Riches to Rags Bride / The Heiress's Baby. Myrna Mackenzie
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started to tell him she needed honesty, then had probably decided that it was the wrong thing to say to her boss. The obvious response was to simply tell her that he would be honest with her. But he wasn’t going to say that. He had learned long ago to do what was necessary, and what was necessary wasn’t always honest or pretty. He had been raised in a harsh world of broken promises, so the only promises he made were of the most limited variety.
“You’ll have honest work and I’ll pay you well for it,” he said. It was, after all, all that he had to offer anyone.
“Thank you, Mr. McDowell.”
The weariness in her soft voice made him feel like a jerk. The relationship already felt strained, and that was a problem. For the next few weeks, they would be working together and they would need to work quickly. He needed her cooperation. He needed her not to call him Mr. McDowell, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. Maybe he didn’t want to know why.
“Just Lucas.”
“Lucas, then. I may not have been raised to be self-sufficient, but I intend to learn how to be totally independent. I have to be independent, to know that I can rely on myself to do it all. I want that more than anything. So, there’s no cheating allowed. No shortcuts such as looking for someone to marry, support or save me. I need to become totally self-sufficient, to do this and do it well, so don’t worry about the blouse.”
She smiled, a bit uncertainly, and he couldn’t help but be affected by those tell-all-her-secrets eyes and her naïveté. She had no clue what she was doing, but she was going to do it. Her determination when the odds were stacked against her made him want to learn more about her, and that wasn’t allowed. He didn’t get involved with anyone and especially not with someone like Genevieve. Because despite, or maybe because of, his association with Angie’s House and the situation that had driven him to take on this project, vulnerable women were poison to his soul, a reminder of times he wanted to forget. That wasn’t going to change.
Genevieve quickly scrambled to exit the car. She didn’t want Lucas thinking she expected him to open her door or give her any special favors.
Still, when he threw open the door of the house, she had to fight not to exclaim. The entryway was huge, and while there was very little furniture, what was there was absolutely caked in dust and dirt. Cobwebs hung everywhere, and the few cobwebs she had ever encountered in her life prior to this had sent chills running up her spine. In addition, there was plaster scattered over the filthy floor where part of the chandelier had come loose and pulled part of the ceiling with it. The windows were grimy.
“How long has this been empty?” she couldn’t help asking. “And why?”
“Years. It was originally a smaller house, enlarged and then enlarged again by a man who won the lottery, then lost all his money at a dizzying speed. It’s too big and costly for the rest of the neighborhood, not in a good enough location for anyone who could afford it. So, it sat here, unwanted and out of place for years, ever since he walked away from it. No one knew what to do with it.”
Something cold and steel-like in the way he had said “unwanted and out of place” made Genevieve turn to look at him, but his expression gave nothing away.
“Why … I don’t understand. Why would you choose it, then?”
The smallest of smiles lifted his lips. Far from making him look less dangerous, it made him seem more handsome. The flutter it brought to her stomach practically screamed “step away from the gorgeous man, Gen. This one will hurt you.”
“I’m sorry. Did I say something funny? Or wrong?” she asked.
Lucas stared directly into her eyes, pinning her so that she felt powerless to look away. The flutter intensified. She almost backed up a step to try to curb her too-feminine reaction to him. “I suppose I’m not used to hiring members of the privileged class,” he said. “Most employees steer away from questioning my motives.”
Uh-oh. Her lack of experience was showing. “I shouldn’t have asked,” she observed.
“No. Ask what you want to know. I’ll answer if I feel it’s pertinent to the project. In this case, you’re dead-on. We needed a big building, but not one that would attract a lot of attention. Tucked away in this low-income but solid and safe residential area, the women of Angie’s House won’t stand out. They can move around in safety, become members of the community and, for once in their lives, have a place where they can—hopefully—heal and find some joy and satisfaction, unfettered by fear. The building suits our needs perfectly. Come on. I’ll show you around.”
She wanted to say no. There was something so empty and sad about the house. The fact that someone had built it during a happy time in their life and then lost all that happiness hit far too close to home. But my misfortune was partly my own fault, she reminded herself. The signs about Barry had been there, but she had ignored them. There had been times during their engagement when Barry had seemed shallow or uncaring of others and she had ignored it because her parents had liked him, her friends had admired him, and some of that admiration seemed to rub off on her.
Plus, while Barry had turned out to be a first-class jerk who had stolen much of her fortune while she’d been mourning the loss of her parents, the truth was that she’d had years before that to educate herself about her finances and she hadn’t bothered to make the slightest effort. Even if she’d thought about questioning what Barry was doing, she wouldn’t have known what questions to ask. If she’d known more, she might have saved herself, but now it was too late. The damage was done. There was no going back.
That was a good thing in only one way. She’d been forced to her knees and she wouldn’t make the mistake of relying on anyone that way ever again.
“Lead on,” she said, mustering some bravado. “I’m ready.” For anything. But that last thought was a total lie. If Lucas smiled again and the hard line of his mouth softened again … well, now Genevieve finally understood what Teresa had meant when she fretted that Lucas might be too dangerous for her friend. She’d just been admonishing herself for being too trusting with one man and here she was staring at Lucas’s mouth when he was a man who was obviously, glaringly someone she had no business thinking about at all beyond the job.
So stick to business, she told herself. Try to figure out what’s required and do a good job. Otherwise, Lucas would have no reason to keep her. She would be cast aside by one more man.
She couldn’t let that happen. From now on, she was going to throw herself into this project with every ounce of her being. Down that road lay freedom, redemption, independence. “I can’t wait to get started,” she said.
Lucas raised one dark brow.
“I mean it,” Genevieve said. She needed to earn her first money, pay her overdue bills, prove herself and reclaim her self-respect.
Closing her eyes to her lack of experience, she tried not to panic at the thought of the massive task ahead. “Where should I begin?” She glanced toward the brooms and rags and cleaning supplies in one corner.
“Today we’ll just get you acclimated. I want you to get a feel for the building and the possibilities, what we need to accomplish. In time, there will be eight women living here, so you’ll want to get a sense of the space and help me decide what we’re going to do with it decorating and usage-wise. I deal in sporting goods and making money and I’ve spearheaded the construction of a number of stores, but I’m sure you’ll have more of an idea about what women might want or need in a dream home. You’re also the expert in decorating and events planning.”
“Okay. So … what type of events will those be?” Her heart was pounding so hard she was amazed Lucas couldn’t hear it. She had always been the behind-the-scenes person, not the up-front person.
“This house is in a residential neighborhood. We’ll want to make sure the locals are comfortable with us. For that, we’ll need to court them, to reassure them that the women here will be their neighbors, women committed to making life and this