aside the uncomfortably warm sensation of self-consciousness that spread throughout her body, she determinedly lifted her head and silently defied him to find fault or look down his aristocratic nose at her for even a second.
‘My name is Kit Blessington. Your son hired me to give him some practical help while he recuperates from his accident.’
‘Did he, indeed?’ There was a definite suggestion of a mocking smile around the mouth whose upper lip was decorated by a dark military-style moustache. ‘Well, I’m Sir Henry Treverne—Hal’s father—as I’m sure you’ve gleaned by now. It’s good to know that my son had the foresight to get himself some help and support when he needed it, for once. He usually insists on doing most things alone, but I’m glad that on this occasion common sense prevailed.’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ Hal interjected drolly. The strain of maintaining his upright pose with the walking aids was suddenly reflected on his furrowed brow. ‘I hate to break up the party, but can we go in now? And my companion and I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee and a sandwich. It’s been a long, tiring drive.’
‘If you and Ms Blessington make your way into the family drawing room, I’ll go and find my housekeeper and get her to organise it. Now, come in from the cold and go and sit in front of the fire to warm up.’
Before he turned to follow his father inside the house Hal deliberately caught Kit’s eye and gave her a reassuring wink, as if he already knew that this visit wasn’t going to be an easy one for her either...
A WARM FIRE was indeed blazing invitingly in the marble fireplace as they entered the family drawing room. It was a strange feeling, coming back to the room Hal had sat in so many times over the years with his father and sister...almost a surreal sensation—as if the past was nothing but a dream he’d conjured up. It was literally years since the three of them had spent any proper time together, and it was growing more and more unlikely that they ever would. The loving, caring family unit that he’d longed for them to become after his mother had left had never really become a reality.
Not liking the sombre direction his thoughts were taking him in—especially when he’d resolved to heal the rift with his father—Hal made his way across the expansive stone floor, liberally covered with hand-crafted Persian rugs, and carefully lowered himself onto one of the leather couches. Kit stayed close by him to help. As he sat she took his crutches away and laid them down on the floor, where he could easily reach them. Then, with a self-conscious smile she moved away.
It wasn’t the reaction he’d anticipated. Whether she acknowledged it or not, there was a definite bond between them now, and in his mind their lovemaking last night had sealed that bond. He was no longer just a client she was working for, and she was no longer simply his hired help. With every fibre of Hal’s being he ached for more intimate contact—or at least for them to be easy enough with each other that they would automatically sit together. With that in mind, he gestured for her to come back and join him. It was akin to receiving a blow when he saw that her pretty blue eyes were reticent.
‘I’d better not. Your father might think it’s not very professional of me to sit next to you. He might think that I—that we—’ She was unable to finish the sentence and her cheeks coloured helplessly. As if desperately needing a distraction, she glanced round for a suitable place to sit. Selecting one of the armchairs positioned opposite Hal, she finally made herself comfortable.
‘That we are up to no good?’ he finished for her, his lips twisting wryly. ‘I hate that expression. Even if he doesn’t approve, do you think that’s going to stop me from wanting you or showing him that I want you?’
Exasperation was close to getting the better of Hal, because the need to hold Kit close had been mercilessly taunting him all day. In contrast, she had been unbelievably composed and pragmatic. How on earth was he going to convince her that he was in earnest about how he felt? That he didn’t just want a meaningless fling but something far more serious?
The depth and breadth of his intentions took him aback. Shaken, he shrugged off his jacket and dropped it onto the cushion beside him.
‘I told you that I can’t do this...that I—’ She stopped.
‘Need to be sensible?’
‘I know that you don’t want to hear that, but—’
‘My housekeeper, Mary, is going to bring us in some refreshments, and after that she’s going to go and get your rooms ready. I presume you and Miss Blessington are staying the night, Hal?’
His father’s timing couldn’t have been worse, Hal thought irritably. Yes, he wanted them to build bridges with him—that was why he was here—but equally he wanted to put things right between him and Kit—to get her to see that he wasn’t the spoilt playboy used to getting his own way that she might secretly fear he was...not a man who wouldn’t hesitate to use her and then cast her aside just as her mother’s ex-boyfriends had done to her. But it looked as if that particular conversation would have to wait until later, when they could be alone.
‘Yes, we are. I’d rather not ask Kit to drive us back to town tonight. And, by the way, I’m going to need a downstairs room—and so is Kit, in case I need her.’
‘That won’t be a problem. That’s settled, then. So, how have things been since the accident?’ his father asked, taking a seat in the high-backed armchair next to Kit.
The question was posed in the familiar non-committal and unemotional tone that Hal knew only too well. It was clearly too much to expect him to ask how he was feeling. Probably the only reason he’d referred to his son’s injury was so that he could once again tell him how reckless he’d been, proving his opinion that pride came before a fall to be unerringly right.
Unable to help himself, Hal immediately made it his mission to disappoint him. ‘Things are good—much better than I expected, given the debilitating nature of my injury.’ Glancing over at Kit, he was surprised to see that her hands were folded almost demurely in her lap and her eyes were downcast, as if she didn’t want to draw particular attention to herself...as if she believed she should be as unobtrusive as possible. Was it because coming face to face with the imposing grandeur of his home and meeting his father had overwhelmed her? Perhaps it had even made her nurse a feeling of inferiority? The mere thought that she might be entertaining such a self-deprecating idea made him see red. Apart from his sister, Hal didn’t know one other woman who could match her for sheer class...
‘In fact I went for a run in the park this morning. Didn’t I, Kit?’
‘This is a serious matter. I don’t think it’s something you should be joking about, Henry.’
The disapproving glance crossing his father’s features, plus the more formal use of his name, made Hal bristle. ‘Isn’t it? If we can’t laugh at the vicissitudes of life sometimes then we’ll all be permanently addicted to tranquillisers merely to help us survive. Personally, I’d rather feel the pain than dull it or pretend it isn’t there.’
‘Your son wasn’t entirely joking, Sir Henry,’ Kit interjected calmly, leaping to Hal’s defence. ‘We did go for a run in the park. At least, I ran as I pushed him in his wheelchair.’
‘Did you, indeed?’ Staring at her, his father blustered, ‘Did you really think that was a good idea when my son already has a broken leg, young woman? What if he had fallen out of the chair and hurt himself even more?’
‘There was no chance of that. For goodness’ sake, I’m an adult, not a child, and Kit was only trying to cheer me up.’ Hal was rigid with anger. ‘In any case, why is the thought of having some fun so alien to you, Father? Not everything in life has to be so damn serious. Do you even know the concept of relaxation?’
To his surprise, the other man looked almost crestfallen.
‘The truth is I probably don’t,’ he answered quietly.