‘Being unwell cuts no ice in a kitchen, believe you me.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you are very tough, and well able to drag yourself to work with a broken leg or share your flu with your colleagues. But being unwelldoescut ice in this kitchen when I make it clear to everyone that you are to rest and recuperate.’
‘That sounds like an abuse of power.’
He breathed out a sigh and folded his arms across his chest as he looked down at her. ‘That’s an interesting take on an employer who looks after the welfare of his workforce.’
Amy decided that this was the point when it made sense to stop digging the hole she was sinking into while she could still climb out. She bit her lip and pointed out, ‘I have rested.’
She still couldn’t get over the fact that she had slept so much of the day away.
‘I think it will take more than a couple of hours to redress the fact that you appear to have been functioning on the edge of exhaustion for weeks, possibly months…’
‘So you brought me here for a holiday?’
He reacted to her sarcasm with a frown as he raked a hand through his dark hair. ‘At this point I don’t know why the hell I brought you here!’
She was still blinking when the door closed behind him with a forceful click.
Chapter Ten
When Amy cameout of the bathroom in a fresh change of clothes she could see through the opening into the sitting room that the tea tray and sandwiches that had been delivered earlier by a fresh-faced maid had been removed.
She felt a lot better, though she was reluctant to acknowledge her relief that she wasn’t due in the kitchen.
She sat down in front of the mirror and opened her make-up bag, but after a reflective moment closed it, having extracted some lip gloss. She didn’t want to make it look like she was trying too hard—or, for that matter, trying at all.
She never wanted to be like her mother, desperate to please a man. Getting up at the crack of dawn so her husband wasn’t offended by her face without make-up, and splashing cash on the latest craze to eliminate any signs of ageing.
It didn’t take her long to braid her hair into one thick plait, which she threw over her shoulder. About to get up, she paused and unzipped the make-up bag again, deciding that a smudge of neutral eyeshadow and a flick of a mascara wand couldn’t really be consideredtrying hard.
At the tap on the door she took a moment to compose herself, which wasn’t so easy when her heart was drumming so hard she could feel it in her throat.
Amy had reached the door, where a steadying breath and being ninety-nine percent sure of who would be on the other side didn’t prevent her experiencing the shockwave impact of seeing Leo standing there.
Brain numb, her senses so acute it hurt, she stayed glued to the spot.
‘You look…’ His eyes flickered down her slim figure, taking in the narrowness of her waist in the full-skirted cotton. The butter-yellow of the sleeveless bodice made the golden-brown of her eyes pop. ‘Better.’
‘Better than bedraggled is not a high bar, but I’ll take it,’ she said pertly, flinging back the braid that landed in the middle of her back.
‘I like the fifties vibe of your dress.’
‘Thanks,’ she said lightly, closing the door behind her as she stepped out into the wide corridor. ‘How?’ she wondered, looking at the view through the window. ‘You have the sea view this side and through the bedroom window.’ She turned to glance at the door to her suite, which faced in the opposite direction. ‘Did I somehow miss the bridge? We’re not on an island, are we?’
‘No, a peninsula, so we look out on the Tyrrhenian Sea from all sides.’
‘It’s an incredible place.’
‘A long way from my bedsit above the garage with the view of the petrol pumps.’
Amy turned away; she didn’t want to think about the stolen moments they had shared in that poky bedsit. Peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet notwithstanding, they were the only times in her life when she had experienced true happiness. ‘I could do with some fresh air.’
Leo didn’t comment on the hint of desperation in her overly bright response. ‘This way.’
He led her in the direction Amy recalled as being the route from the kitchens, but before they reached the stone staircase he led her into a lift.
‘If you want to go out, this is your quickest route.’ Unlike her, he appeared oblivious to the skin-peeling tension in the enclosed space. Tension that made her virtually throw herself out when the doors swished open.
