Trust in Me (7 page)

Her eyes clashed with his for just a moment – and then he slowly moved in for the kill.

His lips were firm, moving on hers with an assurance that left her reeling. She felt his kiss all the way down to her toes – and all the way back up again.

And then he drew back, but remained sitting on his heels in front of her, his hands on hers.

The kiss had been fleeting, but it left her dazed. She’d been unprepared for such an intimacy with Theo and never had she expected she’d have enjoyed it so much. The exotic taste of him, the tangy scent, had sent her senses into overdrive.

And Rosie was disgusted with herself. She never allowed men to waltz into her home and kiss her. But the lessons she’d learned as she’d watched her father’s countless liaisons – and how they had cheapened the women who had adored him – had all been forgotten as Theo had kissed her.

“Why did you do that?” It was easier to blame him than to examine her own reactions.

He shrugged again. “It seemed like the right thing to do. You were upset – I wanted to make you feel better. I didn’t know what else to do.” He dropped her hands and stood up and she stared helplessly at him as he took a few steps away.

“It wasn’t the right thing to do,” she told him quietly. “We’re in the middle of an almighty mess, and kissing doesn’t have any place here.”

She could tell he didn’t believe her as his gold eyes narrowed and his mouth twitched. He’d probably been able to work out how much she’d liked it – she hadn’t pushed him away or anything. And, horror of horrors, she’d kissed him back – just for a moment, but her lips had definitely moved of their own accord.

She was the first to look away, turning her attention to the heap of untidy paperwork on the desk.

He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you give me a proper tour of the house? My plans were interrupted yesterday.” He paused meaningfully and she dutifully remembered how exactly how she had interrupted those plans. If she thought she had a chance of getting away with throwing him out again, she might have been tempted into a repeat performance. Anything other than have to deal with the complicated attraction she felt for him. Or seeing Theo’s reaction when he finally saw her home in its inglorious entirety. She didn’t want him to see how they lived – not when the reality was so depressing.

Rosie stared hopelessly at the papers scattered over her desk. “But…”

“If you like, we could look over the accounts later.”

She shrugged, mentally admitting defeat. He’d officially relieved her of her other duties and there were no more excuses. Giving the paperwork one last, longing look, she got to her feet. “I don’t seem to have anything better to do.” And, she supposed, it would be best to move around the building, rather than sit in the confined office space when the memory of his kiss was still so vivid.

To his credit, Theo said very little as they viewed the dilapidated rooms together. There was plenty he could have said – about the peeling wallpaper, the cracked plasterwork, the missing cornices and the dangerously dipping ceilings.

As they moved along the upstairs, she heard an almighty clattering behind her and turned to find Theo sprawled on the landing. “Oh, my.” She rushed over and offered him a hand. “I should have warned you to look out for the buckets.”

“What are they doing there?” He took her hand, but didn’t burden her with any of his weight as he sprung effortlessly to his feet.

“We leak when it’s wet,” she explained. “The buckets are there to catch rainwater.” It would be too easy to leave her hand nestled in his, but she pulled it away.

He ran his hand through his hair. “I suppose I’d better add a new roof to the cost of renovations.”

Rosie knew he had to be mentally calculating the cost of repairs and refurbishment as they stepped over the debris. And she knew the total wouldn’t bear thinking about. But still Theo didn’t criticise and she really liked him for that.

She wanted the manor to be restored to its former splendid glory. It had been a beautiful house once and it deserved to be taken care of. But she couldn’t be happy with Theo’s plans when her head was still buzzing with the news he was going to live at the manor. How could she hope that he’d let her and Evie stay when he’d made it clear that he wanted the place to himself?

She still found it hard to accept the manor was no longer in the family. Of course, it had never actually belonged to Rosie in the first place. But while first her father and then Harry had held ownership she’d believed she and Evie had an automatic right to a home here. Just showed you how wrong a girl could be, she realised bitterly.

***

“Your brother seems to have effectively stripped every asset from the place,” Theo commented at last. He threw the estate cash books back onto the desk and picked up a folder of miscellaneous correspondence, flicking through it with lightening speed. His wish for a guided tour realised, he still hadn’t said much, but she’d been able to tell from his grim expression that he wasn’t in the least impressed by what he’d seen.

At Rosie’s insistence, they then put in a horrific couple of hours going over the estate accounts. Sitting with only the old, rickety desk between them was doing her blood pressure few favours, but she didn’t want it said that she’d hidden any of the unsavoury facts.

“Legally he’s done nothing wrong.” Rosie grimaced, even to her own ears the excuse sounded pathetic.

“Perhaps, but all he’s left is the shell of the property.”

“Why did you buy the estate without seeing it?” The question had been burning from the moment he’d turned up on the doorstep brandishing his ownership papers. According to the information Evie had uncovered, his reputation as an astute businessman was legendary. The Theo Bradley whose biography they had read on the net would not have thrown an inordinate amount of money at Harry for any run down estate – especially when he hadn’t seen the property in question.

“I didn’t.” His expression was grim. “You don’t have a monopoly on feckless siblings.”

Rosie’s brow furrowed. “I don’t follow.”

“Lysander,” he told her by way of explanation. “My dear older brother. He met your brother through their mutual love of a good poker game. Harry had been losing heavily over a number of years – he sold out to cover his debts and Lysander was more than happy for Bradley Investments to foot the bill.”

Chapter Seven

Rosie slumped in her chair. It was almost as though she’d been slapped. Obviously, deep down, she’d held out some forlorn hope Harry would ride to the rescue at some late hour – otherwise she wouldn’t feel so crushed at this news.

Harry had a gambling habit and Rosie hadn’t suspected. The startling truth was crushing: Even if she’d been able to convince Theo to sell the manor back to the family, Harry would not have had the money left to give him.

“You didn’t know about Harry’s gambling problem?”

Rosie shook her head. It seemed there was a lot she didn’t know and Theo was wasting no time filling in the blanks.

“I thought as much when you suggested yesterday he’d buy back the manor,” Theo surmised, his keen golden eyes scrutinising her horrified features. “You should forget your brother. His behaviour has been atrocious. Not only has he done nothing to help you raise Evie, but he’s been actively working against you by plundering the estate assets to fund his party lifestyle.”

Rosie pushed back from the desk and began to pace the frayed carpet. “Harry wasn’t raised with us.” Despite agreeing with every word Theo said, she still needed to defend her brother. “Dad didn’t see him at all until he was an adult. He must have been jealous, felt he’d missed out on having a father around when he was growing up.”

Theo shook his head. “He’s a grown man – he should have gotten over any feelings of jealousy years ago. He should have helped you to run the estate when your father died. He should have taken responsibility for your sister.”

Rosie felt uncomfortable. Even if Harry was worse than useless, he was on her team – part of her family. While she was at liberty to complain about him, Harry’s behaviour was none of Theo’s business. “I was happy to do it. I love my little sister. And I love this place. Besides, you should put your own brother in order before you start to criticise other people’s.”

“I’ve dealt with Lysander. He no longer has access to any Bradley funds and he’s been demoted to a position even he’d find hard to mess up.”

Stunned, Rosie sat back down opposite this gorgeous man, looked across at his beautiful face and shivered. He was so cold as he spoke of his brother, his words so final that she wanted to shiver.

It did not bode well for her. If he was capable of capable of treating a member of his own family like this then throwing out two squatters from his newly acquired property would pose no problem.

He closed the file he had been reading with a slam. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m the big bad wolf in this story.”

She looked into his golden eyes and was drawn by a drowning sensation. He certainly posed as much danger as any fairytale villain, at least as far as she was concerned. She swallowed. “Aren’t you?” Keep it professional, she reminded herself, don’t be so stupid...she dragged her gaze away from Theo and settled instead on the framed poster of her father’s band. Attitude. She sat up a little straighter in her chair and did her best to blank out the charm machine sitting opposite her.

He sighed. “Rosie, none of this is of my doing. Our respective siblings got us into this mess.”

“But you could get us out of it.”

“I’m flattered by your faith in my abilities, but this is a situation we’re stuck with. I can’t walk away, and it’s obvious you can’t, either.”

“I can’t stay here, not without a proper role.” Rosie took a deep breath. Time to convince him her plan could work. “You could let me run the estate,” she pleaded. “Let me and Evie stay at the manor and I’ll turn this place around. You’ve seen the books, you know what I’m saying’s true. If Harry’s no longer allowed to help himself to the profits I could make this work.”

“Rosie, this place isn’t fit for you and your sister to live in. It isn’t fit for anyone.”

She got up and walked around the desk to face him as he sat. “This is my home.”
No it’s not
, a little voice reminded her. She told the voice to shut up. Theo had no right, no right at all to speak like this about the place she loved most. “You know that Evie and I have lived here all our lives. We were both born here.”

“Times change. Things have to move on.”

“They don’t have to,” she pleaded. “You don’t have to throw us out.”

“I’ve given you my word you have nothing to worry about, but I can’t allow you and Evie to continue to live like this. Quite apart from my personal feelings on the matter, I’d be legally negligent in my duties as a landlord. This place isn’t a suitable habitat for a dog, let alone two young women.”

Rosie was horrified. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“It’s true and you’re deluding yourself if you think otherwise. The place is run down to a point where it poses a danger to life and limb.”

“I’ve done my best to keep everything together. And you think you can waltz in and insult me and my home from your privileged, high and mighty position?”

“You need someone to make you face the truth.”

Such was Rosie’s fury, Theo’s face became a blur. She wanted to hurt him as he’d hurt her. “I think I really hate you,” she told him quietly.

Something changed in the quality of the way he looked at her. His eyes were hungrily fixed on her mouth. She realised too late what she’d done – after the effort of keeping things professional over the past few hours, she’d lapsed and made it glaringly personal. Okay, so she hadn’t meant to cross boundaries with her carelessly uttered insult, but he obviously wasn’t looking at things that way.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she backtracked. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

“Too late.” He moved forward in his seat and she was transfixed by him, unable to move, unable to run as a sensible woman would have done. “You’re not forgiven.” He advanced, closer still. “But, if you think you hate me, that must be the biggest delusion of all.”

More than anything she wanted to close the gap between them, but some level of sanity remained. She’d allowed him to kiss her earlier and she hadn’t done a thing to stop him. But not this time. Theo was the enemy who had plans to make her homeless and jobless – even if he insisted she had nothing to worry about. He was the man intent on leading her towards temptations that would make her no better than the women who’d partied with her father – the ones she’d pitied and despised as she’d been growing up.

Her face burned. “You’re not my type,” the lie tripped off her tongue.

“Why not?”

“You’re too tall,” she uttered the first daft excuse to enter her head.

“That problem’s not insurmountable.”

“You’re talking in riddles,” the sentence finished on a gasp as he gripped her tightly around the waist and she tumbled down onto his lap.

She pulled away at once and scrambled back to her feet. “Not a good idea,” she told him primly, daring to look from beneath lowered eyelashes and noting he looked as shocked as she felt.

***

Theo couldn’t explain what had happened. He’d never been so overwhelmed by a woman in his life before and all he could think about was kissing her again. And she’d enjoyed their kiss every bit as much as he had, so why was she now denying he was her type? There was something going on, he was sure, and it had to do with more than the estate.

He ran an unsteady hand through his hair.

“Rosie,” the high-pitched cry made him look round to find a middle-aged woman in an ankle length dress of flowing purple, her long hair was so blue-black it had to dyed and her eye-make up made her look a bit like a panda.

“Marsha, I’m working,” Rosie muttered. “This will have to wait.”

“It can’t, darling. Really it can’t. I was speaking to Alicia on the telephone this afternoon...”

Rosie turned towards Theo. “Alicia Powell,” she explained. “She was married to Adam, The Noise’s lead guitarist,” Rosie used her warning tone, he noticed and he suspected she was trying to stop the older woman from rambling on. “This Marsha,” she told Theo. “George’s mother. And this,” she told Marsha, “is Theo Bradley.”