CHAPTER NINE
James reclined in his office chair, threading his fingers through his hair as he stared at the computer screen. He’d just sent the last one of many emails to Anastastia. There was yet another change she wanted to the building, something that affected a long list of other things that would now have to change. At this rate, the project would never get up and running. It was as though she wanted this project to take three times longer than it should. So much for ‘taking time off’ at the country house. He would have been better off in Melbourne. Then again, if he were there, Anastasia would be at his doorstep until the early hours. She never took the hint to leave.
The hotel heiress was more work than she should be.
Her new national hotel chain, when finished – if finished - would be massive, extending from coast to coast, but they were still stuck at the planning stage. All prospective new buildings would be copied from this prototype, so it was important to get the first one right. Every contingency catered for.
Now, with this change, he’d have to go over every cost to make sure everything was correctly adjusted from the hundreds of other changes she’d requested. It was easy to have a cost blow-out, and he wanted to be sure everything was properly accounted for. He had hundreds of staff members who depended on him, and he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance.
A delightful sound drifted into his office, one he hadn’t heard enough of. Laughter. Madeline and Elizabeth. The past hour Elizabeth had spent in Madeline’s room had been pure torture.
He’d stopped halfway through a complex calculation when he’d heard Elizabeth playing the guitar. Then she’d started singing. Then Madeline had joined her. He’d just about fallen off his seat at the sound of his little daughter singing.
The one thing she’d refused to do. Never, even when he’d taken her to music therapy and dozens of toddler and pre-school groups had anyone been able to coax her to sing. He didn’t know if it was because Hanna was a musician and somehow, wrapped up in her child’s mind, she saw music and the lack of a mother as being the same, but she’d adamantly refused.
It had taken a few strokes of some chords, and her gorgeous little voice had rang throughout the house, right alongside the husky, mature tones of Elizabeth.
God, did her voice do something primal to him.
Her voice melted every muscle in his body and stole all thoughts from his mind. He’d found himself, eyes closed, ear tilted towards the door, sitting as still as possible so he wouldn’t miss anything. He’d stayed that way for an hour, his work completely forgotten. Now it was dinner time, and he hadn’t gone anywhere near through what he needed to.
He heard Elizabeth chuckling. Her voice slid right through him, a whisper-soft caress that ignited parts that had lain dormant for so long. Stirring feelings he’d never thought to feel again.
As tough as Elizabeth thought she was, scratch the surface, and there was a woman who was soft on the inside. He’d seen that in the way she looked at Madeline. With such longing it tugged his heart. But longing for what? A child of her own?
He didn’t know much about foster homes, but he was sure she’d never had the loving arms of her own parents to hold her. She had some serious doubts about her ability to look after a child, clearly because of that trauma, but she didn’t realise her entire demeanour changed when she was around Madeline. Like a light was switched on. And now Madeline laughed and chatted and sung like the vivacious four-year-old she was. She didn’t realise how momentous this change was.
He refused to feel guilty at how grateful he was for the landslide. He’d be happy to be stuck here for the next year if it meant Madeline would laugh and sing like she was doing now.
He was also immensely grateful, even despite the circumstances, that they had crossed paths with Elizabeth. It was so secluded on here, they rarely saw anyone other than locals. It was one of the reasons they’d chosen it. Hanna could come here in peace. No one came here who didn’t belong.
Could that be the same for Elizabeth? That she’d come here because she also belonged?
Feeling grateful she was here was one thing. The very adult, less than virtuous feelings he harboured were harder to ignore. The temptation to kiss her – and more - was almost overwhelming. Had been since he’d first laid eyes on her. He had to remind himself that she was here for Madeline. Madeline was his priority. Not his lack of love life. Or his physical needs. He wiped his hands over his face. For the sake of his daughter, he would do anything, including not giving in to temptation.
He heard them go downstairs and head to the kitchen. Before the door closed, Elizabeth chuckled at something Madeline said. Even her laughter was musical. He had no idea how he came to be standing in the open kitchen doorway, but the scene inside made his breath catch.
Elizabeth held Madeline’s hand as Elizabeth showed her how to spread butter on bread. Elizabeth stood behind Madeline, her long auburn hair flowing over her shoulder, engrossed in the task. There was the hint of a smile on her mouth that made his lips turn upwards in an automatic response.
She murmured softly spoken words of encouragement into Madeline’s ear. Madeline was listening carefully, trying with intense concentration on her face to spread the butter without mangling the bread, which wasn’t so successful. Nevertheless, Elizabeth placed her hands on Madeline’s shoulders, exclaiming over her effort. Elizabeth was rewarded with an upturned face and ecstatic smile from his daughter.
The familiar pang of sadness, followed by the simmering anger, washed through him. Madeline should be sharing moments like this with Hanna. Madeline should have her mother. They should both still have Hanna. Sometimes he couldn’t forgive life.
“Daddy!”
Madeline rushed around the table and into his arms. He picked her up, to settle on his hips in a tight hug. He would never tire of having his daughter in his arms.
James looked at Elizabeth over the top of Madeline’s head. “Helping with a snack, I see?”
Elizabeth flushed, a rose-pink tone colouring her cheeks. Her plump lips were a few tones darker than her cheeks. Dusky pink. And entirely kissable. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, watching him with that unsure shadow in her eyes. He wanted very much to wipe away that look. To see confidence shining in her eyes when she looked at him. Not just confidence. He wanted to see desire when she looked at him. Desire for him radiating in those velvet brown depths.
Stop that, Rhyder. She’s here for Madeline.
Still, his insides tightened with a primal need. There was no denying it. He wanted her. Badly. He grit his teeth. He mentally re-assessed his previous thoughts. This was going to be more than mere torture.
“Yes. Liz’beth said I can learn to cook,” Madeline said.
“I see you’ve started.”
Madeline slipped from him and brought the plate of crushed bread to him. In some places, the bread had been split right through to reveal the plate. In other places, there were globs of thick butter.
“Have a slice, Daddy. It’s delicious.”
He saw Elizabeth watching him. A brow rose. He took a slice and ate it as though it were the most delicious thing he’d ever had. The look of delight on Madeline’s face was payment enough.
“That’s the best buttered bread I’ve ever eaten.”
The look of pleasure his comment brought to Elizabeth’s face was enough to make him want to eat the whole damn plate of bread.
“Mr. Rhyder! What a surprise to see you here. Would you like me to bring to your study?” Mrs. D’llessio turned from the succulent smelling dish she was stirring on the stovetop.
Did he want to go back to his office and sort through all those facts and figures when there was such life, such temptation in his kitchen? He thought of all the dinners he normally ate, normally cold and forgotten, in front of his computer. It was the only way he’d been able to keep up with the project.
Tonight, though, tonight he had no impulse to be anywhere else. The choice was very easy. Just for tonight. Then tomorrow he could go back to his cold dinner and equally cold facts and figures.
“I’ll join you here.”
“Yay!” Madeline jumped up and down on the spot.
Elizabeth frowned, confusion darkening her eyes. “You don’t often eat dinner with Madeline?” Her voice cracked, and with it went a piece of his heart.
“Daddy never comes in here,” Madeline said.
“Ever?” Elizabeth’s forehead creased in tight lines.
“Never ever. ‘Cept for the other night when you were here.”
“Ooooo. Mr. Rhyder is always busy doing this or that. He has big business, you know?” Mrs. D’llessio’s hands were held wide as though she measured a fish.
“Daddy has lots and lots of meetings. And sometimes he’s stuck talking on the phone all night long. But most times he’s doing business with ‘portant people.” Madeline’s voice told of the numerous nights she didn’t share a meal with her father.
Hearing those words from the mouth of his innocent daughter highlighted just how remiss he'd been. How selfish. No wonder she’d become withdrawn. She’d lost her mother, and her father was always too busy for her.
“Oh,” Elizabeth said on a quiet sigh.
“Well, I’m here now.” His voice came out as the growl he never intended. More guilt washed through him.
“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t want to offend you. Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Elizabeth fidgeted, her hands fluttering restlessly. Her expression lost warmth and was replaced with uncertainty.
He frowned. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to sound so…”
“It wasn’t any of my business.” Elizabeth’s gaze dropped to the floor. She tugged her sleeve down over the bruises on her wrist.
“Elizabeth, about those…”
Her stricken gaze stopped him from speaking. The moment was broken by dishes clattering on the table. A red-faced Mrs. D’llessio hauled the pot from the stove and set it on a heat mat on the table.
“Dinner is ready to be served.”
“It smells delicious, Mrs. D’llessio. Thank you for cooking a meal. You didn’t make something like this just for me though, did you?” Elizabeth tucked a strand of hair around her ear. An uneasy action.
She didn’t need to be this way. Hell, she deserved to have a meal like this, and more, every day simply given to her because she was just—her.
“It is nothing, Cara. I make for everyone.” Confusion crossed Maria’s face as well.
“Elizabeth, I want you to feel at home here. I want you to use what’s in the house. The facilities. The rooms. Your room is your personal space. If you’re hungry, come into the kitchen and eat. That includes all meals. In fact, it's a requirement of your employment. You're entitled to all of it. Do I make myself clear?”
“Come. Come. Eat. Eat.” Mrs. D’llessio waved them to the table.
Elizabeth glanced at him with those huge, luminous eyes, and his insides screamed with yearning. He inwardly groaned. He should have had dinner in his office. He wouldn’t second-guess himself there.
He guided the conversation to focus on Madeline. The tension eased from Elizabeth’s shoulders. Madeline’s chatter was music to his ears. The world drained away, confined to the cosy kitchen. Even Maria was more lighthearted than he’d seen her in a long time, regaling them all with stories of how she learned to cook with her mama. With a few well-chosen questions from Elizabeth, they were kept entertained with stories he hadn’t ever heard, even though Maria had worked for him for many years.
“Daddy, can you take me to the park tomorrow?” Madeline asked.
“That’s what I’m here for, honey,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll play with you while your Daddy is working. Depending on the weather, that is.” The term of endearment she used tugged at his heart.
Madeline clapped her hands and then tucked into the dessert Mrs. D’llessio had prepared. He really could stay here all night, but he’d already lost an hour listening to his daughter and her new nanny singing, and Anastasia wasn’t known for her patience. It was as though the past hour had taken no longer than a few seconds.
“I have to get back to work.”
“More work?” Elizabeth looked up at him with fathomless brown eyes. Eyes that had the capacity to ask anything of him and he’d do it.
He diverted his gaze to his half-drunk glass of wine. “Unfortunately. But…I have enjoyed tonight. Would you help Madeline with her bath and bedtime?”
“Of course.” Elizabeth sipped her wine, running her tongue along her bottom lip. Her lips looked so soft. So kissable. The taste of red wine on her lips would be exquisite.
He stepped towards her, a hand reached for her, an unconscious movement. She stilled, confusion lacing her eyes as her gaze dropped to his hand and back to his face.
He blinked, catching Mrs. D’llessio’s half-raised brow as she regarded him, curiosity on her face.
What the hell was he doing? You were going to kiss her. As though it was the most natural thing in the world, that’s what you were doing.
His mind was clouded with good wine, good food and a woman who was invading every good sense he had to remember why she was here.
He forced himself to take a step back. “Thank you, Mrs. D’llessio. A delicious dinner as usual. I’ll come in to kiss you goodnight.” His eyes inadvertently slid to Elizabeth as he said the words. Her eyes widened a fraction. “Madeline. I’ll kiss you goodnight, Madeline!”
He just about bolted from the kitchen, seeking the safety of his office, and plonked in his desk chair. Hell! He’d almost kissed her. In front of Maria and Madeline! One look at those lips... the way she ran the tip of her tongue… lips blushed with red wine…
He could almost imagine the way those lips would mould to his own, then part, opening her heated mouth to the dance of his tongue. She would taste as sweet as she looked. Passion and apples, spicy and sweet at the same time. Her tongue would sweep over his, and he would deepen the kiss. Fold her in his arms and lock her body against him…
James groaned, running his hands over his face. What had he been thinking? The point was — he hadn’t been thinking at all. He’d reacted, and it hadn’t taken much for him to lose control.
What the hell was he going to do? He couldn’t just forget himself and kiss her just because he was tempted. And he was tempted. He’d just have to lock himself in this office and hide away. It wasn’t as though he didn’t have an excuse. Anastasia Highland.
She’d already taken a lot of his time. Too much time. The lady wasn’t known for her patience. In fact, Anastasia was the reason he’d been so hectic and hadn’t spent the time he’d wanted with his daughter. Recent events included.
James rubbed his eyes. The screen blinked yet another email into his inbox from Anastasia. He pushed aside any other thoughts as he dove into the details that had to be attended to before any further thoughts of dewy lips and delusional kisses could float into his head.