Irresistible Temptation

‘Bristol,’ she said stonily. ‘And I’m staying here.’ She clipped Humph’s lead to his collar. ‘I’d better take him home.’ She hesitated. ‘And I apologise for letting him chase the cat. Is it all right?’

‘Fighting fit. It was the Fosters’ Maximilian.’ He put out a hand and scratched the top of the little dog’s head. ‘If he ever turned on Humph he’d have him on toast. So take care, Miss Butler.’

‘Of Humph?’ Her voice was saccharine-sweet. ‘Of course I will.’

‘Of everything,’ he said. ‘And I’m sure you won’t.’

She turned and descended the steps, aware of his eyes boring into her spine. As she reached the path she looked back at him.

‘When Jeremy does come back, will you ask him to call me, please, on my mobile? He has my number.’

His mouth twisted. ‘I’ll refrain from the cheap retort. And, yes, I’ll tell him to make contact—if that’s really what you want.’

‘Yes,’ she said lifting her chin. ‘It is.’

He gave her one last cool look, then walked back into the house and closed the French windows behind him.

This, Olivia told an unresponsive pane of glass, is getting to be a habit. But at least this time she’d had the last word. Or had she? With Declan Malone it was difficult to be certain.

But she could ensure it was the last word in another sense, she thought as she walked away, Humph prancing beside her.

She could take immense care never to set eyes on Declan Malone again.

In a city the size of London, it shouldn’t be too hard.

And she’d begin by never straying to his side of the garden again, she vowed silently.

Declan was not in a good mood when he returned to his computer screen. Introducing the Butler girl to Sasha had been a bad mistake, he told himself savagely. What the hell had possessed him to do such a thing, instead of sending her away with a flea in her ear? Now she was ensconced just across the garden, and far too close for comfort.

He shook his head in exasperation, glaring at his notes on William Pitt the Younger, which now seemed stilted and totally without interest. Maybe in trying to breathe new life into these long-dead politicians he’d simply bitten off more than he could chew.

Or maybe that damned girl was sitting in his skull, distorting his thinking.

Oh, come on, he derided himself. She’s just a passing irritation, not a major problem. When Jeremy returned, he’d give him a sharp piece of his mind, and tell him to get rid of her or get out. And that would settle the matter.

Declan pressed ‘Save’ and deliberately switched his thoughts with far more satisfaction to last night’s dinner with Claudia.

She was lively, intelligent and extremely attractive, he reflected. And she’d let him know, albeit with charming subtlety, that she was also attracted to him.

Without conceit, he knew that he could probably have ended the evening in her bed. But he’d decided instead to slow the pace. Establish a relationship before taking the quantum leap into intimacy.

They’d talked about music and theatre over their meal. He’d give it a couple of days, then ask her if she’d like to go to the Ibsen revival that had been so well reviewed.

Claudia had admitted to liking cooking, so it was on the cards she’d offer to make dinner for him. And then they’d see …

He frowned swiftly. It all seemed rather measured—even calculating, perhaps—but what the hell? He was past expecting to be knocked flat by passion at first sight—the genuine coup de foudre that people sighed about.

On the other hand, he wanted to be sure that when he married his marriage would last, and not fall into the kind of disarray he saw all around him.

Like Maria and Jeremy, he thought grimly, and cursed under his breath as the Butler girl invaded his mind’s eye again.

I should have sent her packing, he told himself, restively. So why didn’t I? And what can I do to salvage the situation?

He swung his chair round and picked up the phone, punching in a familiar number.

‘Maria?’ His face relaxed into a smile. ‘So, how’s it going?’

As evening approached Olivia was on tenterhooks, pacing up and down her room, eyeing her mobile phone. Willing it to ring.

When it finally obliged, she pounced on it with a sob of relief. ‘Jeremy?’

‘No, it’s Beth. Just calling to see how you’re settling in?’ Beth paused. ‘I gather lover boy isn’t around?’

‘Not at the moment.’ Olivia managed to sound amused as well as rueful. ‘I would choose a weekend when he’s working away. But I’m expecting him back any minute now,’ she added hastily.

‘Then I won’t keep you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right, and check on your address. It is number sixteen, isn’t it?’

Olivia hesitated. ‘No,’ she said reluctantly. ‘Actually it’s 21B Lancey Terrace. As Jeremy wasn’t here, I thought it was better to establish my own base. I’ve found this terrific bedsit. Cheap too. I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been.’ She paused, aware of the over-brightness in her tone.

‘Well,’ Beth said, after a pause of her own, ‘just as long as you’re OK. Let me know how the job-hunting goes.’

‘I will. Bless you.’ Olivia switched off the phone and put it down beside her on the sofa, homesickness washing over her like a tidal wave. She’d planned to call her parents, but wasn’t sure she could manage it without bursting into tears and worrying them both to death. Better to wait until she had some good news for them, she thought. Something that would lift her own spirits too.