His Irresistible Darling - Sarah Randall Page 0,110

grip—fix the emotional walls which somehow this woman had managed to crack with her quips and teasing. He had strangely enjoyed it but he needed to fix it and quick before the bloody dam broke. He wasn’t ready to have such feelings again yet… if ever. He would be polite but, for the sake of his sanity, that would have to be it. Nothing more. Miss Darling, and the rest of them when they arrived, would be well looked after by Pip and Mrs Henderson. He needed to focus and ensure the forthcoming visit from Jumal went as planned. It hadn’t helped that as yet, this woman had not been the obnoxious, haughty woman that he’d discriminately thought she would be. Instead she had been friendly and outgoing despite his rudeness… and she’d called him on it and made him feel embarrassed and guilty at his behaviour, like a naughty child. Something only Mrs Henderson had ever done since his mother’s death.

Still. No distractions. No matter how annoyingly beautiful… or wonderfully feisty, just like he’d imagined.

Matt parked right outside the front door and quickly jumped out, grabbing her bag from the back seat and freeing George to run around in the snow in circles like a lunatic. Pip and Mrs Henderson came out to greet them at the front door when it suddenly occurred to him that he was sans Miss Tall, Tantalising and Tenacious. He slowly turned his head to see her peering out of the open car door, her brows squeezed together quizzically as she studied the snow like it posed a difficult question… which Miss Mensa could bloody well solve on her own.

He turned back to his family, shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes, but he was met with a disapproving look on Mrs Henderson’s face including hands on her hips which always meant trouble.

He dumped her bag on the floor and let out an exaggerated sigh before stomping back to collect her, muttering all the way about her having no coat and her ridiculous shoes.

She started to sit back into her seat at his approach but he quickly grabbed her around the waist and was secretly pleased at her surprised squeal before she finally grabbed hold of him as he kicked the door closed and carried her back over to her waiting fans and unceremoniously dumped her beside her bag.

“Thanks,” she muttered, sheepishly. “I only have these shoes.”

He was forced to make the introductions. “This is my sister, Pip, and our housekeeper, Mrs Henderson.”

“It’s lovely to meet you both.” Anastacia nodded and smiled, clutching Matt’s coat tighter around her body.

Pip ran forward and grabbed hold of her hand. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here. I’m such a fan.”

She was much younger than Matt, a petite girl with long, dark, glossy locks and sporting a thick rimmed pair of glasses that were fashionable at the moment. She reminded her of a pixie, gorgeous, perfectly proportioned, and full of energy.

“Okay Pip, leave the lass alone. That’s enough,” said the older woman, Mrs Henderson. She was a large woman with silver hair tied back in a neat bun, in her sixties if Ana was to guess. She offered a warm welcoming smile and rubbed her hands on her apron before embracing her in a bear hug, filling her nostrils with the smell of lavender, and she could tell instantly that she would get along well with both women. Unlike the frustrating farmer.

Mrs Henderson took charge and ushered them all into a large entrance hall before calling over her shoulder to Matt, who stood statuesque outside.

“Matt dear, I’ve put Miss Harper in the guest room next to yours. Take her bag up there would you?”

“Call me Anasta—er, Ana , please, Mrs Henderson.” She thought she could hear Matt grumbling as he picked up her bag and stormed into the hall and up the impressive central staircase.

Pip continued to bounce around, a little bit like George, and clapped her hands as Mrs Henderson escorted her into the large, homely, yet surprisingly well equipped modern kitchen with a large wooden table in the middle.

“Mulled wine all round I think, to warm the cockles. Come along.” Mrs Henderson busied herself around the kitchen and insisted that Ana sit down and make herself at home. She almost scoffed at the woman’s words. Home. If only she knew that her starkly boring flat was anything but comforting!

“Now dear, you’re not one of those fussy eaters are you? You know, one of those