Passionate Playboys: The Demetrios Bridal Bargain / The Magnate's Indecent Proposal / Hot Nights with a Playboy

It looked pretty much as if her travels had at some point taken her to Mathieu Gauthier’s bedroom.

‘It’s gone quiet back there. Could it be your amnesia has been cured? Is it all coming back?’ he suggested in a silky sneery voice that made Rose fantasise about wiping the superior smirk off his face.

‘For your information …’ She stopped the words playing in her mind—the tramp in your bed wasn’t me, it was my twin sister.

It didn’t matter how much she wanted to squeeze an apology out of the awful man. Her loyalty to her twin was more important. It was the very least that Rebecca deserved.

It wasn’t as if it mattered one way or the other what Mathieu Demetrios or whatever he called himself these days thought of her.

She drew herself upright and, glaring at the back of his neck, shook her head, closing her mouth firmly on the retort. ‘I’ve never been to Monaco.’

‘Then you have a twin out there somewhere.’

Yes, I do, and I could give you her address, though I doubt her husband would be too happy about it. ‘If you say so,’ she agreed, shivering as she turned her head to look out of the window. ‘I don’t think the cottage hospital even has a casualty department.’

‘It’s a hospital. There will be a doctor.’ If there wasn’t it would have to be Inverness.

‘I’m fine and I’m late …’ She grabbed the door handle to steady herself as he took a corner clearly under the impression that he was still at the wheel of a formula-one car, not a battered Land Rover.

‘We’ll let the man who trained for six years decide if you’re fine, shall we?’

Rose pursed her lips and didn’t say another word. What was the point? He was clearly going to do what he wanted no matter what she said.

It turned out he was right, there was a doctor at the small community hospital—one of the local GPs who said they had done exactly the right thing when she related her story, apologising repeatedly for wasting his time.

When she returned to the waiting area a few minutes later she thought at first that her racing-driver rescuer had left … then just as some of the tension was leaving her spine he peeled himself away from a wall.

‘Oh, I didn’t see you in the shadow.’ The tension was back with a vengeance. She had never met anyone who aroused such feelings of antipathy by doing nothing more than drawing himself up to his full and admittedly impressive height. It was lucky really—if she’d liked him she’d have felt that in some irrational way she was being disloyal to her twin.

‘I said I’d wait.’ His brows drew together in a straight line when she shivered.

‘And I said it was not necessary. I’m quite capable of making my own way back.’

He arched a brow. ‘Dressed like that.’

He had a point, she conceded, glancing down. The sweater covered as much as a dress, but it was a bit short and quite drafty. As for the man-sized woollen walking socks he’d dug out of the boot when she’d refused point-blank to allow him to carry her over the gravelled forecourt—well, they weren’t exactly ideal footwear for public transport.

There was also the slight problem of her having no money.

She hated to be even more in his debt, but what choice did she have? ‘I’m sorry to put you out. I’m sure you have more important things you should be doing.’

‘Yes.’

Rose bit her lip. Clearly he was not into making people feel comfortable.

‘Sorry,’ she said again.

His lips quivered. The word was ‘sorry’ but the sentiment behind it was clearly ‘go to hell’. His eyes slid to her feet encased in an old pair of Jamie’s walking socks. To get there he had to move past her legs—they were very fine legs. They were the sort of legs a man could not look at without imagining himself between the soft, smooth thighs.

You passed, the voice in his head reminded him. It sounded disgusted and he could see why.

‘What did the doctor say?’ He found her more attractive in this weird get-up than he had that night in his hotel room. Did that, he wondered, make him twisted?

‘He said what I said all along, I’m fine. He also said I was lucky.’ She took a deep breath; not liking the man was no excuse for bad manners and he had risked his life to save her. ‘And I am, thanks to you.’

He looked at the hand she had extended to him for a moment, then, just when she thought he was going to ignore it, he reached out and clasped it in his.

Rose’s eyes flew wide and a small startled gasp escaped her parted lips before she could prevent it. She grunted something guarded and snatched her hand away. It was difficult to stay in denial about being wildly attracted to someone when you had a reaction like that to a simple handshake. She swallowed as she wondered about the electrical thrill that had shot through her body.

Did he feel it too?

She pushed aside the thought, ran her tongue over her dry lips and, still not looking at him, directed her words to the wall over his left shoulder. ‘I really need to get back,’ she said, her voice cracking with nerves.

He bowed his dark head slightly in acknowledgement of her request. ‘Dornie House, you said …?’ His eyes narrowed in concentration as he sketched a mental map of the area. If it was the place he thought he could stop by the estate and reassure Jamie that he hadn’t dropped off the face of the earth.

‘That’s right.’

‘The place off the Inverness road?’

‘I think so.’ She lifted a hand to her head.

As Mathieu watched the intensely weary gesture he was startled to feel his protective instincts stirring. He reminded himself who and what this woman was, but found it hard to reconcile the predatory man-eater of his memory with this exhausted and white-faced figure who had just narrowly escaped death … and there hadn’t been a single tear.

You had to admire that. Whatever she was, she had guts.

‘You walked a long way this morning. Come on.’ She had to be tired because she didn’t object when he placed a light guiding hand on her arm.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘YOUR adrenaline levels are dropping,’ Mathieu said, studying Rose’s pale face with an expert eye. ‘The delayed shock is kicking in,’ he explained as he waited for her to swing her legs into the Land Rover before closing the passenger door. ‘Are you sure the doctor said you were OK to leave?’ he added when he slid into the driver’s seat beside her.

You had to wonder about the competence of someone who sent a woman who looked ready to collapse home.

Rose nodded, but did not mention that the medic had only released her on the understanding she had someone to take care of her once she got home.

Home.it was ironic, after she had had such a fight to leave, that she had been suffering dreadfully from homesickness ever since she had arrived.

She knew it would pass, but at that moment she was feeling it particularly acutely. So acutely that she had to clamp her teeth into her lower lip to stop it trembling. The idea of showing that sort of weakness before this man horrified her.

‘Have you moved here or are you visiting?’

With anyone else she would have suspected they were making conversation to give her time to compose herself. She lifted a hand to blot the moisture at the corner of one eye and sniffed. ‘I’m working. I’m cataloguing Mr Smith’s book collection.’

‘You’re cataloguing books?’ He doubted she could have given a reply that would have surprised him more.

‘Yes, when I’m not seducing men in their hotel rooms I’m a trained librarian.’

‘Librarian?’ He gave a sudden bark of laughter that brought a militant light to her amber eyes.

‘What’s so funny?’

He slid her a quick sideways glance. ‘Well, you must admit it’s not … well, a person doesn’t look at you and think …’ He turned his head again, the sweep of his eyes this time slow and sensual. Facing the road again, he grinned and shook his head. ‘Well, he doesn’t think librarian, ma petite.’

Why did French sound sexy even when a person was being sarcastic? And he must have been because nobody would call her his little one and be serious. ‘You appear to have a very stereotypical image of a librarian, Mr Demetrios.’ Did he make love in that language too?

Well, you’re not going to find out, Rose, she told herself sternly. He threw Rebecca out of his bed and she’s the size eight sexy one.

Was Rebecca right when she claimed being sexy was a state of mind? If she had meant thinking about sex, then that might well make me the sexiest person on the planet just now, Rose thought, embarrassed by her sudden preoccupation with the subject.

Meeting this man was going to put her in therapy.

‘I won’t ask what you think I look like.’ Knowing what he thought she was was more than enough information.

‘I try as a rule not to judge a book by its cover, but then you know all about books, don’t you? You don’t mind if I just swing by the estate to let Jamie know what’s happened?’ Without waiting for her response he took a sharp left. The entrance gates they passed through were grand but the tree-lined driveway beyond was potholed.

Rose had been here long enough to know that the estate, or Castle Clachan given its correct title, was occupied by the laird, a pretty important person hereabouts. She supposed it figured that someone like Mathieu would be on first-name terms with the man.

‘You’re staying here?’

He nodded and negotiated a particularly deep pothole. ‘Jamie raced for a season.’

‘Was he injured?’

‘No, he just … you need … Jamie was a brilliant driver, but he lacked the … he wasn’t, I suppose, ruthless enough. Jamie,’ he explained, ‘is much nicer than me.’

‘An unnecessary explanation, I promise you.’

This drew a laugh from him. Rose couldn’t help but notice what an attractive laugh he had.

They drew up on the gravelled area in front of the house. Well, actually there wasn’t much gravel left, but there were a lot of weeds, though the house itself, a large sprawling Victorian pile in dressed stone, was impressive.

Mathieu seemed to read her thoughts. ‘The original one dated to the fifteenth century; it burnt down, I believe. You wait here. I’ll just let Jamie know … oh, there he is.’

Rose turned her head in time to see two men walk around the side of the house. One was tall, sandy-haired and, she assumed, the laird; the other was her employer. She began to struggle with the door handle. Now she knew why the car they had pulled up beside looked familiar.

Mathieu leaned across and caught her arm. ‘What are you doing?’

‘That’s Mr Smith,’ she said, drawing back into her seat as far as she could. ‘I’m cataloguing his books.’ Do not hyperventilate, Rose.

Mathieu turned his head. His mental image of Rose’s employer had made him a good twenty years older than the one talking to Jamie.

‘You live in?’

Rose nodded, puzzled by the odd inflection in his voice, but relieved she was no longer pressed into her seat by his arm. It didn’t even cross her mind that Mathieu might be wondering about the sleeping arrangements and if she had guessed she would have laughed. Robert Smith, despite the fact he was youngish and quite good-looking, was peculiarly sexless and a humourless cold fish to boot.

‘You stay there. I’ll explain what’s happened.’

Jamie greeted him with his usual hearty good humour. Though his expression sobered when Mathieu explained what had happened.

‘Lucky you were around, old mate.’

‘Yes, most fortunate,’ Robert Smith agreed. ‘But you say that Miss Hall is not hurt—the doctor gave her a clean bill of health?’

‘She’s shaken, obviously.’

‘I’m sure once she’s working she’ll forget all about it.’

‘Working?’

The other man flushed under the sardonic stare. ‘Well, I thought … I have a schedule and—’

‘She needs to rest.’

Robert Smith visibly recoiled from the blaze of fury in the other man’s eyes. ‘Oh, well, if that’s what the doctor recommends, of course I’ll make sure she—’

‘Robert,’ Jamie drawled, clapping the man on the back. ‘Why don’t you just toddle along in and look at those books? I left them on the hall table.’

The other man accepted the invitation with alacrity.

‘I’ll just go and speak to Miss Hall first.’

‘I think you scared him,’ Jamie said in an amused undertone as the other man began to walk towards the Land Rover.

‘I think the man,’ Mathieu said scornfully, ‘is an idiot.’

‘Yes, that came across,’ Jamie said drily. ‘Rich, though— made a bomb in the City and retired young. I thought I might sell off a few old books, seems he’s mad about them. So the girl … do I get an introduction?’ He glanced curiously towards the Land Rover. ‘Why don’t I ever get the opportunity to play the white knight to damsels in distress?’ he complained.

Mathieu’s glance followed the direction of Jamie’s stare. Rose, presumably at the suggestion of Smith, was getting out of the Land Rover. His brow furrowed as she nodded at the other man and began to walk towards them. ‘She’s changed a lot … since Monaco.’

Mathieu wasn’t even aware he had verbalised his thoughts until Jamie spoke.

‘You know her! My God, what are the odds on that?’ Jamie, his eyes widening in appreciation, gave a low whistle under his breath as Rose got closer. ‘Any chance of an intro, Matt?’

Mathieu flashed Jamie an irritated look. ‘I hardly know her.we met—’ he began, then stopped as Rose came within hearing distance. She stood there looking, despite her outlandish outfit and gloriously tousled hair, dignified and beautiful enough to offer some excuse for Jamie’s childish outburst.

‘Hello.’ Rose nodded towards Jamie, her smile dimming perceptively as her eyes reached Mathieu. ‘Mr Smith is giving me a lift back. I just wanted to thank you … again … for, well, saving my life,’ she said awkwardly. ‘And I’m sorry for putting you to so much trouble.’

‘Saving your life?’ Jamie interrupted, stepping forward, hand outstretched, to introduce himself. ‘Played that part down, Matt.’ He flashed his friend an amused sideways glance. ‘But then that’s our Matt all over, the modest hero.’

The modest hero in question looked uncomfortable and irritated and his grin broadened. ‘We’ve not met, though in a place this size it was only a matter of time. I’m Jamie.’

‘I know—the laird.’

‘For the present, but I’m hoping Matt here will do something brilliant and keep the bailiffs from the door.’

Rose found it hard to tell from his tone if he was joking or not, but what did come across was his confidence in Mathieu’s ability to pull off the odd miracle in his spare time. She found herself hoping that on this occasion Mathieu did so because it was hard not to warm to the young laird.

‘I’m Rose. If you’ll excuse me—’ she glanced expressively down at her clothes before extricating her hand and wrapping her arms around herself ‘—I’ll just go wait in the car. It’s warmer.’ Rose smiled once more before turning away.

‘I think she likes me,’ Jamie said under his breath as she walked back to the parked vehicle. ‘No so sure about you, though.’

‘So what books are you selling?’

It seemed for a moment that his change of subject might work, but, mid-description of a book, Jamie stopped and angled a sharp look at his friend. ‘Monaco …’

Mathieu shrugged and pretended ignorance.

‘You said you knew her in Monaco.’

‘It might have been.’

‘My God, it’s her, isn’t it? The blonde that got into your room the night of the embassy party.’

Mathieu, his expression schooled to neutrality, held his tongue, though he suspected rather too late in the day.

‘I take it that silence means yes.’ Jamie let out a long silent whistle followed by a cackle of laughter. ‘Someone who works for Smith doesn’t seem the type … she didn’t seem the type. Though, to be honest,’ he admitted rather regretfully, ‘I’ve not had a whole lot of experience of the sort of women who try and seduce men they’ve never met. Was she totally naked?’

Mathieu flashed him a flat look.

Jamie held up a pacifying hand. ‘All right, no need to implode.

You sure nothing happened? I mean, was there a frisson out there on the ice?’ Grinning, he raised a speculative brow.

Mathieu did not smile back. ‘You have an overactive imagination, Jamie,’ he said coolly.

This time Jamie did read the warning in the other man’s manner. ‘If you say so …’ he said in his easygoing way. ‘But I suppose you do know, Mathieu, that you’re one of the few men in the universe who would get mad about finding a naked beautiful blonde in his bed.’

‘I don’t like surprises, I suppose.’ His dark brows drew into a straight line above his hawkish nose. ‘I don’t know why I ever told you about it,’ he added, the exasperation in his voice aimed mostly at himself.

‘You didn’t have much choice after I heard you lambasting the hotel staff on their security,’ Jamie reminded him. ‘Weren’t you even slightly tempted to take what was on offer? I mean, the delicious Rose is pretty hot …’ His wistful sigh was accompanied by a lecherous grin.

It was a grin that Mathieu had a problem with.

His long fingers tightened until his knuckles turned white. His dark lashes came down in a veil as he took a deep breath that did little to reduce the angry pounding in his temples.

‘Do people here have nothing better to do than gossip?’ he asked coldly.

‘Not really,’ Jamie admitted. Then, oblivious to the fact his friend was fighting violent urges, he continued to speculate about the blonde.

‘I wonder if she’d like to come and catalogue my book collection after she finishes with Smith?’ His comic suggestive leer faded dramatically in the face of the flash of livid fury on his friend’s face.

It was at that moment that Robert Smith announced his presence by clearing his throat.

Both men turned in unison.

‘I’m afraid, James, that the books … well, they’re not quite what I’m looking for.’

Jamie took the news with a philosophical shrug. ‘Oh, well, not to worry.’

‘I have a friend who might be interested and I’ll mention them to him if you like? I’m afraid, though, they’re really not that valuable.’

‘I’ll buy them,’ Mathieu heard himself say.

Jamie looked as surprised by the offer as Mathieu felt. ‘You don’t know what they are,’ he pointed out.

‘I have a bookshelf to fill.’

‘Right, then, I’ll be off.’

Mathieu’s lip curled into a contemptuous smile. ‘The schedule?’ he suggested.

The other man struggled to smile back. ‘Just so … and thank you once more for helping Miss Hall.’

Mathieu watched, his eyes narrowed, as Smith got into the car beside Rose. ‘I don’t like that man.’

Jamie fought a grin. ‘And you hid it so well, Matt,’ he said, clapping a congratulatory hand on his friend’s arm. ‘As you’re on a roll with the saving-people thing … about my finances—is it hopeless?’

Seeing the real concern behind his friend’s levity, Mathieu dragged his thoughts from the unlikely librarian and back to his friend’s financial situation.

CHAPTER SIX

ALL the way over in the taxi Rose kept going over the morning’s scene in her head.

‘I’m afraid, Miss Hall, that I must let you go.’

Jaw clenched, Rose turned her head and stared out of the window not seeing the stunning Highland scenery, dusted that morning by a sprinkling of snow. She squeezed her eyes tight and shook her head. She hadn’t had an inkling of what was to come even after that opening, but then she hadn’t woken up expecting to receive her marching orders.

‘Let me go?’

‘I no longer think we can work together.’

‘You’re giving me the sack?’ She was too astonished to be angry … that presumably would come later—and it had. ‘But I don’t understand. The job is only half done. Have you some complaint about my work? Is this because I spent the rest of the day in bed yesterday, because I would have worked if—’

‘Your work has been adequate,’ Robert Smith conceded stiffly. ‘However, certain other matters have been brought to my attention.’

‘What matters?’

He started moving objects around his desk, not quite meeting her eyes. ‘I have given the matter some thought since yesterday.’ He gave a sigh and lifted his head. ‘And unfortunately I have concluded it would be quite unsuitable for a woman of your …’ He stopped, clearing his throat.

‘A woman of my what?’

Lips pursed, his eyes cold behind the horn-rimmed glasses as they slid from hers, he said, ‘This is a small community; there are no secrets. Your exploits, Rose, will soon be common knowledge.’

‘Exploits?’ Rose echoed, still in the dark.

‘The people here are old-fashioned and as an incomer I have to respect their values. I did have some concern initially about having such a young woman living here,’ he admitted, and Rose thought, God, does every man I meet think I’m out to ravish him? ‘But as you are well qualified I put my concerns to one side. Now, of course, that is out of the question given your dubious history …’

Rose laughed. She couldn’t help herself, the idea was so ludicrous. Then it hit her in a blinding flash. Her eyes narrowing, she asked in a dangerously calm voice, ‘Have you been talking to Mathieu Demetrios?’ So much for ‘your secret is safe with me’— he hadn’t been able to wait five minutes to spread his vile lies.

The worm! Not content with humiliating her personally, he had set out with what had to be deliberate malice to ruin her reputation, or, as it happened, Rebecca’s. What a sly, vindictive bastard. If she had ever needed confirmation on her decision not to reveal the case of mistaken identity, she had it.

All she stood to lose was her job and she had.

‘Of course, I will pay you until the end of the month.’

She would have been the first to advise anyone who found themselves in a similar situation to maintain a dignified silence, take the money that she was due and put the entire episode down to experience.

It was excellent advice, but Rose had found herself unable to refrain from telling her erstwhile employer that she wouldn’t touch his money with a bargepole, and he wasn’t likely to repeat the offer—not after she had been pretty frank when she had offered her opinion of him.

Rose asked the driver to wait, which was probably reckless considering her financial situation, but when she made her big exit she didn’t want to have it fall flat because she had to beg a lift to the station.

It was not a uniformed flunky who opened the vast oak-studded door, but Jamie MacGregor’s sister home for the school holiday. Her look of shock when she saw Rose morphed into a wary smile.

‘Oh, hi. I saw you yesterday. You might not have seen me,’ she added awkwardly.

Rose was too preoccupied to wonder at the teenager’s odd manner. ‘No, I didn’t.’

‘You work for Mr Smith.’

‘Not any more.’

‘Do you want Jamie?’

‘I want Mathieu.’

The young girl registered Rose’s gritted teeth, angry eyes and flushed teeth and gave a nervous giggle.

‘I’m afraid … the thing is I don’t think that …’

Rose cut across her. ‘I don’t give a damn if he’s busy or unavailable or anything else because I intend to see him whether he wants to see me or not.’

‘I, really, they’re—’

‘I want Mathieu.’

‘I am quite naturally flattered.’

‘You shouldn’t be,’ Rose snapped, tilting her head up to a combative angle to glare at the tall figure that had materialised at the girl’s shoulder.

She blinked as her gaze travelled up from his gleaming handmade leather shoes to his glossy head. This was the first time she had seen him dressed in anything so formal as a suit and tie. And not just any suit. She was no expert, but it was obvious even to Rose that the dark grey single-breasted number was no more off the peg than the body it covered, and she had to admit Mathieu looked nothing short of breathtakingly spectacular in it.