The Maid, The Millionaire And The Baby. Michelle Douglas
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She could move away at any time… Her tongue snaked out to moisten her lips and something hot and sweet licked along his veins.
He let her go in an instant.
She eased away, colour high on her cheekbones. ‘Do you mind if I check the bags?’ She gestured to the muddle of bags that apparently came with a baby.
‘By all means. Are you looking for anything in particular?’ If she took the baby back he’d look for her.
‘George’s schedule.’ He must’ve looked clueless because she added, ‘Feed times, nap times…those sorts of things.’
He tried to do what she was doing—focussing on the situation with the baby rather than that moment of…
He didn’t know what to call it. A moment of awareness that had taken them both off guard. He pulled in a breath and counted to ten.
Emotions were running high, that was all. He was holding his nephew, for heaven’s sake. A nephew he’d thought he’d never get to meet, let alone hold. It was making him hyper-aware of everything. What he didn’t need to notice at the moment, however, was the silkiness of his housemaid’s skin or the shininess of her hair. He gritted his teeth. Or the beguiling shape of her mouth.
He forced his gaze to the baby who, with half-closed eyes, continued to suck on his dummy with a kind of focussed fierceness. His chest clenched. What kind of unfairness or…or whim had turned this little guy’s life upside down? The innate fragility and helplessness of the baby, the sense of responsibility that suddenly weighed down on him, had his former panic stirring. How could he do this? How—?
‘I didn’t go to housekeeping school either,’ Imogen said out of the blue. ‘Just so you know. In case you hadn’t worked that out for yourself yet.’
She sat cross-legged on the rug, going methodically through each of the bags. And she was telling him this because…?
‘I wouldn’t want you accusing me at some distant point in the future of being here under false pretences.’
He recalled how she’d puffed up earlier when she’d thought he’d been slighting her intelligence. Did she feel lesser because she’d not been to the right school or wasn’t properly qualified or something? Focussing on her issues was certainly better than focussing on the baby he held. ‘It doesn’t necessarily follow that you’re not a hard worker, though, right?’
‘Exactly!’ Her smile was so bright it could blind a man. He blinked but he couldn’t look away. And then she grimaced. ‘I don’t have the subservient thing down pat yet, though.’
His lips twitched. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’
‘Ooh.’ Her grin widened and she pointed a finger at him. ‘You just made a joke.’
He ignored that. Making jokes at the moment was no doubt highly inappropriate. For heaven’s sake, he was holding a baby. ‘Ms Hartley, let me put your mind at rest. I trust Katherine’s judgement.’
‘Even though I’m family?’
She’s a bit flighty and irresponsible.
He didn’t see any evidence of that. ‘Even then,’ he said. He spoke without hesitation. He’d trust Kate with his life. He knew she was keeping secrets from her family, but they were harmless enough. He couldn’t blame her for protecting her privacy when he’d all but exiled himself to a remote island.
She’s a bit flighty and irresponsible. He suspected Kate had lied about that to put an invisible wedge between him and her niece. He didn’t blame her for wanting to protect Imogen from a man like him. He didn’t consider himself a good prospect either.
Imogen halted from her rifling of bags. ‘I want to apologise for my rudeness earlier.’
She’d been rude?
‘I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that for calling me stupid.’
‘I did not call you stupid.’
‘You know what I mean.’
She’d only been responding to his rudeness. ‘I shouldn’t have been so short with you.’
One shoulder lifted. ‘I’m a bit sensitive on the subject, and I shouldn’t have flared up like that.’
He stared at her for a moment. ‘Why are you sensitive?’
She ducked her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
He had a feeling it mattered a great deal.
He wasn’t sure what she saw in his face when she glanced back up, but whatever it was had her heaving out a sigh. ‘I don’t think I’m stupid, Mr Coleman. I know I’m not. I’m just a bit sensitive about it at the moment because last week, before I came here, I ran into an old boyfriend—my high-school sweetheart.’
From the look on her face he’d been anything but a sweetheart.
‘When he found out I had no plans to go to university—like him—he told me I was…’
‘Stupid?’
‘I believe the words he used were uneducated yokel.’ She shrugged. ‘Naturally I kicked his sorry butt to the kerb.’
‘Smart move.’
‘But, you know, that was seven years ago, and people grow up, so when I saw him last week I said hello.’ Her lips thinned. ‘That wasn’t quite so smart.’
A hard ball settled in the pit of his stomach. ‘He called you stupid again?’
‘Implied it.’
What a jerk! ‘Why?’
She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
He didn’t believe that for a moment.
‘I’m not stupid and what I’m doing with my life isn’t stupid or risky. It’s just…his voice has wormed its way inside my head, and I haven’t been able to shake it. I’m sorry you were the one who had his head snapped off, though.’
‘I have broad shoulders.’ He shrugged. ‘And if you want the truth, I came back early from my run to apologise for being so grumpy.’
She folded her arms and stared at him. ‘You know what? You’re not the slightest bit difficult or temperamental.’
What on earth had made her think he was?
Katherine. The answer came to him swiftly. Katherine didn’t want him messing with her niece, and he had no intention of giving the older woman cause for concern. He might not be difficult and temperamental, and Imogen might not be flighty and irresponsible. But their lives were poles apart. And he had every intention of keeping them that way.
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