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Beth was very quiet, Chloe thought as they walked down the hallway. She wondered if she was just feeling shy. Although Beth had met her on several occasions when she’d had to come out to the house on business, the little girl didn’t know her that well.
Chloe had never been in Steven’s kitchen before. It was enormous, with a huge refectory table at one end and so many cupboards that it took ages to find something as simple as a cup. She remembered Steven telling her that this house had once been the old vicarage, and a path led directly through the gardens to the picturesque church of St Mary. It wasn’t hard to imagine the vicar’s wife in here, baking scones for the village fête. The house had a lovely, homely atmosphere.
‘Gina was crying before you came,’ Beth said as she watched her filling the kettle and opening and closing doors.
‘That’s because she’s worried about her dad.’
Beth sat on one of the chairs at the table. ‘Will Gina’s daddy die?’ she asked suddenly, and her voice wobbled precariously.
Chloe looked over at her, and suddenly she knew why she was quieter than usual; she wasn’t shy, she was worried. ‘He’s very poorly, but people get sick and then they get better again when they take the right medicine.’
‘Or they go to heaven like Mummy.’ Beth kicked her foot against the leg of the table. ‘I don’t want my daddy to be sick and go to hospital.’
Chloe went across to her and knelt down beside her. ‘Your daddy is fine, Beth,’ she said gently. ‘He’s back at the office working really hard.’
‘He hasn’t gone to hospital?’
‘No, darling, he’s his usual self. A bit grouchy now and then, but on the whole wonderful.’
Beth giggled at that, and looked a lot happier.
Smiling, Chloe went back to making the dinner. ‘You know, you remind me of someone in a nursery rhyme,’ she said. ‘Someone with one shoe on and one shoe off—was it Humpty Dumpty?’
Beth thought about this for a moment then shook her head.
‘Was it the three blind mice?’
Beth giggled. ‘Mice don’t wear shoes, silly.’
It was strange how the sound of a child’s laughter was so infectious. Chloe found herself smiling as she worked. And it was only later, after they had eaten and she was clearing away the dishes, that she realised that for the first time in weeks she had gone several hours without thinking once about Nile.
Steven closed the front door with a feeling of relief. What a night, he thought, shaking the snow off his coat before hanging it up in the vestibule.
‘Hello?’ He walked down the hallway, expecting to find Chloe in the lounge. He was impatient to talk to her about this business of her leaving. But all the lights were off in the lounge and the fire was dwindling down to just a red glow.
He retraced his steps and went upstairs.
The bedside lamp was still on in Beth’s room and it cast a warm pink light over the patchwork quilt and the peacefully sleeping child. Steven went over to tuck her in and kiss her cheek. Then his eyes moved to Chloe, who was curled up in the chair next to her. She was also fast asleep.
He wondered suddenly if he had been working her too hard recently. Perhaps he was even a little bit guilty of taking her for granted? That would change if he could persuade her to stay, he told himself.
His eyes moved over her. She looked vulnerable in sleep; her glasses were pushed up on top of her head, and she looked different without them. Steven noticed the delicate heart-shape of her face, and the fact that her cheekbones were well-defined. Her dark lashes looked incredibly long against the pallor of her skin. Her mouth curved in a soft smile. She was exceptionally pretty—why had he never noticed that before?
He smiled as he noted Beth’s storybook balancing from her fingertips, about to drop at any moment to the floor. But as he took the book from her he frowned as he noticed for the first time that she was no longer wearing her engagement ring. How long had that been missing?
Now he came to think about it, she hadn’t been her usual bouncy self these last few weeks. Her customary cheerful optimism that usually made him smile had been completely absent.
‘Chloe?’ He touched her arm gently, feeling almost protective about her; she looked so young and vulnerable sleeping there. ‘Chloe, honey, wake up.’
Her eyes flickered open; bright sapphire-blue, they stared up at him and for a moment he felt as disorientated as she looked. She had the most gorgeous eyes…why had he never noticed that before either?
‘Nile…?’ She murmured the name huskily.
‘No, it’s Steven. You’re at my house, remember?’
‘Oh…yes.’ If there was a faint flicker of disappointment in her eyes her lashes came down swiftly to hide her emotions. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t usually doze off like that. I guess I must be making up for the fact that I’ve had some sleepless nights recently.’
He watched as she tried to gather herself together, smoothing down her skirt, slipping her feet back into her shoes and then running her fingers over the arms of the chair as she searched for her glasses.
‘Have you seen my glasses anywhere?’ she murmured, looking around her in an unfocused way.
He reached out and pulled them down from the top of her head, smiling as he noticed the bright flush of embarrassment in her cheeks.
‘Sorry…I haven’t woken up yet.’
‘Stop apologising. I should be apologising to you for keeping you here so late.’ He sat on the edge of the bed, his knees almost touching hers. ‘Thanks for coming over here, Chloe.’
‘That’s OK. I don’t mind at all.’
Unless it was her imagination, Steven seemed to be looking at her very intently, most unlike the way he usually looked at her. She felt such a mess. She tried to push her hair back neatly into place as tendrils escaped to curl softly around her face. ‘What time is it?’
He glanced at his gold wrist-watch. ‘Almost ten o’clock.’
Steven glanced back up at her and something about the way his dark eyes moved over her face made her stomach dip.
Maybe it was his close proximity but Chloe felt suddenly very conscious of him, very aware of the raw power of his masculinity.
He smiled. ‘Come on downstairs and we’ll have a drink.’
‘No, I’d better go.’ She stood up. ‘I’ve got loads to do at home and I want to have a shower.’
‘Chloe, you can’t go anywhere tonight,’ Steven told her softly. ‘The weather is diabolical, and so are the roads. It’s taken me ages to get home. You’re welcome to stay in the spare bedroom.’
‘It can’t be that bad, surely?’ She crossed over to look out of the bedroom window. The snow was coming down so heavily that it almost obliterated the driveway in a white-out.
‘Dire, isn’t it?’ Steven said. ‘You’d never think it was April.’
‘No, you wouldn’t.’ Chloe pulled the curtains closed and turned to look at him. ‘Guess you’re stuck with me, then.’
‘Well, I’m hoping so.’
The tone of his voice seemed strangely weighted on those words and he was watching her with an intensity that she really wasn’t used to.
‘Chloe, you are not thinking of handing in your notice at work, are you?’
The abrupt question took her aback. ‘Why are you asking me that?’
‘I was looking for the list for the accounts department and I found that letter from Brittas in your desk,’ he said quietly.
‘Oh…I see.’ She felt her skin colouring with embarrassment as she remembered leaving the letter there in order to answer it in her lunch hour, but lunch had been overtaken by work and she hadn’t got around to it. ‘I was going to talk to you about that this afternoon—’
‘So are you thinking of leaving?’ Steven stood up from the bed. ‘Look, whatever Brittas are offering I’ll better,’ he said sharply.
The intensity of his tone startled her. ‘Well, actually, I wasn’t going to hand in my notice. I was going to ask you for a pay rise,’ she said truthfully.
‘Really?’ He pushed a hand through the darkness of his hair. ‘Thank God for that; you gave me quite a jolt.’
‘Did I?’ She was quite touched by the note of sincere relief in his voice. Then she smiled teasingly. ‘Enough of a jolt to give me a pay rise?’
He laughed. ‘Yes, Chloe…definitely enough for a pay rise. I’ll get on to the accounts department first thing on Monday.’
‘Thanks.’ She smiled. ‘When I was trying to get a minute of your time today to ask you this I never thought for one moment our conversation would end in Beth’s bedroom.’
‘No…it’s been a bit of a strange day all around.’
‘How did you get on with Renaldo?’ she asked.
His lips slanted wryly. ‘OK…I think. Renaldo is one tough cookie.’
‘Did he mention the meeting with the bank last week?’ She put her hand up to her hair as she felt it escaping the confines of its clips.
‘Yes, he did…’
Her hair wouldn’t go back in the clips, so impatiently she just let it loose, running her hand through the silky length as it tumbled around her shoulders. ‘I don’t suppose he brought those extra accounts with him?’
Her mind was firmly focused on the conversation, but Steven’s wasn’t. He was distracted by the way her hair had fallen in a long swathe around her shoulders. He noticed the golden lights amongst the darker strands of honey, giving it a rich vibrancy.
‘Steven?’
‘Huh?’
‘Did he mention the extra accounts?’
‘Yes…’ Steven stared at her abstractedly. He could hardly believe how beautiful she looked with her hair down. He shook his head as he realised she was waiting for him to expand on the subject. ‘Sorry, Chloe, I’m really tired. My brain seems to have gone into shut-down mode.’
‘I’m not surprised; you’ve been in that office since eight this morning.’
‘Yes, well, hopefully I’ll just have a couple more weeks like this and then everything will settle down once this acquisition has gone through.’
Chloe nodded. She watched as he loosened his tie, then ran his hand over the back of his neck. ‘Do you want me to make you a sandwich while you freshen up?’ she asked impulsively.
He looked as if he was about to decline the offer, then he shrugged. ‘Thanks, Chloe; I reckon I’m well and truly in your debt today.’
‘Watch it or I might ask for another rise.’ She grinned at him, a hint of mischief playing in her blue eyes now.
He watched as she moved over to check on Beth. Her fingers brushed gently to sweep a stray strand of golden curls from the child’s face, and then she bent to kiss her forehead.
The gesture was completely natural and so tenderly instinctive that it startled him. Why, he couldn’t have said; there was just something in the picture she presented, something familiar about the tableau of the sleeping child and the woman watching over her that jolted something inside him. Maybe it was the long golden hair that hid her face… Stephanie’s hair had been long and golden, just like Chloe’s.
‘Was Beth good for you?’ Abruptly he tried to snap out of whatever held him transfixed. He was overtired, he told himself briskly.
‘Yes, she was fine.’ She straightened and looked over at him. ‘You’re very lucky; she’s a lovely child.’
‘Well…I think so.’ Steven shrugged. ‘But then, I’m biased.’ His eyes flicked to the book he had taken from her hand earlier. ‘How many times did she get you to read The Elves and the Shoemaker?’
Chloe laughed. ‘Only four.’
‘You’re obviously a soft touch—I bow out at twice.’ He grinned at her and she smiled back.
She had a lovely smile, he thought contemplatively, perfect white teeth and a soft, sensual curve to her lips.
Chloe noticed the way his gaze rested on her lips for a second too long. The dark gaze was so intent that she felt herself tingle with awareness. Then their eyes met and she felt a delicious, shivery sensuality jolt through her body from nowhere. She couldn’t have been any more surprised by the feeling than if she had reached out and touched an electric current.
As he switched off Beth’s bedside lamp she turned away from him and went out into the hallway. That feeling just now was all in her imagination, she told herself crossly. Steven never looked at her with anything but the most cursory of attention. In fact, although he was always polite and respectful, she got the distinct impression that he saw her more as a piece of the office furniture than a woman.
He followed her out onto the landing. ‘While we’re up here I’ll show you your room,’ he said cordially as he led the way further down the landing and opened another door.
Chloe glanced around, noting the restful lilac colour on the walls and the white bed linen on the enormous double bed. ‘Gina sometimes uses it if she has to stay over when I’m away on business. There’s an en suite bathroom through there.’ He nodded to a door at the far side of the built-in wardrobes. ‘Just make yourself at home. Go and have a shower if you want…that’s what I’m going to do now.’
‘OK…thanks.’ She smiled at him and then felt that awkward sensation of awareness again. What the hell was the matter with her? she wondered. Maybe it was just the unusual situation. She was used to standing across a desk from him, discussing work. Finding herself in a whole different environment was bound to make her a bit edgy, a bit shy of him. Possibly that was what had been wrong with her back in Beth’s room as well, she realised suddenly.
‘I won’t be long.’ As Steven headed into his bedroom Chloe made her way downstairs. There was no point having a shower now, she thought, because she had nothing to change into.
She made a pot of tea and quickly made some sandwiches with some ham she had found in the fridge earlier. Then as she waited for the tea to brew she flicked through the CDs sitting beside the small music centre. Steven had similar taste in music to her, she noticed, and on impulse she put one in the CD player and pressed ‘play’.
Upstairs in his room, Steven heard the distant sound of the haunting romantic ballad and he frowned. The song that was playing had been his wife’s favourite. He remembered when they had first been married how he’d used to tease her about the fact that she played it over and over again…
He saw her green eyes laughing at him.
He took off the jacket of his suit and then his tie, trying to ignore the prickling sensation that was running down his spine. Chloe was nothing like his late wife. He was just tired and Stephanie was close to his mind because of the anniversary…that was all it was.
Chloe flicked the ‘repeat’ button so that the song would play over again. She hadn’t heard the tune in ages and it was one of her favourites. She stared out at the snow falling past the kitchen window, so white against the blackness of the sky.
She wondered where Nile was. He could at least have got in contact to explain about the money, to apologise. Surely he owed her that much?
The music snapped off behind her and she whirled around. Steven was next to the music centre.
‘Sorry, Steven…was that disturbing Beth?’
‘No, Beth could sleep through an earthquake.’ He hesitated for a second before adding, ‘I’ve just got a bit of a headache.’
‘Probably all that paperwork today.’ Chloe went across to pour the tea.
‘I think I’ll have something a bit stronger than tea,’ Steven said, opening one of the cupboards. ‘I’ve got a bottle of whisky in here…somewhere.’
Chloe was about to tell him that if he had a headache whisky was not the best thing to drink, then thought better of the comment. Steven didn’t need her counsel.
She noticed that he had changed into jeans and a blue shirt and his hair was still damp from the shower. Chloe had never seen him dressed in such casual attire before; it suited him—made him look more boyishly attractive.
‘Care to join me?’ Steven asked, looking up from his perusal of the drinks cupboard.
She shook her head. ‘I’ll stick to the tea,’ she said with a smile. ‘I’m not a whisky drinker.’
‘In fact, no bad habits at all?’
‘I wouldn’t go that far.’ She wondered if there had been a dry edge to that question. Did Steven Cavendish think she was boring? The idea needled her. ‘In fact, I’ve got more than my fair share of faults.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘Name one, then?’ he asked with a grin.
‘I could name loads,’ she retorted swiftly, ‘but, as you’re my boss, I don’t think that would be a very good idea.’
His dark eyes glimmered with amusement. ‘You’re on your best behaviour around me…is that it?’
‘Of course.’
He smiled and turned back to his contemplation of the cupboard. ‘How about a glass of red wine, then?’ He held up a bottle and looked around at her. ‘Come on, help me out—am I sailing anywhere near a weakness here?’
She laughed at the absurdity of the question and then found herself acceding. ‘A glass of red wine would be nice.’
‘Great; I hate to drink alone.’ Steven transferred the drinks and his sandwiches onto a tray. ‘Let’s go and sit in the other room and relax for a moment.’
The lounge was in darkness. Chloe turned on one of the side lamps as Steven put the tray down and went over to stoke up the fire.
She sat in one of the comfortable royal-blue chairs and watched as he encouraged the dying embers in the grate then threw on a few logs. As the blaze sprang to life the flames hissed and spat greedily in the silence of the room.
‘There’s nothing like a real fire,’ she murmured.
‘There’s something romantic about it, isn’t there?’ he agreed. ‘During the day we have to keep the fireguard on because of Beth, but in the evening, when she’s in bed, it’s nice to sit and gaze into the flames.’
By ‘we’ she presumed he was referring to Helen.
He sat on the floor and opened the bottle of red wine before leaving it to warm by the flames for a moment. ‘If this snow keeps up I doubt I’ll be able to go to Manchester tomorrow.’
‘I thought you said a little bit of snow wouldn’t affect the company jet?’ she reminded him light-heartedly.
He glanced up at her and grinned. ‘I was wrong, wasn’t I?’
‘Gosh, Mr Cavendish is admitting to being wrong!’ She turned laughing eyes towards the patio windows. ‘Are there pigs flying around out there in that snow?’
‘Less of the sarcasm, Ms Brown,’ he reprimanded with a glint of humour in his eyes. ‘May I remind you that according to that little speech you made in the kitchen you are supposed to be on your best behaviour around me?’
‘Sorry…don’t know what came over me.’ With a smile she settled herself even more comfortably in her chair. ‘Must be approaching the witching hour or something.’
Steven smiled back and leaned against a chair as he poured the wine. ‘Tell you what, I’m glad it is approaching the witching hour; I’ve seen enough of that office over these last few weeks to last me a lifetime.’
‘It has been very tense in there,’ Chloe agreed. She took off her glasses and put them down next to her on the coffee table.
‘So let’s drink to Friday, then,’ Steven suggested lightly as he passed her wine across to her. ‘And my wonderful PA, of course, without whom my office would disintegrate into chaos.’ He raised his own glass in salute.
Smiling, she took a sip of the wine; it was warm and mellow against her throat.
For a while they sat in companionable silence. The room was in semi-darkness, and she glanced around, admiring the elegance of the decor.
All the rooms were very big in this house, possibly because it had been built in a bygone era, where style and space had been more important than practical considerations such as how much the land cost. She admired the beautifully framed watercolours on the plain cream walls, the Louis XV fireplace and the ornate marble surround, the huge mirror stretching up to the ornate coving around the high ceilings.
‘You have a beautiful home,’ she remarked absently.
He smiled. ‘You sound as if you’ve never been here before.’
‘Well, they have always been flying visits, haven’t they? Usually when we are both so stretched with work that we’ve had to use every available minute to catch up with things by working from your office here.’
‘Yes, I suppose you are right.’ He glanced over at her thoughtfully. ‘I rely on you quite heavily sometimes, don’t I?’
She shrugged. ‘No more than any other boss relies on his PA.’
Steven decided that wasn’t quite true. Thinking that Chloe was leaving today had made him review exactly what he had with her.
He watched the way the firelight played over her face. Her skin had a smooth, creamy quality. She looked very young, and as her eyes lifted to look over at him there was a vulnerable air about her that intrigued him. And what about her engagement ring?
‘I hope I haven’t disrupted your weekend too much,’ he said casually. ‘What were your original plans for tonight?’
‘They were nothing special. I’m glad I was able to step into the breach. Did you find that list for the accounts department, by the way?’
He noted how she swiftly changed the personal question back to business. Now he came to think about it, Chloe did that a lot.
She was a wonderful PA, probably the best he had ever employed. He knew he could trust her implicitly, yet she kept herself to herself more than any other woman he had ever met.
If someone had asked him two years ago, when he’d been having problems with a personal assistant who’d had a crush on him and blushed every time he spoke to her, what his ideal PA would be he would have said someone like Chloe, someone who got on with the job and didn’t have any personal interest in him. Yet perversely, now that he had exactly the right person in the job, he found himself wanting her to talk to him a bit more about something other than work. She had this kind of closed-off look about her, a ‘do not touch’ attitude.
‘Yes, I found the list, thank you.’ He took a sip of his wine before saying slowly, ‘But let’s not talk about work tonight. I’ve had enough of that all week.’
‘As work is our common denominator, there might be a few long silences if we do that.’ She tried to laugh off the request, because in truth it made her feel nervously self-conscious.
Steven noted the sudden colour in her cheeks and knew he had ruffled her a little with the remark. He had no intention of overstepping the boundaries of their working relationship…for one thing, he didn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure. Yet his curiosity was aroused sufficiently to want to push those boundaries aside for just a while, just to quell the sudden need to know what exactly lay behind Chloe’s businesslike façade.
‘Maybe we have a few other things in common that we have yet to discover,’ he said lightly.
‘Like a love of old houses and fine wine?’ She kept her voice equally light.
‘There you are, we’ve found two things we have in common already.’
She smiled at the teasing note in his voice. ‘It does seem a bit strange for us to be relaxing like this,’ she said honestly. ‘I keep expecting a telephone to ring, or someone from one of the other departments to come barging in to ask for something.’
‘We never get a minute’s peace, do we?’ Steven agreed. ‘Naïvely I thought when I floated the company on the stock exchange four years ago that I’d be able to take more of a back seat. But I think I’m putting more hours in now as managing director than I ever did as the sole owner.’
‘Perhaps that’s the heavy price of success.’ She smiled.
‘Perhaps.’ He took a sip of his drink.
She wondered what he was thinking about as she watched the flickering firelight playing over his features. Maybe he was remembering the heady thrill of that business deal. For a man who wasn’t a chef, Steven Cavendish was a remarkably successful restaurateur.
From humble beginnings with one restaurant he had developed a style and a flair for the imaginative, setting in place the correct chef, the right location and something more…a flair for elegant dining that had struck a chord with Londoners, so that within a year the first Cavendish restaurant had been an overwhelming success and more had followed.