They’ve got a date—at the altar!

International bestselling author Carole Mortimer has written more than 115 books, and now Mills & Boon Presents® is proud to unveil her sensational new CALENDAR BRIDES trilogy.

Meet the Calendar sisters:

January—is she too proud to become a wife?

March—can any man tame this free spirit?

May—will she meet her match?

These women are beautiful, proud and spirited—and now they have three rich, powerful and incredibly sexy tycoons ready to claim them as their brides!

The Unwilling Mistress
Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘GOOD morning,’ a voice greeted cheerfully, quickly followed by a more tentative, ‘er—again…?’

March closed the folder containing the figures she had been frowning over, not at all happy with what she saw there, taking several seconds to automatically assume the polite smile reserved for the clients entering the estate agency where she worked.

Although that polite smile turned back to a frown as she looked up and realized the reason for the man’s second tentative query.

It certainly was ‘again’, wasn’t it?

She sat back in her chair, her gaze rueful now as she looked up derisively at the man standing in front of her desk.

Under any other circumstances she would have found this man extremely good-looking.

Very tall, probably aged in his mid-thirties, with a tangible air of self-confidence, he had slightly overlong silver-blond hair, with hard, sculptured features, his eyes the colour of sky on a clear summer’s day—which today certainly wasn’t!

It was snowing outside—and not half an hour ago this man had neatly slipped into the car-parking space directly outside here that March had been about to parallel-park into!

The politeness of her role as Receptionist in this busy estate agency, and indignation that instead of being able to park outside she had had to park half a mile away and walk back through the snow, warred inside her.

The latter easily won!

‘Correct me if I’m wrong,’ she bit out caustically, ‘but the last time we saw each other I believe you ensured that I would not have a good start to my morning!’

The man gave a pained wince. ‘You remember me.’

March eyed him scathingly. She was hardly likely to forget him!

She had been absolutely furious earlier when she’d turned to begin her parallel park and seen this man neatly driving his red sports car into the space instead. If she hadn’t already been late for work, due to the bad weather, she would probably have got out of the car and told him exactly what she thought of him. Instead she had driven around for ten minutes trying to find another parking spot, and then had to trudge all the way back in the falling snow. All the time cursing this man for his inconsideration!

The fact that the powerful red sports car had still been parked outside when she’d got back here had only added insult to injury.

Although the reason he had chosen to park in that particular spot was made obvious by the fact that he had now come into the agency. After wasting time by wandering to the newsagent’s two doors down, if the newspaper under his arm was anything to go by. Well, it was his own fault if he had had to wait for her to open up for business; she wouldn’t have arrived late at all if he hadn’t stolen her parking space!

The man gave her a quizzical smile. ‘We do seem to have got off to rather a bad start,’ he acknowledged ruefully.

Yes, they had, but he was obviously a customer, and she was the only one to have arrived in the office so far this morning.

March forced herself to once again smile politely. ‘How may I help you, Mr…?’

‘Davenport,’ he supplied lightly. ‘Will Davenport. Mind if I sit down—March?’ he prompted after a glance at the name tag on the lapel of her suit jacket.

‘That’s what the chairs are for—Mr Davenport,’ she pointed out dryly.

He lowered his long length into the chair opposite hers. ‘Tell me, March,’ he drawled, ‘is everyone here as friendly as you?’ A derisive smile curved his own lips now as he eyed her mockingly across the width of the desk.

March felt the colour warm her cheeks at this deliberate rebuke. Probably deserved, she allowed grudgingly. Although that didn’t excuse his own high-handedness earlier.

‘Only when they’ve had their parking space usurped!’ she returned sharply.

He grinned unabashedly. ‘I live in London.’ He shrugged broad shoulders beneath the navy-blue sweater and thick overjacket he wore. ‘Parking spaces there are up for grabs to the first taker!’

March felt slightly disarmed by that grin. He really was very good-looking, that overlong silver-blond hair falling endearingly over his forehead, laughter lurking in those deep blue eyes, the hardness of his features softened by the grin too.

But the fact that this man was breathtakingly handsome really wasn’t the point, was it?

‘I was the first taker!’ she reminded impatiently.

He gave an irritated frown now. ‘Perhaps we could move on?’

Yes, perhaps they had better. Clive, when he finally did put in an appearance, wouldn’t be too happy with her for alienating a customer—perhaps their only customer on a day like today!

March drew in a deeply controlling breath, straightening some folders on her desk before forcing herself to resume that polite smile. ‘Are you interested in buying a property in the area, Mr Davenport?’

‘No.’

Her eyes widened, grey-green eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes, the same colour as her below-shoulder-length hair. If he wasn’t interested in buying a property, then why—?

‘I’m looking to rent a place for a couple of weeks,’ he added mockingly.

Her brow cleared at this explanation. ‘For the summer?’ She stood up, moving to the filing cabinet behind her. ‘We have some rather lovely cottages—’

‘No, not for the summer. For now,’ Will Davenport corrected even as she pulled open a drawer.

March turned back to him with raised brows before glancing frowningly at the snow still falling outside. It was January, for goodness’ sake, none of the people they had on their books rented the cottages out in winter—mainly because very few of the properties actually had any heating in them, apart from an open fire.

‘I’m in the area on business for a few weeks.’ Will Davenport obviously took pity on her confusion. ‘I’m booked into a hotel at the moment, but I hate their impersonality,’ he added with a grimace.

March really wouldn’t know whether hotels were impersonal or otherwise, never having stayed in one. Living on a farm, the middle one of three sisters, brought up alone by their father since March was four, there had been very little money to spare for things like holidays. And since their father died last year, that situation had only worsened.

She suddenly became aware of the completely male assessment of Will Davenport’s gaze as he studied her, from the top of her ebony head to the soles of her heeled shoes.

At twenty-six, she was tall and slender, with long shapely legs, smartly dressed in a navy-blue suit matched with a lighter blue jumper, pale magnolia skin, her make-up light, her lip-gloss peach, only the pointed determination of her chin indicative of the stubbornness of her nature.

Although Will Davenport obviously liked what he saw, his smile warmly appreciative now as he gave a mocking acknowledgement of his head at her questioning look.

Well, really!

He had literally pushed—parked!—his way into her life—and now he was looking at her as if she were the tastiest thing on the menu!

March moved abruptly to resume her seat behind the desk, glaring across at him as she wondered how much longer Clive and Michelle were going to be; quite frankly, she had had enough of trying to deal with Will Davenport for one day.

Clive Carter and Michelle Jones were not only partners in the estate agency of Carter and Jones, but they also lived together on the outskirts of town. The fact that neither of them had arrived yet had to mean that the snow was delaying both of them. More was the pity!

As the receptionist, March usually only answered the telephone and passed clients on to either Clive or Michelle. Something she really wished she could do with this particular client!

‘I’m afraid Mr Carter and Miss Jones aren’t in the office at the moment,’ she began crisply.

‘I think I can see that for myself, March,’ Will Davenport drawled mockingly.

March flushed irritably at his obvious sarcasm. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I think it would be better if you called back later and spoke to one of them,’ she snapped, grey-green eyes flashing a warning of her rising temper.

His mouth twisted. ‘You aren’t qualified to show me details of any properties for rent in the area?’

If he was meaning to be insulting—and he probably was!—then he was succeeding.

March frowned. ‘Of course I can show you the properties, Mr Davenport—’

‘Then perhaps you had better do so,’ he suggested dryly.

March drew in a deeply controlling breath as she desperately tried to resist the urge she had to wipe that confidently mocking smile right off that sculptured mouth!

The man was infuriating! Not only that, he was arrogant, mocking, and he had the cheek to—

Wait a minute… He was looking for somewhere to rent. She might just have the perfect place for him, at that!

Will wasn’t sure he altogether liked the cat-who-had-swallowed-the-cream smile now curving March’s lips. As if she knew something he didn’t…

Not that he could altogether blame her for being initially annoyed with him—he had taken her parking space earlier, something that had obviously infuriated her.

He had felt more than a little guilty about that when he’d entered the estate agent’s a short time ago and recognized her as she sat behind the desk, but that guilt had since turned to admiration. March was absolutely beautiful when angry. Those unusual grey-green eyes sparkled with the emotion, her pale skin having a blushing hue, as for her mouth—!

But he wasn’t quite so comfortable with that quietly satisfied look on her face now…

‘Tell me, Mr Davenport…’ she leant across the desk confidingly ‘…are you particularly looking for somewhere here in town, or would somewhere further out be of any interest to you?’

Will eyed her warily. ‘That depends in which direction out it was,’ he answered guardedly.

As far as he was concerned, the job he did was completely harmless, moreover he was completely professional, but he had learnt from experience that not everyone looked on it in the same way. The fewer people who knew the reason for his presence in the area, the better it would be. For the moment.

‘Over towards the village of Paxton,’ March told him lightly. ‘If you don’t know where that is—’

‘I do,’ he cut in lightly. ‘Towards Paxton would be perfect.’

March looked startled. ‘It would…?’

‘Perfect,’ he repeated mockingly.

She could have no idea how perfect. In fact, it was exactly where he wanted to be. Staying in the area would mean he wouldn’t have to keep driving out there, could blend into the scenery more easily, and so not make himself quite so conspicuous to the locals. Certain locals in particular!

March looked a little less certain now. ‘The property I have in mind is on a farm in the area, not a cottage but a studio-conversion over a garage.’

‘Sounds good.’ He nodded. ‘When can I see it? I would really like to check out of the hotel and get moved in as quickly as possible,’ he added briskly at her surprised look.

She blinked at his decisiveness. ‘I’m not completely sure that the owners would be interested in a winter let, so I would have to call them first and check—’

‘Go ahead,’ he invited smoothly.

March looked totally nonplussed now. Obviously she wasn’t used to things moving quite this quickly. Well, she would have to get used to it, because Will didn’t have any time to waste, wanted to get the job done, and then get the hell out of Dodge City. Before anyone started baying for his blood!

‘Time is money, March,’ he prompted dryly.

She blinked, her expression suddenly becoming wistful. ‘My father used to say that,’ she explained huskily at his questioning look.

‘Used to?’ Will repeated softly.

March sat up straighter in her chair, that flush returning to her cheeks, as if she had said too much. ‘He died,’ she bit out abruptly, at the same time picking up the telephone. ‘I’ll call the farm now,’ she told him curtly.

Will watched March rather than listened to her conversation. She really was beautiful. Perhaps his time in Yorkshire wasn’t going to be quite as lonely as he had initially thought. If he could get past the prejudice she felt towards him because he had ‘usurped her parking spot’, that was!

‘Will one-thirty suit you for viewing, Mr Davenport?’ March looked enquiringly across the desk at him, her hand over the mouthpiece as she spoke. ‘Even farmers stop for lunch,’ she informed him dryly as he raised blond brows.

‘Fine,’ he snapped, knowing she was deliberately mocking him.

Was it so obvious that he had been born and lived in cities all his life? Probably. But he liked what he had seen of Yorkshire so far, and this part of the county was particularly beautiful.

Although he still had that niggling feeling that there was something not quite right about the property March was sending him to see. Perhaps the farmer had a particularly fierce bull he liked to set on strangers? Or perhaps a pack of hounds? Or perhaps she just found the idea amusing of placing Will, a man obviously used to the amenities of the city, on a farm?

It might be at that; as far as he was aware, he had never set foot on a farm in his life. But there was a first time for everything, and from the sound of it, the location was perfect…

‘That’s settled then, Mr Davenport,’ March told him briskly as she ended the call, writing an address down on a piece of paper before handing it to him. ‘I’m sure that either Mr Carter or Miss Jones would be only too pleased to accompany you—’

‘No, thanks,’ he cut in briskly. ‘I would rather find my own way around.’

She nodded. ‘But please feel free to call back and speak to either Mr Carter or Miss Jones if you find this particular rental unsuitable for your needs.’

Giving Will the clear impression that she already knew it wasn’t going to be!

Which only incited him into wanting to take that satisfied little smile off her beautiful face! ‘March, would you have dinner with me this evening?’

He almost laughed at the sudden stunned look on her face. Almost. Because even as he made the invitation he knew that he really did want her to have dinner with him…!

She was prickly and outspoken, absolutely nothing like a receptionist greeting the general public should be, but at the same time he liked her outspokenness, that sparkle in her eyes, and her beauty was indisputable.

She seemed to gather her scattered wits together with effort, straightening in her chair even as she began to shake her head. ‘I don’t think so, thank you, Mr Davenport,’ she refused tautly, those dark lashed grey-green eyes sparkling with indignation now.

He quirked blond brows. ‘No taking pity on a stranger in the area?’

Her mouth twisted derisively. ‘Being a stranger here, you may not have heard, Mr Davenport, but we had a stalker in the area until he was caught quite recently.’

As it happened, Will had heard—although he wasn’t quite sure he liked her implication!

‘As I recall, the man was a local,’ he reminded dryly.

‘Yes, he was,’ she confirmed abruptly, her cheeks pale now. ‘But that’s all the more reason to be doubly wary of strangers.’

He gave an acknowledging inclination of his head. ‘Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow and ask again—I won’t be a stranger then!’

March gave the ghost of a smile. ‘You can try,’ she challenged.

But he would be wasting his time, her words clearly implied. Pity. He would have liked to get to know her better.

‘Thanks, anyway, March.’ He stood up to leave. ‘I’m expected at one-thirty, you said?’

‘Lunchtime,’ she confirmed dryly.

Good, that would give him time to complete the other business he had in town. Although, so far, that was proving more difficult than he had imagined.

He turned back to March. ‘I don’t suppose—no,’ he answered his own question, shaking his head ruefully. ‘Sorry.’ He grimaced at her enquiring look. ‘I’m making enquiries about a friend of mine who was staying at the hotel until a few days ago, but as he was another stranger, I don’t suppose you would know anything about him, either!’

March eyed him mockingly. ‘I don’t suppose I would.’

Will grinned. ‘Never at a loss for words, are you?’ he said admiringly.

‘Only when invited out to dinner by a complete stranger,’ she mocked her own momentary lack of composure a few minutes ago when he’d made the invitation.

He chuckled softly. ‘It isn’t too late to change your mind about that…?’

‘I’ll pass, thanks,’ she returned smilingly, her attention distracted behind him at that moment as the bell rang over the door to announce a new arrival.

‘Thanks for this, March.’ Will held up the piece of paper with the address on it. ‘You can have my parking space now, if you want it,’ he added goadingly.

March gave him a look from beneath deliberately frowning brows. ‘I believe that was my parking space, Mr Davenport—and I won’t bother now, if you don’t mind.’ She laughed in spite of herself.

Will nodded politely to the man and woman who had just entered, deciding from their business suits, and general air of ownership, that they were probably the Mr Carter and Miss Jones that March kept referring to.

He glanced back inside before driving away, raising a hand in parting to March as he saw she was looking out of the window at him, too. Still with that self-satisfied smile curving her lips, the little minx.

Pity she had turned down his dinner invitation. Although, perhaps with the controversial circumstances of his being in the area, it was probably better not to involve her.

From what he had already been told, he was going to have enough trouble with certain members of the community, without becoming personally involved with another one of them.

As Max appeared to have done…

CHAPTER TWO

MARCH wasn’t in the least surprised to see the powerful red sports car still parked in the yard when she arrived at the farm that afternoon shortly before two. In fact, she had counted on it!

Will Davenport, with his good looks and air of sophistication—his lack of apology for taking her parking spot!—had totally rubbed her up the wrong way this morning. Well, the boot was on the other foot now—as he was shortly going to realize.

Wednesday was half-day at the agency, a fact she had been very aware of when she’d made the appointment for Will Davenport to view this rented accommodation at one-thirty.

‘You really didn’t have to bother to come all the way out here, you know,’ Will Davenport’s unmistakable voice drawled from behind March as she turned to get her bag from the back of the car. ‘I did tell you I would be able to manage for myself,’ he added with confident dismissal.

March slowly straightened before turning to give him a mocking smile. ‘And have you?’ she taunted.

‘Of course.’ Will stepped aside so that the person standing behind him was now visible. ‘Apart from signing on the dotted line, I believe May and I have settled everything.’ He grinned his satisfaction.

March turned to the young woman who now stood beside Will. ‘I don’t think we have a dotted line for Will to sign on, do we, May?’ she prompted lightly.

Her sister smiled. ‘Not that I’m aware of, no,’ she drawled, at the same time now giving March a quizzical look.

May, as the eldest of the three sisters, had always been the more level-headed one too; it didn’t need two guesses to know that she was not going to be pleased with March for the little trick she had played on Will Davenport today.

Never mind; it had been worth it—just to see the puzzled expression as his gaze moved frowningly between the two sisters!

‘“We”?’ he finally prompted slowly, his expression wary now.

March gave a satisfied grin. ‘I didn’t come here to check up on you, Mr Davenport—I happen to live here!’ she took great delight in telling him.

To say he looked stunned by this disclosure had to be an understatement; he looked as if someone had just punched him between the eyes!

Yes, he looked stunned—and something else, March realized as his expression instantly became guarded. She had thought, from the little she had seen of him, that once Will got over the surprise at learning that it was her family farm she had sent him to, he would laugh about the situation. But obviously she had misjudged his sense of humour, because he certainly didn’t look as if he felt much like laughing.

‘It was only a joke, Mr Davenport,’ she told him ruefully. ‘Not a very clever one at that,’ she allowed dryly.

‘After all, we do have the studio for rent, and you did say you were looking for somewhere in the area…’ She trailed off as she could tell that, far from seeing the funny side of the situation, he was now frowning darkly.

‘The two of you are sisters,’ he realized woodenly.

‘I don’t think you get any Brownie points for guessing that!’ March grinned as she moved to stand next to May, the likeness between the two women more than obvious, both tall and dark-haired, their features similar, only the eyes a different colour, May’s a clear emerald-green.

Will Davenport didn’t return her smile. In fact, he seemed momentarily at a loss for words.

‘Why don’t you come into the farmhouse and have a nice cup of tea, Mr Davenport?’ May briskly took charge of the situation, shooting March another reproving look as she took hold of Will’s arm to urge him towards the house.

March followed slowly behind them. Some people just didn’t have a sense of humour, she decided scornfully. It had only been a joke, for goodness’ sake. And he had seemed to like the studio well enough before he’d realized she lived here too.

Maybe that was his problem, she realized a little disgruntledly. Perhaps he thought she might try to follow up on his earlier dinner invitation? That she had done this for some hidden reason of her own?

Well, he needn’t worry, she had no intention of bothering him even if he did move into the studio for a couple of weeks; she was out at work all day, and busy with chores about the farm the rest of the time. Besides, she had the distinct feeling that Will Davenport was way out of her league…

‘Put the kettle on, March,’ her sister instructed firmly once they were in the warmth of the kitchen, Will Davenport still not looking any happier as he sat at the kitchen table. ‘You obviously had no idea that this was March’s home, too?’ May prompted as she sat down opposite him.

‘None at all.’ He seemed to rouse himself out of his stupor for a few seconds as he looked up at March. ‘You would be March Calendar?’

She grinned. ‘I certainly would.’

May frowned across at March before turning her attention back to their visitor. ‘My sister sometimes has a warped sense of humour—’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ March cut in impatiently.

‘It was only a little joke. What possible difference can it make that I live here too?’ she added irritably.

May sighed. ‘Well, if I were in Will’s shoes—’

‘Which you obviously aren’t,’ March taunted; Will Davenport’s shoes, indeed all his clothes, looked much more expensive than anything they could afford!

Her sister glared at her. ‘March, when are you going to learn that you just can’t do things like this? You’re twenty-six years old, for goodness’ sake, not six!’

Her cheeks became flushed at her sister’s rebuke. ‘It was a joke,’ she repeated incredulously.

‘It may have been—’

‘It really is all right, May,’ Will Davenport cut in lightly. ‘March was just settling a score from this morning. Right?’ He looked at her with narrowed blue eyes.

March shrugged. ‘Well, I thought it was funny,’ she muttered disgustedly.

And, no matter what May might say, it was funny. But March also knew the reason for May’s concern; the money they would receive from letting the studio for two weeks would come in very handy. Any extra money always came in handy on a small farm like this one!

Will Davenport seemed to visibly relax. ‘It was. It is.’ He nodded ruefully. ‘You see, May, I rather inconvenienced March this morning by “usurping” her parking space,’ he explained wryly, at the same time shooting March a derisive look. ‘This was obviously pay-back time.’ His gaze was mocking on March now. ‘Well, I’m afraid the joke is on you, March—because I have every intention of renting the studio for a couple of weeks. If that’s okay with you?’ He turned back to May.

‘Hey, I live here too,’ March defended ruefully.

‘I think we’re now all well aware of that fact!’ May bit out impatiently.

Will Davenport began to smile, the smile turning into a chuckle. ‘I think I’m going to enjoy my stay here, after all,’ he murmured appreciatively.

‘How could you have doubted it?’ March came back mockingly, more than a little relieved that he had decided to stay after all; May really would never have forgiven her if he had decided not to simply because of the joke she had played on him.

‘Only too easily, I would have thought,’ May snapped, but she was smiling too now.

‘I was thinking of moving in later this afternoon, if that’s okay?’ their new paying guest prompted lightly.

‘He hates staying in hotels,’ March put in derisively.

‘Of course it’s okay for you to move in today,’ May confirmed. ‘The studio should be thoroughly warm by this evening,’ she added apologetically.

Something it obviously wasn’t yet. Despite March’s prompt call earlier so that May could go over and switch on the heating for their visitor. The studio hadn’t been used since last summer, and so there hadn’t been any heating on over there, either.

‘Although you might prefer to come over and have dinner with us just for this evening?’ May continued frowningly.

Now that was just going too far in March’s opinion. The man was supposed to be renting the studio, completely independent of them and the farm, not moving in with them!

Will Davenport sat back in his chair to shoot her a knowing smile—as if he were only too well aware of what she was thinking. Which he probably was; she never had been any good at hiding her feelings! And with this man, someone who wouldn’t be around long enough to matter, she didn’t see why she should bother…

‘How about that, March?’ he drawled mockingly. ‘We can have dinner together, after all!’

Oh, goody—she didn’t think!

‘Will invited me out to dinner earlier,’ she told May bluntly as her sister looked slightly puzzled by the conversation.

May looked speculative now as she glanced first at Will Davenport and then more closely at March. ‘Really?’ she finally murmured enigmatically.

‘Really!’ March confirmed with a certain amount of resentment; the last thing she wanted was for her eldest sister to start thinking there was actually anything between Will Davenport and herself—because there wasn’t. ‘I said no, of course,’ she said flatly. ‘One can never be too careful, can one?’ she added pointedly.

May turned to Will Davenport. ‘Our younger sister used to sing at a hotel in town and was recently—involved, in the arrest of a man who was attacking people in this area,’ she explained with a grimace.

‘I sincerely hope you’re not implying that I—’

‘No, of course not,’ May laughingly dismissed Will Davenport’s mocking query. ‘It just wasn’t very pleasant, for January, or anyone else, for that matter,’ she added with a frown. ‘In fact, her fiancé has taken her away for a short holiday to get over it.’

‘January?’ Will Davenport echoed ruefully. ‘Your parents certainly liked the names of months for their children, didn’t they?’

‘Personally, I’ve always been rather relieved I wasn’t born in September,’ March put in dryly. ‘I can imagine nothing worse than going through life being called Sept! I suppose August wouldn’t have been too bad—’ She broke off as May spluttered with laughter.

‘That wouldn’t have suited you at all!’ May explained with a grin.

‘No, March suits you perfectly,’ Will Davenport assured her wryly.

March gave him a narrow-eyed look as she placed the mug of tea on the table in front of him.

He returned her gaze with a look that was just too innocent for her liking. ‘I’ve always looked on the month of March as brisk and crisp, the month that blows all the cobwebs away,’ he drawled mockingly.

‘That’s March to a T!’ May confirmed with another laugh.

‘Thanks very much!’ she muttered disgruntledly.

‘You’re welcome.’ Will gave a derisive inclination of his head before turning back to May. ‘Dinner this evening sounds wonderful—if you’re sure I’m not intruding?’

Of course he was intruding. But, as March knew only too well, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the money he would pay them in rent over the next two weeks—once they had paid the commission to Carter and Jones, of course—would be very useful. The roof needed fixing on the barn, for one thing, and there were any number of small jobs about the farm that needed doing.

No, all things considered, she didn’t mind this man ‘intruding’ for two weeks.

Will couldn’t get over the likeness between the two sisters. He probably should have realized the connection when May Calendar had introduced herself on his arrival, but at the time he had had something much more important to occupy his mind.

As it still occupied his mind!

‘You said your sister January is away on holiday with her fiancé at the moment?’ he prompted lightly.

‘Max.’ May nodded with an affectionate smile. ‘It’s been rather a whirlwind romance, but we like him, don’t we, March?’ She looked up at her sister for confirmation.

Giving Will a few seconds’ reprieve to come to terms with this latest piece of information. Max had got himself engaged to one of the Calendar sisters? Well, that certainly explained a lot!

‘We do now,’ March said with satisfaction.

‘Oh?’ Will prompted interestedly.

But not too interestedly, he hoped; he might have walked into the lion’s den by accident—designed by March Calendar herself, if she did but know it!—but he was staying through choice.

He liked these two women. But especially March, with her quirky sense of humour and her outspokenness. It was refreshing to meet someone who said exactly what she thought. Or, if she didn’t exactly say it, looked what she thought.

But he was still stunned by the fact that Max had become so personally involved with this family that he was actually going to marry one of them. Max had been a loner for as long as Will could remember, had always scorned the very idea of love, let alone marriage. Although if January was anything like March and May, perhaps the attraction was understandable…

Yes, he liked these two women, but whether or not they were still going to like him at the end of two weeks was another matter…

‘Just a little family problem,’ May answered him dismissively.

‘Anything I could help with?’ Even as he asked the question Will knew he had gone too far, could see the puzzlement in May’s expression, March’s more openly hostile.

‘Not unless you’re acquainted with Jude Marshall,’ March bit out hardly. ‘Max is a lawyer, originally sent here on Jude Marshall’s behalf to buy our farm,’ she explained at Will’s frowning look. ‘Which we aren’t interested in selling!’ she added with a pointedly determined look in May’s direction.

A look Will was all too aware of. Dissension in the ranks? It certainly looked like it. May’s next words confirmed it.

‘We’re thinking about it, March,’ she told her sister.

‘You might be—but I’m certainly not,’ March snapped, two spots of angry colour now in the paleness of her cheeks.

May sighed before turning back to Will. ‘You’ll have to excuse us, I’m afraid, Mr Davenport—’

‘Will,’ he put in smoothly.

May smiled in acknowledgement. ‘I’m afraid that whether or not we should sell the farm is an ongoing problem at the moment.’ She gave a rueful shake of her head.

‘May thinks we should, and I don’t agree with her,’ March snapped unnecessarily.

‘And what does January think?’ Will was intrigued about the younger sister, in spite of himself. Although he had already guessed at the rift between March and May over the situation…

‘She’ll go along with whatever I decide,’ March announced triumphantly.

‘Whatever you decide?’ he prompted mildly; there were three sisters, shouldn’t they all decide?

‘Yes, you see May is—’

‘I think we’ve bored Mr—Will,’ May corrected at Will’s gently reproving look. ‘We’ve bored him with our problems long enough for one day, March,’ she stated firmly as she stood up. ‘The only thing that Will needs to know is that we definitely won’t be selling the farm during the two weeks he wants to stay here,’ she added lightly.

‘That’s a relief.’ He smiled, preparing to leave as he took May having stood up as his cue to leave. ‘I should be back by about five o’clock, if that’s okay?’

May nodded. ‘The garage beneath the studio is for your use.’

‘Yes.’ March grinned now. ‘One fall of snow and you could lose your little car underneath it!’

What March described as a ‘little car’ was in fact a Ferrari! It was Will’s pride and joy, the culmination of years of hard work. But, he had to admit, March was probably right about the snow! Yorkshire was having a particularly hard winter this year, many people having been snowbound in their homes until the last few days.

He gave a rueful smile. ‘I’ll try to remember that.’ He nodded.

‘Dinner is at seven o’clock,’ May told him briskly as she walked to the door with him.

‘Stew and dumplings tonight, isn’t it, May?’ March put in with a deliberately mocking smile in Will’s direction.

She obviously didn’t see him as a man who normally ate such nourishingly basic fare, and in one way she was probably right; he lived alone, had a busy life, and things like home cooking were not a luxury he could afford. Although he didn’t think March would understand what he meant by that…

‘It sounds wonderful,’ he told May warmly.

‘Just like your old granny used to make?’ March put in tauntingly.

‘March!’ May winced laughingly.

‘Let’s hope so,’ Will answered March dryly. ‘My grandmother is a first-class cook!’ he added challengingly, rewarded with the satisfaction of seeing that superior smile wiped off March’s beautiful face!

‘So was ours, and she taught us all to cook,’ May assured him smilingly, lightly touching the sleeve of his coat in apology for March’s outspokenness.

Strange that it was their grandmother who had taught the three sisters to cook, and not their mother…?

‘There you are, March; something we have in common!’ He grinned across at her.

‘It’s probably the only thing,’ she muttered in reply.

Causing Will’s grin to widen appreciatively. This woman really did have an answer for everything!

‘Any chance of a home-made apple pie to go with the stew and dumplings?’ he prompted hopefully. ‘My grandmother makes the most mouth-watering pastry too,’ he added dryly.

‘Would you like us to get out the best silver and white table linen too?’ March came back impatiently.

He raised mocking blond brows. ‘Not unless it’s what you normally do, no.’

‘Hardly,’ she scorned.

‘It was only a suggestion about the pie.’ He shrugged, laughter gleaming in his eyes at March’s obvious disgust with the whole conversation. ‘Obviously if you can’t make mouth-watering pastry—’

‘Oh, but she can,’ May put in, laughter lurking in her own eyes now as she listened to the exchange with obvious enjoyment. ‘The art of making good pastry is having cold hands, I’m told,’ she added mischievously.

‘“Cold hands warm heart”?’ Will returned teasingly.

‘Let’s leave my heart out of it,’ March put in disgustedly.

Hmm, perhaps they had better, Will agreed with an inward frown. It was one thing to have a little fun at March Calendar’s expense—as she had done earlier with him!—quite another for him to actually become involved with any of the Calendar sisters.

From all accounts, with Max’s recent—surprising!—engagement to January Calendar, his friend had already fallen into that particular trap; he didn’t think Jude would appreciate having Will do it too!

CHAPTER THREE

‘I CAN’T believe I’m actually doing this,’ March muttered as she rolled out the pastry for the apple pie.

May chuckled behind her as she laid the kitchen table for their evening meal.

‘Will Davenport had better eat this after I’ve gone to all this trouble!’ March added disgruntledly.

‘Why did you send him here if you don’t like him?’ May sounded puzzled. ‘Although, personally, I have to say I found him extremely charming.’

March continued to make the pie. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Will Davenport—she did, too much if the truth were told—but there was just something about him… Maybe she was imagining it, but she just had a feeling there was something he wasn’t telling them.

Which was pretty stupid, when she actually thought about it; considering they really knew very little about Will Davenport, not even the reason he was in the area on business, there was a lot they didn’t know about him!

‘I hope the studio is warmer now,’ May added worriedly, glancing out the kitchen window across to the garage/studio.

Will had arrived back at the farm over an hour ago, the lights on above the garage to show his occupancy, although they had seen nothing of the man himself.

Although that was soon going to change, March realized after a brief glance at the clock; in just over half an hour, Will was going to arrive for dinner.

‘Did he say anything to you about why he’s in the area?’ March prompted her sister casually as she cleared away her mess.

‘Just looking around,’ May answered distractedly, obviously still worried about the heating in the studio.

‘At what?’ March turned to her sister frowningly.

May shrugged. ‘He didn’t say.’

‘Why didn’t you ask?’ March sighed frustratedly. ‘I would have done.’

‘I know you would have done.’ Her sister gave a frustrated shake of her head. ‘You didn’t answer my question about why you don’t like him?’ she reminded shrewdly.

‘I don’t have to like the man in order to rent the studio to him,’ March snapped, totally avoiding meeting her sister’s probing gaze.

‘Mercenary.’ May laughed softly.

Not at all. But if she was going to manage to keep the farm at all then the studio would have to be let as much as possible to help pay the way. Which meant she couldn’t be too choosy about whom she let it to!

Until quite recently the three sisters had been unanimous in their determination to keep the farm. But all that had changed in the last few weeks. January had just become engaged to Max, and it was pretty obvious that they weren’t going to wait too long before getting married. And May, whose hobby was acting in the local amateur dramatic society, had recently been spotted by a film director who was interested in casting her in the film he was to make in the summer. Which left only March…

Maybe it didn’t make much sense, or maybe she was just being her normal stubborn self, but March didn’t want to sell the farm to this elusive Jude Marshall just so that he could include it in the neighbouring estate, which he had recently purchased, to make into an extensive health and country club! From the little she had been able to find out, the farm was to become part of the golf club he intended building on the complex. A golf club, for goodness’ sake—when her family had lived and worked on this farm for generations.

March turned from putting the pie in the oven, frowning slightly. ‘Talking about money—’

‘When aren’t we?’ May put in disgustedly.

March smiled in sympathy. ‘For once I wasn’t referring to our own lack of it.’ She grimaced. ‘There’s something going on at the agency that just doesn’t make sense to me. Well, it does. But—’ She broke off as a brief knock sounded on the kitchen door, rapidly followed by Will Davenport’s expected appearance. ‘Never mind,’ March told her sister dismissively. ‘I’ll talk to you about it some other time.’

‘Am I too early?’ Will hesitated in the doorway at March’s glare.

‘Of course not,’ May was the one to answer him welcomingly—cutting off March’s more blunt reply!—quickly pulling Will inside and shutting the door to keep out the cold.

Something March was grateful for, knowing herself overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of uncharacteristic shyness.

She hadn’t really thought that Will Davenport would actually want to rent the studio, had been, as he’d said earlier, just paying him back a little for his ungentlemanly behaviour of this morning. But now that he had decided to rent the studio, after all, she realized just how attracted she was to him.

Which was pretty stupid of her, in the circumstances; Will was only going to be around for a couple of weeks, would then leave to return to heaven knew where. Could even be—that dinner invitation apart!—returning to his wife and children, for all she knew!

But just looking at him beneath lowered lashes was enough to make her heart skip a beat. He was so tall his head almost brushed the beamed ceiling, that silver-blond hair falling endearingly across his forehead, blue eyes gleaming with good humour, lithely attractive in a thick blue sweater and faded blue denims.

Who was Will Davenport? More to the point, what was he doing in the area? Until she at least had the answer to those questions, perhaps she had better err on the side of caution—

Better err on the side of caution! What was wrong with her? Didn’t she have enough on her plate, trying to find ways in which she could keep the farm, without adding the complication of being attracted to Will Davenport?

‘Is that an apple pie I smell cooking?’ He sniffed the air appreciatively, blue eyes gleaming with laughter as he looked across at March challengingly.

Her mouth twisted derisively. ‘Somehow I doubt it,’ she drawled. ‘There is no smell of cooking from an Aga,’ she added as she took pity on his look of disappointment.

‘Your sister does love her little joke, doesn’t she?’ He grimaced at May.

‘More like a twisted sense of humour,’ May murmured affectionately, taking his jacket and hanging it behind the door. ‘I hope eating in the kitchen is okay with you,’ she added frowningly.

‘It happens to be the warmest room in the house,’ March put in bluntly; they always ate in the kitchen, so why apologize for it?

‘This is great,’ Will enthused. ‘Once I’m settled in you must let me return the compliment and give the two of you dinner.’

That was an interesting concept—considering the studio was really only a bathroom, and one other large room that had to serve as kitchen, dining-room and bedroom. Very cosy!

‘At a restaurant,’ Will told March dryly as he was obviously able to read her thoughts.

That was the problem with having a mirror-face—she was completely unable to hide her feelings. But with any luck Will hadn’t been looking at her earlier when she’d inwardly acknowledged just how attractive he was. Although she wouldn’t count on it!

‘Have a glass of wine,’ she bit out abruptly, at the same time placing the glass down on the table ready for him to sit down. Maybe if he sat down the kitchen would no longer feel so cramped.

‘Thanks.’ He moved with fluid grace as he lowered his long length onto one of the kitchen chairs. ‘So which one of you is the artist?’ he prompted interestedly.

March’s hand trembled so much she almost dropped her own glass of wine, looking across at him with widely dilated eyes, the sudden silence in the kitchen seeming oppressive.

Uh oh, looked as if he had put his foot in it again, Will realized with an inward grimace.

Unfortunately, there were so many things he couldn’t discuss with the two Calendar sisters that he had decided to opt for what he’d thought was a neutral subject—only to realize by the tense silence that followed his casual enquiry that he had unwittingly walked into what looked like a minefield.

‘Or perhaps I’m mistaken in thinking it was ever an artist’s studio,’ he continued evenly, knowing he wasn’t mistaken at all.

His look around the studio at lunchtime had only been cursory, enough to tell him that it would be more than comfortable enough for the couple of weeks he intended staying in the area. A more leisurely mooch around on his return this evening had shown him the huge windows along one wall to allow in the maximum amount of light, pulling down the ladder to go up into the attic, that brief glance enough for him to have seen a paint-daubed easel and the stack of paintings against one wall.

He hadn’t actually intruded any further than that brief look—and from the look of consternation now on May’s face, the openly accusing one on March’s, he was glad that he hadn’t!

‘I was,’ March snapped coldly, her beautiful eyes now the grey-green of a wintry storm-tossed sea.

‘Was?’ Will echoed softly—dangerously? March certainly didn’t look as if she cared to discuss the subject any further!

‘She still is,’ May briskly broke the awkwardness of the moment.

‘No-I-am-not,’ March bit out forcefully.

Ouch. He really had put his foot in it this time, hadn’t he? It wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with. Well educated, known and respected in his own field, he was accustomed to talking comfortably and confidently on any subject that came along. But not, apparently, when it came to the Calendar sisters!

He took a sip of his wine, giving March the time she needed to get past whatever the problem was, at the same time aware of the effort it took her to release the sudden tension she had been under. But why? So she painted in her spare time—what was the big deal?

‘More wine, Will?’ May offered, holding up the bottle invitingly.

‘Thanks,’ he accepted gratefully.

‘The apple pie, March,’ May prompted quietly.

Will waited until the younger Calendar sister had turned to the Aga before looking up at May with raised brows. She gave a barely perceptible shake of her head, enough to confirm that the subject of those paintings in the attic was not one he should pursue.

Not that he had intended doing so, anyway; March was prickly enough already, without adding to the problem.

Although his own curiosity about those paintings had certainly been piqued. What was wrong with them? Were they so amateurish that March simply didn’t choose to discuss them?

Would he be violating his role as a temporary lodger if he were to go back up into the attic and take a look at them?

Probably, he acknowledged with an inner grimace. But he knew he wanted to take a look at them, anyway.

‘You rented the studio, Mr Davenport,’ March snapped as she seemed to read some of his thoughts now. ‘At no time were you told that rental included the right to snoop around in the attic above.’

‘March!’ May muttered in obvious embarrassment at her sister’s rudeness.

‘It’s all right, May,’ Will assured her smoothly before turning back to March. ‘I wasn’t aware of that, March, but now that I am…’ He shrugged, reluctant to actually state that he wouldn’t intrude on the attic again, his curiosity well and truly roused now.

‘Let’s eat, hmm.’ May seemed more than a little flustered by this sudden awkwardness.

As well she might be. Will had thought March Calendar completely uncomplicated, her emotions totally readable—even that brief moment of complete awareness of him she had felt when he’d arrived earlier!—but now he saw there was much more to her than that. Intriguing…

Was this the way it had been for Max? Had he also arrived here and taken the Calendar sisters at face value: beautiful, friendly, uncomplicated—only to find that they were all so much more than that? January Calendar certainly must be to have captivated Max, to Will’s knowledge a confirmed bachelor, into falling in love with her.

Although the fact that Max was now engaged to marry the younger Calendar sister seemed to imply he was more than happy with the arrangement!

Will’s smile faded somewhat as he realized he still had to find a way of breaking that little piece of news to Jude…

Although his good humour was somewhat restored by the aroma, and then the taste, of the promised stew and dumplings.

‘Just like Granny makes?’ March teased after his first mouth-watering taste, obviously not a woman who continued to bear a grudge, this morning’s debacle over the parking space excepted.

‘Better,’ he assured warmly. ‘Although don’t ever tell her I said that, will you?’ He grimaced.

She gave him a derisive glance. ‘Somehow, I very much doubt the opportunity will ever arise!’

No, of course it wouldn’t. Will had no idea what had even prompted him to say that.

March laughed at his confused expression, her earlier tension well and truly forgotten as she looked at him mockingly. ‘Don’t look so worried, Will; personally, I’ve always thought that old adage “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” was a load of rubbish! If a man’s only interested in what you can cook him for his dinner then forget it!’

He couldn’t help chuckling at her disgusted expression. ‘Maybe he’ll be able to cook for you instead?’

‘Now that sounds promising!’ March said dryly.

‘Do you cook, Will?’ May put in mischievously.

Not quite the innocent peacemaker he had assumed after all, Will acknowledged with a rueful smile in May’s direction.

‘Tell me,’ he murmured consideringly, ‘are all the men in the area blind, deaf, and stupid? I can’t believe you weren’t all married years ago,’ he explained at May’s questioning look, a glance at the left hand of both women having shown them to both be unadorned by rings, and January Calendar had only recently—very recently!—become engaged to Max.

March grimaced at the comment. ‘Maybe we’re the ones who aren’t interested,’ she challenged.

And maybe three Calendar sisters were two too many? Although Max didn’t seem to have had too much trouble getting past that particular problem!

‘Good point,’ Will dismissed, realizing the conversation was becoming altogether too personal.

He had wondered earlier whether accepting this dinner invitation was a good idea, knowing it would be better for all of them if he maintained a certain distance from the Calendar sisters. But March’s obvious reluctance for him to accept the invitation had been enough to prompt him into doing exactly that!

What else might he feel goaded into doing before his time came to leave…?

‘So if January is the singer in the family—’ that little fact had been confirmed for him at the hotel earlier, and he’d even been able to view one of the publicity photographs of January used by the hotel; January Calendar was as beautiful as her two sisters ‘—and March works in the estate agent’s, that must mean that you’re the full-time farmer?’ he prompted May curiously.

Farming seemed a very strange choice of career for any of these beautiful women, but Will knew for a fact, from the Calendar sisters themselves, but also from Jude, that they absolutely refused to sell the farm. At least, March did…

‘Not exactly,’ May laughed dismissively. ‘You see—’

‘May is an actress,’ March put in with a proud smile in her sister’s direction. ‘She’s been offered a part in a film—’

‘Not yet, I haven’t.’ May looked embarrassed. ‘Besides, March, I told you I haven’t made my mind up yet about even going for the screen test.’ She frowned at her sister reprovingly.

Will had a feeling that was something May had probably done a lot of over the years where the outspoken March was concerned!

‘An actress?’ he prompted interestedly. January was a singer, March was probably—no matter what she might claim to the contrary!—a good artist, and now it seemed that May acted; he couldn’t help wondering how three young women obviously brought up on a farm could be so artistically gifted in such different ways.

But if May were to disappear for some time in order to make a film, that probably explained the current rift between the sisters concerning the selling of the farm. It was a start, at least…

‘It isn’t official yet.’ May looked extremely uncomfortable. ‘I have to go for a screen test next month—’

‘A mere technicality,’ March dismissed airily. ‘You’re going to walk through it,’ she added with certainty. ‘My sister is an extremely good actress,’ she told Will proudly.

Something March, with her see-through face, could never be!

From the derisive smile March now directed at him he wasn’t doing too good a job of hiding his own thoughts at the moment, either!

‘Sorry.’ But even as he made the apology he couldn’t hold back his amused chuckle.

‘No, you’re not,’ March acknowledged disgustedly, standing up to clear away the empty plates.

Will stood up too, moving across the kitchen to where March stood filling up the sink with soapy water. ‘If I offer to help with the washing-up will I be forgiven?’ he prompted huskily.

‘Knowing how much March hates washing up—I wouldn’t be at all surprised!’ May was the one to answer him dryly.

But Will barely heard her reply, his breath suddenly caught in his chest as he found himself held mesmerized by March’s luminous grey-green gaze as she turned to look up at him.

Her skin was like alabaster, smooth and creamy white, her mouth wide and sensuous, her neck arched with the delicacy of a swan, the baggy green jumper and fitted black denims she wore doing nothing to hide the allure of her slender body. A body he had been completely aware of from the moment he’d entered the farmhouse half an hour ago…

Once again Will found himself wondering if this was the way it had been for Max. A sudden, driving desire, a numbing of every other sense and sensation except this intense, spine-tingling awareness—

No!

Will wrenched his gaze away from March’s, physically stepping away from her too, turning his back on her to further break the spell of sensuality that had briefly held him in its grip.

Will, Max and Jude had been at school together, losing touch briefly as they all went off to university to pursue their chosen careers, but those same careers renewing their friendship ten or so years ago. Now, at thirty-seven, despite having enjoyed numerous relationships, none of them had ever married. Somehow, after all this time, Will had assumed that none of them ever would. But Max, the one Will would have sworn was the least likely of the three friends to succumb, had fallen in love with the youngest Calendar sister.

Will did not intend falling into the same trap where March Calendar was concerned!

He drew in a harsh breath. ‘Could I take a rain check on the apple pie?’ he bit out tautly, deliberately speaking to May rather than March. ‘I’ve just realized I have an important telephone call to make.’

‘So much for helping with the washing-up!’ March muttered behind him disgustedly.

It was a little ungrateful of him, he knew, but he needed to get away from here, needed to get some fresh air. Needed to clear his head, and his senses, of March Calendar!

‘Take the pie with you,’ May offered warmly, moving to pick the pie up off the side and place it in his hands.

‘Hey, I like apple pie, too!’ March protested.

‘Will is our guest, March.’ May turned to her sister warningly before giving Will a bright smile. ‘I often think I failed miserably where instilling manners into March was concerned!’ She gave a sorrowful shake of her head.

Once again Will felt himself being drawn into the warmth that was the Calendar sisters, his good humour returning as he smiled at May. ‘March does have a point when she actually made the pie,’ he murmured with a derisive grin in her direction.

‘Oh, take it,’ March dismissed impatiently. ‘You probably don’t have to worry about the calories, anyway!’ she added disgustedly.

Neither did she if the willowy sensuousness of her body was anything to go by—

Not again. Will shook his head self-disgustedly. Okay, so March was beautiful, was quirky and outspoken too, as well as having a curvaceously sensuous body, but was that any reason for him to respond to her with the gaucheness of a callow schoolboy?

No, but it was reason for him to get himself out of here before he did something he would later regret—like kiss that derisive smile right off her pouting lips!

‘I’m afraid there’s no telephone in the studio,’ May pointed out worriedly. ‘But you can use the one here if—’

‘Why doesn’t he just move in here completely? We can charge him bed and breakfast prices then!’ March put in scathingly.

Will’s lips twitched with repressed humour as he saw the way May winced at her younger sister’s bluntness. March really was irrepressible.

And, despite her obvious despair at March’s lack of manners, May was obviously staunchly protective of both her sisters. Making Will wonder how on earth Max, with his reserved haughtiness, had ever got the two older Calendar sisters’ approval to marry their younger sister!

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Will answered smilingly.

‘I have a mobile in the car.’

‘Well, of course you do,’ March snapped derisively.

‘How silly of us not to have realized that.’

May gave a weary shake of her head, obviously deciding that the best thing to do for the moment was to just give up apologizing for March’s lack of manners. ‘Enjoy the pie, Will,’ she murmured ruefully. ‘And if there’s anything else you need, more towels, things like that, you have only to ask.’

‘We’ll send one of the maids over with it immediately,’ March muttered disparagingly.

Will could see by the sudden fire that lit May’s gaze that she wasn’t always the calm, sensible sister, that she could be cutting herself when she felt it necessary. And he had a feeling that she would feel it necessary, where March was concerned, the moment he had gone out the door!

Which was a pity; he really didn’t want to be the reason for any dissent between the two sisters. Even if March deserved it!

‘This pie looks delicious, March, thanks,’ he told her warmly.

She frowned at him suspiciously, but as he calmly returned her gaze that frown eased from between her eyes. ‘You’re welcome,’ she finally murmured lightly.

‘Thanks for dinner, May, it was great.’ Will lingered in the doorway, having absolutely no idea why he was having such trouble getting out of the kitchen now that it was time to go—especially as it was his own decision to do so!

‘Don’t forget to return the compliment,’ March was the one to remind him pointedly.

He hadn’t forgotten his earlier suggestion, Will acknowledged a little dazedly as he made his way back across the yard to the studio—he was just no longer sure he could cope with taking one Calendar sister out to dinner, let alone two!

He felt slightly disorientated after being with them for less than an hour, slightly dazed, as if he had drunk too much wine in a smoke-filled room—how on earth was he going to feel after spending an evening with them?

One thing he did know, he would have to clear his head before making his telephone call to Jude. A Jude, Will knew with certainty, who was going to be far from happy at Max’s obvious defection to the enemy camp…

CHAPTER FOUR

‘IT’S only lunch I’m suggesting, March, not an afternoon in a hotel bedroom!’ Clive looked down at her mockingly as he perched on the edge of her desk.

March knew exactly what the male half of her employers was inviting her to—she also knew he wouldn’t have made the suggestion about the two of them having lunch together if Michelle weren’t out for the day showing a client over several different properties. Besides, she also knew that if Clive thought he could get away with it he would have no hesitation in taking her to a hotel bedroom for the afternoon!

While March was normally blunt to the point of rudeness—as Will Davenport had discovered to his cost the previous evening!—Clive’s attentions over the last six months, whenever Michelle had been out of the office, were something March hadn’t liked to tell her sisters about. There was nothing anyone could do about it, and they needed the money she earned from this full-time job. Besides, she doubted she was the first employee to suffer this sort of harassment.

It wasn’t even that Clive was unattractive, because he wasn’t; the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, with an easy charm as an added bonus. He just also happened to have been living with Michelle, the other half of this estate agency, for the last ten years!

‘I said no, Clive,’ she answered him calmly enough, grey-green gaze glacial as she glared her annoyance at him. For all the good it did. She had been saying no for the last six months, but it didn’t stop Clive from repeating the offer whenever the chance arose. ‘You know very well we can’t just shut up shop for a couple of hours and disappear off to lunch,’ she dismissed briskly. ‘Besides, I—I already have a date for lunch,’ she added with relief, having looked out of the window at that moment and seen a familiar red sports car drive slowly into the square.

Will Davenport’s car, with him sitting confidently behind the wheel as he found a parking space directly behind March’s more serviceable Metro. He gave her a friendly wave as he got out of the car and saw her watching him out of the window.

‘If you’ll excuse me.’ March stood up hurriedly, moving quickly to open the door and call out to Will before he could lock his car and just walk away. ‘I’ll be out in a minute, Will,’ she called out to him lightly, willing him to wait for her.

He turned, a puzzled frown on that handsome face. ‘Sorry?’ He looked totally nonplussed.

‘I’m just getting my coat,’ she told him firmly, aware that Clive had come to stand beside her in the doorway now, a knowing smile curving his lips as he took in the car and the man driving it.

Will turned his cool blue gaze on Clive Carter, that gaze narrowing as he obviously saw the other man’s too familiar stance next to March, his arm resting against the door behind her. ‘No hurry,’ Will answered in measured tones. ‘I’ll come inside and wait for you,’ he added with another speculative glance at Clive.

That wasn’t quite what she had wanted, March realized flusteredly as she made a quick grab for her coat and handbag; having these two men size each other up in silent appraisal was more than a little unnerving. Especially as she could now clearly see the speculation in Clive’s mocking grey eyes.

‘Nice car,’ he murmured softly. ‘A Ferrari, isn’t it?’

A Ferrari? March did a mental double-take on Will herself now. Okay, so she had realized it was a sporty-looking car, but all she basically required from a car was that it start up in the morning when she needed to get to work. But Ferraris cost tens of thousands of pounds, didn’t they? Maybe there was more to Will Davenport than she had realized!

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