Sebastian suspected his sister had underplayed Ruby’s looks because she didn’t want to say anything to stop him hiring the girl. She was an incorrigible matchmaker, his sister, always plotting to find him a new wife. He recalled an argument they’d had not that long ago when he’d refused to come to any more of her infernal dinner parties where, naturally, there was always a single female seated next to him, just panting to give him whatever he wanted.
‘I know you think I’ve been living the life of a monk since Jennifer died,’ he’d thrown at his sister during that phone call. ‘But you’re wrong. Yes, I was celibate for a couple of years. Grief will do that to you. But I can assure you that when I want company, I get it.’
‘But you never date anyone,’ Gloria had argued back. ‘You never bring a woman to my dinner parties. Or home to your place. Georgia told me. You’re always alone.’
‘It is possible to have sex without commitment these days, especially when you’re travelling overseas and interstate a lot and staying in five-star resorts and hotels. I don’t have any trouble.’
‘Well, bully for you. But is that all you want, Sebastian?’
‘Yes, that’s all I want,’ he’d stated gruffly. ‘I’m not interested in falling in love again or having some woman fall in love with me. I like my life the way it is.’
Which he did. He’d worked out a lifestyle that didn’t give him any grief, and he hated the thought of having it messed with. He liked having a sensible middle-aged plain woman as his housekeeper. He liked the feeling of peace that greeted him when he came home each evening. He liked living alone, free of potential pain and emotional conflict.
He did not like the way he felt at this present moment. Not one little bit.
Sebastian swore, then stalked inside, feeling disgruntled, and, yes, very hot indeed. But he didn’t go upstairs and take his suit off. He just took his jacket and tie off, undid the top buttons of his shirt and headed for the kitchen, deciding not to wait for Ruby to make his coffee. He would make his own. He was in the process of doing so when she hurried into the kitchen, dressed in black Bermuda shorts and a black and white striped top, which had a boat neckline and capped sleeves.
Admittedly, with her hair tied back and dressed in ordinary clothes, she wasn’t as distractingly desirable as before. But nothing could stop the memory of how she’d looked in that bikini, with her long dark hair spilling over her shoulders. He was unlikely to ever forget it, or what it did to him.
‘You should have let me do that,’ she said on seeing the coffee was well under way.
‘It’s all right, Ruby,’ he replied, trying to make up in some small way for his earlier abruptness. ‘I can make my own coffee.’
‘But it’s my job, Mr Marshall,’ she protested. ‘Here. You go and relax somewhere and I’ll bring the coffee to you. I know how you like it,’ she added with a smile that was as sweet and as perversely sexy as she still was. ‘Georgia told me.’
When she came right up to where he was standing by the coffee machine, he caught a whiff of something tantalising. The scent wafting from her person was a mixture of coconut and vanilla. Not perfume as such. Possibly shampoo. Without thinking, he leant closer and inhaled, his nose not far from her hair.
Delicious, he thought once again. Everything about her was delicious. Delicious and dangerous and disturbingly tempting!
Gritting his teeth, he whirled around and strode away before he did or said anything seriously stupid. Ruby was, after all, his housekeeper. Which meant she was strictly off-limits.
So why was it that this thought didn’t help dampen what was going on inside him? If anything, her being forbidden fruit made everything harder. Made him harder.
‘I’ll be in my study,’ he called over his shoulder. Lord knew what he was going to do in there.
Get a grip! That’s what you’re going to do, Sebastian. Anyone would think you were a horny teenager, not a forty-year-old man whose libido doesn’t run his life.
Still, maybe I should have slept with that woman in London when I had the chance, he thought as he strode into his study and plonked himself down at his desk. Despite what he’d told Gloria, he didn’t often indulge in casual sex, only when things got to a critical phase with his male hormones.
Clearly, things were getting to a critical phase, if he were to judge by his body’s reactions to Ruby. Okay, she had a great figure and very sexy hair, but Sebastian was used to dealing with seriously beautiful women on a daily basis and, quite frankly, he never had a problem controlling himself around them. Yet the moment he’d laid eyes on Ruby in that bikini he’d got an erection the size of Centrepoint Tower.
Was it just a matter of intense frustration? Of going too long without sex?
He hoped so. Sebastian didn’t like the thought that this attraction could be anything but a case of primal lust. To even contemplate anything else was emotionally disturbing, something which always brought with it a deep sense of alarm.
Emotional disturbances and Sebastian were serious enemies.
Thank goodness this was only a temporary annoyance, he reminded himself sternly for the umpteenth time.
CHAPTER FIVE
RUBY DIDN’T KNOW what to make of her new boss, despite Georgia having filled in a few of the pieces of the puzzle that was Sebastian Marshall.
‘He’s a workaholic,’ she’d told Ruby over the phone. ‘He lives and breathes Harvest Productions, with little time left over for socialising, unless it’s to do with the business.’
When Ruby had asked about the lack of photographs in the house, Georgia had explained that Sebastian—Georgia called him Sebastian—had bought the house fully furnished five years ago and had not changed or introduced a single thing. She’d come with the house, the previous owners having moved overseas to work and sold off everything, including their housekeeper. Georgia said she hadn’t minded as she liked working for Sebastian, who was often away and never brought women home.
‘Never?’ Ruby had asked, surprised.
‘Never. His sister told me he never got over his wife’s death. Apparently, she was the love of his life and died of cancer. About ten years ago, I think.’
‘And there’s been no woman since?’
Ruby found that hard to believe. A handsome man like that. And in the prime of his life.
‘Not that I know of.’
Ruby wondered about that whilst she finished making the coffee. From what she knew about men—especially successful, good-looking ones—he wouldn’t be doing without sex entirely. And if he’d been so devoted to his dead wife, why not put some photos of her around the house? It was as though he were trying to wipe out all memory of her.