Читать книгу Desire Collection: December Books 1 – 4 - Elizabeth Bevarly - Страница 19

Ten

The nanny interviews went extremely well. So well, in fact, that Faye couldn’t fault any of the women or the highly qualified male pediatric nurse who’d applied. When Piers suggested they discuss the applicants over dinner at his house, Faye sensed a rat, but she knew he wouldn’t back down and decided the easiest thing would be to face him and get it over with.

She went home after work, showered and changed into a loose pair of pants and a long-sleeved silk blouse that drifted over her skin like a lover’s touch. Huh? Where had that thought come from?

She frowned as she checked her reflection in the mirror. The cornflower blue of the silk with its darker navy print in a tribal pattern here and there made her eyes look more blue than gray. Was this too dressy? she wondered. Maybe she should just put on something she’d wear at work.

A glance at the time scotched that idea. Piers was expecting her in twenty minutes and it would take her all of that to get to his place in the Palisades. She slid her feet into low-heeled sandals, grabbed her bag and headed out the door. She took the Pacific Coast Highway to the turnoff, letting the view of the sea calm her—a comfort she badly needed when the prospect of spending the evening with Piers, and likely Casey, was the least relaxing thing she could think of.

Piers answered the door himself when she arrived, his cell phone stuck to his ear. He gestured for her to come in and take a seat in the living room off the main entrance. Rather than sit, Faye strolled over to the large French doors that opened to the gardens and looked out toward the pool. Despite the elegance and expense he’d put into furnishing the house, it looked and felt very much like a home. Although she’d been there many times for work, somehow this visit felt different. A tiny shiver ran down her back and she rubbed her arms before wrapping them around herself.

“Cold?” Piers asked from behind her, making her jump a little.

“No, it’s nothing.”

“You’re nervous then.”

“I am not,” she protested. “I have nothing to be nervous about.”

He studied her for a few seconds before quirking his mouth a little, as if he’d accepted what she said on face value and nothing more. It made her instinctively bristle, but she was prepared to let it drop if he was.

“Sorry I was on the phone when you arrived. It was my lawyer’s office. They’ve tracked down Casey’s mom. Turns out she’s back in Australia.”

“And? Is she okay?”

“That was the first thing I asked them. Apparently she’s doing fine and she remains adamant that she wants nothing to do with Casey.”

Faye felt a strong tug of sympathy for the little guy. “Why did she have him then, if she didn’t want him? What was she thinking?”

“I get the impression she wasn’t thinking much at all. She came to the US after ditching her boyfriend in Australia. She fell into a relationship with a new guy here, but he left her when they found out she was expecting. He said it couldn’t be his baby because he was infertile, which, according to her, left Quin as the only other possible father.

“She says she tried to get ahold of Quin but never got an answer when she called his phone, which would make sense, of course.” Piers’s eyes grew bleak and he drew in another breath before continuing. “According to what she told the lawyer, she stayed in Wyoming, drifting from casual job to casual job until she had the baby. By then she’d saved enough to go home again. She’d originally believed Casey to be her boyfriend’s child but when he told her he was infertile and their relationship broke down and she couldn’t get ahold of Quin, she honestly didn’t know where to turn. She hadn’t wanted to call on her family back in Australia and, living a transient lifestyle here, had no idea of how to seek help. Now, she only sees Casey as a hindrance and, also according to my lawyer, is willing to sign off all her rights to access.”

“She is getting legal counsel about her decision, isn’t she?”

“I’ve insisted on it and agreed to pay all her expenses. I’ve also requested she have a psychological assessment. I would hate for her decision to be based on any possible psychosis as a result of having Casey.”

Faye nodded in agreement. “That’s a good idea. I’m glad you’ve done that.”

“She insisted it wasn’t necessary and that she simply wants to close the door on this episode of her life, but when we said we’d cover all costs, she reluctantly agreed.”

“Did she know Quin had passed away?”

“Apparently not. She heard that I was coming up to the house and assumed I was the guy she’d had a relationship with. Although ‘relationship’ is a bit of a misnomer. It seems they were nothing more than a few brief liaisons during and after New Year’s Eve.

“Anyway,” Piers continued, “I’m leaving everything I can in the hands of my lawyers and my most pressing concern right now is choosing who I trust the most to be able to help me provide the best care for Casey.”

He poured them both a drink. A Scotch on the rocks for him and a mineral water for her. They sat side by side on the sofa and pored over the folders he’d brought home.

“I think you should go with these two,” Faye said, putting her finger on the guy’s CV and one of the slightly older women.

“Tell me why.”

“Well, I think they both have some very strong experience. Jeremy’s worked in pediatrics and needs more regular hours to support his wife while she completes her degree, and Laurie has excellent references from all of her past positions. In fact, she’s only leaving her current role because the family is moving to the UK and Laurie doesn’t want to go. They could rotate from week to week between the office and the house. One week, day shifts. The next, nights.”

“Do I really need two nannies? I plan to be on hand in the evenings and if Casey needs me during the night.”

“I know you plan to minimize travel, but what about when you do site visits and you’re away for several days, or if you’re called to troubleshoot a problem at short notice and can’t get home at night? Not to mention business dinners and other events that you can’t skip that could take you away for hours at a time. Getting a sitter for him every time would be a hassle, and it would be rough for Casey, too. He needs continuity—to feel familiar with the person caring for him. Babies respond better to routine.”

Piers fell silent and angled his body to face her, one arm resting along the back of the sofa.

“I asked you this before but this time I want an answer. How come you know so much about babies? I know you act like you want nothing to do with them but your advice is always spot-on. You talk about child care like you really understand it.”

Faye felt the all too familiar lump solidify in her throat. She swallowed to try to clear it but it barely made any difference.

“I’ve seen kids in the care system. Some of them abandoned, some of them taken from their families through hardship or abuse. It gave me an insight, that’s all.”

The half lie made her heart begin to race in her chest. An insight? That was far too mild a description for what it had been like in her foster home when a baby was brought to the house for care—and in her years there, there had been several. She vividly remembered the first one who’d come into the home after her placement. Remembered hurrying home from high school each day so she could help her foster mom with the little boy’s care. She didn’t understand then, but now she knew that she’d poured all of her love for her dead baby brother into that child. When he was eventually returned to his parents, she’d felt the aching loss of his departure as if it was a physical pain.

She’d promised herself she wouldn’t get so involved the next time, but she’d been unable to help herself. Each child had called to her on one level or another—each one a substitute; a vessel open to receive all the love she had inside her. Her foster mom had seen it all, had talked with Faye’s caseworker about it, but the woman had told her it was a good thing. That it was allowing Faye to work through her grief for her family. But it hadn’t. In the end, when she’d aged out of the system at eighteen and gone to college, she was just as broken as she’d been when she’d arrived.

A touch on her cheek made her realize she’d fallen deep into her reveries—forgotten where she was, and why. To her horror she realized she was crying. She bolted up from the sofa and dashed her hands across her face, wiping all trace of tears from her cheeks.

“Faye? It’s more than that, isn’t it?” Piers probed gently. “How did you see those kids in the system? Was it when you were placed in foster care yourself?”

She stopped at the French doors. Maybe this would be easier if she couldn’t see him. Couldn’t feel his strong reassuring presence so close beside her.

“Yes.”

A shudder shook her. Warm hands settled on her shoulders but he made no move to turn her around.

“It must have been hell for you.”

She didn’t want to go into details, so she did the only thing she knew would distract him. She spun and slipped her hands around the back of his neck and gently coaxed his face to hers.

He didn’t pull away; he didn’t protest. He simply closed his arms around her waist, let her take his mouth and coax his lips open.

The second she did, she felt a jolt of need course through her. A need that demanded he fill all the dark, empty spaces inside. The spaces she barely even wanted to acknowledge existed. She wanted him so badly her entire body shook with it, and when his hands began to move, one cupping her buttocks and pulling her more firmly into the cradle of his hips, she let herself give over to sensation.

She couldn’t get enough of him. His taste, his scent, the strong, hard feeling of his body against hers. Her mind blazed with heat and longing, remembering the intense gratification he’d wrung from her. The feeling of him reaching his own peak and knowing he’d found that delight in her.

“Dinner is served in the conservatory, Mr. Luckman. Oh!”

Faye ripped her lips from his and tried to pull away, but Piers wouldn’t let her go. Instead he firmly rubbed her back, as one would when trying to settle a skittish animal.

“Thank you, Meredith. We’ll be along in a moment.”

Faye ducked her head, unable to meet the housekeeper’s eyes. Ashamed of what she’d done.

Piers tipped her chin so she’d looked up at him again.

“As a distraction tactic, I have to say, I admire your strategy. Shall we go through to dinner?”

Faye pulled away again and Piers let her go this time.

“No. Look, I’d better go. Meredith—”

“No more running away. Meredith won’t say a word. You should know as well as anyone that she’s the soul of discretion. Besides, she likes you.”

Like her or not, Faye felt horribly uncomfortable as she let Piers tug her down the hall to the family room and through to an informal dining area in the conservatory, where Meredith had arranged their meal. A succulent-looking tri-tip roast nestled in its juices on a carving plate and a roasted vegetable salad was piled in a serving dish beside it. The scents of balsamic and garlic made Faye’s mouth water hungrily.

Meredith looked up from tweaking a napkin at one of the place settings. “I’ve left the roast for you to carve, Mr. Luckman. The baby is down for the night, so I’ll be off now. The monitor is on the sideboard over there. Bon appétit!” And, with a warm and knowing smile in Faye’s direction, she bustled her way back to the kitchen.

Faye felt herself begin to relax. Okay, so Meredith didn’t judge her for what she’d seen back there in the living room. And why should she? a little voice asked. She’s probably seen Piers kissing women every day.

Across the table, Piers picked up the carving knife and fork. “What’s your pleasure?” he asked with a hooded look.

Her insides clenched on a wave of heat at his simple question. “I...I beg your pardon?”

“Do you prefer the crispy end or something from the middle?”

“Oh, the end bit, please.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Faye watched, mesmerized, as Piers deftly carved the tri-tip into slices and then served her. The evening sun caught the hairs on his arm and instantly she was thrown back to Wyoming. Remembering how his body hair had felt under her fingertips. More, how the silky heat of his skin had felt against hers. She pressed her thighs together as another surge of need billowed through her.

What on earth had she been thinking, kissing him before? It had awakened a monster within her. A demanding monster that plucked at her psyche, drawing on select memories that would eventually drive her mad.

Mad with lust, perhaps, that thoroughly inconvenient droll little voice said at the back of her mind.

In an effort to distract herself, Faye served a large helping of balsamic-roasted vegetables onto Piers’s plate and a smaller helping for herself. She tried to direct the conversation toward a project nearing completion in San Francisco but Piers wasn’t having any of it.

“Let’s leave work at the office for today, hmm?” he said, spearing some food on his fork and lifting it to his mouth. “What do you think of the vegetables? Meredith uses a secret ingredient that she refuses to disclose to me. Maybe you can help me figure out what it is?”

Was he serious? Apparently so, judging by the expression on his face. She’d never really stopped to watch him eat before, but now, with a faint glisten on his lips and a rapt expression on his face, she was reminded all too much of how seriously he took other pleasures. Biting back a moan, Faye sampled some of the vegetables herself.

“Tell me,” Piers insisted. “What do you taste?”

“Well, balsamic vinegar, of course. And garlic. And...” She let the flavors roll over her tongue. “Rosemary. Definitely rosemary.”

“Yes, but there’s something else in there. It’s subtle but sweet. Meredith obviously uses it sparingly.”

Faye concentrated a little longer, closing her eyes this time as she sampled another mouthful.

“Honey!” she exclaimed. “It’s barely there, like you said, but I just get a hint of it before I swallow.”

Across the table Piers beamed at her. “You know, I’ve been trying to figure that out for the better part of two years. It’s been driving me crazy.”

“Really? That’s been the driving question behind everything you do?” Faye teased, laughing softly.

“You’re beautiful when you laugh like that. Actually, you’re beautiful all the time, but when you let go and laugh—” He paused, his face growing serious and his eyes deepening into dark pools.

“Stop it,” Faye insisted. “You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“I can’t help it, Faye. I have feelings for you. I want to talk about them. About you. About us.”

“The only us is the us that works together,” she said adamantly and carved a piece of meat to put in her mouth.

“I’d like there to be more than that. Wouldn’t you? Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to explore what we shared back at the lodge?”

She chewed, swallowed and set her knife and fork down before looking at him. It took all her control to keep her response short and to the point.

“No.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of hiding from your feelings, Faye?”

“I’m just being pragmatic. Look, your track record with women speaks volumes to your inability to commit long-term, even if I was interested in anything long-term. Which I’m not. Ever.”

Faye looked at the skillfully prepared food on her plate and felt all appetite flee. She hated having to talk like this to Piers and fervently wished they’d never gone and complicated everything by having sex.

“That’s a shame. As to my track record, perhaps I’ve been searching for the one who has been under my nose all the time?”

“You’re being ridiculous,” she scoffed.

But deep inside a little piece of her began to wish she could reach out and accept what he was offering. She wondered what it would be like to belong to someone. To be a part of more than just one.

The monitor on the sideboard near the entrance to the conservatory crackled into life and Casey’s cry broke into the air.

“You’d better go and see to him,” Faye said.

Piers looked as if he wanted to say more to her but he couldn’t ignore the growing demands of the baby upstairs.

“Don’t you dare leave,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“I—”

“Don’t. Leave.”

And with that demand he rose and walked quickly to the doorway.

A few minutes later, through the monitor, Faye heard Piers enter the baby’s room. He made soothing sounds as he obviously picked the little boy up and tried to settle him. She felt as though she was eavesdropping on something precious and wished like crazy she could get up and walk away. That she could forget the man upstairs and the child he cared for. But she knew that both of them had somehow inveigled their way into her heart. She shook her head at her own stupidity. How had she let that happen? Why?

Casey had obviously soiled his diaper, and she could hear Piers gagging in the background as he cleaned the little boy up. Obviously he was going to be a while. Faye gathered their plates and took them through to the kitchen where she put them in the oven, which she set on warm. No need for cold dinner, she thought.

She went back to the table and played with her water glass, trying not to listen as Piers struggled through the diaper change. There was something about hearing her handsome, capable boss being so completely out of his element that really appealed to her. Her hand to her mouth, she tried to hold back the chuckle that rose from deep inside.

Eventually, Piers resettled the child and returned to the conservatory.

“I hope you washed your hands,” she teased.

“As if my life depended on it.” Piers shook his head. “I still can’t believe a baby can do that.”

Faye felt a smile pull at her lips but fought to hide it. “Just wait till he projectile v—”

“Don’t!” Piers barked, holding up a hand in protest. “Just don’t.”

Faye shrugged. “It’s not all roses, is all I’m saying.”

“I’ve discovered that,” Piers replied ruefully.

“I’ll get our plates,” she said, rising. “That’s if you’re still hungry?”

Piers pulled a face. “I guess I could still eat. Especially after Meredith went to all that effort.”

“Good choice.” Faye tossed the words over her shoulder as she went through to the kitchen to retrieve their meals.

“Thanks for keeping it warm for me,” Piers said as he picked up his knife and fork.

“It’s nothing.”

“You do that all the time. Did you know that?”

“Do what?”

“Diminish what you do.”

“Do I?”

Faye stopped and thought for a bit. She had to concede he was probably right.

“Why is that? Don’t you think that what you do is good enough? That you’re good enough?”

Faye just looked at him in surprise. She’d never really stopped to consider it before.

Piers continued, “Because you are. You’re better than good enough. You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had and I know you apply yourself one hundred percent to everything you do.”

She looked away, uncomfortable with the praise. Wasn’t it enough that she just did her job? Did he have to talk about it?

“But what about your personal life, Faye?” He pressed on. “You have friends, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” she answered automatically.

“You never talk about them.”

“I thought I’d made it clear. My private life is private.”

“Faye, I want to be a part of your private life. I want to be a part of your life altogether.”

“I can’t do that,” she answered, shaking her head.

“So far you haven’t given me a decent reason as to why not. And I won’t back down without one. You know I don’t give up when I want something.”

She pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “I’m not just something to be wanted, Piers. And I don’t have to give you a reason for anything. You’re my boss. So far, you’ve been a good one, but I’m beginning to revise my opinion on that.”

“Is that why you won’t let anything develop between us?” he said, swiftly coming around the table to stand between her and the exit. “Because I’m your boss? Because if it is, then I’ll fire you here and now so we can be together.”

There was another sound from the monitor and Faye went rigid.

Piers looked at her with questions in his eyes. “Is it Casey? Or is it me?”

“No, it’s neither of you,” she lied, her voice a little more than a whisper. “I just don’t want to get involved. With anyone. Look, thanks for dinner. I have to go.”

She pushed past him and all but ran to the living room, where she grabbed her bag and headed for the front door. Piers was a second behind her. She spun around to face him.

“Yes, before you say it, I am running away. It’s how I deal with stuff, okay? If I don’t like a situation I’m in, I remove myself from it.”

“But you do like me, don’t you, Faye?” He stepped a little closer, his strong, warm hands clasping her upper arms and pulling her gently to him. “In fact, you more than like me. You’re just fighting it. If it makes it any easier, I more than like you, too. In fact, I—”

“Don’t!” Faye pressed her fingers to his mouth before he could say another word. “Don’t say anything, please. I don’t deserve it.”

And with that she tugged loose from his grasp, pulled open the front door and hightailed it to her car.