‘I told you—I’m not embarrassed.’

Sam moved briskly across the room to drop down to her knees in front of Xander as she began to towel-dry the long length of his legs, taking care to gentle her movements on his injured leg, avoiding the several healing scars running the length of it.

‘Liar,’ he drawled.

Sam looked up at him sharply. ‘I think you have an overinflated opinion of your sexual prowess, Mr Sterne.’

‘Not recently, I don’t,’ he admitted.

The perfect opening … ‘I should have mentioned this to you before.’ Sam kept her head bent as she concentrated on drying his feet. ‘I don’t think … I would prefer it if, for the duration of our stay here, you didn’t …’ She began again. ‘I realise this is an imposition, but I’d prefer it if you refrained from bringing any women to your apartment while I’m here,’ she muttered.

He arched one blond and arrogant brow. ‘Are you going to make it worth my while?’

Sam blinked. ‘Sorry?’

He placed his hands on the bed behind him and leant back, emphasising the muscles of his shoulders and arms as he looked up at her challengingly. ‘What are you offering in exchange?’ he asked, and a smug grin spread across his face.

THE TWIN TYCOONS

Twin billionaire brothers—one dark and brooding, one

blond and charming—which would you choose?

Billionaire brothers Darius and Xander Sterne have it all—

power, wealth, and the world at their beck and call. Never

challenged, always triumphant—nothing is unattainable when you own the world, and they’ve enjoyed every indulgence their affluent status affords. Until now.

Because these twin tycoons are about to learn that there are

some things money and power can’t buy … And that the

greatest challenges net the most satisfying rewards.

Find out what happens in:

THE REDEMPTION OF DARIUS STERNE February 2015

THE TAMING OF XANDER STERNE March 2015

The Taming of Xander Sterne

Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CAROLE MORTIMER was born and lives in the UK. She is married to Peter and they have six sons. She has written almost two hundred books since she started writing for Mills & Boon in 1978. She writes for the Mills & Boon® Modern™ and Historical romance lines. Carole is a USA TODAY Bestselling Author, and in 2012 was recognised by Queen Elizabeth II for her ‘outstanding contribution to literature’.

Our son Peter.

We are so proud of you!

Contents

Cover

Introduction

The Twin Tycoons

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘I APPRECIATE THAT you leave for your honeymoon at the end of the week, Darius, but I seriously do not need you to arrange for a live-in babysitter for me for the two weeks you’re away!’ Xander scowled at his twin brother across the sitting room of his London penthouse apartment.

‘It’s not a babysitter, just someone to help you with things you can’t do yet, like getting in and out of the shower, drying off and dressing, driving.’

‘We have a company driver who can do that.’

‘But there’s no one to help you with the rest of those things,’ his brother reasoned. ‘Or to cook for you.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Darius, it’s been six weeks since I broke my leg.’

‘In three places, requiring two operations to fix. You can’t even stand for longer than ten minutes at a time yet.’ Darius was obviously refusing to back down on this.

Xander eyed him moodily, knowing that everything his brother said was true. ‘This isn’t really about what I can or can’t do, is it?’ He finally sighed resignedly.

Darius stilled. ‘What do you mean?’

‘What I mean is that I don’t have a death wish. Yes, I drove my car when I shouldn’t have, and yes, I ended up crashing into a lamppost and wrecking my car, but thankfully no one else was injured. But I didn’t do it deliberately, Darius. I told you at the time I was just so angry I couldn’t see straight. I was angry, Darius,’ he repeated harshly.

‘Everyone gets angry, Xander,’ Darius said softly.

‘My anger had been building for months.’

‘I know.’

Xander blinked. ‘You do?’

His twin nodded. ‘You were working and playing way too hard. It was as if you were trying to avoid something or someone.’

‘Lot of good that did me.’ If Xander had been capable of pacing the room at that moment, then he would have.

Six weeks ago, for the first time in his life, Xander had realised that he had a temper. Not the slow-burning temper of his brother, but a fiery hot volcano that had exploded out of control, resulting in Xander wanting to beat another man to within an inch of his life.

Admittedly that man had been loudly verbally abusing the woman who had arrived with him that night at the exclusive London nightclub owned by the Sterne brothers. It was a situation reminiscent of Xander’s childhood memories of the way in which his father had treated his mother.

But the desire to hit someone had shaken Xander to his core, to the point that he no longer trusted himself or his responses to situations; he had never wanted to hit anyone in his life before that night. Not even the father who had beaten him when he was a child.

Lomax Sterne had been dead for over twenty years now, after a fall down the stairs of the family’s London home whilst in a drunken stupor. A death that neither his wife nor his twin sons had mourned.

Lomax Sterne had been a brute of a man and a bully, with a temper to match.

And six weeks ago Xander had terrified the life out of himself by discovering that, at the age of thirty-three, he had the same temper.

‘What made you so tense in the first place, do you think?’ Darius looked at him curiously.

Xander grimaced. ‘I don’t know. Yes, I do.’ His brow cleared. ‘Do you remember when we were in Toronto four months ago? Remember the chairman of Bank’s Corporation? We went out to dinner with him and his wife.’

‘And he talked down to her all evening,’ Darius realised ruefully. ‘Which was the reason we both decided we didn’t want to do business with him. And the reason for your pent-up anger these past few months, I’m guessing?’

‘I think it is, yes,’ Xander agreed.

‘You controlled it then, Xander, and you controlled it six weeks ago,’ Darius insisted impatiently. ‘Just let it go. It’s over.’

Xander wished he could dismiss it as easily.

‘I really do appreciate your moving in here the past four weeks, Darius, but I just don’t think I’m up to having someone else, a stranger, living with me right now.’ In truth, Xander had been looking forward to having his apartment all to himself again.

He grimaced. ‘It’s not that I’m ungrateful, Darius. I just didn’t envisage the next two weeks of having to sit across the breakfast table every morning from the no doubt muscle-bound man, Sam Smith, who you’ve employed to act as both my nursemaid and watchdog while you’re away.’

Darius gave a chuckle. ‘It would certainly make the neighbours sit up and take notice, if they thought you were living with a man who isn’t your brother.’

As one of the billionaire Sterne twins, Xander had a playboy reputation with women that had long been catalogued, and speculated about, by the media. So yes, they would no doubt have a field day with the fact that he was sharing his apartment with a man.

‘Fortunately, for you, none of that is going to happen. Samantha Smith is a woman,’ Darius assured him dryly.

Xander sat forward. ‘Sam Smith is a woman!’

‘Nice to know that your hearing wasn’t affected in the accident,’ his twin taunted.

Darius had taken his own sweet time sharing that little nugget of information with him!

Xander scowled. ‘You don’t have to look so happy about leaving me completely at this woman’s mercy for the next two weeks!’

‘I’ll ask her to be gentle with you,’ Darius teased.

‘Very funny,’ Xander muttered distractedly; just the thought of having some strange woman staying here with him filled Xander with a sense of unease. ‘So how is it that you know this woman?’

Darius smiled. ‘She’s a friend of Miranda’s. She really likes her, so much so that she’s asked Sam to work at the dance studio with her part-time once we’re back from our honeymoon. Oh, and her little girl attends one of Miranda’s dance classes.’

‘Stop right there!’ Xander held up a silencing hand, breathing hard in his agitation. ‘You didn’t mention she had a child. What does she plan to do with her daughter while she’s staying here with me?’

‘She’s going to bring her with her, of course,’ his brother dismissed as if there had never been the possibility of anything else.

‘Are you completely insane?’ Xander exploded as he finally struggled up onto his feet with the help of his crutches. ‘Darius, I told you what happened to me at the nightclub six weeks ago. I told you how I lost control of myself, and now you want to bring some child to live with me? How old is Ms Smith’s daughter?’ He knew that Miranda’s ballet school was for pupils from five to sixteen years old.

‘Five, I think.’

‘You plan on allowing this woman to bring a five-year-old child to stay in my apartment with me?’ Xander breathed in deeply in an effort to calm himself. ‘This was Andy’s idea, wasn’t it?’ It was a statement, rather than a question. ‘You told her what happened to me and—’

‘You didn’t say I couldn’t.’ Darius’s eyes had narrowed in warning.

‘I don’t care whether or not you told Andy what happened to me that night,’ Xander dismissed impatiently. ‘After all, she’s going to be your wife and my sister-in-law. What I do care about is that Ms Smith and her daughter coming to stay here is most likely Andy’s way of trying to show me I’m not turning into the monster I think I am. A naive attempt on her part to make me feel better about myself.’

‘Careful, Xander,’ Darius warned softly.

Xander was too annoyed to heed that warning. ‘Life isn’t a fairy tale, Darius. Or, if it is, then I’m the monster in the story and not the prince!’

His brother gave Xander a considering look before speaking softly. ‘You know, Xander, as Miranda once told me, quite succinctly as I recall,’ Darius mused affectionately, ‘the whole of life isn’t about what you do or don’t want.’ He sobered. ‘Putting my mind at rest apart, has it even occurred to you that Samantha Smith is a single parent? And that, as such, she might need the money I’m paying her to come here and act as your babysitter and watchdog while I’m away?’

But what if the woman did something to set off the temper he had only just discovered? What if her daughter did? Darius wouldn’t find anything to laugh about then, would he? And Xander would never forgive himself if he lost his temper with either of them. That truly would make him the monster his father had been.

Darius scowled his displeasure. ‘Look, as far as I’m concerned Miranda vouches for her, and the woman needs the money I’m paying her to come and live here with you while we’re away. End of story.’

Xander didn’t agree.

Yes, this penthouse apartment was big enough for a dozen other people to share it with him without them falling over each other; besides the six en suite guest bedrooms there was a full gym, a home cinema, as well as two other reception rooms, a wood-panelled study, a large formal dining room and an even bigger kitchen.

But that really wasn’t the point, was it?

The point was that Xander didn’t want to share any of that space with a woman he didn’t even know, let alone her five-year-old daughter.

But what choice did he really have but to at least try? Darius had gone above and beyond brotherly love by moving into this apartment with him and taking care of him since Xander had come out of hospital four weeks ago.

Was it fair of him to now cause his brother any further worry while Darius and Miranda were away on their honeymoon?

Unfortunately, Xander already knew the answer to that question.

CHAPTER TWO

‘IS MR STERNE a nice man, Mummy?’ Daisy asked quietly as the two of them sat in the back of the limousine sent by Darius Sterne to collect them.

Was Xander Sterne a nice man?

Sam had only met the man once, during the interview she’d had with both Sterne brothers two days ago, while Daisy was at school.

Consequently, the question was a little difficult for Sam to answer, when Xander had left most of the talking that day to his brother. He’d only contributed to the conversation towards the end, when he had barked half a dozen questions at her about her daughter’s schooling, and the amount of time Daisy would actually be spending at his apartment.

Making it clear to Sam that, while her new employer might be willing to tolerate her own presence in his home for the next two weeks, he wasn’t in the least keen on having her daughter in residence as well.

An attitude that Sam wasn’t particularly happy about.

But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

She hadn’t always been in such dire financial straits; her ex-husband, Malcolm, wasn’t anywhere near as wealthy as the Sterne brothers, but he was nevertheless a successful businessman who owned a mansion in London, plus a villa in the South of France and another in the Caribbean.

Sam had been twenty to Malcolm’s thirty-five, when the two of them had first met, she a lowly junior assistant and he the owner of the company. She had been instantly smitten with the suave and sophisticated, dark-haired and wealthy businessman, and apparently Malcolm had felt the same about her, so much so that within two months of meeting each other they had been married.

Sam had been starry-eyed and, to begin with, so much in love with her handsome and successful husband. Her parents had both died years ago, and she had been brought up in a series of foster homes. Her extended family was practically non-existent, with only a couple of distant maiden aunts whom she never saw.

However, Sam’s pregnancy had changed her marriage irrevocably.

She and Malcolm had never discussed having children—or rather, not having them in Malcolm’s case. It turned out that Malcolm didn’t want children cluttering up his life as she discovered only when she’d excitedly told him she was two months pregnant.

At the time Sam had convinced herself that it was just a knee-jerk response to the thought of becoming a father for the first time at the age of thirty-six. Malcolm couldn’t really have meant it when he suggested she terminate the pregnancy.

She had been wrong.

Their marriage had changed overnight, with Malcolm moving out of their bedroom, seemingly repulsed by the idea of Sam’s body undergoing a transformation as the pregnancy continued. Even then, however, Sam had naively hoped for the best, sure that her marriage couldn’t really be over after only a year, and that Malcolm would come around to the idea of fatherhood, either before or after the baby was born.

Again, she had been wrong.

Malcolm had remained in the spare bedroom, ignored her pregnancy totally, and he hadn’t so much as visited her once in the clinic after Daisy was born. He had even been absent from the house when she came home carrying Daisy proudly in her arms and took her up to the nursery she had spent so many hours lovingly decorating and preparing for her beautiful baby.

Sam had struggled on for another two years trying to make her marriage work, sure that Malcolm couldn’t continue to ignore his daughter’s existence for ever. How could he not fall in love with his adorable baby daughter?

Except he hadn’t.

At the end of that two years of struggle Sam had admitted defeat. Not only did she no longer love Malcolm, she wasn’t sure she even liked him. How could she like a man who refused to acknowledge his own wife and daughter?

The past three years certainly hadn’t been easy ones. Emotionally or financially.

Her emotions and how she dealt with them were Sam’s own problem, of course. But how could a billionaire like Xander Sterne possibly understand how she had to scrape the money together, basically by going without lunches all week herself, just to be able to pay for something so trivial as Daisy’s ballet lesson once a week? Something her daughter had talked of almost since she could walk and talk, and which Sam refused to disappoint her over.

Of course Malcolm, when Sam asked, had refused to contribute in the slightest to Daisy’s happiness, over and above the minimum childcare payment paid into Sam’s bank account once a month. An account set up in the name of Samantha Smith rather than her married name of Samantha Howard.

Her married name, along with the gifts and jewellery Malcolm had given her during their marriage, and any settlement she might have expected as Malcolm’s ex-wife, either in a lump sum or monthly payment, were all things Sam had been asked to give up in exchange for Malcolm agreeing to give her full custody of her beloved daughter. A price Sam had willingly paid. And would willingly pay again, if she had to.

Xander, a man who owned and ran successful businesses globally with his twin brother, couldn’t possibly understand how difficult it was for a single mother to even find a job, let alone one that necessarily fitted in with the hours Daisy spent at school. Waitressing at lunchtimes had been one of Sam’s only options since Daisy started school the previous September, and even that became a nightmare when the school holidays came around. As they invariably did.

That last problem was going to be solved in two weeks’ time, though, by her new job at Andy’s ballet studio. In the meantime, this two weeks of looking after Mr Sterne would allow her to pay her electricity and gas bills.

Even so, it was mainly out of gratitude to Andy that Sam was now on her way to spend two weeks in the home of a man she had only met once, and whom she wasn’t in the least comfortable being around. He hadn’t exactly been outright rude to her, but he hadn’t exactly been polite either.

So, was her new employer a nice man?

Quite honestly, she had no idea.

Oh, there was no doubting that he was fiercely masculine, with his wide and muscled shoulders, narrow waist and hips, and long legs. His hair was a tousled and overlong gold, and his eyes were a dark and piercing brown in his tanned and chiselled face; nose long and straight between sharply etched cheekbones, his mouth full and sensual, with the top lip fuller than the bottom above a square and determined jaw. As an indication of a sensual nature?

Well, probably not the latter for the past six weeks, since his car accident had resulted in a badly broken leg and basically kept him as being almost a recluse in his own apartment.

Although that obviously wouldn’t have prevented women from visiting him at home!

It was something Sam hadn’t thought of until now, but the bedroom exploits of billionaire Xander Sterne had been making the headlines in the newspapers and glossy magazines for more years than Sam cared to contemplate.

And the women photographed draped on his arm, at film festivals and other celebrity events, were always beautiful, always single, and always long-legged and oozing sex appeal.

‘Mummy?’ Daisy’s curious tone reminded Sam that she hadn’t yet answered her daughter.

She turned to give her daughter a beaming smile. ‘Mr Sterne is a very nice man, darling.’ She avoided so much as glancing in the direction of the chauffeur sitting in the front of the car—just in case she should happen to catch his sceptical gaze in the rear-view mirror as confirmation of her misgivings.

Because nice was hardly a word anyone would use to describe Xander. Dynamic. Arrogant. Lethally attractive. But nice? Not so much.

‘Will he like me, do you think?’ Daisy added anxiously.

It was her daughter’s anxiety that made Sam’s mouth tighten. It was a legacy of all these years of Malcolm’s total lack of interest in his young child and an uncertainty that had resulted in Daisy being nervous around all men.

‘Of course he’ll like you, poppet.’ Sam would rip the arrogant Xander Sterne to shreds if he did or said anything to hurt her already vulnerable daughter. ‘Now, did you remember to pack teddy in your bag?’ She deliberately changed the subject; there was really no reason to worry Daisy when she, herself, was already nervous enough for the both of them.

* * *

Xander didn’t exactly pace the hallways of his apartment so much as clomp inelegantly up and down them on his crutches, as he waited impatiently for the arrival of Samantha Smith and her young daughter.

Xander had to admit to being a little surprised by Sam’s appearance when she’d arrived at his apartment on Wednesday morning, so much so that he hadn’t been able to so much as speak for most of the interview, but had instead left Darius to do all the talking.

For one thing, she must have been a child bride, because she didn’t look as if she could be any older than her early twenties, certainly not old enough to be the mother of a five-year-old.

For another, she was very tiny, maybe a dot over five feet tall, and almost as slender as his future sister-in-law. Although the weary shadows about her arresting amethyst-coloured eyes, and the hollows in her pale cheeks, looked as if she owed her slenderness more to a lack of eating rather than the hours of dance practice that Miranda enjoyed.

Those unusual amethyst-coloured eyes weren’t the only arresting thing about Ms Smith’s face; she also had high cheekbones, with a smattering of freckles over those hollow cheeks and bridge of her pert little nose, and a full and sensual mouth. Her hair, brushed back from her face and secured at her crown but still long enough to fall silkily to mid-way down her back, was a deep and vivid red colour. And surely indicative of a fiery nature?

If it was, then Xander had seen little of that fire during that half-hour interview two days ago. Instead, the woman had spoken quietly in answer to first Darius’s questions, and then his own, her long dark lashes lowered as she barely glanced at him long enough for him to enjoy those unusual amethyst eyes.

Maybe she was shy, or maybe she just didn’t approve of or like playboy billionaires, but was willing to put up with him for the sake of the large amount of money Darius was paying her? His brother had preferred to attribute her quietness to nervousness at being the focus of the attention of both Sterne brothers.

Which was highly possible, Xander accepted ruefully; Darius on his own or Xander on his own could be intimidating enough, but put the two of them together...

Whatever the reason for her introspection on Wednesday, Xander was only willing to put up with her mouse-like company long enough for Darius and Miranda to enjoy their wedding and honeymoon, and not a moment longer.

So where the hell was she? Paul had left to collect the woman and her daughter over an hour ago. It was not an auspicious start to her employment here, if she hadn’t even been ready to leave at the agreed time.

Xander needed to talk to Ms Smith as soon as she arrived, and make it very clear from the onset what he would or would not tolerate from her young daughter. He already had a mental list of rules prepared.

No running up and down the hallways of his apartment.

No shouting or screaming.

No loud television programmes, especially in the mornings.

No going anywhere near his bedroom suite.

And absolutely no touching any of his artwork or personal things.

In fact, Xander would prefer it if he wasn’t even made aware of the child’s presence in his apartment. Was that even possible with a five-year-old?

It would have to be. Ms Smith and her daughter weren’t his guests but employees, and Xander expected her, and her daughter, to behave accordingly.

‘Oh, look, Mummy, have you ever seen such a big television?’

Xander barely had a chance to register the presence of the woman and her young daughter, after the doors opened to his private lift, before a small red-haired whirlwind rushed past him down the hallway in the direction of the open door to the home cinema. She clipped his elbow as she passed, which knocked him off balance. Enough so that Xander felt himself falling.

Sam’s stricken gaze followed her daughter’s headlong flight down the carpeted hallway with all the horrified fascination of someone watching an unstoppable train wreck.

She closed her eyes with a wince as Daisy rushed past an open-mouthed Xander Sterne, opening them again just in time to see him swaying unsteadily on his feet.

Yep, definitely a train wreck!

Sam quickly dropped her shoulder bag onto the floor in order to run down the hallway, reaching Xander Sterne’s side just in time to put a supportive shoulder underneath his arm to prevent him from toppling over completely.

Or, at least, that was the plan.

Unfortunately, Xander weighed probably twice as much as she did. So that when he overbalanced completely he took Sam down with him, both of them ending up on the floor, the fall slightly cushioned by the thick carpet but still eliciting a grunt from Xander Sterne as he landed on his back, Sam sprawled inelegantly across him, her denim-clad legs entangled with his much longer ones.

This wasn’t just a train wreck, it was a disaster!

‘Well, that’s rule number one already null and void!’ he muttered through gritted teeth.

‘Sorry?’ Sam raised her head to look down at him.

‘Why are you and Mr Sterne lying on the floor, Mummy?’ a bewildered Daisy enquired curiously as she wandered back down the hallway to look down at them.

‘Will you tell her or shall I?’ Xander Sterne’s chest —his very muscled chest beneath another fitted black T-shirt—moved beneath Sam’s breasts as he bit the words out.

Sam felt the colour warming her cheeks as she realised her eyes were just inches away from the censorious brown ones now glaring up at her, and that her boss’s chiselled features were twisted in displeasure.

Or perhaps it was pain he was exhibiting rather than censure?

Daisy had just succeeded in knocking this man over when he was still recovering from a broken leg, the very reason that she and Daisy were in his apartment in the first place.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Sam mumbled as she moved carefully, to avoid hurting Xander further, lifting herself up and away from him before standing up. She wondered whether she ought to answer her daughter first or help him back up onto his feet.

She decided to do both as she noted that his face had paled in the last few minutes.

‘We fell over, darling,’ she answered Daisy distractedly as she went back down onto her knees beside Xander. ‘Should I call your doctor before you attempt to get up, do you think?’ she prompted worriedly as he began to roll onto his right side—the side with the leg that wasn’t broken—with the obvious intention of attempting to get back up onto his feet.

Xander turned to give her a cold stare, knowing it was his dignity that was injured more than his leg. Four weeks of hobbling around on crutches hadn’t exactly been good for his ego, and now he had to deal with the fact that he had been knocked off his feet by a child.

Although it hadn’t been all bad, Xander acknowledged grudgingly as he reached for his crutches to help him to his feet; Ms Smith might be a tiny little thing, and her build a bit too much on the slender side for his normal taste, but what little of her there was was completely feminine. A fact his body had definitely responded to as she lay sprawled on top of him. Her body had felt incredibly soft, and she’d smelt of flowers.

It was good to know, after six weeks without sex, that at least that part of him was still in working order, even if the rest of him was still shot to hell.

Even if it was an entirely inappropriate response to the woman being paid to share his apartment for the next two weeks.

‘I don’t need a doctor to know that the only part of me that’s bruised is my ego!’ Xander answered her more harshly than he had intended. Slightly regretting that harshness as she appeared to recoil and withdraw into herself.

What had she expected? That he was just going to laugh it off as childish exuberance?

Damn it, she and her daughter had only just arrived; he hadn’t even had chance as yet for the talk about rules regarding her daughter’s behaviour.

‘Ah, just in the nick of time,’ Xander muttered as the lift doors opened a second time and Paul stepped out carrying several bags, obviously the mother and daughter’s luggage. ‘Paul can help me get up, if you would like to take your daughter with you into the kitchen and make a pot of tea,’ he bit out.

Sam knew it was an order rather than a request, and a means of getting she and Daisy out of the way.

And who could blame the man? He had already suffered the indignity of being knocked off his feet; he didn’t need the further embarrassment of having to be helped back up in front of an audience.

Xander Sterne didn’t give the impression he was a man who liked to show any sort of weakness. Ever. Which didn’t bode well for the next two weeks, Sam acknowledged with a wince, when she was supposed to be helping him, as well as cooking for him.

She gave Paul a grateful smile before leaving him to help Xander back onto his feet, while she and Daisy went down the hallway in search of what turned out to be a beautiful red and black high-gloss kitchen, its numerous and expensive appliances all in gleaming chrome.

The sort of kitchen that she would have loved to explore further, if she weren’t feeling quite so much trepidation about whether or not she and Daisy would be here long enough for her to see any more of this apartment than the kitchen. And the inside of the lift again, as they left!

She lifted Daisy up onto one of the bar stools before finding a carton of orange juice in the huge American-style fridge, and pouring some into a glass for her.

‘I thought we had a rule about running in the house?’ she chided Daisy gently as she moved to put the kettle on before looking for the tea, aware of the murmur of male voices out in the hallway as she did so.

‘Sorry, Mummy.’ Her daughter gave a guilty grimace. ‘I just saw the huge television and I wanted to— Sorry,’ she muttered again contritely.

Sam’s expression immediately softened. ‘I think you owe Mr Sterne an apology for running in his home, don’t you?’

‘Yes, Mummy. Do you think he’ll let us stay now?’ Daisy added anxiously.

It didn’t help that Sam was wondering the same thing.

She raised her brows. ‘Do you want to stay?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Daisy enthused.

Sam had no doubts that the huge TV was the reason for her daughter’s enthusiasm. It certainly couldn’t be because Daisy liked Xander Sterne, when all he had done so far was growl at them.

Xander had just been about to enter the kitchen, with the intention of giving the woman a blistering piece of his mind before then ordering her to leave, when he overheard the conversation between mother and daughter.

At which point his chest gave a tight and unexpected squeeze at how subdued the previously exuberant Daisy now sounded.

Because he had reacted like a bad-tempered idiot. To a five-year-old.

Damn it, he was not turning into his father.

He was not!

It wasn’t as if the little red-haired tornado had meant to knock him off his feet. It had been a complete accident that she had managed to clip his elbow as she passed.

But why was he making excuses for her, when he had just been presented with the perfect opportunity—the perfect excuse—to dismiss Ms Smith? Before she’d even had chance to unpack the few belongings in the bags he had instructed Paul to leave out in the hallway before he left.

And what happened if Xander did dismiss her? He did still need her help and he would mess up Darius and Miranda’s honeymoon plans if he dismissed her now.

The fact that Sam might be counting on the money she would earn by working for him for the next two weeks was also a consideration.

Despite his reservations, even Xander wasn’t selfish enough to want to be responsible for causing Ms Smith, or her daughter, unnecessary hardship.

CHAPTER THREE

SAM HAD HER back turned towards Xander when he finally entered the kitchen, allowing him to enjoy the sight of that gloriously curling red hair as it flowed loosely down the narrow length of her spine, the pertness of her shapely bottom clearly outlined by her skinny jeans.

Xander veered his scowling gaze sharply up and away from all that femininity, to instead look at the little girl seated at the breakfast bar, and currently watching him with huge and anxious amethyst-coloured eyes over the top of the glass of orange juice she was drinking.

It was an anxiety Xander remembered from his own childhood.

An anxiety he was now responsible for causing, as his father once had for him.

Xander’s knowledge and experience of children was limited, to say the least, but even he could see that the child was a beauty, with her riot of long, red curls. Her features were more rounded than her mother’s, although the promise of the same beauty was definitely there. It was a cherubic face at the moment, dominated by large and serious eyes, and she had a similar endearing smattering of freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her tiny nose.

She now struggled down from the tall bar stool to look up at him from beneath long dark lashes. ‘I’m very sorry for knocking you over, Mr Sterne.’

Oh, hell, she even had an endearing lisp when she talked, caused no doubt by that noticeably missing front tooth.

‘I didn’t mean to,’ she continued to lisp. ‘It’s just that I’ve never seen such a big television before.’ Her eyes filled with unshed tears. ‘But Mummy has told me re—re—’

‘Repeatedly,’ Samantha supplied helpfully as she placed a cup of steaming-hot tea and the sugar bowl down on the breakfast bar in front of where Xander stood.

‘Re— Lots of times,’ the little girl substituted endearingly, ‘not to run in the house.’

‘I’ve labelled it “the whipped puppy look”,’ Sam confided softly even as she ruffled her daughter’s red curls affectionately.

‘What?’ Xander had to drag his gaze away from the contrite-looking child in order to look at her mother.

‘The tears welling up in the big eyes, the trembling bottom lip; “whipped puppy” look,’ the mother supplied ruefully. ‘It’s a look my daughter, most young children in fact, have mastered to perfection by the time they’re three!’

‘Oh.’ How to feel foolish in one easy lesson; he was being played, and by a five-year-old, at that!

Sam gave a rueful smile as she obviously saw the confusion in his expression. ‘I assure you, the contrition is perfectly genuine, and you really shouldn’t feel bad about responding to “the look”; it usually works on me too.’

Xander had the distinct impression he was fast losing control of this situation. If he’d ever had control of it in the first place!

But it was well past time that he did.

Xander looked coldly down the length of his nose at the two Smith females. ‘Paul left your bags out in the vestibule, which for obvious reasons you will have to carry to your rooms yourself. You have the two adjoining bedrooms on the right at the end of the hallway. My own suite of rooms is behind the doors on the left. An area that, under no circumstances, will either of you enter without permission. For any reason,’ he stated decisively.

For a heartbeat or two she looked taken aback by the harshness of his tone after their earlier conversation, before she straightened her slender shoulders, seemingly unaware of how the movement thrust forward her tiny but perfectly rounded breasts.

Something Xander was completely aware of, in spite of himself.

‘Of course, Mr Sterne,’ she now answered him smoothly. ‘Come along, Daisy, Mr Sterne wants to be alone now.’ She held out her hand to her daughter, which Daisy took before turning to bestow another shy smile on Xander as they left the kitchen together.

Leaving Xander feeling like a complete boor for having spoken to the two of them so harshly.

He instantly dismissed the feeling; if Daisy Smith had that ‘whipped puppy’ look down to perfection, then she had almost certainly acquired it from her mother.

* * *

‘Is there anything else I can get for you, Mr Sterne?’

Sam kept her expression deliberately bland as she waited beside the formal dining table where she had just served him the first course of his dinner: perfectly cooked asparagus and Béarnaise sauce.

Her long hair was secured tidily at her nape, and she was wearing the same plain white shirt and tailored black trousers she had worn to her interview earlier in the week; it was her idea of her evening ‘uniform’ for the next two weeks.

Sam had brought all the ingredients with her for the meals she would be serving over the weekend, knowing that she wouldn’t have the time, with Darius and Andy’s wedding tomorrow, to go shopping for food until Monday.

She had decided to prepare something simple for Xander’s evening meal today: the asparagus, followed by steak and a fluffy stuffed potato and buttered carrots, and for dessert she had made a pineapple upside-down cake with ice cream; easy to make, but it looked and tasted good. And there was no denying that the kitchen was a dream to work in.

Sam had always liked preparing and cooking food, and it was something she knew she was good at too. Which was why she had been deeply disappointed when Malcolm had refused to allow her to cook for him, insisting that it was what he employed his chef for. The most Sam had been allowed to do in that area was to approve the menus for the week.

Unfortunately, since the separation and divorce Sam’s meagre budget had been a huge deciding factor in the meals she had been able to prepare for Daisy and herself.

Happily, there would be no such limitations in Xander’s household. Sam very much doubted he had ever eaten a bowl of home-made stew in the whole of his privileged life!

‘What did you have in mind?’ He leant back in his chair to look up at her with those dark unfathomable eyes, his only concession to changing for dinner being to replace the black T-shirt of earlier with a white one. But then, he was in his own home, and so perfectly at liberty to wear whatever he chose, whenever he chose. Or not...

It had been a couple of hours since he had dismissed Sam and Daisy from the kitchen, and Sam had made good use of that time, by unpacking their few belongings and putting them away in the empty drawers in their bedrooms. She had also put the food she had brought with her away in the fridge and kitchen cabinets, before preparing dinner.

Sam’s cheeks warmed now as she heard the unmistakeable challenge in his tone. A challenge she chose to ignore. She had been married to a man whose wealth, and the power that wealth gave him, had rendered him both arrogant and selfish, to the point that Malcolm had ridden roughshod over everybody. Including Sam and her romantic dreams of their happy future together.

She had no intentions of so much as acknowledging that Xander Sterne had that bad-boy look off to perfection, in the fitted white T-shirt that stretched tautly over his wide shoulders and chest, and revealing his tanned and muscled arms. Or that she was guilty of having noticed the tautness of his bottom earlier, in those hip-and-thigh-hugging black jeans.

Enough so that it now made Sam’s heart beat faster just to look at all that blatant maleness, her palms feeling slightly damp, a tingling warmth in her breasts and between her thighs.

None of which she wanted to feel for the arrogant man. ‘You made a comment earlier,’ she said coolly. ‘Something about rule number one being null and void?’

‘So I did.’

‘What did you mean by it?’

‘Where’s Daisy?’ He asked a question of his own rather than answer hers. ‘It seems very quiet in the apartment this evening.’ He raised questioning blond brows.

Sam’s hackles were already up in regard to her daughter, but she stiffened defensively now; no matter what this man might think to the contrary, Daisy was not a noisy or a rowdy child. The opposite, in fact. Daisy was introspective rather than outgoing; no doubt a legacy of those early years of her childhood spent with a father who ignored her very existence, and had his own set of rules for ensuring he did so.

A guilt Sam still lived with on a daily basis.

For having ever held out even the fragile hope her marriage would one day return to their first year together, when she and Malcolm had seemed so happy together. For hoping, praying, that Malcolm would one day come to love his beautiful daughter.

She had wasted almost three years hoping and praying for those things, not just of her own life but of Daisy’s too, and on a man Sam had belatedly realised she wasn’t sure she had ever really known, let alone loved. A rich and arrogant man who had seen his much younger wife only as an asset, to be paraded on his arm, and to fill his bed at night. A man who was too selfish, too self-absorbed, to love the beautiful daughter they had made together.

Xander Sterne was even richer and more powerful than Malcolm could ever hope to be, and Sam didn’t even want to acknowledge that he was also far more disturbingly attractive too. That he possessed a sensual magnetism she responded to, however unwillingly.

Her days of allowing herself to be attracted to rich and powerful men were long gone!

Having been forced to live by a set of rules once, Sam wasn’t sure she could now adhere to another set, laid down by Xander Sterne for the time she and Daisy would be staying with him in his apartment.

‘Samantha?’

She blinked before focusing on the man now studying her with piercing eyes beneath long lashes.

‘Sam,’ she invited automatically.

‘I prefer Samantha,’ he dismissed arrogantly—as if that settled the matter.

Which in Xander Sterne’s self-assured eyes, it probably did. And really, what did it matter whether this man called her Sam or Samantha, when in two weeks’ time they would never set eyes on each other again?

‘Whatever you’re comfortable with,’ she allowed disinterestedly. ‘And to answer your question, Daisy has already been fed, bathed, and is now fast asleep in bed.’

Xander had no idea where Samantha’s thoughts had been for the past few moments, but he was pretty sure they couldn’t have been pleasant ones. Her eyes had taken on a haunted look, the hollows of her cheeks paler than ever against the fullness of her rose-coloured lips. ‘It’s only eight o’clock.’

Samantha nodded. ‘Daisy always goes to bed at seven o’clock on schooldays.’

Something else Xander didn’t know about children.

‘Fine.’ He shrugged. ‘Then perhaps you and I can talk about those rules after dinner?’

Her back stiffened. ‘Of course, Mr Sterne.’

‘Xander.’

‘I would prefer that we keep things formal between the two of us.’

‘Does that mean you would really prefer that I call you Mrs Smith?’

‘No, because I’m not Mrs Smith,’ she answered with a humourless twist of her lips.

Xander studied her through narrowed lids. ‘I seem to remember my brother telling me you’re divorced?’

‘I am.’ She nodded tersely. ‘I reverted to my maiden name after the divorce.’

He frowned. ‘Is Daisy’s surname Smith too?’

‘Yes.’ Her mouth tightened defensively.

‘I don’t understand.’

Not many people would understand a situation like hers. One where a father insisted upon, rather than objected to, his child’s surname being changed to her mother’s maiden name after the divorce. Malcolm hadn’t even wanted Daisy to possess his surname.

‘Your food is getting cold, Mr Sterne.’ She pointed out the obvious as she once again avoided meeting his gaze. ‘And I have several things that need my attention in the kitchen,’ she added before he could object. ‘But I’ll be more than happy to have that chat after I’ve served your coffee.’

Xander frowned as he began to eat his cooling asparagus, his attention really on watching her as she left the dining room. He was totally aware of the defensive stiffness of her very straight spine and shoulders, and the vulnerable length of her neck as she tilted her head back just as defensively.

Obviously he had said something to upset her—something else to upset her!

But wasn’t it a little unusual to also change a child’s surname after a divorce?

Not that he was acquainted with divorce on a personal level. His own parents had been unhappily married and probably should have divorced each other, but they hadn’t, so that when Lomax Sterne died, Catherine and her two sons had continued to keep the surname Sterne. His mother had only changed her name to Latimer when she married Charles, Xander’s stepfather.

Xander knew he would object strongly to any woman wanting to change his child’s surname to her own, divorce or no divorce.

Xander gave a shake of his head; he was taking far too much of an interest in the life of his temporary employee.

* * *

‘Dinner was excellent, thank you.’

Sam gave a nod of her head in acceptance of the praise as she placed the tray of coffee things down on the dining table.

‘Sit,’ Xander invited tersely as she began to clear the dessert bowl from the table.

‘I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind,’ she said, trying not to bristle at being ordered about so impolitely.

His gaze was cool as he looked up from stirring sugar into his black coffee. ‘I do mind.’

Sam gave a perplexed frown. ‘I really don’t think it’s appropriate for maintaining our employer/employee relationship for me to join you at the dinner table.’

‘I think the appropriateness or otherwise of our situation will be dispensed with the moment you have to help me prepare for bed later tonight!’

Sam instantly felt the heat of embarrassment burning in her cheeks—a blush she knew would clash horribly with the red of her hair—at this reminder that this was one of the duties she had agreed to when she took this job. A totally ridiculous embarrassment, when she had been a married woman for over three years.

Except she hadn’t been married to Xander Sterne.

Xander Sterne was in a whole different category from Malcolm when it came to physical prowess. Despite the inconvenience of having had a broken leg for six weeks, which had seriously affected his mobility, he was still all lean muscle and barely leashed power.

The thought of having to help him prepare for bed later tonight, including being available in case he needed help with his shower, was enough to make Sam feel hot all over, and she had to clasp her hands tightly together behind her back so that he wouldn’t see they were trembling.

‘All the more reason for us to maintain the formalities between us,’ she countered coolly.

Xander rarely used this formal dining room, and he hadn’t enjoyed eating dinner on his own in here this evening either. So much so that he was going to instruct Samantha to serve his meals in the kitchen in future. But he couldn’t help notice her discomfort at his mention of needing her help later tonight.

He wasn’t exactly looking forward to the awkwardness of that experience himself, but for a few seconds Samantha had looked positively horrified at the reminder of it, before she quickly masked the emotion. An emotion that was still evident in the flush in her cheeks, and the trembling hands she had attempted to hide from him by thrusting them quickly behind her back.

Proving she wasn’t quite as cool and composed as she wished to appear...

‘I’m starting to get a crick in my neck from looking up at you,’ he bit out impatiently.

‘I’m not tall enough for you to get a crick in your neck.’ She eyed him sceptically.

She had a point; even with Xander seated at the table their eyes were almost on the same level.

‘Look, Samantha, I really am trying to refrain from actually ordering you to sit down,’ he rasped testily.

‘Why?’

‘Because you obviously took exception to it a few minutes ago,’ he bit out irritably.

Once again Xander watched the emotions flickering across Samantha’s delicately thin face, seeing reluctance, and then irritation, as good sense obviously won out, and she pulled out the chair opposite him before lowering herself down to perch uncomfortably on its edge.

She raised her chin. ‘I believe you wanted to discuss the rules for the time Daisy and I are staying here?’

That had been what Xander wanted to discuss with her, but now it came to it he felt like a complete and utter heel for having even mentioned the subject. It had seemed to upset Samantha earlier, and even more so now, although he had no idea why.

Admittedly, he hadn’t been in the best of moods after falling over earlier but he had accepted Daisy’s apology, hadn’t he?

He hadn’t heard so much as a peep out of the little girl for the last three hours or so. In fact, it had been so quiet he wouldn’t even have known there was a child staying in his apartment.

Which was exactly what he had wished for earlier this evening, wasn’t it?

His mouth thinned. ‘I’m sure you’ll agree there have to be some rules for the three of us living here together?’

‘Which we should perhaps have discussed in more detail before I accepted the job,’ she said with a grimace.

‘No doubt,’ he conceded impatiently.

Samantha nodded stiffly. ‘The first one of those rules is no running in the hallways, I believe?’

Xander searched that pale face for either sarcasm or humour, but she gazed back at him without emotion. As if Samantha had heard all of this before, in another time and another place.

‘My requests are really only a matter of common sense,’ he snapped his irritation. ‘For your own and Daisy’s sake, as much as for my own.’

‘Oh?’ Samantha raised one auburn brow.

‘Yes, I— Look, I’m not used to having children around me, okay?’ Xander ran an exasperated hand through his hair. ‘I wouldn’t want to—I wouldn’t want—’ He wouldn’t want to what? Explode in temper at that timid little girl?

Would he do that to her? Could he do that? Was that monster he had discovered inside him capable of doing something so horrible to a five-year-old girl?

Xander no longer knew the answer to that question; that was the problem!

His mouth firmed. ‘No running in the hallways, no screaming or shouting, no loud television programmes—especially in the mornings. And, as I’ve already said, no entering my bedroom suite, and definitely no touching any of the artwork.’

None of which applied to her, Sam acknowledged wearily, but was all aimed specifically at her daughter.

She certainly wasn’t prone to screaming and shouting, or watching loud television programmes at any time of the day or night. Nor did she have any intention of entering Xander’s bedroom suite, other than those occasions when she had to help him in or out of the shower, or to dress. Nor was there any reason for her to touch any of his no doubt priceless artwork. Why would she need to? He had a cleaning service that came in twice a week to vacuum and dust and do the laundry.

All of his rules were for the benefit of her daughter.

They were very similar to the rules that Malcolm had laid down for Daisy’s behaviour. Except he had gone even further once Daisy began to walk and talk, and stated that he didn’t so much as want to see or hear her. At least Xander hadn’t gone that far.

Sam stood up and began to walk towards the kitchen. ‘That all seems perfectly clear.’

‘Samantha!’

She halted abruptly but didn’t turn, swallowing as she realised her throat felt clogged with emotion. With tears. For having brought her daughter into yet another household where Daisy could perhaps be seen this time, but was certainly never to be heard.

Somehow she had expected more of Xander Sterne.

Oh, she had known before she met him, from reading newspaper articles about him over the years, that he was an arrogant playboy, who played as hard as he worked. She had also been aware, when she’d met him on Wednesday, that he obviously resented needing her help while his brother was away and she had been prepared to deal with that.

But she wasn’t sure she could deal with having to subdue her daughter’s enthusiasm for life just to make him happy.

She was no longer interested in making any man happy. Which was the main reason Sam hadn’t so much as dated once these past three years; she had vowed never to put her daughter in a situation like the one she had suffered with Malcolm for the first two years of her life.

Once again Sam reminded herself that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Perhaps not, but she didn’t have to let another arrogant man dictate his terms to her, either.

She wanted this job—the money was too good for her not to want it—but there was only so much she was willing to put up with in order to keep it.

Sam turned sharply on her heel, an angry flush in her cheeks as she glared across the dining room at Xander Sterne. ‘I heard what you said, Mr Sterne, and I’ll do my best to see that you aren’t unnecessarily inconvenienced by having Daisy here. But I won’t go any further than that.’ She met his gaze challengingly now. ‘If you aren’t happy with that, then perhaps you should say so now and Daisy and I can leave tomorrow morning so that other arrangements can be made for you?’

Samantha was magnificent when she was angry. Her red hair, even though it was confined in a band at her crown, seemed to bristle and shimmer with electricity, her eyes glowed a deep amethyst, and her cheeks were flushed.

Her nipples were also tight against the fitted white shirt she was wearing.

Not that Xander was stupid enough to say any of that out loud; in his experience, and contrary to what a lot of other men believed, most women did not appreciate being told they looked magnificent when they were angry. Not surprising, when it sounded so damned patronising.

‘I’m fine with the present arrangement,’ he rasped dismissively, knowing his love for Darius and Andy gave him no real choice in the matter. But that didn’t mean he had to like it!

Samantha blinked, her expression uncertain now. ‘You are?’

‘Do you consider any of my requests to be unreasonable? And they are requests, Samantha, not rules. If there is a problem, then tell me so now, so that we can discuss it.’

‘I— Well— No.’ She looked disconcerted. ‘But obviously Daisy is a child and—’

‘It will be fine,’ Xander bit out impatiently as he stood up from the table, his hand resting on the back of his chair for balance. ‘Have you been divorced long?’ he asked, the sharp shift in conversation catching Samantha off guard.

‘Three years,’ Samantha answered woodenly, her gaze no longer meeting his.

‘Bad divorce?’

‘Is there such a thing as a good one?’

‘Probably not.’ Nevertheless, Xander couldn’t help but feel dissatisfied with her answer. Again.

All of the answers Samantha had given him so far, concerning her marriage and divorce, had been ambiguous, to say the least.

Darius had been right when he accused Xander of having become too self-centred in the weeks since his accident, deliberately so, after what had preceded that accident.

No matter how much Xander might wish it were otherwise, the arrival of Samantha and Daisy in his apartment now seemed to have made it impossible for him to continue to maintain that aloofness.

In fact, since their arrival earlier this evening Xander had felt a burning and increasing curiosity to learn all and everything there was to know about the woman who was to share his apartment for the next two weeks.

As much, it seemed, as Samantha was determined not to tell him.

Just what was she hiding?

‘Have you and Miranda known each other long?’ Xander decided to try a different approach to find out what he really wanted to know.

Samantha frowned slightly before answering him cautiously.

‘Andy and I met six months ago, when Daisy started taking ballet lessons.’

He nodded. ‘When I talked to Andy earlier in the week she spoke very highly of you.’ He wasn’t about to admit how protective his almost sister-in-law had been about Samantha and her young daughter. To the point where Andy had warned him to keep his hands to himself where her friend was concerned!

Xander had found the warning amusing at the time; after all, he couldn’t even stand on his own two feet without the assistance of his crutches at the moment, so he was hardly likely to be making a move on the woman.

After spending just a few hours in Samantha’s company, however, he found himself definitely regretting that lack of mobility.

‘That’s very kind of her.’ Samantha smiled. ‘Andy’s very easy to get along with.’

Xander nodded. ‘I bet Daisy is good at ballet too?’

Her smile became openly affectionate. ‘She loves it.’

‘And does Daisy spend much time with her father?’

Sam drew in a sharp breath as she realised that Xander had been lulling her into a false sense of security these past few minutes, and that he had now decided to pounce. No wonder he and his brother were so successful in business; most people would know, from a single meeting, to be cautious where the brooding Darius was concerned, but they would feel less of a need with the supposedly easy-going Xander.

But perhaps she was being unfair, and Xander hadn’t had this hard edge to him before his car accident six weeks ago?

No, he’d still have had the edge, Sam decided ruefully, he just chose to hide it behind that easy-going charm. A charm he was making no effort to maintain in front of her. And why should he? She was here to work, not be charmed into his bed as so many other women had been.

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Daisy will be spending all of her time here with me for the next two weeks when she isn’t at school.’

‘That didn’t exactly answer my question.’

Sam maintained that steady eye contact. ‘I thought it did.’

His mouth firmed. ‘Is your husband away?’

‘Ex-husband,’ Sam corrected. ‘And I have no idea whether he’s away or not. Now if you will excuse me?’ she added briskly as she gathered up the used dessert bowl. ‘I still have to tidy up in the kitchen.’

‘It can wait.’

‘I’m tired, Mr Sterne, and would like to relax for a while before bedtime,’ she stated firmly.

Xander only just managed to bite back his frustration with the way Samantha continued to avoid or refused to answer any of his questions about her marriage or her ex-husband. Deepening the mystery she was fast becoming to him.

Because there was something very intriguing about the way she clammed up every time Xander so much as mentioned her ex. And the fact that she had no idea whether or not he was even in the country, let alone when he would be seeing his daughter again, was decidedly odd.

When did the man see his daughter?

More importantly, what had the other man done to Samantha to cause those shadows in her eyes every time the subject of him was so much as mentioned?

CHAPTER FOUR

‘ARE YOU GOING to stand in the doorway all night or do you actually intend to come into the room, where you might actually be of some use in helping me?’ Xander Sterne rasped impatiently from where he sat on the side of the huge four-poster bed that dominated his bedroom.

Sam had taken one look at Xander and frozen where she stood, her heart pounding in her chest and her pulse racing.

But she wasn’t drooling.

At least, she hoped she wasn’t.

Surely any woman could be forgiven for finding herself momentarily unable to move or speak after being confronted with an almost naked Xander Sterne?

Almost, because he had a small towel secured about his waist that only just covered his—well, it just about covered his modesty.

Not that he had any reason to feel in the least modest from where Sam was standing.

And looking.

She was captivated by the sight of his completely bare, tanned chest and wide, muscled shoulders. His chest was covered in a fine dusting of golden hair, a six-pack rippling at his abdomen.

Sam’s fascinated gaze shifted lower as he stood up, drawn to the long lean length of his bare and muscled legs, the temporary cast he wore in the day having been removed in preparation for his shower, and revealing the reddened scars from his operations six weeks ago.

Even his feet were attractive: long and elegant. Very long and elegant, Sam acknowledged slightly breathlessly, her gaze moving higher as she recalled reading somewhere that the length and size of a man’s foot was in direct proportion to his—

‘Samantha!’

She gave a guilty start as she reluctantly dragged her gaze away from the concealing towel to look up into Xander Sterne’s handsome but obviously impatiently irritated face.

‘Sorry.’ She moved briskly into the bedroom and approached where he now stood beside the bed, her cheeks feeling warm with embarrassment as she realised she was behaving like a starstruck teenager.

Come to think of it, Xander wouldn’t look out of place in any action movie, his perfect form blazoned across the big screen.

‘Samantha...!’ Xander now sounded exasperated rather than just annoyed by her obvious distraction.

‘I can’t continue standing unaided for too much longer, Samantha,’ he reminded harshly.

No, of course he couldn’t.

Just because Xander was the most glorious male specimen she had ever seen, on or off the big screen, that was no reason to keep ogling him as if he had the starring role in her favourite sexual fantasy.

‘I’ll go and turn on the shower,’ Sam told him as she put an instant stop to those thoughts, her gaze shifting sharply away from continuing to look at all that breathtaking manhood as she walked towards the bathroom, needing a few minutes alone in order to pull herself together.

Which didn’t mean her thoughts didn’t continue to churn as she distractedly opened the smoked-glass door to the shower that ran the length of one wall of the bathroom, her gaze becoming unfocused as she drifted off into thought again after she had turned on the water and stood waiting for the temperature to adjust.

Responding so viscerally to her boss’s nakedness was something Sam hadn’t expected! Especially with a man who was even more wealthy and powerful than her ex-husband. She hadn’t so much as looked at another man since leaving Malcolm, let alone reacted so physically to one! Her breasts felt uncomfortably tingly, her nipples highly sensitive.

Sexual arousal.

For Xander Sterne, of all people.

And because she had never in her life been this close to such a gorgeous—and very naked—man before tonight; Malcolm had never looked so blatantly, predatorily male, not even when the two of them had first met. Malcolm never could have the physique and looks of Xander, not in a million years of working out at the gym three times a week.

No doubt Xander had been using his gym here in the apartment these past few weeks in order to maintain that upper-body physique.

As for his lower body...

No doubt he usually maintained that by carousing all evening and having sex all night! Although he certainly wouldn’t have been able to indulge in the sex part of that since his accident.

At least, Sam presumed that he hadn’t?

Which reminded her that she had one rule of her own, regarding his own behaviour, while she and Daisy were staying here, that she still needed to discuss with him.

‘Samantha?’

Sam gave a sharp intake of breath, having been so lost in thought that she hadn’t even noticed that Xander had entered the bathroom behind her.

She was so startled by his presence she spun quickly round to face him, not having realised he was standing quite so close to her, and succeeded in doing exactly as Daisy had earlier, accidentally knocking his elbow with the hand she had raised defensively.

Unfortunately, with the same result!

‘Not again,’ Xander had time to mutter disbelievingly as he felt himself falling sideways towards the hard marble floor of the bathroom.

Oh, yes, a concussion was definitely just what he needed to finish off this already disastrous day.

Except it didn’t happen.

Somehow—and Xander had no idea how she managed it—Samantha moved quickly enough to lodge her shoulder underneath his armpit. At least arresting his fall, even if they did both still stagger as his weight once again proved too much for her, before they were able to drop down onto the marble ledge running along the length of the bathroom wall opposite the shower.

‘You know,’ Xander snapped as he righted himself on the marble seat, ‘I’m not sure if you and Daisy aren’t determined to break my other leg—or worse!’

It certainly must look as if they were, Sam acknowledged with a guilty wince, shifting uncomfortably as she realised she was still tucked cosily beneath Xander’s arm. Her hand, having fallen onto the firmness of his abdomen, was lying dangerously close to the top of the towel, her cheek resting against the warmth of his bared chest.

A chest that felt wonderfully solid, his skin smelling of the cologne he must have put on that morning, and a heat that spoke purely of earthy male.

It was a delicious and arousing combination.

And Sam didn’t want to be aroused by this man any more than she already was. Wouldn’t allow herself to be attracted to another man who believed his wealth and power gave him the right to ride roughshod over everyone else.

She jerked into a sitting position before scrambling inelegantly to her feet and moving sharply away from him. ‘You startled me, creeping up on me like that!’

He eyed her exasperatedly. ‘I should have guessed it was somehow going to be my fault. I’ll try announcing my presence next time, shall I?’

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