Page 5 of His Housekeeper's Twin Baby Confession
She would be in even closer proximity to him at a time when she felt as if she was losing her sense of control around him. It would be madness to go...and yet she didn’t really have a choice.
Nevertheless, she resisted. ‘But won’t you need me here?’
Lord Linden responded easily. ‘You’ve ensured this property runs like clockwork. I think it can do without you for a week or two. As I said, I have an important event to host at my apartment. I would appreciate having someone I trust there to oversee things. You don’t need to worry about the minutiae—my assistant in New York will work to your orders.’
She absorbed this. And then, ‘A week or two?’
He nodded. ‘Until my commitments there are finished. I’m sure that by then my team will have sourced a new housekeeper.’
She said it out loud. ‘I guess I don’t really have a choice?’
He arched a brow. ‘Would it really be so terrible to spend a couple of weeks in New York? You’ll have time off to do whatever you wish.’
Carrie knew that if she said no it would be weird. She was his London housekeeper. What he was asking of her was perfectly reasonable. And it was New York. She’d never travelled much beyond the UK at all.
‘Okay, yes. I’ll go with you.’
Lord Linden said crisply, ‘Good. We’ll be leaving before lunch tomorrow. I trust that’ll be enough time to get your things together and ensure the house is left in good hands?’
‘Of course,’ Carrie answered smoothly.
Maybe this was all in her head and she was just being ridiculous.
‘Very good. That’ll be all, Miss Taylor.’
Carrie hurried out before she made a total fool of herself.
Four years working for this man without a ripple and suddenly it felt as if a storm was brewing.
Carrie had only ever been on a plane a couple of times before, and never on a private jet. She thought she’d become accustomed to luxurious living in Lord Linden’s London house, but the sleek jet mocked her for being so complacent.
The interior was cream and gold. Plush soft carpets. The chair she sat in felt as if it had been contoured especially to fit her body. It was beyond decadent.
She sat towards the front of the jet and Lord Linden sat behind her at a desk with his laptop, working. Throughout the flight she’d been offered any beverage she would like, and a menu featuring the kind of food usually served at one of Lord Linden’s dinner parties. She’d settled for sparkling water.
She was too keyed up to sleep, so she alternated between looking at the clouds out of the window and flicking through a magazine she wasn’t reading. After a couple of hours she noticed that she hadn’t heard the low rumble of Lord Linden’s voice in a while.
Feeling like a voyeur, she sneaked a look behind her and saw that he was sitting—no, sprawling—with long legs stretched out across the aisle under his table, reading a document with a small frown between his eyes.
With his collar open and shirtsleeves rolled up, his hair messy as if he’d run a hand through it, and stubble on his jaw, he looked as if he should be swilling champagne with a beautiful woman on each arm—not reading a report. The man oozed sex appeal in a way that Carrie suspected he didn’t even appreciate.
Oh, he knew he had it—that was obvious in every move he made—but there was something else...an air of jaded insouciance that gave his appeal another edge. He seemed so utterly arrogant and aloof all at once. It was an intoxicating combination, and doubtless one that drew women in droves.
Not her, though. She knew better.
As if sensing her intense focus on him, he looked up, and Carrie was too slow to escape that dark gaze. She gulped and could feel heat rising into her cheeks.
A small voice mocked her.Sure you’re so in control?
His gaze narrowed on her. ‘Everything okay?’
She nodded. ‘Fine...just fine, thank you.’ He put down his sheaf of papers and she said hurriedly, ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, Lord Linden.’
He looked at her steadily. ‘You don’t need to keep calling me Lord Linden.’
She’d been calling him that for four years.
Carrie contained her surprise. ‘I... Okay.’ She couldn’t possibly call him by his name. It reminded her too much of the lovers she had to help dispatch the morning after...’
