getting the taxi, Claire had to suffer the frustration of sitting in traffic snarl-ups. As they pulled up in Belgravia, she realised with regret that the taxi fare would take a bigger chunk of the money than she anticipated. Even so, she gave the driver a healthy tip.
“Do you want me to wait?” he asked.
Claire shook her head. “No, it’s fine.” She was definitely using the underground train to go home.
She watched the taxi drive off before turning to look at the mews mansion house belonging to Tevis Drummond. Belgravia was the domain of old money. The houses were worth tens of millions. She grinned to herself. Her little bedsitter room in a shared house would fit into a cupboard in the building facing her.
Looking upwards she counted five floors of windows in the elegant facade. No, there were six, below street level there was another floor, likely the old servants’ quarters or a kitchen. Stone steps with ironwork railings led down to a door. The window next to it was open and Claire could hear music filtering upwards.
Ignoring the main door with its huge entrance way and ornate stone porch, she headed down the steps and on reaching the door pressed the intercom.
“Who is it?” The voice was male, deep and commanding.
“It’s Claire from…” She didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence.
“Come straight in.”
The catch released and Claire tentatively opened the door and walked into the room. It was a kitchen. Not just any old kitchen. It was chrome, glass and dark wood and looked exceedingly expensive.
The man who’d given her entry had his back to her as he delved through a huge refrigerator.
Claire waited for him to finish.
As he turned, she realised it was Tevis Drummond. Something inside hit her with a jolt, her chest tightened and her stomach somersaulted. He seemed familiar and yet he wasn’t. She’d never met him before.
His blue hazel-flecked eyes narrowed.
Claire was instantly aware of how she looked. Dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and the last of the day’s makeup barely clinging to her face, she felt wanting under his scrutiny. His clothes shouted of ‘expensive casual’, hers of ‘chain store bargain’.
Whatever he thought of her appearance, his face said there was something very wrong and she fidgeted under his dark stare.
“Who the fuck are you?”
His annoyance hit her like a lightning bolt and Claire had to stop herself from stepping backwards as he crossed the room. She hadn’t done anything wrong. The damned man had invited her in.
Now directly in front, he towered over her and she had to let her head drop back to look at him. He was so close she could smell his maleness mixed with a spicy aftershave.
“ You buzzed me in,” she retorted. No way was she backing down. “I’ve got a package for you.”
She started to fumble with the catches on her bag, all the time keeping her eyes defiantly fixed on his. Now wasn’t the time to lose her temper. Tevis Drummond was a client and she needed to keep this job.
“I was expecting the florist.”
She frowned. “Do I look as if I deliver flowers?”
“Her name is Claire.”
“It happens to be my name too. Look, I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot.” She gave him a tentative smile.
A look flashed across his face. Claire could swear she saw a twitch to his lips. For a moment she almost liked the man.
Across the room, the sound of a door opening broke the moment. Tevis Drummond’s thunderous face returned in an instant as he saw who was joining them.
Claire couldn’t help but follow his gaze to look at the woman entering the room.
Face bare of makeup and stunningly beautiful, she studied Claire with worry, chewing on her bottom lip. “Have we met?” she asked.
“No,” Claire responded, but she knew who she was talking to. She dragged her gaze back to Tevis Drummond trying to hide the recognition from her eyes.
I need to get out of here.
Her legs wouldn’t move and she
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