‘He’s really not that scary,’ Dare had commented with an arched brow as he’d petted him.
Carly had offered a brief, forced smile, not wanting to find him the least bit amusing. As far as she was concerned he and the adoring dog deserved each other because it had been Gregory’s fault she had nearly been run over by the man in the first place.
‘A walk sounds lovely,’ Rachel agreed, ‘and I’m sure Dare won’t be bored at all.’
Carly kept a smile on her face as she caught the Baron’s pleading look. The man certainly knew how to tug at her heartstrings, that was for sure. And perhaps she could agree to escort Dare into the village and then kick him in the shins once they’d rounded the side of the house.
‘Okay, fine,’ she groused.
‘Don’t be too enthusiastic, Red. I might think you like me.’
She’d show him how much she liked him, she thought, right around the next corner.
Smiling pointedly at Benson, she took hold of his wrist. ‘I’m sure you and Rachel have a lot of information to exchange.’ And he’d better use this time to inform her of his illness or Carly would risk being fired and do it for him!
Satisfied that his pulse was fine, she stood up but not before she caught sight of Dare’s narrowed eyes on her hand. She supposed to an outsider her casual touches could be construed as affection, but still... It was a big leap to go from affection to sleeping with someone and it certainly didn’t excuse his rudeness towards her, or his grandfather.
* * *
Dare had been surprised Carly had not continued to try and wheedle out of their little walk to the village. He’d been surprised even more to find himself accepting the old man’s suggestion even before he’d received his mother’s not-so-subtle kick in the ankle beneath the table. She wanted time alone with her father. So, okay, he’d give it to her and accompany the little gold-digger into the village.
The little gold-digger who had played his mother like a finely tuned harp at lunch with her polite and surprisingly insightful views on current affairs and international issues. He’d even found himself agreeing with her at one point, but then he supposed if one aimed to become a trophy wife one needed to be able to converse with a variety of intelligent people. Perhaps Miss Carly Evans was just wilier than many of the women of her ilk.
‘Okay, this is as far as we go,’ she said coldly, stopping suddenly as soon as they were out of sight of the terrace.
Dare glanced at the ten-foot manicured hedges leading to what looked like a maze, and a set of well-kept clinker brick stables off to the left. ‘Small village,’ he offered.
‘Don’t be smart,’ she snapped, giving him a look that could wipe ten percent off the Dow Jones in seconds. ‘We’re not going to the village.’
‘And what will I tell old Benson when I return and he asks how I found it?’
‘They’ve only thrown us together because they want time alone, you know?’
‘I know that,’ Dare drawled. ‘I’m not an idiot.’
She gave him a look that said she disagreed and shrugged. ‘So go polish your bike or something.’
Dare grinned. ‘I think you like my bike. Go on, admit it.’
‘That death trap?’ Carly scoffed. ‘Do you know how many emergency-department patients are injured on motorcycles every day?’
He pulled a face. ‘I don’t think I want to know.’
‘Exactly,’ Carly said. ‘Next time take the bus.’
Dare laughed and she gave him a withering look.
When she made to continue past him he blocked her path. ‘And where do you think you’re going?’
‘To the village.’ Her little chin tilted up so high he wanted to nip it with his teeth. Nip it and continue down the long, slender column of her throat until he reached her collarbones and continued on to her sweetly rounded breasts.
‘Great.’ He cleared the gruffness from his throat and urged his body to settle down. This woman might affect him like no other but she was without morals and God only knew what else—panties, perhaps? ‘Come on,’ he growled. ‘You don’t want me telling Benson you’re being stubborn.’