Allie glanced at her watch. All she wanted was the number for a tow truck. Fixing the Festiva was going to cost more than it was worth, but it would be cheaper than buying a new car. Probably.
As she continued to wait, Allie listened to the calming splash of the fountain in the background, her eyes resting on a bright purple trumpet flower. The sweet fragrance soothed her. Exhausted, she let her eyes drift shut and, for the first time in long time, felt her shoulder muscles, usually stiff from anxiety, begin to relax.
Then something tickled her ear.
“Couldn’t bear to leave me?”
His breath teased a strand of her hair. She twisted in the chair and found his face inches away. He was so close the woodsy scent of him filled her senses. So close she could see the thin black outline surrounding his light gray irises.
She leaned forward, trying to get as far away from him as possible, since he was violating her personal space. Again. “My car wouldn’t start.”
Straightening, he strolled to the opposite side of the table and sat down, his tall, muscular body at odds with the dainty chair. “Yes, it was an eyesore. I took the liberty of having it towed to the scrap yard.” When she opened her mouth to speak, he held up a hand. “No, no, Miss Campbell. No need to thank me.”
She stared at him for beat. “You took my car?” Gripping the sides of the table, she leaned forward. “You took my car? Where is it?”
Trevor flicked an imaginary fleck off the sleeve of his dark suit. “It’s gone for good, I’m afraid.”
When she jumped to her feet, the chair crashed backward. “How dare you?” Her voice bounced around the glass walls and slate tile floor. “I need that car. You can’t get rid of it.”
“And yet, I did.” He glanced toward the door. “Oh look, Arnold’s brought tea.”
Clenching her hands into fists, she fought the urge to reach across the table and pop him. The arrogance of this man was unbelievable—telling her to work a pole, junking her junker, sitting there like he was God. And she couldn’t just walk out of here or speed off in her car—her car—and never see him again. Oh no, she’d made a bargain, and for her family’s sake had to stick around and see it through.
The butler approached the table with a large silver tray bearing a teapot, cups, little sandwiches, and cookies. Frowning, he stared from his employer to Allie as he set the tray on the table. “Is everything all right, miss?”
“Everything’s fine, isn’t that right, Miss Campbell?” Trevor smiled pleasantly and waited.
Realizing her muscles were rigid with tension, she took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
The butler, Arnold, bent down and picked up her chair, holding it out until she sat. Then he handed her a napkin and poured a cup of tea. “Would you like sugar, cream?”
“Um, sugar please.” Her hands were shaking, so she thrust them in her lap. Allie rarely lost her cool, not even with the rudest hotel guest. Sometimes Monica brought out Allie’s claws, but this man and his high-handed ways made her so angry, she reacted before she could stop and think.
After doctoring the tea and setting it before her, Arnold placed three small sandwiches on a plate. “Here you are.” Then he served Trevor and, with a bow, left the conservatory.
“I need my car back.” She tamped down the panic rising in her chest. “Please,” she forced out, her jaw clamped tight.
“Your vehicle was ugly and didn’t work properly.” He took a sip of tea. “By the way, I’ve decided you’re moving in.”
***
He watched the blood drain from her face. Oh, he was going to hell, tormenting Allie Campbell this way. As soon as she left his office, he wanted to call her back and tell her he’d changed his mind. But when Arnold told him she was still here, her car disabled, he thought about how delightful it had been playing with her. And if he pushed her a bit, he might force her to give up on this insane idea. She didn’t want to be his mistress. And he didn’t want her. Well, that wasn’t quite true. Actually, he did want her. In several positions. But she was entirely too much work. It was best to nip this in the bud, now.
She shook her head. “I can’t move in with you. I have to look out for my sisters. I have a job.”
He peered at her over his teacup. “But you’ll still have a job, Miss Campbell, servicing my needs.” He tried not to smile at the blush that flamed her cheeks. Really, this was too easy.
He surveyed the tray of treats before him. “Mmm, Jammie Dodgers, my favorite. Arnold never puts on a spread like this for just me.” He plucked a biscuit from the tray and popped it into his mouth. “These are delicious. Here.” He picked up another and held it out to her. “Try it.”
“No.”
“Every whim, remember? You’re not backing out of the deal already, are you? What a pity.”
With a mutinous expression, she opened her mouth and allowed him to place the biscuit on her tongue. Snapping her mouth shut, she almost bit his finger, but he pulled away so that she only grazed him with her teeth. “What a temper you have, Miss Campbell.”
“I still have to work,” she said once she’d finished chewing. “I told you, we have medical bills and my sisters need to eat.”
“Another sandwich?” He gestured to the tray.
Slamming her hands down on the table, the crockery rattled and her untouched cup spilled its contents onto the saucer. “No, I want you to listen to me.”
She was a lovely woman, ripe, lush. But when she was angry, she was stunning. Those eyes flashed blue fire, her whole body practically vibrated. He had no doubt that she would be a passionate lover. He didn’t plan on finding out, of course. Still, he wondered if she was a moaner. Would she rake her nails down his back? Was she a screamer? If not, he could turn her into one, he was sure of it.
Despite wanting to talk her out of this crazy scheme, Trevor was reluctant to let her slip away so quickly. If she stayed the two months, or until he grew tired of her—and really, how long would that take—she could save her family’s home and wipe out the debt that must be crippling them. She’d even thank him in the end.
He kept his expression neutral. “I am listening, my sweet. You have medical bills, two teenage sisters who won’t make it through another day without your guidance, and an unemployed father who depends on you. Do I have that right?”
She shifted in her chair, obviously uncomfortable with the situation, uncomfortable with him. “They need me. I can’t just leave them. You don’t understand.”
“I’ll pay the medical bills. Without having to pay me or the hospital, your father will find some way to support your family. See? All better.”
She sighed, looking him in the eye. “It’s more than that. I have to go home. I’ll come back every morning, every evening. Mr. Blake…Trevor. Please.”
He stared back, mesmerized. This “please” had been sincere, not angry, not manipulative. But he wasn’t ready to let her go. Not yet. “I’ll have my driver take you home to get your things.” He rose from the table. “When you come back, Arnold can show you to your room. I’ll see you at dinner.”
He stood, tossed a last biscuit into his mouth, and sauntered out, leaving behind a seething Allie Campbell.
For some reason, he didn’t feel triumphant at getting what he wanted. Instead, he felt almost the slightest twinge of guilt.
***
Allie sat in the back of the limousine, seething. She hated him, hated that her father had borrowed his money, and most of all hated that she wasn’t in a position to rip that perfectly pleasant smile right off his face.