Mistress to the Merciless Millionaire. ABBY GREEN

was truly a home. Warm and inviting, with colourful rugs on the exposed stone floor.

      At the back of the house Tiarnan revealed an idyllic garden with sunlight glinting off an aquamarine pool set among the bushes. A slice of paradise right in the middle of one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world.

      ‘You have a beautiful home, Tiarnan.’

      Kate said the words but they felt ineffectual, stilted. How many women had stood here and told him that?

      Tiarnan was looking around them. ‘Yes,’ he said, almost absently.

      Kate shot him a look but he was already moving, walking back towards the house. With a last lingering look at the stunning peaceful garden, Kate followed.

      Tiarnan heard Kate’s soft footfall behind him. Something forceful and inarticulate was rising in his chest. He’d stood outside and showed her his idyllic paradise, and yet for the first time since he’d bought it he was aware of something inherently empty about it. The image of Rosie appearing at the front door came into his mind’s eye. There had been something so lonely about that image too…

      He didn’t know what it was that was suddenly making him so introspective. He had Kate here. He had no grand plan where she was concerned, apart from getting her into his bed. When it came to women he found it easy to detach. But right now he was feeling anything but detached. He assured himself that it was just because he knew Kate already—they had a connection. And that was why she was here. He was going to use whatever means necessary to show her that he wanted her, to get her to admit to her own desire…

      Lunch was in a smaller, less formal dining room just off the huge kitchen. Esmerelda was bustling back and forth with delicious food and warm smiles, but that didn’t help dissipate the slight tension in the atmosphere. Despite the fact that Tiarnan was being utterly charming and mesmeric in a way that made Kate feel extremely flustered.

      Being the focus of his attention, albeit with Rosie there too, was nothing short of overwhelming. The coiled energy in his taut muscular body connected with hers and she felt jumpy. It was a monumental struggle just to try and keep up with the easy enough conversation.

      Rosie was largely silent and monosyllabic when Kate tried to talk to her. Kate had realised that the faint underlying tension was between father and daughter, and she guessed it went deeper than Tiarnan had let on. Rosie was picking at her food, and when she asked in a small, ever so polite voice if she could leave the table, Tiarnan said tightly, ‘You’ve barely said two words to Kate.’

      Kate directed a quick smile at Rosie and said, ‘I don’t mind. She can go if she wants. I remember how boring it can be, listening to adults.’