Читать книгу The Home Is Where The Heart Is Collection - Maisey Yates - Страница 20
ОглавлениеSHE COULDN’T SLEEP.
Eliza lay in the comfortable bed listening to Maddie’s soft breathing and gazing out through the slats of the blinds to the pearly glow of the moonlight on the snow.
She really hated these nights, when her mind raced in a hundred directions and she just couldn’t get comfortable.
By all rights, she should be snoozing away. This just might be the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in. The mattress was the ideal firmness—not too hard, not too soft. The sheets were high-end Egyptian cotton, at least thousand-thread count. The quilted comforter was warm and cozy without being oppressively heavy.
So why was she wide awake at—she checked the readout on her phone—3:00 a.m.?
Okay, maybe she had a few reasons. So much had happened to her in the past few days, she really hadn’t had a chance to process everything—new job, new responsibilities, a new place to live, the intricacies of forging new working relationships. Underneath, as always, was the unrelenting fear that she wouldn’t be able to take care of this fragile child who depended on her for everything.
She gazed out at that slice of moonlight. For now she had a job, they had a more-than-comfortable place to live, and she had the rare luxury of time to figure out her next step—of course, she also had a great deal to do in the next week and a half.
She had taken a complete tour of the house earlier with the list of family members Aidan had given her, trying to figure out which room would work best for each of them. She found the bedroom suites empty shells containing bare-bones furniture but little else— naked beds, empty dressers and blank walls.
The public rooms of the house—the great room, the media room, the game room—were furnished and decorated, though all of them could use a little more warmth and holiday cheer.
What she had seen of Snow Angel Cove reminded her too much of an elegant hotel, she thought again. That was all fine when someone wanted to stay in an elegant hotel but Aidan’s family was coming to enjoy Christmas together in his home. They didn’t need fancy amenities as much as they needed all the comforting touches that made a place feel like a home—and she had her work cut out for her to deliver it to them given the time constraints.
She wouldn’t be able to do that work if she didn’t get some sleep. She flipped her pillow to the cooler side and rolled over but even that didn’t help her find a comfortable position that eased the ache in her wrist and her back.
Between her discomfort and her racing thoughts, she probably wasn’t going to be able to sleep anytime soon. The last time she took pain relief had been hours before, at lunchtime. Maybe swallowing her stubbornness along with some ibuprofen would be a good first step.
With a sigh, she pushed the comforter down and sat up. Good plan.
She pulled on fuzzy socks and her robe then found the baby monitor she had dug out of one of the boxes Jim and Aidan had brought in after dinner. She hadn’t had time to unpack all of them—and wasn’t sure she would, anyway, since they would only be here for a few weeks—but she had found this while looking for Maddie’s favorite cozy blanket before bedtime.
Some little burst of mother’s intuition had prompted her to include it in the boxes she had brought along to Haven Point instead of leaving it in their storage facility with the rest of their things. She had thought maybe it would come in handy if she were required to work the front desk after hours at the Lake Haven Inn and needed to leave Maddie sleeping for a while in their attached apartment.
Whatever the instinct, she was grateful to have it in this big house where she might not be able to hear her daughter wake up otherwise.
How many times over the past five and three-quarter years had something similar happened to her? One memorable time, she had been compelled to double-check a prescription she had picked up a dozen times before at the pharmacy, one she usually didn’t think twice about. She vividly remembered the cold fear cramping in her stomach when she discovered the pharmacist had made a grave error and given her a much more highly concentrated medication than Maddie’s usual dose.
It could have been a deadly mistake. If she hadn’t followed that sixth sense to check the bottle before giving it to Maddie, the overdose probably would have killed her daughter.
She liked to think Maddie had more than a few angels looking out for her.
After turning on the monitor, she slipped the receiver in her pocket then used the flashlight app on her cell phone to first find the bottle of ibuprofen in her purse and then guide her path through the boxes in the sitting room and out of her rooms toward the kitchen.
The instant she walked into the kitchen, she realized she wasn’t alone. Flames danced in the sitting area’s gas fireplace, sending out warmth and light enough to outline the shadow of someone sitting on the sofa. She felt just an instant’s fear at the unexpected before she recognized Aidan.
Was he asleep?
She started to tiptoe back to her room, not wanting to bother him, but again that instinct stopped her.
“Are you...okay?” she asked.
Her employer shifted to face her and in the shaft of snow-brightened moonlight filtering in through the window, she caught an expression of raw pain on his features before he quickly contained it.
“Fine,” he said, his voice tight.
That was a bald lie if she had ever heard one. She hesitated. It was none of her business. He was her boss, that was it, and she sensed he was also a very private man. She should just turn around and go back to her room, leaving him in peace.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t very good at doing what she should.
She took a step forward and then another. “I don’t believe you,” she said calmly.
The rough sound he made wasn’t quite a laugh, but close. “Who said you had to?”
His blue eyes gleamed silver in the moonlight and flames, his mouth set in grooves of pain. He had his elbow up on the back of the sofa and was resting his head on his hand as if his neck couldn’t bear the weight of it.
“What is it? Headache?” It seemed the logical choice, given his posture.
He made that rough sound again. “Something like that.”
“Can I get you something for it?” She held out the bottle in her hand. “I was on my way to take a couple of ibuprofen. I only came out for a glass of water.”
“I have medicine for it. I was just...delaying the inevitable.”
He reached out and flipped on the lamp beside the sofa and she saw the prescription bottle on the table at his elbow.
“I’ll get you some water,” she offered. Without waiting for a response, she crossed to the cupboard by the sink for two glasses then filled them from the filtered water pitcher in the refrigerator before returning to his side.
“Thanks,” he said when she handed him one. “You know you don’t have to wait on me.”
“It’s only a glass of water. I didn’t exactly offer to wash your feet with my tears.”
He made that same rough, not-quite-a-laugh sound, sending shivers up her spine. She did her best to ignore them. She was not going to give in to this unwelcome attraction, especially right now. The man was in pain, for heaven’s sake.
“Go on. Take your medicine so you can feel better. You’re not proving anything, except your own stubbornness.”
“That sounds like something my mother would have said.”
“You can consider me your surrogate mother, then.”
He gave her an unreadable look. “Yeah, that’s not about to happen.”
The words seemed to shiver between them like the echo of sleigh bells on the night air.
After a moment, he shook out a couple of pills from the bottle and washed them down in one gulp.
“There. Now your turn.”
Apparently, they were bonding over pain medication. These few days were turning into the most surreal of her life. Under his watchful eye, she took out a couple of ibuprofen and swallowed them back. The cold water tasted delicious and she took several more swallows.
“There. Happy now?”
“Getting there. Tell me the truth. Are you having a lot of pain from the accident?”
“No, not really. Just a bit achy. I thought a couple of ibuprofen would take the edge off. What about yours? Migraine?”
He was silent for a several moments and she thought he wasn’t going to answer her. She had the impression he was having one of those personal debates with himself like she always did.
Finally, he seemed to reach some kind of internal decision. His sigh sounded weary and a little self-conscious. “The truth is, I had brain surgery eleven weeks ago. I still have some residual headaches once in a while.”
She stared at him, quite certain she hadn’t heard him correctly. Of all the things she might have expected him to say, she never would have anticipated that answer.
“Brain surgery! You’re not serious?”
“I could be wrong, but I don’t believe most people would throw those particular words out as some kind of a joke.”
She sank down onto the easy chair next to the sofa. “Why did you... I mean...are you... Is everything okay now?”
He lifted one palm. “As far as the docs can tell. I had a brain tumor. Benign, thank God, though they weren’t sure of that at first.”
A brain tumor. Dear heavens. She tried to imagine how terrifying that must have been for a man like Aidan: successful, powerful, used to being completely in control of his own empire. His genius was legendary, even to someone outside of the tech world. Trent had been a huge fan, naturally, and used to rave about Aidan’s cutting-edge ideas. He was Caine Tech—brilliant, creative, innovative.
And apparently he had a brain tumor.
“After they figured out it was benign, they wanted to leave it alone but it started growing at a rather alarming rate so they decided it was best to remove it.”
Eleven weeks. Not even three months. How had he concealed it so well? She hadn’t seen so much as a scar. “Have you had the headaches since the surgery?”
“At first they were constant but the last month they’ve eased to once or twice a week.”
She still couldn’t imagine that, after her own experience the past thirty-six hours with pain.
“Besides the headaches is everything...okay?”
“You mean is my cognitive function impaired? Am I having hallucinations or seizures or anything? You’re the second one to ask me that today. I’m fine. I’ve had a little memory loss from right before the surgery and right after but that’s the extent of it. The doctors tell me my recovery has been nothing short of miraculous. I wouldn’t have even mentioned it if you hadn’t come in tonight and caught me in an unguarded moment.”
“I’m sorry I bothered you.”
He waved off her apology. “No need to apologize. You have every right to be here.”
“Does anything help? A warm compress? A cold one?”
“I’m fine. Usually I just need to sit in a dark room for a while.”
She rose again. “In that case, I’ll get out of your way.”
“You don’t have to leave. I’m already feeling better. You were right, I shouldn’t have been stubborn about the medication. I don’t like some of the side effects but the headache is worse than a few minor inconveniences. Sit down if you’d like.”
He wanted her to stay. Though he didn’t specifically say so, she saw a certain shadow of loneliness in his eyes, a sort of wistful hesitance in the invitation.
She paused, torn. A winter night, a flickering fire, a gorgeous, fascinating man. All in all, a dangerously irresistible combination.
How could she possibly walk away?
She sank back into the easy chair with an odd feeling of inevitability. “For a few moments. I really need to at least try to sleep tonight. I have it on good authority my new employer is a harsh taskmaster.”
“I’m sure he’s not as bad as his reputation.”
“I will have to judge that for myself, I suppose.”
In light of the information he had just shared with her, a few more pieces of the Aidan Caine puzzle seemed to click into place. “Your brain tumor is the reason you’ve invited your family to Snow Angel Cove for the holidays, isn’t it?”
He sipped at his water instead of answering but she knew suddenly she was right.
Like many people facing a personal crisis, he was turning to those who had loved him all his life—for comfort, for support, perhaps simply for a connection to the familiar.
The insight made her heart ache a little for him, even as she was aware of a tweak of envy that he had such a huge circle he could gather around him.
“I hate to mention this, but I’m going to have to insist you don’t say anything to anyone else about what I just told you,” Aidan said.
She bristled, that moment of soft compassion giving way to annoyance that he would think she was the sort of person who might run to the tabloids with this sort of juicy tidbit. “I never would! Even if I hadn’t signed a nondisclosure clause with my employment paperwork, I wouldn’t share your personal information with anyone, Aidan.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure you wouldn’t. I just had to be clear. It’s a very closely guarded secret. If it became public knowledge before I’m a hundred percent back to normal, the Caine Tech shareholders could panic. We’re in the middle of some very intricate negotiations to purchase two other companies right now and I don’t want to unnecessarily complicate matters.”
Again, that compassion squeezed her chest. The poor man. She couldn’t imagine the sort of pressure on him, where he had to be so guarded about his personal life.
On the other hand, she was keeping secrets from him about her own history and about Trent’s death, so perhaps she wasn’t in a position to judge.
“I won’t say a word,” she promised.
He sipped at his water and gazed at the flickering fire. The gas fireplaces were far more convenient than those that burned wood for fuel and were cozy enough to warm a room, but something was definitely lost without the crackle and hiss and the aroma of burning fruitwood.
“I also must insist you not mention anything about my brain tumor to my family members while they’re here.”
It was a good thing she was firmly sitting down or she would have stumbled, with her typical style and grace. “What? You mean your family doesn’t even know?”
He gave a shrug that wasn’t really an answer at all.
She stared at him, appalled. “Let me get this straight. You seriously had major surgery—someone drilled a hole in your skull and stuck a knife into your brain, for heaven’s sake—and you didn’t bother to mention this little fact to your family?”
“Technically, they removed a piece of skull and used a laser, then put the skull back. But yeah. My family doesn’t know.”
“I don’t understand. I had the impression from the way you spoke of them that you’re all quite close.”
“We are.”
“And you didn’t think they might want to know that you had a brain tumor removed?”
She couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around it—and her brain was completely intact, thank you very much. From all he had told her, his family was filled with wonderful people who gathered around each other in times of need. He had talked about his brother the wounded soldier and his other brother who had lost his wife with deep love and compassion—and yet when he needed that same hand of support, he had shut them all out.
“What good would it have done to worry everyone? Doctors first found the tumor the week before my pop’s wedding. They weren’t sure then whether it was benign or malignant. I couldn’t ruin things for him with that kind of news. And then we decided to go for the surgery while Pop was on his honeymoon. Again, I certainly wasn’t going to call him on his cruise and tell him to rush back to sit at my bedside when it was completely unnecessary.”
“Okay, I suppose I can give you that one. But what about the rest of them? Good grief, you have enough siblings for a basketball team with a couple of alternates! You don’t think a single one of them would have come to help you out?”
He winced a little at her raised voice—apparently his headache wasn’t completely gone. She was sorry for that but not sorry for her sentiment.
“It was my call and I made it. My family can be overwhelming and I didn’t want everyone fussing around me. A few trusted members of my household and corporate staff knew and that was plenty.”
She frowned, sensing something else at play here. He had purposely isolated himself from his family. Why? He obviously loved them. She would have thought he would automatically turn to them during what could have been a life-threatening health condition.
None of it was her business, she reminded herself.
“You can disagree with my decision,” he went on, his voice stiff. “But if you are unable or unwilling to promise you can keep this information to yourself while my family is here, I am very much afraid I can’t honor our employment agreement.”
She gaped at him. “Let me get this straight. You’re basically threatening to fire me before the paperwork even goes through if I so much as think about telling your family about the major brain surgery you neglected to mention to them.”
“That’s about the size of it, yeah.”
Oh, good grief. She threw up her hands. “Fine. Mum’s the word, then. I already told you I wouldn’t tell anyone. If that includes your family, so be it. Am I allowed to tell you I think you’re completely wrong? You obviously care a great deal about your family or you wouldn’t be going to so much trouble to have them all here for Christmas. I fail to see the point of even pretending to have a loving relationship if you shut them out when you need them most.”
“Duly noted. Now can we talk about something else?”
She should make some excuse and go back to bed but their disagreement seemed to have had an energizing effect. She didn’t feel tired at all, though she would undoubtedly pay the price in the morning.
“Sure. How is your headache now?”
“Better. Thanks. In case you wondered, coddling me isn’t in your job description.”
She was quite certain nagging him about his family wasn’t in there, either. “Consider it a bonus. I like to give my employers extra bang for their buck,” she said.
“Do you?” he murmured.
She could detect absolutely no innuendo in his voice but for some ridiculous reason, she could feel her face heat, anyway. She was suddenly aware again of the intimacy of the situation, the two of them virtually alone except for her sleeping child, in a darkened house, in front of a cozy fireplace.
“And you can see how well that’s been working out for me.” She tried for glibness.
“Temporary setback. You’ll get back on track.”
His confidence in her warmed her more than the gas fireplace.
The lines of strain seemed to have eased around his mouth, she saw with relief. Now he just looked lean and dark and compelling, especially with his hair a little messy and evening facial hair shadowing his features. Maybe it was the surroundings or the memory of him out with his horses but he didn’t look like the perfectly groomed executive right now, more like a sexy, slightly disreputable outlaw.
“Tell me how you became a hotel manager.”
“Assistant manager,” she corrected. “I was working my way up to manager, remember? Unfortunately, my one big shot at glory is now a pile of ash and rubble down by the lake.”
He smiled a little, as she intended. “Assistant manager, then. Why hotel management in the first place?”
She settled deeper in the comfortable chair, her mind retracing the steps that had led her to this moment. “I told you my mother died when I was in high school, right?”
He nodded. “How did it happen?”
“She worked the front desk at a small seaside motel owned by her good friend, just for a little spending money. It was only about a mile from our house and in good weather she liked to ride her bicycle to work. One night she never came home. My dad went out looking for her and finally found her mangled bike and my mom about thirty feet away. Hit-and-run driver. The police never found him. They said she died instantly.”
He flexed a hand as if he wanted to reach for her. “I’m so sorry.”
The pain of that original loss had never quite left her. Her life up to that point had focused on clothes and makeup and boys and studying hard enough to earn a scholarship, since her dad repeatedly lectured her they couldn’t afford tuition otherwise.
Her mom had been a constant source of encouragement, her biggest cheerleader. She had been funny and warm, someone everyone in town liked.
“After she died, her friend who owned the motel knew money was an issue for us. She hired me to help out during the summers and after school. I think at first I did it because it helped me feel closer to my mom but then I realized I really enjoyed it. I did check-in, housekeeping, took reservations, even learned a little about repair and maintenance. Wherever she needed help, she turned to me.”
“You must have done a good job.”
“I don’t know about that. I guess. I do know that even though I was still in high school, the owner put a great deal of trust in me and I didn’t want to let her down. It was the very best on-the-job training I could have received.”
Eliza had fantasized about taking over the Seaswept Inn eventually, but then the economy in the area took a hit and Karen had been forced to sell.
“After I graduated from high school, I was able to get a scholarship and obtained a degree in hotel management. I always wanted to open a small inn somewhere.”
Nothing big, just something she could dabble in while raising her family, too. How many times had Trent promised that when all his plans became reality, he would be able to buy her any inn she wanted? Countless. Like so many other plans they had made together when things were good, those dreams had died along with him.
“When my family arrives, you should talk to Lucy, my brother Brendan’s fiancée.”
“Oh?”
“This summer, she turned one of the historic silver-dynasty mansions in Hope’s Crossing into a bed-and-breakfast. I stayed there during my dad’s wedding and was really impressed.”
“It sounds lovely.”
“Yes. The thing is, Lucy is relatively new to the hospitality industry. I think it’s safe to say she’s still trying to figure things out. With your years of experience, you could probably give her all kinds of great tips.”
She couldn’t deny she was flattered. “Of course. I don’t know how much insight I can offer but I would love to talk shop with her.”
“Lucy is a marketing genius. Knowing her, by now she probably has network connections throughout the industry, including people who might be looking to hire someone with exactly your skills. I can have her put out some feelers for you, if you would like.”
She couldn’t afford to turn down his help. “Thanks.”
“I’m assuming you want to stay in Idaho.”
“If possible. Maddie’s doctors are all in Boise. I don’t want to have to start over somewhere new.”
“That makes sense.” He was quiet for a long moment. “How is she, really, if that’s not too intrusive a question? She seems perfectly healthy to me.”
“Right now she is. We’ve had a really good year. There’s a chance that will continue indefinitely. Some children with atypical cardiomyopathy never end up needing a transplant. Their condition is managed with a pacemaker and medication.”
“I hope that’s how things go for you and Maddie. She’s a great kid who deserves a normal, happy childhood.”
She smiled, touched by his words. “I agree. That’s been my prayer for her from the day the doctors first suspected her condition.”
“You’re a good mother. She’s lucky to have you.”
His quiet words seemed to seep into her own heart, past all her fears and inadequacies, warming a tiny space that had been cold and alone for so very long. “Thank you.”
“I mean it. I know it can’t be easy to have a child with health issues, especially when you’re on your own.”
“I’m not some kind of a saint, Aidan,” she said, her voice low. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking that. Sometimes the strain and worry over her seems more than I can bear by myself. I cry myself to sleep some nights, wishing with all my heart that we could have that normal childhood you were talking about. Sometimes I’m so damn angry at God or fate or whatever for making my baby have to suffer. Other times, I just want to pick her up and run away to some tropical island somewhere and pretend everything is fine.”
She had never told anyone that before. Not even Trent. By the time he died, their relationship had been so strained, she’d kept most of her deepest emotions locked away for fear of completely unbalancing the precarious load that had become their lives together.
Why she had confided in Aidan, she didn’t quite know. Something about the night and the fire and the snowfall seemed conducive to sharing secrets.
She shouldn’t have said anything. She barely knew the man—and he was her employer. He didn’t need to know how tangled and chaotic her psyche could be.
“You’re probably wondering what kind of hot mess you’ve hired.”
He smiled a little and she was happy to see no trace of the pain that had etched his mouth earlier. “Actually, no. I was just thinking that while I truly regret the circumstances that led to meeting you, I can’t be sorry I did.”
His low words and the expression in those vivid blue eyes seemed to shiver through her. He wasn’t looking at her like he thought she was crazy. She saw admiration and respect and something else, a spark of something hot and hungry that sent nerves suddenly jumping through her stomach like butterflies doing the paso doble.
She caught her breath. She was imagining things. She had to be. It was only a trick of the firelight. Aidan Caine, gazillionaire tech genius and all-around geek hottie, couldn’t possibly be interested in her, the perpetually stressed single mother he had rescued literally off the street the day before.
“I should go. It’s late and I have a busy day ahead tomorrow.”
If she didn’t leave, she would make a complete fool of herself over him. Hadn’t she just told him how she wanted to escape her problems and pretend they didn’t exist? He was the ultimate fantasy, the gorgeous and insanely wealthy man who would swoop in and rescue her from the stress and angst of her life.
And the whole brain-tumor thing, knowing he had walked through the valley of the shadow and all that. It brought out all her nurturing instincts and made her want to cradle his head to her breast and take care of him.
She could just see herself falling hard for him—and ending up battered and bruised emotionally. Not what she needed.
He rose as well. “Sorry I kept you up so late.”
“You didn’t. I...enjoyed talking with you.”
The flames flickered over his features, making him look rakish, slightly dangerous and infinitely appealing. She swallowed, trying to will herself to move toward her room but something seemed to hold her in place.
“Good night,” she murmured, at the same moment he said her name. Only her name, and then he murmured something that could have been a curse or a prayer and the next moment he stepped toward her and lowered his mouth to hers.
