perfect your technique.' He paused
allowing dial to sink in, then added, 'Now, get dressed—
unless you want me to help you?'
'No.' She bit her lip. 'I can manage.'
The shower seemed to be working better this morning. Nick
had probably given it an executive order, she thought
rebelliously, as she zipped herself into the yellow dress, ran a
curvy brush through her hair, and went to join him in the other
room.
A trolley had just been brought in, and Cally saw grapefruit,
croissants with dishes of butter and preserves, and a t all pot
of coffee.
Nick rose. 'Come and sit down,' he said, indicating the sofa
beside him, and she reluctantly complied.
He put a hand under her chin, surveying her critically. 'I have
to say that you don't look particularly rested."
'I hardly slept at all,' Cally said curtly, jerking her head away.
'I'm not used to sharing a bed— particularly with a man.'
His mouth twisted sardonically. 'Just one of many new
experiences waiting for you, darling.'
She said slowly, 'I hoped—I prayed—that when I woke up
this morning it would all be just a bad dream. Or a cruel joke.'
She swallowed. 'Nick-please tell me that's all it was. Say that
you didn't mean any of the things you said last night. Because
I— I think I've been punished enough.'
'It's straightforward enough,' he said, pouring the coffee. 'And
I meant every word. Give me a child, and in return you'll get
your divorce. What part of that do you not understand?'
She said in a low voice, 'I can't understand how you can bear
to do this to me. It's barbaric'
'Your own behaviour, of course, being so civilised,' Nick
returned mockingly. "Have some coffee, and spare us the
cliché of saying it would choke you.'
Those very words had been on the lip of Cally's tongue, but,
chagrined, she bit them back, and accepted the cup he held out
to her in smouldering silence.
The coffee was surprisingly good, black and strong, putting
heart into her and enabling her to say eventually, 'When we
reach Wylstone I'd like to move back into the courtyard flat—
at first, anyway.'
'I'm afraid that won't be possible.' Nick said without the least
sign of regret as he finished his grapefruit and put d own the
spoon. 'I'd have to evict the Thurstons, and they wouldn't be
happy about it.'
Cally frowned. 'The Thurstons?'
'The couple who work for me.' He chose a croissant from the
dish.
'What happened to Mrs Bridges?' She was astounded. Sir
Ranald's housekeeper had been there for years— almost part
of the fabric of the building.
His mouth quirked in faint amusement. 'She preferred to
follow Adele into exile. But the Thurstons are a terrific find.
You'll like them.'
'I doubt that.' Mutinously, she returned her cup to the trey.
"Then at least try not to show your dislike too obviously,' he
said silkily. 'Save it for me instead, or I'll have to raise their
salaries.' He paused. 'Are you going to eat something?'
'I'm not hungry.'
His brows lifted. 'Planning to starve yourself into an early
grave? Or simply become anorexic?'
'Neither,' she said curtly. 'I'm not a breakfast person.'
'I stand corrected.' This time the glance he sent her was openly
amused. 'But maybe you should change your ways , darling.
After all, you need to keep your strength up.'
'I imagine I'm strong enough for your purposes.' Cally lifted
her chin.
'Ouch,' Nick said with perfect amiability, and went on eating
his croissant.
Oh, God, he was so pleased with himself— so enjoying his
triumph, thought Cally, her hands clenching in the folds of her
skirt.
She took a deep breath. 'If it can't be the flat, then maybe
there's somewhere else I can have. For a while. Somewhere of
my own. Some space.' She swallowed. 'One room would do.'
'You'll have the whole house,' he said. 'During the day, at
least. The nights, of course, will be a different matter.' He got
to his feet, dusting his fingers briskly with his napkin, then
dropping it on to the
allowing dial to sink in, then added, 'Now, get dressed—
unless you want me to help you?'
'No.' She bit her lip. 'I can manage.'
The shower seemed to be working better this morning. Nick
had probably given it an executive order, she thought
rebelliously, as she zipped herself into the yellow dress, ran a
curvy brush through her hair, and went to join him in the other
room.
A trolley had just been brought in, and Cally saw grapefruit,
croissants with dishes of butter and preserves, and a t all pot
of coffee.
Nick rose. 'Come and sit down,' he said, indicating the sofa
beside him, and she reluctantly complied.
He put a hand under her chin, surveying her critically. 'I have
to say that you don't look particularly rested."
'I hardly slept at all,' Cally said curtly, jerking her head away.
'I'm not used to sharing a bed— particularly with a man.'
His mouth twisted sardonically. 'Just one of many new
experiences waiting for you, darling.'
She said slowly, 'I hoped—I prayed—that when I woke up
this morning it would all be just a bad dream. Or a cruel joke.'
She swallowed. 'Nick-please tell me that's all it was. Say that
you didn't mean any of the things you said last night. Because
I— I think I've been punished enough.'
'It's straightforward enough,' he said, pouring the coffee. 'And
I meant every word. Give me a child, and in return you'll get
your divorce. What part of that do you not understand?'
She said in a low voice, 'I can't understand how you can bear
to do this to me. It's barbaric'
'Your own behaviour, of course, being so civilised,' Nick
returned mockingly. "Have some coffee, and spare us the
cliché of saying it would choke you.'
Those very words had been on the lip of Cally's tongue, but,
chagrined, she bit them back, and accepted the cup he held out
to her in smouldering silence.
The coffee was surprisingly good, black and strong, putting
heart into her and enabling her to say eventually, 'When we
reach Wylstone I'd like to move back into the courtyard flat—
at first, anyway.'
'I'm afraid that won't be possible.' Nick said without the least
sign of regret as he finished his grapefruit and put d own the
spoon. 'I'd have to evict the Thurstons, and they wouldn't be
happy about it.'
Cally frowned. 'The Thurstons?'
'The couple who work for me.' He chose a croissant from the
dish.
'What happened to Mrs Bridges?' She was astounded. Sir
Ranald's housekeeper had been there for years— almost part
of the fabric of the building.
His mouth quirked in faint amusement. 'She preferred to
follow Adele into exile. But the Thurstons are a terrific find.
You'll like them.'
'I doubt that.' Mutinously, she returned her cup to the trey.
"Then at least try not to show your dislike too obviously,' he
said silkily. 'Save it for me instead, or I'll have to raise their
salaries.' He paused. 'Are you going to eat something?'
'I'm not hungry.'
His brows lifted. 'Planning to starve yourself into an early
grave? Or simply become anorexic?'
'Neither,' she said curtly. 'I'm not a breakfast person.'
'I stand corrected.' This time the glance he sent her was openly
amused. 'But maybe you should change your ways , darling.
After all, you need to keep your strength up.'
'I imagine I'm strong enough for your purposes.' Cally lifted
her chin.
'Ouch,' Nick said with perfect amiability, and went on eating
his croissant.
Oh, God, he was so pleased with himself— so enjoying his
triumph, thought Cally, her hands clenching in the folds of her
skirt.
She took a deep breath. 'If it can't be the flat, then maybe
there's somewhere else I can have. For a while. Somewhere of
my own. Some space.' She swallowed. 'One room would do.'
'You'll have the whole house,' he said. 'During the day, at
least. The nights, of course, will be a different matter.' He got
to his feet, dusting his fingers briskly with his napkin, then
dropping it on to the
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