in stone-coloured trousers and a silk shirt open at the neck, he looked taller and fairer and more striking than ever.
‘It must be the butler’s day off,’ Dave said a trifle too loudly. Adding, ‘I bet he’s come to direct us round the back to the tradesmen’s entrance.’
‘Benson…’ Nodding coolly to the younger man, Robert Carrington strode across to the van and, opening the passenger door, held out his hand to Eleanor.
Still off balance, thrown by that feeling of recognition, she put her hand into his.
His smile holding a hint of mockery, he greeted her as though she was a guest. ‘Miss Smith… Welcome to Greyladies.’
The shock of meeting those tawny eyes literally took her breath away, and she was forced to drag in air like a swimmer who’s been under water too long, before she could answer, ‘Thank you.’
She had tried to tell herself that his effect on her would have faded, that on further acquaintance she would find him ordinary, dull even.
But rather than lessening, his impact was stronger. It made her heart beat uncomfortably fast, set her nerves quivering, and scattered her wits.
Her right hand clasped in his, her skin sensitised by his touch, she fumbled vainly to undo her seat belt with her left hand.
When he reached over to unfasten it for her, he was so close she could see the glitter of his short fair hair as it tried to curl against his temples; see how his dark lashes were tipped with gold, and how tiny laughter lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes.
There were twin creases beside his firm mouth, and above his top lip, a tiny V-shaped scar. His skin was clear and healthy and smelled pleasantly of sun and the fresh masculine scent of aftershave….
He slanted her a gleaming glance from beneath those long lashes.
Feeling a complete idiot because he’d caught her staring at him as though mesmerised, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
As he withdrew his hand, it brushed her thigh, and she jumped convulsively.
Perfectly straight faced, he said, ‘I do apologise.’ Then, ‘Allow me…’
Legs trembling, she found herself being helped out of the van.
‘Do you need to freshen up?’ he asked.
‘N-no, thank you.’ The moment the words were out she wished she had said yes please. It would have given her time to recover her composure.
‘The garages are through the archway and to the right,’ he addressed Dave crisply. ‘If you’d like to take the luggage straight up to your rooms, my housekeeper will be waiting to show you the way.’
The scowl on Dave’s handsome face as he climbed back behind the wheel, told of his annoyance at being ordered about.
That annoyance was tempered to some extent when Robert Carrington added, ‘Then perhaps you would care to join us for a pre-dinner drink on the terrace?’
Us… Did that mean there was a Mrs Carrington? Eleanor wondered.
A hand cupping her elbow, he led her through the front door and into a panelled hall.
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