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Emma was unimpressed by his charm or his person and had secretly pitied Leigh even then.
    “Wonderful, sweetie!” Emma proclaimed as she bustled into the room and deposited a couple of boxes on the room’s elegant four-poster bed. “I’m glad I caught you before you had time to dress. Derek sent one of the boys over to town to pick up a few things for you.”
    Leigh stared at the boxes dumbly for a few seconds. “You mean …” she said hesitantly, half stunned, half angry, “you mean Derek sent someone out to buy clothing for me?”
    “Oh, no, darling!” Emma said with horror. “Derek called the shop himself. All the boy did was pick them up!” She gave Leigh a friendly wink. “Derek claims he knows your taste and your size. He ordered from the same place where he’s often purchased your birthday and Christmas gifts!” Emma smiled brightly and turned her little figure for the door. “I’ll leave you now, unless I can do something else. Dinner will be about thirty minutes.”
    “I’m fine, Emma, thank you,” Leigh said. It would be fruitless to tell the housekeeper she didn’t want anything from Derek Mallory—especially clothing!
    She dressed quickly in her own suit, ignoring the boxes. She would inform Derek that she couldn’t accept such gifts from him. After brushing and rearranging her hair and freshening her makeup, she walked determinedly to the door. But her determination did not quite make it. Curiosity called her back into the room.
    The first box contained a pair of designer jeans and a handsome western shirt. An outfit for the following day she assumed. Pursing her lips, she closed the box. Opening the second, she let out a shocked gasp. A beautiful, simple beige cocktail dress of angel-fine silk met her eyes. Being female, she couldn’t help but draw it from the box and against her form to whirl before the mirror.
    The dress, of sleek lines, was made to form sensuously around the body. It was, as Derek had boasted, perfect to her taste and size. She itched to step into it, but though her fingers lovingly caressed the material, she forced herself to fold it carefully and to return it to the box. Repacking the gown, she realized that there was more in the box. A blush rose to her cheeks as she discovered stockings, a slip, bikini underwear, and a lacy, low-cut bra—all also perfectly sized.
    Good Lord! she thought, quivering. How could he know her measurements so exactly? Her presents from him over the years had often been clothing, but never such intimate apparel! But then, she thought, with a wry and rueful twist of anger, Derek was a connoisseur of women. He could probably take any female figure and size it up easily. With that in mind she quickly closed the box and marched stiffly from the room.
    “Mr. Mallory is on the patio, Mrs. Tremayne,” James informed her as she reached the landing. “May I bring you a cocktail?”
    Leigh was about to refuse, then she decided a drink might be in order. The right amount of liquor might sharpen her tongue rather than dull it, and she would need a bit of a bite to get through the evening. “Thank you, James,” she said. “A vodka and tonic would be nice.”
    The butler nodded and Leigh braced herself mentally and physically as she made her way through the parlor with its simple yet elegant period furnishings and strode with no visible trace of hesitancy to the poolside.
    Derek was standing at the far end, facing the channel. He cradled a glass absently in both hands as his tawny eyes fastened on the blue night before him. He was dressed now in a brown velvet three-piece suit, and Leigh was struck afresh by his aura of power and charisma. The suit, which should have covered his tapered physique, enhanced it. He turned to her then, and as a frown furrowed into his features, she was hit with another, startling realization. He had shaved off his beard!
    Surprise was about to make her comment on the disturbing fact but Derek spoke before she could.