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Authors: Helen Brooks

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BOOK: The Beautiful Widow
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If only he didn’t have such a—such a
physical
effect on her, she thought early one cold morning at the beginning of December. It had been six months she’d worked with him now, but every time she caught sight of him in the morning her heart beat rapidly and her mouth went dry. And it didn’t help that, the more she’d got to know him, the more she appreciated his dry, slightly wicked sense of humour, his ability to laugh at himself, his cynical but definitely amusing take on life.

Toni pushed her hair back from her forehead as she stood gazing out of the kitchen window into the tiny garden dusted with white from a heavy frost the night before. Spider webs on her mother’s pots and bushes surrounding the patio glinted and sparkled in the weak morning sunlight, and a carpet of diamond dust coated the stone slabs.

She took a sip of the coffee she’d made for herself before the rest of the household awoke, and contemplated the day ahead. The apartments having been finished the week before and immediately snapped up, Steel now had a list of rich and influential would-be buyers for the new project that had been started while the apartments were still being worked on. This was the conversion of an enormous old riverside inn sitting in a quarter of an acre of ground into four three-bedroom apartments, complete with a new garage block over which was planned a caretaker’s flat. The whole would be surrounded by an eight-foot brick wall and electric gates, with enough security to match Fort Knox.

But it wasn’t the inn on the agenda today. Before she
had left the office the night before, Steel had told her they’d be visiting a property outside London this morning, midway between the capital and Oxford. She had nodded interestedly. ‘Another conversion?’

‘Not exactly, no. Just come and see the place with an open mind anyway and then I’ll tell you my plans for it,’ he’d said, somewhat cagily, Toni thought now.

They had been sitting in Steel’s office at the time, a routine they seemed to have slipped into before she left to pick up the twins each evening. Initially the chat and cup of coffee at the end of the working day had been a time for discussing any problems or difficulties that had occurred on the job, but somewhere in the time between June and December it had changed into something more …

What, exactly? She frowned, her gaze caught by the robin who appeared on the window sill outside, peering in the window and reminding her she hadn’t put his cake out that morning. Delving into the cupboard for the cake tin, she cut him a generous chunk of her mother’s fruit cake and opened the back door, crumbling his breakfast on the sill in front of him. He didn’t bother to move, watching her as she retreated and pecking even as she closed the door. He’d brought young ones along in the summer but since they’d matured he’d seen to it they were sent packing.

Her mind returned to Steel; she asked herself what it was about their evening chats that was so unsettling. Since the incident in the garden in the summer he’d been propriety itself; she could have been a man for all the impact she made on him. This thought wasn’t new and one she didn’t like to dwell on. It had the power to ruin her day.

Perhaps it was the fact that they now tended to discuss
anything and everything in a way she’d never had with anyone before. And he was more relaxed in the evenings and unfortunately ten times more attractive, often sitting with his tie loose and the first few buttons of his shirt undone revealing the beginnings of the black curly hair on his chest. She was galled just how much this affected her, especially in view of his indifference to her, but the flagrant masculinity was all the more potent for its naturalness. He was just one of those men who
radiated
maleness, she told herself irritably. Oozed it. Every little gesture, the way he held his head, the way he walked.

She finished her coffee, washing up her mug along with a couple of dishes from supper the night before. Her mother’s tiny kitchen didn’t boast a dishwasher.

She had a shower and got dressed before she woke the twins and took her parents their morning cup of tea in bed. By the time she dropped the twins off at school for their breakfast club a beautiful December day had unfolded, the sky high and blue and a winter’s sun casting wisps of pale yellow light over the world below. It was good to be alive on such a morning.

Steel had obviously been working for some time when she arrived at the office and he called her into his room. His desk was strewn with papers, the biscuit tin was open and the delicious smell of coffee permeated the air. ‘Don’t take your coat off. We’re leaving straight away,’ he said, fastening the first couple of buttons of his shirt and pulling his tie into place as he spoke. ‘And bring a notebook with you.’

‘OK.’ It was all she could manage, having caught the clean scent of his aftershave as he’d raked his fingers through his hair. It was a habit of his, the attempt to control the quiff of hair that was forever falling onto
his forehead no matter how short he had his hair. She could imagine its refusal to obey irritated him no end. She didn’t know how it had the temerity!

He also narrowed his eyes slightly and pulled at his left ear when he was considering something, became completely deadpan when he was unsure of his ground—which wasn’t often—and had a delicious way of quirking his mouth when something had struck him funny when it shouldn’t have.

Oh, she knew quite a bit about what made her one-in-a-million boss tick, Toni thought wryly. Apart from his love life. In all their discussions he’d never mentioned women, for which she was eternally grateful. And the office grapevine had gone silent on the subject too. Normally, apparently, Steel’s latest woman was discussed and dissected at length. The last one to be mentioned—a flame-haired attorney with a body to die for, according to most of the men—had bit the dust months and months ago. Rumour had it that Barbara Gonzalo had been as passionate and vibrant as her name suggested, but she’d committed the cardinal sin of falling in love with him. She had been very vocal when he’d finished their relationship, even going so far as to storm into the office the morning after and cause a scene that had rocked the building. Toni could just imagine how that had gone down with Steel.

They left the office and entered the lift, and once it had deposited them in Reception he took her elbow as they crossed the foyer. Immediately a heated weakness suffused her body. It was always the same. His slightest touch seemed to set off a chain reaction in her body she was powerless to do anything about.

They were in the Aston Martin and on their way
before he said, ‘This project is slightly different from the others, Toni.’

Glad he was speaking at last—he’d been silent and withdrawn so far—she nodded in what she hoped was an efficient way. ‘Oh, yes?’ she asked encouragingly.

‘I’m thinking of buying a house, somewhere I can escape to but which is still not too far from London.’

Completely taken aback, she stared at the expressionless profile. ‘Oh.’ Not exactly an intelligent comment, a separate part of her brain noted. Bringing her mind to bear, she said, ‘And you want me to suggest ideas if you decide it’s what you want? Throw a few facts and figures into the equation?’

‘Exactly. You’re a woman—’

So he
had
noticed, Toni thought sourly. How kind.

‘And you’ll provide a different viewpoint as well as a creative slant. It’ll need plenty doing to it if I buy it.’

She nodded again. ‘I see.’ She thought of his apartment—ultra-modern and gadget-mad with enough stainless steel and neutrality to satisfy any self-respecting bachelor—and knew she wasn’t going to like this house. She didn’t fool herself that when he spoke of ‘escaping’ it would be by himself, and everything in her baulked at the idea of contributing to a love nest for Steel and his entourage of women. Stifling her emotion, she said quietly, ‘Have you seen the property before?’

‘Had a look at it a few days back.’

Had he been alone then or with someone? Just because the gossip mongers hadn’t got hold of his latest partner it didn’t mean he was currently single. Why would he be?

Once they had left the city behind the road snaked past barren white fields, the grizzled countryside they were beginning to travel past stark and bare but holding
a desolate beauty nonetheless. Toni relaxed a little. She loved the country. Both her mother’s and father’s parents had lived deep in Hertfordshire, which was where her parents had grown up and met, and she could recall wonderful summer holidays at their respective homes when she’d been as free as a bird to run wild from morning till night. Real log fires; cottage gardens ablaze with all the old-fashioned flowers like hollyhocks and lupins and sweet peas and a beautifully tended vegetable patch; warm, fresh brown eggs for breakfast from her grandparents’ much-loved and cosseted hens, and listening to the owl hooting outside the house when she was snug in bed—it had been a magical time. She had been truly happy then, before the world and its ways had thrust her into a harsher awareness of life.

They passed a couple of towns and villages and had been travelling for quite a while before Steel murmured, ‘Not much further now. The house is set by itself just outside a village, but a large market town is only ten miles away so it’s not too remote a location.’

Toni nodded but didn’t comment. The journey had been conducted in almost total silence and, for some reason she couldn’t explain, she was feeling nervous. It wasn’t only that she was alone with Steel, although that always caused an agitated trembling deep inside, but he seemed different this morning somehow. Over the last months, working so closely together on his pet projects, she’d thought she had seen all his moods, but this was a new one. The man had more guises than a chameleon.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked suddenly, pulling off the main road and into a long country lane guarded by sentinel-like trees either side of the high hedgerow.

‘The matter?’ She glanced quickly at him but he was
concentrating on a bend in the lane and the hard profile gave nothing away. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘You were frowning.’ He smiled. ‘Quite distinctly.’

‘Was I?’ she asked in genuine surprise.

‘What were you thinking?’ he asked softly.

She knew him well enough by now to know he would persist until he got an answer, and he always seemed to be able to detect a lie. Keeping her voice steady, she said, ‘I was just thinking you don’t seem yourself this morning, that’s all.’

He shot her a look of sardonic amusement. ‘Is that so?’ he drawled lazily. ‘And what, exactly, is myself?’

‘I’m sorry?’ She wished she hadn’t spoken now.

‘How would you sum me up, Toni?’

This conversation wasn’t going at all as she wanted. There had been one or two other occasions lately when he’d displayed a somewhat mordant slant, but they’d been short-lived and gone in minutes. Impossible man.

‘Ah, I see you consider that too personal a question. Am I right? All the little shutters have gone up with a vengeance.’

She’d often got the feeling he was laughing at her and this was one of those times. Annoyance brought an edge to her voice as she said, ‘You might consider my reply too personal if I answered truthfully.’ And put that in your pipe and smoke it.

‘Touché.’ He grinned that sexy, charming grin of his and her heart began an undignified gallop. ‘So do I take it I haven’t managed to redeem myself over the last six months?’

Was he
flirting
with her? He couldn’t be. Not Steel. Toni found she wanted to put a hand to her chest to still her hammering heart but didn’t dare to. Instead
she forced herself to speak calmly and steadily: ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Do you know you always say that when you’re prevaricating?’ His tone wasn’t critical, more casually amused with a warm edge to it. ‘And you rub your nose when you’re enthusiastic about something and hold onto your bottom lip with your teeth when you’re listening intently.’

She stared at him, unable to say a word or spring back with one of the witty responses she was sure his girlfriends would use. He’d been observing her while she’d been observing him?

‘And there’s a note in your voice when you talk about your children that’s never there at any other time.’ He drew the car to a stop and cut the engine. ‘Here we are,’ he continued, as offhandedly as though they’d just been discussing the weather. ‘I’ll just open the gates. They’re supposed to be automatic but they don’t work; one of many things which will need attending to if I take the house.’

He slid out of the Aston Martin and opened the massive wrought-iron gates set in a high red-brick wall. Toni watched him, her head whirling.

Once he’d climbed back in the car he drove on to a long winding drive bordered on each side by lawns, shrubs and trees. The house was a hundred yards or so in front of them, a mellow old building with honey-coloured stone and a thatched roof. It was as different from what she’d expected as could possibly be.

Her face must have expressed her thoughts because beside her Steel murmured, ‘Surprised? What did you have me down for? No, let me guess. A new build perhaps. Or maybe a barn conversion. Something with a
modern feel anyway and perhaps a little soulless. Am I right?’

He was absolutely spot on. ‘Not at all,’ she said tightly, glaring at him. ‘I had no thoughts about what to expect one way or the other.’

‘Liar.’ He left the car before she could retort, walking round the bonnet and helping her out of the low sleek vehicle with a solicitous hand at her elbow.

It was the tranquillity of her surroundings that hit Toni immediately, that and the sound of birdsong in the trees. She breathed in the crisp frosty air that smelt different from the fuel-laden fumes of the city and then gazed up at the house. It was beautiful, stunning, the quintessence of old-world charm. England at its best. She swallowed hard. ‘How old is it?’

‘Sixteenth century. At least the original part of the house is, but it’s been extended. It sits in two acres and has magnificent views at the back. It even has its own small wood with resident badgers.’ He smiled at her rapt expression. ‘You like it, then? It meets with your artistic approval?’

BOOK: The Beautiful Widow
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