and for a moment her gaze lingered, before almost reluctantly she allowed her gaze to continue over the widening chest to square, broad shoulders.

      Her impulsive challenge faltered as she reached the hard, uncompromising line of his jaw and his mouth twisted into a knowing smile. As she met his eyes, her mouth dried.

      ‘Jay? I thought I heard your car.’ The tap of an ebony cane across the brick courtyard and the swift scuff of paws announcing the arrival of Tisha Maynard and her rather scruffy little terrier smashed the threads of tension that had momentarily bound them like a web of finely spun glass. ‘I didn’t expect you until later, darling.’ She offered her cheek to be kissed. ‘I’m so glad you’ve introduced yourself to Miss Thornley.’ She turned to her. ‘Did you sleep well, Kate?’

      ‘Yes, thank you, Tisha,’ she said, conscious of Jay Warwick’s eyes burning into her. ‘My room is very comfortable.’

      ‘Well, if there’s anything you want, just ask.’ She turned back to her nephew. ‘I’ve managed to persuade Kate to come and run the new tearoom for us. She’s a wonderful cook and an excellent organiser. She cooked the last time you dined with me.’

      ‘I know. We—’ his gaze flickered over Kate ‘—bumped into one another. What new tearoom?’

      ‘In the conservatory. I would have told you before, but you’ve been so busy with your bid for the new radio station. Besides, you said not to bother you with the details.’

      ‘Miss Thornley is rather more than a detail. Surely you have more than enough staff?’

      ‘No one with Kate’s talent for organisation.’

      ‘I’m sure she has many talents,’ he said ambiguously. ‘What exactly is she going to organise here?’

      His aunt, apparently unaware that his conversation was being conducted on two levels, explained what Kate would be doing. ‘So you see, Jay, you needn’t worry about a thing.’

      ‘Of course not. Who drew up the contract?’ he asked, casually. ‘These things need to be done properly.’

      ‘My solicitor handled it quite as easily as yours could have done. Just because I’m old, it doesn’t mean I’m foolish, Jay.’

      His face softened slightly. ‘I never said you were foolish, Tisha…’ He did not go on, apparently unwilling to destroy her pleasure in her plans, but his aunt sensed his hesitation.

      ‘But?’ she demanded, a little testily. ‘I suppose you think you could have done it all a great deal better?’ Kate held her breath as for a heartbeat he seemed to weigh his own feelings against hurting his aunt.

      ‘Of course not.’ He avoided Kate’s eye. ‘You’re a clever woman and it’s a lovely idea.’

      Mollified, Tisha Maynard smiled at them both. ‘Why don’t you take Kate for a walk around the garden before breakfast, Jay? She’s full of plans.’

      ‘Is she?’ He glanced at her then. ‘Then a walk it will be. Come along…Kate. I can’t wait to hear just what you have in mind.’ He held out his hand, nothing in his manner to betray the warning in his eyes as they met hers. Reluctantly she surrendered her arm to him and he tucked it under his.

      The sun was higher. A blackbird was perched on the wall serenading them. Jay Warwick had given way in the face of his aunt’s eagerness for her plans, clearly unwilling to upset her by betraying his own displeasure. Everything should have been perfect. But that would have been too easy. She didn’t think he would be quite so gentle with her, and her heart was pounding furiously as she was insistently propelled along a path dissecting the formal gardens, closely flanked by the tall, dangerous figure of her nemesis.

      ‘There’s really no need to escort me, Mr Warwick,’ she said, finally breaking the silence. ‘I’m sure I can find my own way.’

      ‘I like to stretch my legs after a long drive.’ He glanced sideways at her. ‘I assure you I have no immediate plans to ravish you in the rhodedendrons.’

      ‘It never occurred to me that you would,’ she said. ‘Unless of course the one-to-a-bed rule only applies inside the hall?’

      ‘If you were considering putting it to the test, I would advise against it.’

      ‘You’re really quite safe, I promise,’ she said flippantly, firmly ignoring the thought that if he had been intent on ravishment, she wasn’t totally convinced that she would be able to resist him. It was infuriating.

      He stopped, and she was forced to do the same. He regarded her thoughtfully, gold glints sparking in the depths of velvet brown eyes. ‘Perhaps you should be more concerned for your own safety.’ Then, ignoring her sharp intake of breath, he regained possession of her elbow and continued to propel her down a broad gravel path flanked on either side by the black skeletal shapes of ancient standard roses. This was hardly the pleasant walk in the garden that she had envisaged when she set out first thing. She attempted to shake free. But his grip was deceptively firm. ‘I wouldn’t want you to think, Kate, that because I have decided not to interfere with Tisha’s plans I am happy about them.’

      ‘I did get the hint of a feeling that you weren’t too happy.’

      ‘I believed I had scotched this particular bee in her bonnet. Presumably that’s why she chose to go behind my back. She is a stubborn old woman and can’t bear not to get her way. Clearly things are too far advanced to stop without causing her a great deal of distress. So be it.’ He glanced at her. ‘How long have you been here?’

      ‘I arrived last night.’

      ‘I see. Then you have very little time. I hope your much-vaunted powers of organisation are more than myth, because the house is opening in less than two weeks.’

      ‘I know.’

      ‘Well, it will keep you fully occupied. Not that there are many opportunities to flirt with the dinner guests here.’

      Only the whiteness above her lip betrayed the effort it was taking Kate to keep her voice even, her expression bland. ‘Perhaps I can have your assurance that the dinner guests won’t flirt with me? Even those that live here?’

      For a moment she thought she had taken him by surprise but he recovered so quickly that she couldn’t be certain. ‘At Fullerton Hall, Kate, I make the rules.’

      She gave a little gasp. ‘I have a few of my own and top of the list concerns—’

      ‘You really are not in any position to dictate terms,’ he interrupted, ‘if there’s a no-break clause in your contract.’

      ‘Top of the list,’ she repeated, furiously, ‘concerns…’ This time there was no interruption, just the sudden certainty that she was about to make an utter fool of herself.

      ‘Well?’ he prompted, impatiently.

      ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Insisting that he promise not to kiss her in the kitchen, or anywhere else for that matter, might just put ideas

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