Husband Heel (Husband Series Book 3) Page 4

  And in the end, that’s what convinced me. No matter what, I wanted to be someone Jill could trust, so I said, “Yes. Alright. Give me the details. I’ll do my best.”

  I opened a notepad and scribbled down Lizzie’s address and phone number as she rattled them off, then ended the call with a promise to ring her back when I had Lizzie here.

  I put down the phone and said to Nicholas, “I’m having a houseguest.”

  “I’ll pick her up.”

  “Thank you.” I handed him the address, then asked him to wait while I rang Lizzie on the number Jill had given me. The girl sounded hollow and confused, as if she wasn’t sure what to do. Jill had rung and told her to expect my call, but it was awkward. We’d never met. Still, she appeared desperate enough to accept.

  So while Nicholas went to collect her—leaving the kitten in a makeshift playpen constructed out of pillows on a Chesterfield—I showered, trying not to be horrified by my makeup-smeared face as I cleansed it.

  Nicholas was an employee. It didn’t matter how I’d appeared to him. Or at least that’s what I told myself as I dressed in a casual black and white floral dress and heeled sandals. I reapplied my makeup carefully, telling myself it was simply the lack of professionalism that was bothering me.

  I should never have let my personal life intrude on our professional relationship. But it was done now. There was no going back. So I must simply behave as professionally as I could from now on.

  And I had to admit, having Lizzie come and stay was a good distraction, and also a good rationale for cancelling my appointments for the next few days. Thinking about catering and baby equipment settled me into routines that were normal, and a world away from The Rocks Club and what I’d experienced there.

  Or so I thought until the phone rang. It was the matron of the club, and far sooner than I’d expected, I had my feedback. “…sorry but Roy,” not his real name, “…said he didn’t want to ‘attend’ you again, and he indicated that perhaps you didn’t belong here. So I’m sorry Mrs. Knight, but I’m afraid we won’t be able to cater to your needs in the future.”

  I’m not sure what I said in reply. I put the phone down in a daze. What had I done? This went beyond bile. A practiced masochist was rejecting me. Had he said his safe word and I hadn’t heard it? I wasn’t strong, so I hadn’t hit him as hard as a man would, surely? Although…there had been a moment when I’d seen his erection that I’d lost control.

  I was still overwhelmed by this shocking rejection when I heard the rumble of the garage door opening. Any minute, Nicholas would lead Lizzie through the house and into the library where I’d asked him to bring her.

  I didn’t have time for hysterics. I needed control of my body, of my life, and most especially of my emotions.

  Chapter Three

  Thankfully, Lizzie was a known commodity, appearing exactly as Jill had described her—a tiny person with fluffy blond hair and wide innocent eyes which unfortunately for me, were awash with tears. From the moment Nicholas settled her onto a chair and escaped to deposit her belongings in the guest room, she cried and her baby wailed. I couldn’t get any sense out of her but I had to admit, I was immensely grateful for the distraction.

  At the twenty-minute mark, however, I reached the end of my tolerance so I stood and headed for the door. “I’ll make tea,” I said, not bothering to wait for her reply.

  Nicholas was on a white leather Chesterfield with the kitten on his lap, reading a book as I walked past the living room. He looked up with an inquiring expression, but I had nothing to say, so I continued to the kitchen where I took painkillers to settle my headache while the kettle boiled.

  By the time I had a teapot organized on a tray he was at the kitchen door. “I put her things in the green guestroom upstairs and set up the portable crib.”

  “Thank you.” I didn’t look at him. In fact, I would prefer if he wasn’t in the house, but at that point I wasn’t sure how to order him out. I felt disturbed by his presence, and that hadn’t happened before, but the sensation was hard to pin down. My stomach felt quivery when he was physically close to me, and although I wasn’t looking at him, I was aware of him. All I could imagine was that the dramas of the day had made me hypersensitive.

  His rumbling voice cut over my ruminations. “Would you like me to speak to her?”

  I stopped what I was doing and looked up, only to be surprised, yet again, by the steadiness of his gaze. Why was I looking at his face all of a sudden?

  “What about?” I’d tried to sound dismissively, but my nerves were on edge and my voice came out querulous.

  “About what she needs.”

  Before I could stop myself I glanced away, embarrassed about our earlier interaction in the car, and my obvious need for comfort while I’d been sobbing. At the time, I’d felt grateful for his perception, and his desire to help. In fact, I’d felt singled out for his attention. But now, having him ask about Lizzie made me feel diminished, as if I was only one in a long line of women who needed something that he was able to provide.

  I wanted to snap Stable the white horse. That’s not what I’m paying you for, but sarcasm was beneath me, so I merely said, “I’m quite capable of handling a small, sad woman and her small, sad child. But thank you for the offer. I’d like to be left alone with her now.”

  In fact, that was the last thing I wanted, but the idea of Lizzie and Nicholas bonding over the kitten got under my skin. The idea that he might hold her baby, or comfort her in any way…

  I wanted to tell myself it would be unprofessional. I wasn’t paying him to be friendly. But there was something else going on. I could feel it burning beneath my ribcage. I wanted him away from her.

  “Very well,” he said quietly. “I’ll take the kitten.”

  My impulse was to look at him again, but I resisted that, despite the fact that it was a challenge to simply continue preparing the tea. When the tray was ready, Nicholas was gone and I let out my held breath.

  He would be back in the Quarters by now, on the other side of the swimming pool, but that brought little relief, because my problems with him were only on hold. After my embarrassing breakdown, I was suddenly selfconscious around him and that didn’t bode well for the future.

  I could replace him. That was always an option. But…I didn’t want to.

  So there was no clear resolution to the issue.

  That wasn’t a situation I normally tolerated, but I had to put it out of my mind to concentrate on the responsibility Jill had handed me. I went back into the study where, amazingly, Lizzie had stopped crying. She was breastfeeding her baby, and I was about to step back and give her privacy when she said, “Please, come in.”

  I swallowed down anxiety and took the tray to the low coffee table between the two powder blue wingback chairs we’d been sitting in.

  “He’s nearly finished,” she said and I nodded, but I didn’t look.

  I’d never been in the same room as a breastfeeding woman before, and despite my feminist attitudes, it unnerved me. I was also very pleased that I’d dismissed Nicholas.

  I knew he’d see nothing sexual in the domestic scene. I had a radar for creepiness, and I’d never sensed anything inappropriate in him. And yet, even if he found it all cozy and familial, I still didn’t want him in the same room as another woman’s exposed breast.

  Because…?

  I poured our tea and had no answer.

  Was it simply that it extended the unprofessional nature of the day? I wanted to get us back to where we’d been yesterday. I needed to get back to that place, and having Nicholas questioning my instructions and offering his own suggestions wasn’t helping.

  Unquestioning obedience had served us well over the past month. There was no reason for that to stop now. In fact, I needed to ensure that it didn’t. It would be sensible to schedule a five-minute briefing with him tomorrow morning, to clarify that today had been an aberration. In fact, I was dreaming up an excuse for my breakdown—perhaps the fictional
anniversary of someone’s death—when Lizzie spoke.

  “Your friend Nicholas is lovely.”

  “Milk?” I hovered the china jug over her teacup.

  “Yes please.”

  “Sugar?”

  “One, thank you.”

  I stirred her sugar and placed the cup closer to her chair, then I sat back with my milky Earl Grey and took my time sipping, hoping beyond hope that Lizzie would stop breastfeeding so we could speak. Because it would be challenging to hold a conversation without looking at her, and I doubted that I could look without feeling awkward.

  Thankfully I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, then she turned in the chair as though to face me more fully.

  I glanced over to see the baby propped against her shoulder as she reached for her teacup.

  Anyone else may have said, Can I hold the baby for you, but I needed to clarify quite soon that I wouldn’t be holding the baby at all. The thought of touching that fragile bundle of soft flannelette and fluffy blond hair made my stomach swirl sickly. The bones were so thin, especially in the chest…

  “Delicious,” she said, and put her teacup down, then she patted the child’s back almost absently, presumably burping him. “I’m sorry for crying.”

  I shrugged. “You’re in the middle of a traumatic situation. It’s an understandable reaction.”

  “It’s very hospitable of you to take me in. I’m a stranger.”

  That was true. But now that she’d stopped sobbing, she was trying her best to cope with a very awkward situation, and her manners were endearingly sweet.

  I shook my head decisively. “You’re Finn’s cousin. That’s almost family.”

  Her lips quivered, and for a moment I thought she’d burst into tears again. But she merely said, “You’re lucky to have friends that you’ve known for so long. Jill told me it’s been twenty years.”

  “The four of us went to school together in Dakaroo.” I put down my teacup and folded my hands on my lap. “It’s in western Queensland. The outback,” I added, in case she wasn’t familiar with the north of Australia. I’d meant to be instructive, but whether it was the day that I’d had, or simply the fact that I so rarely spoke about my origins, I suddenly had memories of my childhood swirling up high in my chest, like bats trying to escape a cave. It was distinctly uncomfortable.

  “Jill told me. A tiny town.” She dimpled. “I was raised in Sydney. I can’t imagine what it’s like growing up anywhere else.” Her eyelashes were dark with tears and clumped together like starfish, giving her a fairy-like appearance.

  “It’s harsh,” I said, and nodded. “Drought, extremes of temperature, lack of facilities.”

  She shook her head. “Like…?”

  “No swimming pool. No cinema. No department stores. No gymnasium. No beauty parlor.” I shrugged.

  “Ouch.” She winced. “What did you have?”

  “Horse-riding.” I took a slow breath, remembering my first kiss with a visiting polo instructor. Why were all these memories so close to the surface? “The main entertainment in an outback town is drinking,” I added, to keep the conversation going, “Which Fritha wholeheartedly embraced, dragging Jill with her, and once even Angela.”

  She frowned. “But not you?”

  “My parents were strict.” And that was all I was saying about that. The last thing I wanted—especially with a baby right in front of me—was to remember the reason my mother had kept me in Dakaroo instead of sending me to an expensive boarding school in Sydney. Her paranoia about losing her only daughter had led to a repressive childhood, but it had also meant I went to the local school where I’d forged friendships with my girls. I could never regret that.

  But I was growing uncomfortable with the conversation so to deflect attention from myself I nodded at the baby. “Is he asleep?”

  “I think so.” She stretched her neck around to look at his face. “I might put him down for a nap.”

  “Certainly.” I stood, feeling instantly relieved. “Your bedroom is at the top of the stairs on the right. Pistachio walls. And please, if you’d like a rest before dinner, don’t feel that you need to come down and make conversation. I have paperwork to attend to.” I waved toward the desk.

  “Oh.” She looked momentarily abashed, as if I’d dismissed her, and I had yet another pang of disquiet about the arrangement. I wasn’t touchy-feely like Fritha or Angela. If Lizzie was hoping for hugs and sympathy, I wasn’t the person to provide it. “All right,” she added, then she nodded as if she thought it was a good idea.

  “If you need anything,” I added, “I’ll be here in the library. And it goes without saying that you should help yourself to anything in the kitchen which is further down the hallway…” I pointed. “…to the right.”

  “Thank you.” She nodded a few more times, then she stood and walked out.

  My shoulders relaxed, for what felt like the first time in hours, but on the flipside of relief, there was guilt. I felt completely inadequate for the job Jill had foisted on me, and Lizzie appeared to need more than food and a roof over her head, but that didn’t change reality. I was available. I must do my best. It might not be good enough for Lizzie, but it would be better than nothing.

  So I was starting to feel stronger, more capable, and with that came a need to erase the weaknesses of the past. I didn’t want the kitten turning up again, because it would only remind me of the horror of the morning and my own lack of control, so the best thing would be to ask Nicholas to return it immediately to his cousin.

  There were valid reasons: I didn’t want it scratching my furniture and getting underfoot. The tiny creature was so small, it would be terrifyingly easy to accidentally stand on and I couldn’t bear that thought.

  So I went to the monitoring screen that had been installed above the light switch and punched in this week’s PIN code. A diagram of the house and grounds appeared on the small screen with two bright spots on it. One was located in the garage where I’d left my emergency pendant in the Bentley, and the other was in the adjoining gymnasium, indicating that Nicholas was there with his phone, which never left his side.

  I was surprised that he hadn’t retrieved the pendant for me to wear. In the early weeks I’d forgotten it often, and in his quiet, efficient way, he’d reminded me that it was important. Danger often comes without warning. Another of his favorite sayings was Habitual preparation is the best defense.

  I was paying Nicholas to be vigilant, so it made sense that I should as well, so I set off for the gymnasium—which I never used—telling myself I would retrieve my pendant on the way back to the library. It was the sensible thing to do.

  However, when I reached the garage and stepped up to the door that opened to the gym I stopped cold, and every thought that had been inside my mind faded. A glass panel at eye height allowed me to see Nicholas inside with both hands on a bar over his head, pulling himself off the ground to rest his chin on the bar, and then lowering himself slowly to the ground.

  Again and again.

  He was wearing gym shorts and a loose singlet, but I wasn’t looking at that. I was staring at the bunched muscles across his shoulders and biceps as he lifted his body weight up and down, seemingly effortlessly.

  His thighs were every bit as muscular as his arms, and there was something about seeing him in this context, wearing so little and yet displaying so much toned muscle, that shocked and…disturbed me.

  When I realized I was holding my breath I turned away, and then I stepped away so he wouldn’t find me staring at him. My face was hot, and I suddenly realized I was in no condition to speak to him, so I returned to the library and sat on my desk, staring at my laptop.

  When Nicholas had requested access to the unused gymnasium for the purposes of retaining his high level of fitness, I’d given him a key to the outside door and told him to come and go as he pleased. It wouldn’t affect my privacy inside the house.

  I had no idea how often he availed himself of the facilities—I’d ne
ver even thought of it—but now…I still wasn’t breathing properly, and my hot face hadn’t cooled. In fact, my hands were trembling. All the poise I’d planned to demonstrate was gone, and in its place was a restlessness that made it hard to sit still.

  But I wasn’t going out there. I was determined to hide in the library until Lizzie came back down, because seeing Nicholas like that had unnerved me. It wasn’t right, and I wasn’t sure why.

  So I spent the next hour researching venues for a charity auction I was hoping to run in aid of the local woman’s shelter. In fact, that was how I’d contacted Shadow Secure in the first place to find a bodyguard. They were also sponsors of the shelter, and their staff trained the battered wives in self-defense.

  That set my mind on another drifting course, so while I was supposed to be researching seating numbers and catering, instead I wondered whether Nicholas wore shorts when he trained others, because you surely wouldn’t do self-defense in jeans.

  Although, why I should care about his wardrobe was beyond me. Was I suddenly so stupidly girlish that a few muscles in the right place had distracted me so completely? Because I was distracted, and that began to annoy me.

  So I stopped researching and emailed Jill to update her, cancelled my appointments for the rest of the week, and finally phoned the hospital to see how Marcus was progressing. He was my ex-husband, but I still felt a duty of care toward him, particularly when our divorce had sent him into such an emotional tailspin.

  The last thing I’d expected him to do was to attempt suicide, and I still felt guilty that I’d been at his side in hospital with my phone on silent when Fritha had been assaulted and in need of my help, although thankfully Angela’s cousin Kamal had stepped in.

  I wanted all my girls safe, and that certainly had priority over Marcus, who had now been shifted into a psychiatric ward, however I was at liberty currently so I checked on him every day. When I was put through to the nurses’ station, however, I was completely unprepared for the news that he’d been moved to another facility.