‘Actually, I asked because of the lamp you’re using. It casts an unusual light.’
‘It’s to avoid damaging the documents,’ she explained as she added something else to the paper. ‘It’s not for my eyes. I have perfect eyesight.’
‘Perfect?’ he echoed with amusement. ‘You can see right through me, huh?’
She glanced over and shot him an instant kill look. That heaviness in his chest thawed fractionally more. ‘You already know I can.’
‘Yet you’ve been avoiding me,’ he said when she finally stepped away from the table.
‘You came here to be alone,’ she said, her expression devoid of the coy flirtatiousness that he was used to from women. ‘I’ve been giving you the space you asked for.’
He’d been regretting that request since the moment he’d made it. Though, contrarily, he equally regretted not insisting that she leave. Truthfully he was the one who ought to leave. He shouldn’t have come back. It had only dredged up memories he’d fought hard to forget. A reminder of who he was and the family failings he couldn’t ever escape. A frank reminder of his own damned, futile existence. Maybe he should leave his mother’s things in her hands. But he was curious about Merle now too.
‘Besides, I have work to do,’ she added.
That ‘work’ didn’t include entertaining him. But she was watching him and he realised the thoughtfulness on her face had slid to concern—and compassion. He stiffened. Did she think he was distressed about his father’s death? He didn’t want her pity.
‘You’re paid to work the weekends as well?’ he asked shortly.
That colour rolled back into her cheeks. ‘I thought I may as well get on with it, seeing as I’m to remain hidden.’
‘Well, take a moment—let’s go and see if there’s anything worth saving down there.’ He didn’t think for a second there was, but if he was wrong he wanted rid of all of it immediately. It was only for Leo and for his cousin Grace that he’d agreed to assess everything before selling. For transparency and honesty. They’d missed out on so much, he’d ensure they weren’t short-changed in anything else ever again. The other property sales were already completed and all personal effects had been shipped here for a final sort.
‘Apparently the entrance is via a hidden trap door in the back of the pool house,’ he added, desperately needing to think about anything other than Leo and Grace and his father’s awful shame.
‘Seriously?’
‘Yes.’
Merle knew this was a Bad Idea, but she couldn’t resist. Like the home cinema, she’d only briefly glanced at the pool house earlier in the week, opting to explore the leisure activities as a weekend reward for work done. She’d been keen to assess how much work there was ahead of her because Leo Castle’s brief had been sketchy. He hadn’t known how many boxes were onsite or even the state of the property. But since Ash’s unexpected arrival she’d been confined to the study.
Apparently there was no lazing about with a long weekend lie-in for Ash. Which had meant not for her either. It had been impossible to lie in bed listening to him splash about this morning. It had put all sorts of inappropriate images in her mind—and that was already distracted enough by that shockingly hot dream. She was mortified that she was thinking about him in such an inevitable way. Even right now she was trying not to stare at him and not get bothered by the fact he was still wearing only swim shorts. It was perfectly appropriate attire. This was a holiday home and he’d been swimming all morning, but she was too aware of all that skin, and her fingertips tingled with the appalling temptation to touch.
As she followed him she desperately fixated on the stunning grounds. There were a couple of alfresco dining areas—an enormous table overlooked the pool, a sweet setting for two was in the corner, while sun loungers and comfortable chairs were placed in sheltered spots where the views over the bay to the sea beyond were sublime.
‘The bunker was put in when the pool and tennis court were done. As far as I can tell from the plans, they dug up the entire area and basically buried a prefabricated structure.’ Oblivious to her feverish thoughts, Ash moved aside a rug on the pool house floor. ‘According to the notes I have...’ He trailed off and pushed on one of the inlaid tiles.
To Merle’s astonishment, four of the tiles slid back to reveal a dark cavity. ‘Oh, wow. There really is a trap door.’ She chuckled. ‘It’s like something out of a spy movie.’
‘I know,’ he muttered. ‘Ridiculous.’
As she stared down, lights flickered on to reveal a steep flight of stairs.
‘Shall we?’ He glanced at her with a wicked smile.
Her heart pounded. It was crazy to feel this frisson. ‘We leave this open, right?’ Merle double-checked.
‘Of course,’ he answered.
The staircase was so steep she could almost slide down it. At the bottom, Ash pulled open a heavy-looking steel door. Yet more lights flickered on as he walked through. Her heart still thudding, Merle followed.
‘Oh, wow.’ She gazed about the gleaming space in absolute astonishment. ‘Wow. This is...’
‘Insane?’ He circled around on the spot, shaking his head as he took in the set-up.
This was no weird, prison-like cell or futuristic survival bunker. This was pure luxury—like a plush hotel penthouse.
‘You’d never know it was here.’ She wouldn’t have believed it possible. Not when above them was that perfect, smooth, manicured tennis lawn beside the pool. There were no tell-tale lumps or hollows giving away the secret beneath the ground.
‘Which is the point, right?’ He crossed the room.
‘It’s big.’ Merle slowly followed him across the smooth wooden floors that echoed the warm, coastal luxury of the mansion above ground. Cosy leather sofas furnished the room.
‘My father
