Читать книгу Once in a Lifetime - Gwynne Forster, Gwynne Forster - Страница 9

“Well, I’ll be damned. If she’s a housekeeper, I’m William the Conqueror.” Russ walked into the kitchen hoping that Henry would enlighten him, but he wasn’t there. He moved up the stairs at a slow pace. Surely, Telford hadn’t lost his mind and hired that woman to… He stopped on the stairs, took out his cell phone and dialed Telford’s cell number.

He skipped the greeting. “Man, I just got home, and this woman who looked as if she was about to entertain the governor opened the door and told me she’s the housekeeper. Tell me she’s lying or that you’re having a little fun at my expense.”

“Henry’s getting too old to look after that big house, and the place needs more than a—”

Russ sucked in his breath and interrupted his older brother. “So what you’re telling me is the woman gliding around here in a long red getup is a housekeeper you hired. Have you lost your mind?”

“She’s competent. How’d it go in Barbados?’

“More or less as we thought. Five stories and a one-level basement is the maximum, and don’t try to get me off the subject of this glamour girl who’s posing as a housekeeper.” The more he thought about losing his privacy, the madder he got. “I don’t care if she has a PhD in housekeeping, I’m not changing my life for her. You expect me to walk around here fully clothed, keep my room door closed and—”

“Give it a rest, Russ. She and I signed a two-year contract, and it’s binding. Besides, she not a housekeeper; the contract says she’s a homemaker.”

“Whatever. You could at least have hired somebody who looked like a housekeeper. Humph. Homemaker. I thought she was Drake’s latest conquest, and I think I upset her by acting as if she were.”

Telford’s whistle pierced his ears. “I’ll bet that rang her bell.”

“Did it ever. You should have seen how fast her back went up. Where are you right now?”

“I’m in Frederick.”

“Well, you’d better come here and straighten out this mess. Give her a big severance check. Anything. She’s got to go.”

“Not a chance, Russ. By the way, dinner is at seven; hat off in the house; no swearing; no loud voice; we all eat together; and we say grace at meals.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” He couldn’t believe the snicker he heard coming through the wire, but there it was again.

“New house rules. I’ll get in late tonight. See you.”

Russ stared at the dial tone. He was having none of it. After dumping his bags in a corner of his room and kicking off his shoes, he charged, barefooted, downstairs in search of anybody against whom he could release a little venom.

“Hello. What’s your name?”

He whirled around and banged his head against the antique chest that had stood in that spot in the hallway since before he was born. He was on his way out of his mind. He was certain of it.

“My name is Tara. Who’re you?”

He looked down at her and tried to collect his wits. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Maybe you’ll tell me who you are.”

“I already told you. Where’s Mr. Telford?”

“He’s…uh…out of town, but when he gets back here, you will definitely know it.”

“You want to see Biscuit?”

“Biscuit?”

“Biscuit is my little puppy. Mr. Henry gave him to me.”

He looked toward the ceiling and fought the urge to bare his teeth. Animals did not belong in a house, and especially not if he lived there. “Did he, now? Where’s your mother, Tara?”

To his surprise, she took his hand and smiled. “She’s around here.”

He’d been in a trance ever since he walked in the door, so he submitted to the eerie feeling that he might have lost his mind, allowed her to hold his hand and followed her.

“There you are, darling.”

He stopped and waited until Alexis reached him. “I assume this is your kid.”

“You assume wrong. She’s a little girl, my daughter.”

He ran his hand over his silky curls and regrouped. “Didn’t mean to be offensive, but this… Well, it’s unsettling at best. I don’t know what my brother was thinking about. With two females in this… This is a man’s preserve, and with you here, we’ll have to reinvent ourselves. This isn’t going to work.”

She folded her arms, as relaxed as if she were unaware of his annoyance. “You’ll hardly ever run into either one of us, and when you do, you’ll find you don’t mind it at all. We’ll see you at dinner. Come along, Tara.”

“Wait a second. Didn’t you understand me? I said this isn’t—”

This housekeeper had the temerity to interrupt him. “I heard you, but you want to quarrel with somebody. Anybody will do, but I never argue. We’ll see you at dinner. Seven o’clock.”

She took her daughter’s hand, turned and left him standing there.

Housekeeper, huh? Queen of Sheba was more like it. He went to the telephone in the hallway and dialed Henry’s cottage. When he didn’t get an answer, he dialed Henry’s room off the kitchen.

“Henry. I’m trying to sleep.”

“How are you, Henry? This is Russ. I came—”

“I know good and well who it is, and I still need my sleep.”

“And I need some answers. Where did Telford find Alexis Stevenson? How long’s she been here, and what about this little girl and this puppy? This is no place for grown men anymore.”

“No? Things musta changed since I was your age. She’s the housekeeper, and you needn’t raise a stink about Tara, ’cause she’s got your brothers in her pocket.”

“And you, too, I suppose.”

“Well, she is a right cute little tyke, and just as sweet as anything. Might as well get up, since you broke my rest. Supper’s at seven.”

Russ hung up and headed back to his room. An outsider in his own home.

Although she was off duty, Alexis set the table for dinner in the breakfast room. The sooner she got Russ Harrington off his high horse the better, though she suspected he’d resist change until a crisis forced him to be reasonable. She arranged the table with embroidered linen place mats, family-heirloom porcelain, silver and crystal goblets, flowers and lighted candles in silver candlesticks. She’d overdone it, but that was her way of declaring war. Her child deserved a peaceful, happy environment, not an atmosphere soured by Russ’s disgruntlement. She hoped Drake would be home for dinner, because the prospect of eating with Russ and only Tara as a buffer all but took her appetite.

At seven o’clock, she and Tara took their places at the table, and to her surprise, Russ joined them immediately. No one had to tell her he wasn’t motivated by a spirit of cooperation. The man was anxious to strike back.

“What the… Is somebody getting married?”

“I eat at a properly set dinner table,” she said, smiling her best smile. “I try to make the home comfortable, a happy place.”

“You’re kidding. This looks as if you’re expecting the president, or some big shot’s getting married. I don’t call this comfortable.”

She looked at him and smiled, though she knew he was vexed. If he took pleasure in eating with them, he had to be the world’s best actor. He picked up his fork.

“You have to say grace first,” Tara told him. “My mummy always says it before we eat.”

Russ looked steadily at the child, but he didn’t say grace.

“Would you like to say it, Tara?” Alexis asked her daughter.

Tara offered a long, colorful supplication, and Alexis’s respect for Russ mounted with the minutes, for he didn’t attempt to stop her and didn’t begin eating until she finished. In fact, it was the sound of Telford’s voice that ended Tara’s grace; she would have dashed to greet him, if Alexis hadn’t restrained her.

“How’s everybody? Am I late?”

Russ stood, and the way in which they clasped each other tightly told her much about the Harrington men. In spite of Russ’s displeasure with Telford because he’d hired her, he greeted his brother with affection.

“You’re in time,” Alexis said. “We hadn’t started eating.”

“That’s because Tara here treated us to the longest grace I ever heard. I expect she’d still be at it, if you hadn’t walked in. Look, man, this is a hefty dose you’re pouring out.”

Telford ignored him. “Be back as soon as I wash up. That’s another thing. Our homemaker says no dirty hands at the table.” She glimpsed the twinkle in his eye and realized that he enjoyed jostling with Russ.

“Put a lid on it,” Russ said, reaching for his fork. “Who taught you to say grace?” he asked Tara.

“My mummy. Is Mr. Telford coming back?”

He helped himself to a broiled hamburger, tasted it and grimaced. “Henry’s losing it,” he said in reference to the hamburger, then looked at Alexis. “Is she stuck on Telford? What’s Drake’s reaction to this?”

“He graciously capitulated.”

“Hmmm.”

She nearly sighed in relief when Telford sat down, but she knew at once that Russ intended to press for her dismissal when he said, “I’m going to speak to Henry about these meals. And you’ve got a lot to account for, brother.”

“Not till after I eat,” Telford said. He spoke in a gentle tone, but she knew, and she didn’t doubt that Russ knew, that Telford meant what he said.

“How’s Biscuit?” he asked Tara, signaling to Russ that the matter of Alexis’s status was closed for the moment.

As if she’d been waiting for him to acknowledge her presence, Tara’s face bloomed into a smile. “He’s asleep. I fed him like you said.” She looked at Russ. “His name is Biscuit ’cause Mr. Telford likes biscuits.”

A half smile flashed briefly across Russ’s mouth. “In that case, I’m surprised you didn’t name him sausage. Or maybe grits.”

“Lay off, Russ,” Telford said. He looked at Tara. “We’ll have to get him a real puppy bed. I’ll speak to Henry about it.”

Telford had spoken directly to Tara and to his brother, but he hadn’t said a word especially to Alexis; indeed, he hadn’t let his gaze connect with hers.

Tara thanked him and blessed him with one of her most brilliant smiles. Alexis watched in amazement when Telford smiled lovingly at her daughter. She didn’t know what to think. It was as if he wanted her to know that he didn’t welcome the intrusion, but wouldn’t punish the child because of it. Yet… Lost in her thoughts, she lifted the large Waterford crystal pitcher of iced tea and would have spilled it if Telford hadn’t reached across the table and grabbed it. He looked at her then, filled her glass and handed it to her.

“Maybe we should use smaller pitchers. This one’s heavy.”

“Come now,” Russ said. “You don’t mind doing it for her, do you?”

“You’re way out of line, Russ. You want to say something to me, save it for later. And lay off Alexis.”

Her gaze flew to Russ. She hadn’t detected any animosity or hostility in his voice, but Telford took offense. She wanted to go back to her room, but she couldn’t think of a way to do that without giving the impression that Russ had displeased her. Tara yawned, giving her the perfect excuse.

“You can’t go yet,” Telford said when she took Tara’s hand and attempted to leave the table. “I brought Tara some black-cherry ice cream.” He got up to go to the kitchen and stopped beside Tara. “Henry said you like it.”

Tara removed her hands from her mouth, where she’d clasped them to prevent herself from squealing, and laughed. “I love it.”

“I’m bringing it,” Henry said. “You should’ve bought some cake, Tel. Black-cherry ice cream without cake is as bad as bread with no butter.” He gave Tara a dish containing five scoops.

“You didn’t tell me she liked cake.”

“You bought ice cream?” Russ asked, his face the picture of incredulity. “And you practically gave her the whole half gallon,” he said to Henry, who stood by waiting to see her eat it. “Are you trying to kill her?”

Alexis raised her head and glanced at Telford with the intention of thanking him for bringing Tara’s favorite ice cream, but she couldn’t utter a word, only trembled with excitement when she saw the naked desire blazing in his eyes. She glanced past Telford to the knowing look on Russ’s face. Telford hooded his eyes, but she knew she hadn’t imagined it for she had responded to him from the depth of her being.

Still, she was glad for Russ’s presence, because she wouldn’t have bet on what might have happened if she and Telford had been alone at that moment. He generated a warmth, a sweetness that wove him into her like an artist’s needles subduing yarn. The tremble of his bottom lip titillated her woman’s need, shortening her breathing, and he saw it. She knew he did; nothing else would account for the fire of passion that leaped back into his gaze. She had no defense against the primal need that she saw in him. Everything about him beckoned her and claimed her, and she couldn’t help shifting in her chair as his heat singed her. With her eyes closed to banish from her presence the man who tantalized her, who represented the living embodiment of temptation…and maybe ruin, she struggled for composure. What had she gotten herself into?

“I turned the floodlights on out back,” Henry said, making Telford aware that he and Alexis were not alone. “But the one near the guest room didn’t come on. Wouldn’t matter, if it wasn’t for Tara and Alexis. The light might make ’em feel more comfortable.”

“I’ll have a look at it. Could be the fuse.” Any reason to focus on something other than the woman in front of him.

But Russ clearly had other concerns and didn’t hesitate to express them. “When are we going to talk, Telford?”

He narrowed his eyes. If his brother meant to be troublesome about Alexis and Tara, he wouldn’t tolerate it. A contract—whether by word of mouth or in writing—was binding. “About Frenchman’s Village in Barbados, or about…things here?”

“Things here. We can talk about the village when Drake gets back. Where is he?”

“In Philadelphia. He thinks we need lighter-weight material for the top six floors of the Griffith-Joyner houses, and he’s testing some products. I’m going to check on that light.”

“Can I go, too, Mr. Telford?”

When she ran to him and took his hand, her little brown face shimmering with delight, her smile said, I think you’re wonderful, extra special. And though he tried to resist her, joy pervaded his whole being. Before he stopped to consider his action and what it implied, he swung her up on his shoulders, braced her hands on his head and gave the laughing little girl the ride of her life as he strode swiftly to the room she shared with her mother.

Russ’s astonished “Well, I’ll be…” followed in his wake.

“Mind if I duck out here?” Telford asked Alexis, pointing to the door of the anteroom that was designed as a sitting room, but which was now Tara’s room.

“Of course I don’t mind.” She didn’t look at him when she said it, evidence enough that she was as conscious of him as he was of her.

Tara yanked on his hand. “Want to see my keyboard?”

He wanted to give his self-control a break and get out of there, but she took his hand and he followed her into what seemed to be her room. She sat at the portable keyboard and played finger exercises. Then, she asked if he could play.

“I used to.”

She moved, and he sat down and played several nursery rhymes and some Beatles songs that she seemed to appreciate more. It was too cozy, too much like his youthful dreams and too dangerous.

“Look, I…I have to be going. That light…”

She reached over and hugged him then, her little arms tight around his neck, communicating a need to which, God help him, he responded with every fiber of his being. When she released him, her little face illuminated with smiles, he stared down at her, suddenly pensive, contemplating a truth he’d just learned: this little girl had plugged up a hole, obliterated an emptiness he’d had in him nearly all of his life. She went back to her finger exercises and was soon lost in the pleasure of them. He patted her shoulders and, humbled by the child’s healing love, walked with measured steps out of her room to where Alexis filled his vision, and he received his second shock: tears streamed down her face. And he’d thought her unflappable.

He rushed to her. “What is it? What’s the matter? Alexis, why are you crying?”

His hands went toward her shoulders but didn’t touch them. She wiped at her tears with the back of her hand and tried to speak, but the strength of whatever she felt overwhelmed her, and the tears became a deluge, cascading down her face.

Her loss of composure cut to the quick, and he thought he’d go insane if he couldn’t comfort her. With a groan, he pulled her into the protection of his arms.

“Tell me what hurts you, and if it can be fixed, I’ll fix it. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

She didn’t move from him, and he clasped her tighter, relishing her nearness and the womanly scent that perfumed his nostrils.

“What is it?” he urged.

“Tara. Her…her father never had time for her. Yet, as busy as I know you are, you sat there and played that keyboard for her, giving her what she’s missed so badly. I don’t know how to th—”

“Don’t. Don’t thank me. Look, I…I’d better check out that floodlight.”

He knew his limit, and he was inches from it. He opened the screen door and stepped out into the garden, still feeling her flesh in his hands, her softness against his chest. He leaned against the side of the house, took deep breaths and counted to ten as he inhaled and exhaled. In thirty-six years, he’d never been so strung out.

Standing where he left her, Alexis, too, let the wall take her weight. Maybe he had herculean self-control, or maybe he didn’t want her as badly as she’d thought. Whatever the reason why he could hold her so tenderly and then walk away when her whole being screamed for his loving, she should be grateful. She rubbed her arms and knew that was a substitute for his warmth. It wasn’t right, and she would regret it, but she wanted him to kiss her so badly that she burned for it.

He knocked on the screen door. “May I come in? I have to get a flashlight.”

“I have one.” She handed it to him, keeping a good distance away.

“Could you hold it while I check out this fuse box?”

She stepped outside in the cool spring night and trained the beam on the light meter. After about ten minutes during which he worked silently, he closed the box.

“Must be the bulb, but I can’t change that tonight.”

“I don’t need that light, Telford.”

He raised himself up from his squatting position. “Then I’ll do it after I get home tomorrow.”

The moonlight cast a glow over his face that softened his features, and gave his hazel-brown eyes a sexy, almost wanton magnetism. She stared at him; she couldn’t help it. Her gaze darted to his broad chest with its pectorals prominent beneath his T-shirt, back to his square chin and settled on his mouth.

She knew the moment had come, when he took the flashlight from her fingers and she heard the gadget fall to the grass. It didn’t occur to her that she ought to move.

“Alexis, if you want our relationship to remain exactly as it is, get back in that house. Now.”

She didn’t want it to change, but she wanted to be in his arms. Needed the warmth and loving that a faithless marriage had denied her. Her head said move, but her heart said stay where you are.

“Did you understand what I said? Did you?”

The hoarse, guttural sounds, so unlike his mellifluous voice, excited her, and a strange heat began wafting its way through her veins. She opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came.

Like lightning, he had her in his arms and lifted her until he pressed them breast to chest and belly to belly. One of his big, powerful hands locked to her buttocks and the other to the back of her head. He stared into her face, and then his mouth came down on her, hard and trembling.

“Open for me. Let me in you.”

He parted her lips with his tongue, commanding her to take him. And she did. Hot darts danced inside her and her senses whirled dizzily when at last she had him. His tongue danced within her mouth, tasting, anointing, driving in and out in a symbolic act of love. He teased and tantalized until she gripped him to her and moans sprang from deep in her throat. Frustrated, she twisted against his chest, and experienced man that he was, his fingers found her nipple and pinched and rubbed until she cried aloud.

“Telford, I can’t stand this.”

The tips of his callused fingers brushed her chest before dipping into the scooped-neck caftan and freeing her breast for his rapacious mouth. His tongue, moist, warm and sweet, curled around her erected aureole, bringing a keening cry from her as he suckled her with a wild, animal hunger until electric shocks pelted her feminine core.

Stunned as, for the first time in her life, love’s liquid flowed freely from her, she attempted to move away from him.

“What’s the matter?” he whispered, as if he feared startling her. “Have I…done something wrong?”

Embarrassed, she buried her face in his shoulder. “It’s… I’m sorry…it went further than I… I let it get out of hand.”

He eased her to her feet, but his arm stayed snug around her. “I don’t want you to be upset. There’s no point in that. Both of us knew the minute we first looked at each other that this would happen. Right?”

He caressed her cheek, rhythmically, the way he’d stroked her breast and, to stop his assault on her senses, she covered his hand with her own. But to him, it must have been a gesture of affection, for he kissed her forehead.

“If you had left here then, it could have been a year from now, but I think I would eventually have gone after you.”

“Yes, we both knew, but we didn’t want it to happen,” she whispered.

“In these circumstances? No, we didn’t, but I wouldn’t exchange it for anything. Still, I’ll try to keep my hands off you.”

She couldn’t help smiling at that. “I don’t question your honor.”

He stared until she wanted to lose herself in his eyes. Then he tipped her chin with his right index finger. “You are one beautiful woman. And I’m not talking about looks, though there’s definitely that, too. I mean you are everything a man needs. I’ll see you at breakfast. Sleep well.” He opened the screen door, strode through her room and out of sight.

She sat on the edge of her bed, grateful for a moment of privacy while Tara plunked away at the keyboard. Jack Stevenson hadn’t known what to do with her or, if he had, he hadn’t bothered to apply that knowledge. Maybe she’d asked to be treated as if she were cold porcelain, but she didn’t think so. Until tonight, she had no basis for comparison, but she’d always thought petting and sex ought to be both more demanding and more rewarding. When Jack didn’t show any concern for her lack of response, she began to resent his own release and finally reached the point where she tuned out, even when they were supposed to be making love. After the first six or seven months, she stopped hoping and, as time passed, she no longer tried to feel anything.

She could think of a dozen reasons why she should stay away from Telford Harrington, including the fact that he liked his life as it was. Girl, you’d better use some discipline. If you don’t you’re headed for trouble. If she didn’t use self-control. Precisely what she didn’t want to do.

He had hoped that Russ wouldn’t broach the matter of Tara and Alexis that night. He didn’t have the patience or the will to deal with his brother’s displeasure at his having hired Alexis. It wouldn’t hurt him to shave every day and observe rules of common decency in communal living. All three of them needed to clean up their acts and stop taking self-indulgence to such extremes. He bypassed the den and headed for his room, but Russ would not be deterred and waited for him at the top of the stairs.

“Look, Telford, I suspect it’s useless to ask you to reconsider this. But have you thought about what it’ll be like for her in the midst of four men? This isn’t the place for her, and what about that child? In two weeks, she’ll know every cuss word ever spoken.”

Telford loved his brothers, and he valued their camaraderie and peaceful relations, but this matter was not negotiable. “She stays, Russ. I gave her a contract. I don’t like our disagreeing about something so fundamental as who lives in our home. She’s intelligent, and if she finds that you’re not comfortable around her, I’m sure she’ll avoid you as much as possible. As for the cuss words, Tara won’t learn any in this house.”

“Aw, hell, man. I’m not stupid. A five-year-old could feel the chemistry between the two of you. Tara feels it. And another thing, you can break that little girl’s heart.”

He stared at Russ. “Right. That must be the reason you want me to send her away from here. Don’t expect anything to happen between Alexis and me.” He couldn’t help smiling. “As for Tara, I think she’s got my number.”

Russ raised an eyebrow and let a smile play around his mouth. “If she’s got your number, her mother’s got your address. I just talked with Drake, and he thinks I ought to go up to Philadelphia tomorrow and check the new material he’s considering. You want to examine it, too?”

“Not unless the two of you disagree, and that isn’t likely. I need to keep an eye on that school. That dedication ceremony will go on as scheduled, and the bell will ring for the first day of school on September seventh if I have to hold up that building with my back.” He knocked his left hand into his right palm and ground his teeth. “Fentress Sparkman will be sorry he ever heard of our dad, and it will be a long time before he turns the screw on another one or his partners. I’ve got him this time.”

“Yeah. Just be sure you can give it your full attention.”

Another allusion to Alexis. Both of his brothers wanted the best for him. He knew that, but he didn’t give either of them the right to choose his friends and tamper with his relationships. He told Russ good-night and went to his room, where he paced the floor for half an hour.

She had a wallop like nothing he’d ever experienced. It scared the hell out of him and yet, it felt like coming home to a warm, welcoming fire when you were practically frozen. Unfortunately, he couldn’t let anything happen between him and Alexis Stevenson, though he dared not let himself think about the hot lover she’d be. He shook his head. Not only did she work for him, but she could bring him to his knees the way his mother did his father whenever she got the notion. Besides, he liked his life as it was. He amended that. As it had been, and he’d make certain it stayed that way.

“I’m bringing a friend home for dinner,” he told Henry several mornings later. With Russ and Drake in Philadelphia, he figured he had to do something to put a damper on what was becoming a cozy, family atmosphere with Alexis, Tara and himself. He behaved impersonally with her and kept his hands to himself, though at great cost. But they were like missiles, headed directly at each other, primed for a massive explosion. And nobody would believe what passed for conversation between them. Banality hardly described it.

“Does this friend eat a lot, or does she pick at the food like she was scared it was gonna rise up and bite her?”

At times, he would like to give Henry a piece of his mind, but that would be the same as cussing his father. “Just prepare enough for another adult.”

“And here I was hoping you’d lost her in some nice place like the Bermuda wrangle.”

“You mean Triangle. And, Henry, could you please stop meddling in my business?”

“Humph. Guess you in a hurry for the Fourth of July fireworks. Them two women ain’t gonna like this. You think Alexis gonna hold still for that stuff Evangeline…’scuse me, Miss Evangeline puts down? I’m gonna eat a big lunch to give me plenty energy. I’ll need it for all the laughing I’m gonna have to do.” Henry looked up toward the ceiling and started whistling “Takin’ Care of Business.”

Telford swallowed what remained of his coffee, picked up an umbrella and headed for the Eagle Park High School construction site. Henry had never liked Evangeline, and she’d never been special to him. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked her to dinner, but what else could he do? Heat flared in his loins every time he looked at Alexis; if he couldn’t cool down on his own, maybe after tonight she’d force him to do it. He was halfway across town before he remembered that he hadn’t told Tara good-bye.

As soon as he reached the trailer that housed his temporary office at the corner of Mountain and Edgecomb, he phoned her.

“Henry, is Tara eating breakfast?”

“Ain’t you supposed to be asking her mother that? Hold on.”

“Hi, Mr. Telford. Where are you?”

“I’m at work. I had to leave early this morning, so I called to tell you good-bye.”

“Good-bye. When you coming home?”

“I’ll be there for supper. See you then.”

“Lots of kisses. Bye.”

He hung up. He hadn’t said what he felt, but enough to let her know he hadn’t forgotten her. Somehow, he felt lighter than before. That little girl had gotten inside him, and it wasn’t a question of liking it or not. It just was.

Since the night they gave in to the fire burning in them for each other, he and Alexis hadn’t gotten close enough to touch, except at mealtime when they had Tara and Henry to help them use common sense. She hadn’t made one move toward him, and he knew it was because she didn’t think a relationship with him appropriate, much as she might desire it. So if she didn’t want him, he reasoned, seeing him with Evangeline shouldn’t bother her. Yeah. And the sun rises in the west. He’d cross that bridge when he got there.

Alexis sensed a difference before she got to the kitchen; the house seemed empty for so early in the morning.

“Just you and Tara this morning,” Henry told her. “Tel had to leave early.”

So that was it. If she could sense his absence from a house that big, she had better avoid him altogether. Nothing in her contract said she had to eat her meals with him; indeed, most housekeepers—and that’s what she was, no matter if the contract specified homemaker—didn’t eat with their bosses. She slapped her forehead. Not being able to eat with Telford would devastate Tara.

From somewhere in the distance she heard Henry’s voice. “…and wear that long red thing at supper tonight. Telford’s planning to commit social suicide.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“Means he’s bringing company.”

Cold marbles danced around in her belly, and moisture beaded on her forehead. “Are you telling me he’s bringing a woman friend home with him this evening?”

She’d learned that Henry never answered a question directly if he could do it some other way. He raised an eyebrow. “Like I said, come in here looking good. Course, you’d make her look bad if you showed up in dungarees. And fix the supper table real nice.”

Although she appreciated his gesture of friendship, she was too annoyed to show it. “What makes you think I care who Telford Harrington brings here?”

“’Cause you do. But don’t worry none. She won’t spend the night. Never has. He ain’t that crazy.”

That conversation weighed on her as she did the morning chores. Put on that caftan? No way. She intended to wear her red silk sleeveless jumpsuit. He’d get an eyeful whether she was sitting down or walking away from him. She set the table with the best Harrington appointments, added candles and a bouquet of red, white and yellow roses and surveyed the result with satisfaction.

She dressed Tara in a jumpsuit that matched her own, combed the child’s hair out and sprayed it with a lilac scent. Then she showered, put on the red suit, fastened gold hoops to her ears, let down her hair below her shoulders and dabbed Obsession perfume where it counted. She didn’t believe in going to war unless you meant to win.

For whatever reason he’d brought a woman home with him, he remembered that they ate at seven. It wasn’t she, but Henry, who usually opened the door for the brothers, but when the bell rang at a quarter of seven, she beat him to it. Telford gaped at her, speechless and obviously dumbfounded until Tara ran between them and hugged his legs.

“Mr. Telford, I got your telephone call today.” Tara held her arms up for a hug, but he didn’t see the child. His gaze was glued to Alexis.

“Can I have a hug?” That got his attention, and he reached down, lifted her and stroked her back. “Do you like how I look?”

“You’re beautiful, and I like it.” She kissed his cheek and he set her on the floor.

“What a touching little scene.”

His head snapped around. “Oh. Sorry. Ms. Moore, this is Mrs. Alexis Stevenson, our homemaker.”

Alexis sized her up and smiled. The woman wouldn’t resist being catty. She extended her hand. “How do you do, Ms. Moore. This is my daughter, Tara.”

“Hi, Miss Moore.” Tara’s greeting lacked enthusiasm.

“Sure you’re a housekeeper?”

Alexis let a smile drift over her face. “If you want to know how competent I am, I guess you’ll have to ask Telford.” With that double entendre, she led them to the living room, aware that she’d made Evangeline Moore blanch. Whether from annoyance or embarrassment, she didn’t know or care. “Would you like something to drink, Ms. Moore? Lemonade or iced tea?” She figured that, as homemaker, she was also hostess. And since she was certain that her tactics didn’t please Telford, she didn’t bother to look at him.

“I’d like a dry martini,” Evangeline said, “and shake it well.”

Alexis sat down, crossed her left leg over her right knee and swung her left foot. “That’s Telford’s domain. I have no idea how to mix a martini.”

She had to stifle the giggles that threatened to spill out of her when she finally looked at Telford and saw his murderous glare. She wanted to dance for joy. He’d get her for it later, but she didn’t care. He started to the refrigerator, and Tara ran to him.

“Mr. Telford, is Miss Moore your mummy?”

“What?” Evangeline jumped from the chair and pointed her finger at Alexis. “Did you tell her to say that?”

“I didn’t, and I apologize for her innocent mistake.”

Telford knelt beside Tara. “No, she isn’t, Tara. She’s my friend and our dinner guest.”

“Is she going to stay with us?”

“No. She’s just here for dinner.”

“Oh.” She ran over to Evangeline. “I’m glad Mr. Telford has a friend.”

He looked at Evangeline, waiting for her response, and when she didn’t say anything, he walked over to Alexis. “Could we have dinner now?”

“What about the martini?”

“I don’t have any vermouth.”

She promised herself she’d check the bar first thing in the morning. Standing, she took Tara’s hand. “Come along, darling.”

He nearly laughed when Evangeline walked into the dining room and gasped. As though it were all especially for her, she headed for the place opposite his own as head of the table and found Alexis seating herself there.

“That’s Mummy’s seat. You can sit here beside me.” Tara patted the chair next to hers.

“I’ll sit over here.”

Tara was too innocent and sweet to realize it, but she was needling Evangeline more than Alexis was. He knew Evangeline wouldn’t show patience for one of Tara’s long graces, so he took the matter in hand.

“Let’s say grace.” He did, and when he glanced from one woman to the other, he saw pride and affection in one and furor in the other.

As if to make certain that he had a heart attack, Henry walked into the dining room and put a bowl in front of him and one in front of Alexis.

“Be right back with the rest.”

“Hello, Henry,” Evangeline called after him.

“Fine,” he called over his shoulder. Seconds later he returned with two more bowls, which he placed before Tara and Evangeline, in that order, then set a soup tureen in the middle of the table.

Telford ground his teeth. One of these days he was going to have to fire Henry. “I don’t believe this.”

Alexis lifted the lid from the tureen and stared at the contents. “Henry,” she called.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, arousing her suspicion, since he never addressed her that way.

“I thought we were having lamb chops for dinner and a full, five-course meal.”

“Didn’t feel like it. Besides, cabbage stew’s healthy.”

Telford thought about it for a few seconds. Tara didn’t need to see adults act ugly, so he served himself a big helping of cabbage, potatoes and smoked pig jowl.

“May I have your plate, Evangeline?”

She pushed it to him and he was certain that she deliberately shoved her soupspoon to the floor. “Get me another soupspoon, Alexis.”

He held his breath, but after Alexis’s eyes widened with momentary shock, a smile drifted over her face, and he exhaled.

“If you ask Henry, I’m sure he’ll bring you one. You always have to ask him nicely, though.”

Henry came in with a pitcher of lemonade, and he was glad for the opportunity to lighten the atmosphere. “Henry, would you bring Evangeline a soupspoon, please.”

“What happened to the one I gave her?”

“She threw it on the floor, Mr. Henry.”

“Tara, please don’t interrupt when adults are speaking.”

“But she did, Mummy.”

That settled it. Telford got up and went to the kitchen to get a soupspoon. Silver or not didn’t matter. Besides, he had no idea where Alexis kept that silver. He put the spoon beside Evangeline’s plate and looked at her, hoping she got his message. Let’s have some peace at this table.

At least Henry made dessert. Telford thanked him for the apple pie.

“Tara likes it, and she wants me to put black-cherry ice cream on it” was Henry’s reply.

“Would you like espresso or regular coffee, Evangeline?” Alexis asked her.

Evangeline looked at Telford. “Whatever you’re having, dear.”

“He’s having regular coffee.”

He couldn’t say she was deliberately aggravating Evangeline, but the women were so dissimilar that the difference itself had to irritate Evangeline. Why hadn’t he realized that Alexis was an upper-class woman? She had some talking to do.