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      ‘I don’t like the idea of leaving you here under the influence of drugs.’

      Angry colour flamed in her cheeks. ‘So now I’m a drug addict?’ she demanded in an exasperated voice. ‘First I’m a hooker, and now I’m a drug-addict!’

      Lucas’s mouth tightened. ‘I wasn’t——’

      ‘Two prescribed pills do not make me an addict!’ Her voice rose shrilly as she finally began to crack under the strain. ‘I just need something to relax me a little. God, my mother only died three days ago!’

      ‘I know, Chelsea. I know.’ He walked over to clasp her shoulders, looking down at her with sympathetic eyes. ‘But I think a brandy might have the same effect.’

      ‘Aren’t you frightened I might become an alcoholic?’ she asked tautly.

      His face darkened. ‘Chelsea——’

      ‘I just want to go to sleep, can’t you understand that?’ Tears blinded her as she looked up at him. ‘I need to sleep. That way I don’t have to remember,’ her voice broke.

      Lucas’s hands tightened painfully on her shoulders before he pulled her firmly into his arms, cradling her body against the firmness of his. ‘I’m sorry.’ He stroked her silvery hair. ‘I think this has all been more of a shock to me than I realised.’

      She bent her head back to look at him. ‘You?’ she frowned, blinking back the tears, unable to see this man as anything but completely controlled.

      ‘I cared for your mother too,’ he bit out tautly.

      Her mouth twisted. ‘Don’t tell me you were seeing her secretly, too?’

      Lucas released her abruptly, stepping back. ‘None of my visits to Jace were made in secret. And I hadn’t seen your mother for several years, to answer your question. Although that doesn’t mean I can’t feel saddened by her death.’

      It was a verbal rebuke, and yet Chelsea couldn’t apologise for what she had said. It wasn’t like Jace not to tell her things, and he hadn’t mentioned Lucas McAdams since they left England seven years ago.

      She nodded abruptly. ‘I’ll just get my coffee and go back to my room.’

      ‘Chelsea …’

      Her face was expressionless as she looked at him. ‘Yes?’

      Whatever he had been about to say he changed his mind, his mouth firming into a thin line as his gaze raked over her mercilessly. ‘If we’re going to be living in close proximity for some time then I suggest we establish a few ground rules,’ he told her tautly.

      She stiffened expectantly. ‘Yes?’

      ‘In the first place I would suggest that we respect each other’s privacy.’

      Colour heightened her cheeks at the rebuke. ‘And secondly?’ she prompted abruptly.

      ‘Secondly, I would appreciate your wearing a little more than you have on now outside the privacy of your bedroom,’ he bit out harshly.

      The colour deepened in her cheeks, making her look very young. ‘I’m perfectly respectable,’ she defended.

      ‘I didn’t say you weren’t,’ he dismissed. ‘And you are far from the first woman I’ve seen partially, or indeed fully, unclothed. I just happen to think it would make things a little more—acceptable.’

      ‘To whom?’

      ‘To anyone who cares to be interested,’ he came back irritably.

      She was too tired to remind him that only minutes ago he had claimed that he didn’t have to justify his actions to anyone; it was his apartment, he had the right to make any rules about their living together that he cared to. ‘I can accept that,’ she shrugged, sure this man was too ‘proper’ to leave his own bedroom without sufficient clothing, even when he was alone here. It seemed incredible that he was the man she had found so exciting in her pre-teen years; he now appeared too staid and respectable for such an interest, despite his good looks.

      ‘Good,’ he bit out. ‘Then I suggest you get your coffee and go to bed.’

      She hadn’t been spoken to in this condescending manner since she was a child—if then! Her parents had always treated her like a person in her own right, even to the extent of fully examining her feelings on the subject before they decided to get a divorce. Lucas treated her as if she didn’t have a brain of her own.

      Nevertheless, she made no demur, too tired and worn at this moment to argue her maturity. When the shock of her mother’s death receded a little it would be a different matter!

      Lucas had gone from the lounge when she returned from the kitchen, and she could only assume he had gone to his own room to prepare for his date with Jennifer. She couldn’t help wondering about the other woman. A mature woman of thirty-two, Lucas had called her on the telephone. Was that all he wanted in his arms, maturity? Chelsea didn’t doubt Jennifer would be beautiful, and that she would also be sophisticated enough to conduct an affair with Lucas, because the relationship was obviously a physical one. But would she be nice, warm, or would she possess that remoteness that made Lucas so alien to those about him, made him seem removed? Probably the two of them would never meet, although Jennifer sounded as if she would like to see her.

      ‘I forgot to give you the brandy——’ Lucas broke off awkwardly as he entered her bedroom without knocking, his mouth tightening disapprovingly as her unbelted robe showed she wore nothing beneath it. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said abruptly. ‘I had no idea … I thought you would be in bed,’ he rasped, his jaw rigid.

      ‘I just cleaned my teeth.’ She handled the situation so much more calmly than he, retying the belt on her robe with hands that shook only slightly. And that wasn’t just because for a moment, a very brief moment, she had seen acknowledgment of her as a woman in the dark brown depths of his eyes; his own appearance was much more devastating. The black evening suit and snowy white shirt made him appear taller and broader than ever, and so handsome he took her breath away.

      ‘I see,’ he harshly acknowledged her statement. ‘I forgot to give you the brandy.’ He held up a glass with about an inch measure in it. ‘This should help you sleep.’

      Her eyes widened. ‘That much should knock me out!’ she derided. ‘Believe it or not, I rarely, if ever, touch alcohol.’

      His expression darkened. ‘Chelsea——’

      ‘Thank you for the brandy,’ she hastily interrupted the reprimand she had invited by her mockery. ‘I’ll drink it in a moment.’

      ‘You haven’t taken the tablets yet?’

      Her mouth tightened; did he think she was completely stupid! ‘No.’

      ‘Good,’ he nodded curtly, holding out the glass to her with a long, lean hand.

      Chelsea took it with unsteady fingers, feeling angered by this further display of arrogant authority, wishing Jace had never sent her here, although understanding the reason that he had. But that didn’t make Lucas’s behaviour any easier to bear. ‘Thanks,’ she told him abruptly. ‘And I think perhaps we ought to establish another ground rule.’ Her head was back defiantly, ‘I won’t walk into your bedroom without first knocking if you won’t walk into mine.’

      A dark hue coloured his lean cheeks. ‘I wasn’t thinking when I did that, it won’t happen again.’

      She instantly felt contrite for being rude when he had offered her his hospitality. ‘I’m sorry,’ she sighed. ‘It seems Jace has put us both in an awkward position by imposing on you in this way.’

      ‘When you’re family it isn’t an imposition,’ he replied in a preoccupied voice.

      ‘Family …?’ she frowned. ‘I would hardly say your friendship with Jace makes me that.’

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