A chill breeze blew through the kitchen. Alex started, looking at the door to the outside world, which was firmly closed. No draught there.
The spell broke and Nick cleared his throat. He stood up quickly, gathering their plates. Putting distance between the two of them.
‘Let me wash up,’ she said, trying not to babble and failing. ‘Fair’s fair. You did the cooking.’
‘There’s a dishwasher. All mod cons here. But sure, you can stack it if you want.’
‘You don’t have a special method for that?’ Everyone she knew had a particular way to stack their dishwasher. Even Gabe had a system.
‘I can always fix it later,’ Nick said, almost as if he was teasing her again. Trying to recapture that moment which had passed between them. He was almost flirting. And God help her, so was she.
But she’d heard him on the phone, talking to someone he referred to as ‘love’ and ‘mo stórín’, the Irish for ‘my darling’ or ‘my treasure’ or something like that, promising to spendtomorrow with them. She couldn’t make assumptions. And she definitely couldn’t afford any entanglements with him. The lawyers would have a fit. She was here to make sure that he was out of a job and out of his home. This could just be his new tactic. She had to remember that.
Yesterday he’d more or less made it clear he didn’t want her here. And she’d barely known him for a day.
But as they packed away the dishes, she was aware of his presence, his gaze whenever it alighted on her, even his breath in the quietness of the kitchen. It was like she could sense him without looking at him, as if she knew his every movement around her. As if, should she want to try it, she could close her eyes and find him by touch alone. Her fingers itched at the thought. Reaching out. Touching him. Being touched…
Her breath hitched in her throat.
Oh God, she couldn’t be thinking like that. She wasn’t sure what had come over her since she set foot inside Wildewood Hall.
She was not desperate. She was quite content with being single. She didn’t have time for any of this. And it was all going to be far too complicated. Just like it had been with Gabe. You didn’t mix business and pleasure.
Just thinking the word ‘pleasure’ sent another shiver through her body and she had to let the air out of her lungs in a gasp. Nick glanced at her, his eyes darkening.
‘I think I’ll call it a night,’ she said rapidly. ‘Long day yesterday and all that. See you tomorrow. Or…is that your day off? You’ll have things to do. So I guess I won’t. Don’t worry about it. I have work to do.’
‘I…sure, I guess.’ He looked so confused.
She just ploughed on, unable to stop herself now. ‘You can always take whatever time you need off, you know. I’m fine here on my own. Anyway, I’ll turn in. Goodnight.’
Her face had gone scarlet. She was so embarrassed and everything she said was making it worse. She was thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking, about someone she shouldn’t find attractive at all, and had no right to get involved with. Even if he wasn’t already involved with someone else.
They were never going to be friends, let alone anything more. He was standing in her way when it came to Wildewood Hall. And she was here to upend his life.
Alex fled up the stairs to her bedroom, passing by that painting she’d completely forgotten to mention to him. The man in it stared at her as she approached, his gaze lingering on her body, his smile taunting her.
She was sure that laughter drifted after her, deep and knowing. Not Nick. It didn’t sound anything like Nick. She wasn’t sure who or what would laugh like that. She didn’t want to know. She just wanted to hide.
Alexandra, a voice breathed, a sound of longing and desire, of raw need, of promise.
In a fit of anger, mostly at herself, she grabbed the painting, heaved it off the hook and shoved it face first against the wall so she didn’t have to look at it anymore.
In the morning she’d find a bonfire to chuck it onto. She’d build one herself.
And heaven help Nick Walker if he tried to stop her.
CHAPTER 10
NICK
Nick must have dozed off after he finished tidying up the kitchen. He wasn’t too surprised. He was bone tired from getting the house ready and the stress of everything just drained him. And pretending like none of it bothered him, especially when he went down to the village, to make sure those two parts of his life were kept firmly apart…
Or at least as firmly as he could. They had too many meeting points.
He hated the looks he got in Kilfayne, hated the whispers. Oh, he knew what they said about him. And the problem was, they weren’t entirely wrong, were they?
One day, Alex would hear all the gossip and the rumours and everything else, all his secrets stripped bare, and then what kind of look would she give him? It wouldn’t be the look of obvious desire that had woken its twin in him.
