Mal unlocked the front door and dropped his holdall in the entrance hall. The smell of cooking pervaded his nostrils. His house sitter must have known that he was coming. He headed up the stairs, following his nose toward the delicious aroma that was emanating from the kitchen. As he reached the top, he heard laughter and the clink of glasses.

Who the hell was in his house?

His eyes were drawn to the girl with long black hair who sat at the head of the table. She was laughing at something the guy opposite her was saying. There was another couple at the table, hands resting on each other’s as they sipped wine from his glasses. Probably his wine, although a sneaky look at the label told him that the bottle was way cheaper than the ones he had in the cellar. He went back to the girl. Was she the woman that Therese hired? In his mind, he pictured her to be about thirty years older, much less pretty, and with a less attractive body. If it wasn’t her, who was it?

Mal cleared his throat. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?” His voice boomed through the open space.

The one he assumed to be Piper jumped up and nearly dropped her wine glass. “Omigosh, Mal…Mr Colten…” she stuttered. “I-I…didn’t realize you were coming home.”

“Clearly.” He folded his arms across his chest and fixed her with a glare. Her blue eyes fluttered back at him and he almost weakened. “Tell me, what are these people doing in my house?”

“Having dinner, I thought that would be obvious,” the guy who had been sitting opposite Piper chipped in and Mal turned his attention to him. “My sister invited us round.”

Mal looked back at Piper. “Did she now? And did she also tell you that invitations need to be run past me first?” Piper averted her gaze and Mal instantly realized that she hadn’t read through all the paperwork that Therese would no doubt have given her. It wasn’t that he was trying to be some kind of control freak; he wanted to be careful about who came into his home and when. He didn’t like the fact that she apparently hadn’t taken the job seriously. Or at least seriously enough to find out exactly what she should and shouldn’t be doing.

“What are you? Some kind of dictator?” Piper’s brother asked. He and the other couple still sat at the table.

“No. I’m her boss and the person who is currently paying her wages.” Mal approached Piper. “Or at least I am at the moment. That can change.” He let the insinuation sink in and watched as Piper went over to her brother and spoke in hushed tones. The guy shook his head and consulted the other two. There was some shoulder shrugging and a couple of whispers, but after a couple of minutes the three of them stood up.

Piper’s brother gave her a hug and scowled at Mal over her shoulder. “Piper, you call me if you need anything.”

“Josh, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you later.” Piper pushed him away and went to the top of the stairs with them. “Let me know you get home okay.”

Once the front door had slammed shut, Piper turned to face Mal. “That was just plain rude! How could you talk to me like that? You could have asked them to leave first and then spoken to me in private.”

Mal admired her feistiness. It had been a long time since someone had talked to him like that. Most of the women he encountered were either starstruck or trying too hard. It was refreshing to have someone stand up to him. Even if she was supposed to be working for him. He tried not to smile.

“Like I said to your brother, I’m paying your wages, and I’m not sure the job description covered giving dinner parties for your friends.”

“Your job description was about twenty pages long! All I’m meant to be doing is looking after your house and making sure your parcels are taken in.”

Mal laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Yeah, that’s all it is.” He rearranged his face into a more accepting smile. He was enjoying this exchange and wondered if he could get it to continue.

“Therese made it clear that you were going to be out on tour for the next couple of months.”

“Therese should have contacted you to tell you otherwise.”

They were just a couple of feet apart and Mal caught a hint of her perfume, a light yet spicy fragrance. It totally suited her.

“You should really clean up the kitchen.” He picked his words deliberately, wanting to antagonize her and keep the banter going.

Piper screwed up her face. “Yes, I probably should. But as you’re likely to fire me anyway, I’m not going to do it.” She turned on her heel and stalked toward the stairs to her room.

Mal watched her go, a little surprised she had walked away so easily. He hadn’t pegged her as a quitter. It was too soon to go after her, so instead he went over to the stove where something had been bubbling away on a very low heat. He lifted the lid and inhaled pasta, ham, mushrooms, and creamy sauce. He found a bowl and helped himself to a large portion before turning off the heat. He took it to the table, found a fresh glass, and poured himself some wine. As he took a bite, his eyes fell on the glorious view over the bay from where he sat—the exact view he had been missing. It never failed to inspire him, calm him, make him feel better about everything. An air of serenity enveloped him as he ate. He sipped the red wine and found it to be acceptable. It only took him a few minutes to finish the food, and he found himself going back to the pot for more. As he chewed on the deliciously flavored dish, his mind wandered to Piper. He had no intention of firing her. Not least because she made a mean bowl of pasta.