Housekeeper at His Beck and Call

Now she was flustered. Now a pink stain had appeared on her cheeks. He was enjoying this. ‘Okay, not that drawer, the one next to it.’

Typical man—he didn’t have a clue where anything was. She found the iodine, closed the drawer and turned round to face him. ‘And the plasters are here.’ She reached for the tin, which he could now see was hidden behind the taps.

‘Well, I’ll be…’ He could only be impressed by her swift recovery—though he did wonder at the rapid rise and fall of her breasts beneath the fine silk slip. ‘So that’s where they got to.’ He acted innocent as she gave him a reprimanding look.

CHAPTER TWO

LIV tried to make a start on the CV, but it was impossible to concentrate while a rugged army officer prowled about the kitchen watching her. ‘If you could just sit down, I might be able to concentrate.’

‘That’s a very bossy instruction coming from a woman with bare feet dressed in her underwear.’

Liv’s short-lived confidence drained away. Practical matters she could deal with, but when the spotlight was turned on her sexuality…She rallied determinedly. ‘Do you want me to apply for this job, or not?’ Her gaze was drawn to Cade’s lips…to his scarred, firm, mobile lips. She forced herself to look away. She could not allow him to guess how badly she needed this job, or how insanely she wanted him to kiss her. ‘Just keep still for a minute or two, please.’ She could feel his gaze warming her face as she bent her head back to the task.

‘Any more instructions?’

‘Not as yet.’

‘Perhaps I should bring up your obsession with discipline at your interview.’

She didn’t dare look up. ‘You should cover everything you think relevant.’

‘Don’t worry, I intend to…’

While her heart tried to beat its way out of her chest, Cade narrowed his steel-grey eyes to stare at her. He had incredible eyes that seemed to reach deep inside her. He was an incredible man. She hadn’t known what to expect when she’d hammered on his door, but it wasn’t this hard man with muscles and a tan, and shoulders wide enough to hoist an ox…a man who smelled so good she had to fight the urge to forget the CV and simply close her eyes and inhale deeply…

‘You don’t seem to have made much progress,’ he observed, glancing at the blank sheet in front of her.

‘I’m forming the phrases in my head first.’ When I’m not imagining how it would feel to have your stubble rasping against my neck…

‘You are going to write something down?’ Cade prompted.

Pulling herself together, Liv ran through the possibilities in her mind. School results: average. Golf handicap: nonexistent. Cooking skills: A+, thanks to a term at Miss Smythson’s finishing school for young ladies. Hobbies? Reading romance and watching RomCom films. Hardly Cade’s cup of tea, Liv thought with a glance at his impassive face, but, guessing he could do with a little warmth in his life, she wrote them down anyway. She wrote faster when it came to her nursing qualifications; she was really proud of them. Thirty seconds later she handed Cade the completed sheet.

He couldn’t stop staring at Liv and wondering at the strange tricks fate played. There had been no other applicants, and she was a nurse. Could anything have suited him better? He exchanged an old army sweater for the sheet of paper she handed him, registering huge relief when she slipped it on. The dun colour drained her and it was so big she wore it like a shapeless dress. It went some way to concealing her slender form, but not far enough…even with a mud-streaked face, she looked beautiful.

‘Aren’t you going to read it?’

He refocused on the piece of paper in his hand, registering the important bits like age: 22; marital status: single. ‘Well, that all seems in order,’ he said, handing it back. ‘I take it you can start right away?’

‘That’s it?’ Her jaw dropped.

‘That’s it,’ he confirmed distractedly. ‘You’re hired.’

‘I am?’ She sprang up. ‘You’re sure you’re not joking?’

‘I never joke,’ he assured her. ‘We’ll talk money later. All I’m agreeing to for now is a short trial this weekend.’

‘Oh…’ Nothing was settled, then. She would just have to make sure she excelled at everything he threw her way.

‘It’s going to be a particularly taxing weekend. Do you think you can cope?’

‘Yes…’ Her mother had always told her she would amount to nothing, and that she would never survive in the real world. Even when the cottage hospital had closed and she’d lost her job it had somehow been turned around to make it her fault. Something told her that Cade’s world was all too real and the trials he would put her through would be similarly demanding. Was her mother right? Should she have settled for marriage as quickly as possible, and to an undemanding man like Horace? No! ‘Yes,’ she said again, this time with feeling. She brushed off her misgivings. If she didn’t try to make something of herself she’d never know what she was capable of, would she?

‘Good. If you survive the weekend we’ll talk money. For now I suggest you get out of those clothes—’

‘You do?’ Liv swallowed hard, remembering the condoms in the drawer. This was all moving way too fast.

‘I’ll show you to your room.’

‘Not yet,’ she said, buying time. ‘I mean, I’d like to clear up in here first.’

‘All right…’ He seemed impressed. ‘I suppose there’s no time like the present to make a start…’

Why was Cade looking at her like that? It was making all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention.

He rather liked the idea of Liv washing his dishes in a satin slip, rough woolly jumper and bare feet. She was a prim little thing, and shy, but her full lips were a give-away, likewise her darkening eyes too, and as for the tender swell of her breasts—

‘Rubber gloves?’

‘What?’ That caught him out. ‘Uh, no…sorry.’

‘Never mind, I can do without them this once…’ Liv plunged her arms up to the elbows in the washing-up water with relief. She could feel the chemistry between them and didn’t know what to do about it. She had dreamed of something like this all her life, and now it was happening she hadn’t a clue. Could Cade feel it too? She hoped not. She wanted this job, and if he made a move she wouldn’t know what to do, what to say, how to handle him…She could only be a disappointment. Just as her mother said she had to forget the opportunities open to other women and concentrate on the few things she was good at—like washing dishes.

His face brightened. He had been wrong thinking fate had brought him a nurse; fate had brought him an angel. She was going to transform the suppurating pit he had returned to into a nice clean house. It had been so long since he’d properly smiled, his facial muscles creaked.

‘Aren’t you going to help?’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. But anything was better than Cade watching her with that narrowed wolf gleam in his eyes. ‘Don’t you have any clean tea towels?’ Maybe that was the reason he was holding back. ‘Look—there’s one here,’ she said, handing it to him.

He was shocked into accepting it.

‘Don’t worry—we’ll put some more on the list for when I go shopping.

‘We will?’

She smiled at him. ‘Pass me the rest of those things, will you?’

He picked up the pile of cutlery, but as he handed them to her they slipped out of her soapy hands into the bowl, splashing water everywhere. As she shrieked and jumped back he was forced to steady her. ‘Here…wait until I’ve wiped the floor, or you might slip on the tiles in your bare feet. He hunkered down. Her feet were splashed with soapsuds too, and he decided to dry them before turning his attention to the floor. Her nails were like shells, painted the palest pink, in honour of the wedding, he presumed. They were the softest, tiniest feet he’d ever seen on a woman. Balling up the tea towel, he very carefully blotted them dry. The room went very quiet; so quiet he could hear her breathing. Tension was like an electric current joining them. Lifting one of her feet, he rested it on his knee. When he lifted it again to blot her sole she gave an excited whimper. ‘Ticklish?’

She didn’t answer; he wasn’t sure she could.

Lowering that foot, he put himself through the same torture with the other. The temptation to massage her feet and show her just how sensitive they were was overwhelming him.

She had to lean on the sink for support. It had nothing to do with keeping her balance and everything to do with the feelings that were flooding her. She had never known she was capable of such strong sensations…and all Cade was doing was drying her feet, though in reality he was doing so much more. She wanted to moan and let her feelings out…She wanted to think straight and breathe steadily. But neither was possible. She had to hide her thoughts and pretend this wasn’t happening. He was drying her wet feet, and that was all.

Her feet, for goodness’ sake! Feet were for walking with, useful for kicking a ball with, and occasionally ornamental in the summer in a pair of strappy sandals. Feet were not erotic hot-spots…were they?

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He couldn’t believe it was turning him on to this extent. He had to stop now. He must stop now…‘Let’s leave this,’ he said, ditching the towel as he stood up. ‘I haven’t shown you round yet.’

‘Oh, that would be great,’ she said with huge enthusiasm, thankful for the reprieve and forgetting her earlier determination to stay in the kitchen until everything was straight. ‘So there is accommodation with the job?’

‘Of a sort.’ He grimaced. ‘It isn’t the Ritz.’

‘That’s okay.’

Liv hesitated by the door, overcome by the sense of taking a step into the unknown with a man she didn’t know. And when that man was Cade…

But she must at least try for this job, or else be content with her mother’s assessment of her. Gathering her courage, she followed Cade into the main part of the house.

Far from being the stately home she had imagined Featherstone Hall was suffering badly from neglect. ‘How sad,’ she murmured as Cade led her past a deserted ballroom. She could imagine it must have rung with music and laughter at one time, but now it was just a vast, empty space providing accommodation for a colony of spiders, judging by the cobwebs.

‘Come on,’ Cade urged, as if it saddened him too and he didn’t want to linger.

Or was that her imagination working overtime again? Liv wondered as they headed upstairs.

There were several flights of stairs, starting with a grand sweeping staircase, and ending in a narrow flight of steps winding up to the attic rooms. ‘Servants’ quarters?’ she asked him dryly.

‘That’s right—’

This was worse than she had imagined. The room Cade showed her into looked as if it hadn’t seen a lick of paint in centuries. And he expected to keep his staff? But then he could hardly be expected to keep everything up to date while he was off fighting for his country, Liv reminded herself. She gazed round the bare room with its tiny window and sloping ceilings and mentally girded her loins. She had been spoiled long enough, lived in comfort long enough. ‘This is fine.’

Judging by Cade’s expression, he was seeing the room through her eyes, as if for the first time, and he didn’t like what he saw. ‘Are you sure this is okay for you?’

She had been wondering how long it was since he’d had his last military haircut. Some time, she guessed now as he ruffled his inky-black hair. ‘Positive,’ she confirmed, refocusing. Maybe he’d grown his hair to cover his scars? She could see more of them cutting through his tan now he’d brushed his hair back from his forehead.

‘I haven’t been up here recently,’ he admitted, ‘and, as you can see, things have got kind of neglected.’

She felt a little glow of pleasure that he cared. She’d suspected he’d a human side and just hid it well. Or maybe she was clutching at straws and shouldn’t allow herself to get carried away; she liked Cade Grant far too much already. ‘All I need,’ she reassured him, ‘is a bed, a window and a door.’

He wanted to smile, but stopped himself in time. She’d struck a chord with him. He’d grown up in undiluted splendour, but what Liv described was how he’d felt on the day he’d joined the army. ‘I wouldn’t object to you making a few improvements…’

If she was here long enough there would have to be more than a few improvements, Liv reflected, and not just to the house.

CHAPTER THREE

CADE was full of surprises, Liv thought, gazing at the clothes he’d brought upstairs. She’d smiled when he’d asked her to take them to the cleaners in town where they did a turn-around service. How nice was that? He must take care of his gran’s cleaning for the old lady. And now Liv was on the point of leaving her attic room, to undertake this, the first of her missions—settling in having taken her all of thirty seconds, which was the time it took to throw open the window, turn back the bed, and discover that Cade had a lot to learn about bedding.

But his heart was in the right place. And it wasn’t just this kind deed. He had magicked up some acceptable army gear for her to wear, comprising a plain blue track suit and trainers in the correct size. Apparently he ran courses in the grounds when he was home—another plus point in his favour—and kept a stock of clothes. And then he’d insisted on giving her a wad of money ‘for anything else she might need’. When she’d protested her needs were few, he’d quirked a brow and she’d given in. She must buy some new clothes—an interim solution, he’d said. He’d just shrugged when she’d assured him she’d pay back every penny out of her wages. ‘I haven’t hired you yet,’ he’d reminded her.

Which had made her doubly determined to nail the job. Cade might seem a little gruff on first meetng, but life had made him that way. She had seen a different side of him briefly, and, however well hidden that side might be, she liked what she saw.

Wasn’t it easy to find excuses for a man who made her thrill with just a glance? Liv’s inner voice suggested. And was it the thought of those condoms in the drawer or the barren room that was making that quiver run down her spine now?

The room, Liv told her inner voice firmly; there was so much she could do with it. For someone who revelled in frills and flounces it was a blank canvas upon which she couldn’t wait to get started. What it amounted to was this—whatever Cade threw at her, she had to tough it out. She had nowhere else to go. And after the wedding fiasco she had no intention of becoming known as a serial bolter. People thought she was ditsy enough already, just because she looked a certain way, and this was her opportunity to prove them wrong. Yes, the thought of going into town on the afternoon of her aborted wedding frightened the pants off her, but she had to show her face in town some time, so why not make it now?

He frowned as he watched Liv marching down the drive. It hadn’t occurred to him she couldn’t drive. It hadn’t occurred to him anyone over the age of seventeen couldn’t drive. It made him wonder what else was lacking in her education. Recalling her horrified reaction when she’d spotted the condoms in the drawer, he had to consider the possibility she was a virgin. The thought of taking up the role of educator appealed to him. His body apparently agreed with this proposition.

He considered the ruined wedding dress, currently residing in a black plastic bag on top of the bins. What had torn Liv away from her own wedding? She must have known what she was getting into. She appeared to be the girl with everything…or was she the girl with nothing, who had realised how empty her life would become, and had decided to do something about it?

She was as pigheaded as he was, he concluded as she reached the gates. She had left without speaking to him first and clearly didn’t know the local bus only stopped every two hours outside the gates and she had just missed the last one. He could chase after her and explain, but something told him she wouldn’t appreciate that; she wanted to do things on her own, to prove she could.

She barely paused at the bus stop, before starting off down the road. Did she know how far it was to the next stop? There was a rusty bike languishing in the back of the garage, or he could even drive her into town, but didn’t he expect rookies under his command to use their initiative? Something told him Liv Tate would do just that. Plus she’d suffered enough for one day, and if she was anything like him she needed time and space to find her own solutions. Whatever had happened to her in the church that morning she had managed to put it behind her, and now she was determined to get on with the rest of her life. He could only admire that, and even envy it a little. Pulling away from the window, he left her to it.

She hitched a lift into town. Olivia Tate, formerly known as Miss Prissy-Pants-Caution-Is-Her-Watchword, waited as long as she could bear to for the bus and then hitched a lift into town with a lorry driver; a lorry driver moreover who offered to share his hamburger with her. How good was that? Having ascertained that that was all he wanted to share, she thanked the fates for being kind to her and declined politely.

By the time she climbed down from the cab on the outskirts of town Big Harry and Liv were good friends, but her buoyant mood was rudely shattered by the vicar’s wife, who lost no time in telling her that Olivia Tate was not welcome in town. ‘Why, Olivia Tate. I’m amazed you dare to show your face today of all days! And what on earth were you doing with a…truck driver?’

Liv’s eyes narrowed. Had this sort of thing been going on all along, and she’d only just noticed how ridiculous people were? ‘Big Harry?’ she said, affecting surprise. ‘Why, he’s my friend.’ And a better friend than you are, Liv concluded. Hugging Cade’s gran’s clothes for comfort, she turned her face towards the high street and the next part of her mission.

Liv was the first to admit she had a problem with shoes. She could never pass a sale sign without taking a look, and sale signs seemed to be everywhere, tempting her today. But she was looking for sensible shoes to wear at Featherstone—sturdy lace-ups with flat heels, she decided, forcing her reluctant feet past rows of massively discounted designer footwear.

She spent some of Cade’s money, and then a little more—telling herself she would work it off—before finally taking cover from the rain inside the Minster Tea rooms while she waited for the local bus to arrive.

Having drained the last of her coffee, she glanced at her watch. It was time to collect Cade’s gran’s clothes from the dry-cleaner’s. It made Liv smile every time she thought about them. Cade was all bark and no bite, she had decided. And now she really must go. She had collected a timetable from the bus station, and had no intention of being caught out a second time.

Of course, she could always take a taxi, Liv reflected, looking out of the window at the pouring rain; Cade had given her plenty of money…

And have him think her a wuss?

Smiling at the waitress, she asked for the bill.

He’d had to drive into town to pick up light bulbs. He wasn’t looking for Liv. It was just coincidence that made him cruise past the tea shop. He thumped the wheel in triumph when he spotted her seated by the window. And now he’d finished his shopping and the rain was sheeting down. He decided, in one of his ‘gallant knight helps out the little lady’ moments, to offer her a lift. But as he depressed the brake pedal in preparation to park he noticed the redoubtable Ms Tate was already striding down the high street in the direction of the dry-cleaner’s. So she had planned everything to coincide with the local bus leaving…

Good for her.

In spite of the dentist’s warning about grinding his jaw, he did so before stepping on the accelerator. He had wanted to be her white knight.

Yes, and, for a man who shunned feelings, that was dangerous.

On Liv’s return journey reality started to sink in. Now the trek up the drive of Featherstone was a guilty march and her head was full of how wretched everyone she had left behind must be feeling now. How would Horace feel? She knew she should be there with him now, facing the music and convincing him how much better his life would be without her.

How were her parents?

Liv’s firm stride faltered. She couldn’t tell tears from rain as she pushed her rain-soaked hair back. What a mess she’d made of everything, and now that nosy woman in town would embroider the facts, talk up Big Harry, and fill her mother with dread. The encounter had prompted her to leave a brief message on her father’s mobile to reassure him, knowing he would be the calmer of the two. She had also written a letter home, which she now posted. She had spoiled her mother’s special day, and, whatever their disagreements in the past, she loved her parents; they’d sacrificed everything for her. It was only her mother’s fear and insecurity that made her act the way she did. Liv should have known that and found a way to break through her reserve—touch her, reach her, reassure her, hug her…

As Featherstone Hall loomed in front of her and Liv saw Cade’s rugged vehicle parked outside, her bones turned to water. Whatever she’d done Cade Grant could sweep in and dominate her thoughts at the drop of a hat. Returning to him was exciting and frightening; he made her feel so vulnerable. It was like balancing on the edge of a precipice knowing a breath of wind could tumble her off. The thought of him, so big and sexy, with those expressive eyes that could look so haunted one minute and so challenging the next…Frying-pan into the fire didn’t even begin to cover it. Ruining her wedding was unforgivable; the pain she’d caused her mother was unforgivable; leaving Horace at the altar was unforgivable, but at least she had an underlying sense that she’d done the right thing even if she’d gone about it the wrong way. She had no such reassurances where Cade was concerned.

Clutching her precious parcel from the dry-cleaner’s, Liv picked up pace. She had promised to make Cade a nice supper, and had all the fresh organic ingredients in her shopping bag. In her smart, transparent, state-of-the-art plastic, this season’s must-have tote, Liv corrected herself. She hadn’t been able to resist snapping up the last of them at the store. And, yes, that made her shallow…Or maybe it was her insurance policy she had to secure the job now. She must stay on until she could pay Cade back the money she owed him.

Freudian shopping? Or was it just an irresistible urge to play with fire?

Whatever her motives, the thought of seeing Cade again certainly filled her with a blaze of excitement.

‘What time do you call this?’

‘Er, supper time?’ Liv’s cheeks blazed. No man had ever spoken to her in so sharp a tone before, and she wasn’t absolutely sure how to respond. Cade looked furious, but what had she done? She checked her watch. She wasn’t late. She had done everything he’d asked her to. His ‘tiger with a thorn in its pad’ stare wounded her more than he knew. So was she going to crumple? Drawing herself up, she met it coolly. She wasn’t going to fail. She wasn’t going to fail—

‘Well, don’t just stand there,’ he said impatiently. ‘You’re dripping rain all over the place.’

‘Your compassion overwhelms me,’ she said coolly. ‘Has something happened to upset you while I was away?’

He looked at her suspiciously. Everything was upsetting him. He had invited a scrap of a woman into his life, and she’d turned it upside down in no time flat. Wasn’t that enough to upset him? And did he want to feel this way? Did he want to feel anything? Plus he couldn’t get away from her—she was everywhere. Her essence invaded his mind, his body, his house—she wasn’t just here with him in his kitchen, she was in his head.

His thoughts were interrupted when she moved past him to the fireside.

The way her face brightened as she warmed herself contrasted sharply with his mood. He tried hard to sustain his bad mood, but now she was kneeling on the rug in front of the fire with her hands outstretched like a child…He looked away thinking he should know better than to introduce a girl like Liv into his dark world.