“You don’t have to worry about that in the future, or at least not for as long as I’m here. We’ll help each other, Henry. I don’t know a fifth of what you know.” She wanted him for a friend, and she meant to be one.
Telford had been away for several days on a business trip, and Alexis didn’t know he’d come home until Tara ran down the hall calling his name. “Mr. Telford. Mr. Telford. Mummy, can Mr. Telford come look at what I drew?”
Telford wasn’t pleased that she brought a child to his home, and she didn’t want Tara’s fondness for him to become tiresome.
“Darling, Mr. Telford just came home, and he’s probably very tired. You must wait till he’s had time to…to rest.”
“I have to put on some work clothes, Tara. Think you can wait a little while?”
Alexis couldn’t believe the smile that lit up Tara’s face. Her daughter was as impatient as a four-year-old could be, but she graciously accepted whatever Telford offered her.
“You must have magic powers, Telford. I can hardly believe that’s my daughter.”
“Why’s that?”
“Her patience, this new trait she adopted after she came here, boggles my mind.”
His wink nearly knocked her off balance. “Some females know a man when they see one.”
And I don’t? This woman was far ahead of Tara. “I’m not going there, Telford. Not for a second.”
With his hands in the back pockets of his trousers and his feet planted wide apart, his lips slowly exposed his perfect white teeth in a grin. Devastating. But if he knew it, unlike Drake, he didn’t show it. Thank goodness she was able to resist grabbing her chest to slow down her heartbeat. If she wasn’t careful or very lucky, she’d be the one to break the contract. A little of this man could set a dozen women on fire.
“Suit yourself,” he said, winking again. “I’ve got to check the warehouse. If you’re not busy, you and Tara can come along, see one of our operations and meet some of the men working on that building.”
“They work on Saturday?”
“It’s their choice, and they’re well paid for it. Better put on some jeans.”
“How about chinos? I don’t own any jeans.”
“Whatever. Be back here in fifteen minutes.”
“I get the impression you’re involved in building. What do you do?”
“I’m a builder. We put up buildings. All kinds. Russ, Drake and I work together as Harrington, Incorporated.”
“Impressive. I’d like to see some of your buildings sometime.” Realizing that a housekeeper wouldn’t have said that, she lowered her gaze, flustered.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
This man was sensitive, and she’d better not call attention to herself. If he became curious about her, she might soon be looking for work. Furthermore, causing him to focus on her could precipitate an eruption she didn’t want. She knew enough psychology to appreciate that an attraction as strong as his for her was not one-sided. Besides, that wasn’t ice she saw in his eyes as he faced her on the steps the day she arrived, nor was it disinterest she was looking at right then.
“Uh…nothing. I forgot I have work to do.”
His facial expression dissolved into the picture of puzzlement. “It’s after four, so you’re off for the weekend. At least I thought that was our agreement. Meet you down here in a few minutes.”
“All right. But, Telford, you don’t have to take Tara for a walk. She’s…only a little girl, and she has to understand that you’re not here to cater to her.”
“I told her we’d go for a walk, and nobody forced me to say that. My word is my bond, and I keep my promises. If I tell you I’ll do something, count on it. And I expect the same from anyone else. See you in a minute.” He whirled around and dashed up the stairs.
Telford swore at himself as he headed for his room. He had to watch his behavior with Alexis Stevenson. She possessed grace, charm and intelligence—traits that he admired—not to mention sizzling femininity. He’d observed her at breakfast a few mornings earlier, when she thought his mind was on biscuits, sausage and grits. Her finesse went far beyond what he’d expect of a housekeeper. Tactful, too. He threw off his outer clothing, kicked off his shoes, put on jeans, a long-sleeved collared T-shirt, alligator boots and a denim jacket and raced down the stairs. To his surprise, Alexis and Tara waited for him at the bottom of the steps.
“I thought I moved fast. You two must have raced back here.”
“I ran. Mummy walked. Where’re we going?”
She gazed up at him with soft brown eyes, smiling eyes, and reached for his hand. He supposed she touched him the way she did because she expected him to like her or…maybe because he’d once dreamed he’d have a family of his own—sons like him and soft, feminine daughters. He shook himself out of the memory, the residual of his youthful desires.
“I’m going to show you around the place,” he told them. “We’re building a warehouse down the road there because it will give us greater security. Want to see it?”
Her little fingers relaxed, warm and trusting in his big hand.
“I do, and I wanna see the puppies, too.”
He glanced at Alexis, hoping that she knew something about them. “Puppies? I didn’t know we had any.”
She lifted her left shoulder in a slight shrug. “Neither did I.”
Wondering if he was dealing with the fruits of a child’s imagination, he hunkered beside Tara and asked her, “Did Henry say we have puppies?”
She nodded. “Uh-huh. And they’re brown.”
He stood, and she grasped his hand again. “In that case, I’ll see if I can find them. When I was little like you, Tara, I played under this tree while my dad worked nearby.” Now why had he shared that with them? He pointed to a sycamore tree that towered over the stable. “That one.” When he looked in that direction, he glimpsed Alexis’s upturned face and her soft kissable lips, and his heart leapfrogged in his chest.
At the warehouse, he introduced Alexis and Tara to the workers. “Mrs. Stevenson, this is Biff Jackson, my project foreman. Biff, Mrs. Stevenson is our new homemaker.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted introducing Alexis to Biff, who assumed the stance of a man looking at a woman he desired but for whom he had low regard.
“And this is Tara, Mrs. Stevenson’s daughter. If she strays out here, send her back immediately with a man you trust.”
“Sure thing,” Biff said, his gaze fixed on Alexis. “Howdy, Ms. Stevenson.” He extended his hand. “Things are looking up around here.”
Telford didn’t imagine that she hesitated before shaking Biff’s hand, and it was clear to him that the man continued to hold her grip when she’d indicated she wanted him to release her. Her gaze swept to him, furor flashing in her eyes.
“Knock it off, Biff. If you want to play, find someone who’s willing.”
Biff’s shrug was lazy and insolent. “They’re all willing, boss. Some just need a little help.” He saluted in mocking fashion. “Glad to meet you. Be seeing you around.” She didn’t respond.
Telford narrowed his eyes. “Just make certain you know when that help is wanted.”
He knew Biff regarded himself highly; he’d heard enough of the man’s braggadocios of his way with women. Alexis had just dusted him off, and with Biff’s outsized ego, he was probably already thinking of a way to make her pay. Wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on Biff.
“Seen any puppies around here, Biff?”
“Puppies? Naaah. Say, wait. I think Henry has some at his place. Some golden retrievers.”
He thanked his foreman and guided Alexis and Tara around the structure, pointing out its features and explaining things to Tara, an intelligent child who possessed a healthy curiosity. The warehouse was a relatively simple structure, and he had built suspension bridges, municipal buildings, schools and mansions, yet his pride in showing Alexis and Tara that uncomplicated job—what he did and who he was—eclipsed his regard for his previous accomplishments. As they headed for Henry’s cottage, the significance of his feelings worried him.
Henry stopped mowing the grass as they approached. “I guess you come for your little puppy.”
Tara looked at her mother, who pinned soft, warm brown eyes on him.
“All right, all right, but we’ll have to establish some house rules, and it has to be a male.”
Tara squealed and hugged his leg, and Henry disappeared into the house. Telford liked animals, but he didn’t keep pets. As a child, he feared losing things he loved, so he hadn’t let himself love. His mother, Etta Harrington, used to disappear whenever it suited her, or it seemed that way to a small boy, and when he was in the third grade, his best friend died of the flu. There’d been times when he’d tried not to love his brothers for fear of losing them.
Henry returned with a puppy in a towel-lined basket, his face bright with smiles as he handed it to Tara, and it dawned on him that the little girl gave the old man unqualified love and affection, a new life.
Tara looked up at them as she cradled her treasure, her face the image of pure joy. “Thanks, Mr. Henry. I’m going to name him Biscuit, ’cause Mr. Telford loves biscuits. I like ’em, too.”
What a sensitive child. If she’d learned that from her mother… He shoved the thought aside. He rarely walked around the Harrington property or took the time to enjoy its beauty, and he realized that he found pleasure in it now because he shared it with Alexis and Tara. If he was smart, he’d shake off that domesticity right then.
The little girl held her basket with one hand and grasped his fingers with her other one. “Where we going now, Mr. Telford?”
“We’re going home. You need to take care of your puppy, and I’ve…uh got to do some work.”
He wanted to ask Alexis if she was always so serene or if… No, that wasn’t it. Maybe he just didn’t understand her facial expressions. And maybe you’d better not try, a niggling voice warned him.
“Thanks for showing us around,” she said, as he prepared to leave them at the bottom of the stairs. “And for letting Tara have the puppy. You’ve made her so happy.”
“My pleasure.” Remembering his father’s words, “Always get it straight in advance,” he sat on the steps and pulled Tara into the curve of his arm.
“Puppies need rules. He cannot run through the house. For now, he sleeps in your room, but when he’s older, on the back porch. You bathe him at least once a week. Henry will tell you about feeding him. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” To his amazement, her little arms snaked around his neck and she pressed kisses to his cheek. “I have to go take care of Biscuit,” she said, cradling the basket. “Bye.”
Tara ran off, but Alexis remained there. He looked at her, and this time he could read her, because he’d caught her off guard with her feelings naked in her eyes. He didn’t think he saw gratitude there, but with lightning speed, she pulled a curtain over her emotions, leaving him unsure. In that second, she set off something inside him that he couldn’t shove aside, and unless he put on the brakes right then…
He jumped up. “See you at supper.”
She called it dinner, thanks to her Yankee roots, and the Southerner in him thought of it as supper. He half smiled. Another of their inconsequential differences.
“Thanks again, Telford.”
Her voice, soft and sweet, soothed him, gave him a strange peace, and he had to admit that she represented what he needed and didn’t have: a warm and loving woman in whom he could lose himself and his cares.
Suddenly, he spun around. “What am I thinking? I won’t be home for supper tonight. Tell Henry, if you don’t mind.”
He’d been single for thirty-six years and content with his status. Alone, he’d sent himself and his brothers through school, held his family together after losing his parents, and he’d done it on his own, gone through the tough times by himself. These days, life was a piece of cake by comparison. He wasn’t about to complicate his life. But what a temptation Alexis Stevenson was! When she fixed her wide, soft brown eyes on him and subjected him to the peaceful air she wore like a cloak, she weakened his defenses. Inviting. Captivating. Her smooth black skin, patrician nose, luscious lips and full breasts did all kinds of things to his libido. He exhaled a harsh breath. Every perfect curve of her body said woman. Jack Stevenson had to be either a fool or a modern tragedy.
When he opened his room door, he thought of Tara expecting him at supper. Now what? He waited twenty minutes and dialed Alexis’s phone number.
“Mind if I speak with Tara?”
“Not at all. Just a second.”
No preliminaries. He liked that. “Hello, Tara. This is Telford. Have you fed your puppy?”
“Yes, and he’s already asleep.”
“Good. I’ll see you in the morning at breakfast.” He hadn’t lied, and she wouldn’t expect him, so she wouldn’t be disappointed. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. An hour later, he was in his Buick Le Sabre headed for Frederick.
Alexis finished pulling the red caftan over her head, tied the thongs of her sandals around her ankles, walked over to her daughter and put the phone back into its cradle. “What did he say?”
“He told me to feed Biscuit.”
“That’s all?”
“No. He said he’d see me in the morning. Can I have my keyboard now?”
She gave Tara the keyboard, opened the door and walked out into the garden. He’d decided not to have dinner with them and, remembering that Tara would miss him, he’d prepared her. A kind, thoughtful man, but he walked alone, and after what she’d suffered the past four and a half years, she preferred to do the same. Whether she’d made a mistake in signing the contract with Telford would depend on how they deported themselves. Worrying about her reaction to him was a waste of time, and she intended to focus on her sculpting.
“Mummy. Telephone.”
“Hello,” she said, winded after running halfway across the garden. “Velma! I’d begun to wonder if you’d gotten my message.”
“I did, but I’ve been flying around like crazy. What’s he like?”
She prepared herself for the third degree. “What’s who like?”
“Don’t try to bamboozle me, sis. Anytime your mind goes blank, I know you’re hiding something. And this time, it’s a man.”
“Velma, I’ve been here exactly six days.”
“So? You could’ve conceived sextuplets by now. What’s he like?”
She sat down, crossed her legs and prepared for a grilling by her older sister. “Telford Harrington is, so far as I have been able to determine, a gentleman. That’s the sum total of my knowledge of the man.”
“My, my. And we’re so precise. If he’s too much of a gentleman, he can be a bore. What do you think of the place?”
She told her, adding, “Nobody who lives here is suffering.”
“Does he have any brothers?”
Alexis laughed aloud, figuring she’d get some of her own. “Two of ’em. Drake, the one I met, makes Billy Dee Williams look ordinary.”
Velma’s whistle burned her ear. “Quit lying, girl. When I look at Billy Dee in those old movies, I just get plain unconscious. He’s da man. If this brother’s in Billy Dee’s class, honey, look for me, and soon.”
“Trust me. He’s a sizzler.” She could picture Velma’s mental machine at work.
“If he’s so hot, what’s wrong with him that you’re not interested?”
“No chemistry.” That much was true. “And I work for these guys.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to carry it off, hon? That’s hard work, and you’re not used to it. I could strangle Jack Stevenson.”
“As Grandma used to say, ‘let him lie.’ I have Tara—or did have. She has mutual affairs going with both Harringtons and the cook.” Alexis wiped the dampness from beneath her eyes. “Jack ignored Tara, and she is really basking in the attention these men give her. I think she’s fallen for Telford.”
“Telford, huh? So that’s his name?”
“Would you please back up, Velma? I am not interested in these men.”
“Of course you aren’t. If one of those blood brothers is a knockout, so are the others. That thing runs in families, and I’ll bet Telford’s good-looking and you’re sweet on him. Anyhow, I want to meet Drake.”
“No, you don’t. He’s younger than you are.”
“Don’t start preaching. If he’s of legal age, intelligent, otherwise mature and has everything in the right places, so what?”
Alexis couldn’t help laughing. “Drake Harrington is an architectural engineer and time enough for you and a few more women. If you meet him, you’ll have to pay me not to tell him what you just said.”
“I’m crying a river. What about the other brother?”
He was a question mark, an important one, because she didn’t know how he would react to Tara. “Haven’t seen him yet, but Drake referred to him as ‘old sourpuss.’ He’s the middle brother. When can you come visit me?”
“Soon as you can get the family together. I want my pick of those brothers.”
“I’ll bet. How’s business?”
“Great. I just signed to cater the Omega convention. And keep your fingers crossed. I’m bidding for the AKA annual.”
“I’m proud of you, sis. I wish you’d show me how to make that crisscross lemon-almond cake.”
“Get me a Harrington, and I will.”
“I’ll… I think that’s the doorbell. I’d better answer it. Talk to you later.”
She rushed down the long hallway to the front door, peeped out and saw a black Mercedes parked in front of the house. She slipped on the chain, cracked the door and peeped at the visitor.
“You can open it,” Henry called to her, and she wondered why he hadn’t done that himself.
She flung the door open and gaped at the man who continued to stand there staring at her. “I’m Russ Harrington,” he said at last and brushed past her.
Forgetting that she was the housekeeper, she left the door ajar in a kind of reprimand and walked past him.
“Just a minute, miss. Where’s Drake?”
“Drake? I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“Then who’re…what’re you doing here?”
“I’m Alexis Stevenson, and I’m not visiting either one of your brothers. I’m the housekeeper.”
His lower lip dropped. “The what?”
“The housekeeper. Dinner’s at seven.” She walked off and left him wide-eyed and openmouthed.
She’d finally met a Harrington she wasn’t sure she liked, and she was almost certain that he wouldn’t like Tara.
Chapter 3
“Well, I’ll be damned. If she’s a housekeeper, I’m William the Conqueror.” Russ walked into the kitchen hoping that Henry would enlighten him, but he wasn’t there. He moved up the stairs at a slow pace. Surely, Telford hadn’t lost his mind and hired that woman to… He stopped on the stairs, took out his cell phone and dialed Telford’s cell number.
He skipped the greeting. “Man, I just got home, and this woman who looked as if she was about to entertain the governor opened the door and told me she’s the housekeeper. Tell me she’s lying or that you’re having a little fun at my expense.”
“Henry’s getting too old to look after that big house, and the place needs more than a—”
Russ sucked in his breath and interrupted his older brother. “So what you’re telling me is the woman gliding around here in a long red getup is a housekeeper you hired. Have you lost your mind?”
“She’s competent. How’d it go in Barbados?’
“More or less as we thought. Five stories and a one-level basement is the maximum, and don’t try to get me off the subject of this glamour girl who’s posing as a housekeeper.” The more he thought about losing his privacy, the madder he got. “I don’t care if she has a PhD in housekeeping, I’m not changing my life for her. You expect me to walk around here fully clothed, keep my room door closed and—”
“Give it a rest, Russ. She and I signed a two-year contract, and it’s binding. Besides, she not a housekeeper; the contract says she’s a homemaker.”
“Whatever. You could at least have hired somebody who looked like a housekeeper. Humph. Homemaker. I thought she was Drake’s latest conquest, and I think I upset her by acting as if she were.”
Telford’s whistle pierced his ears. “I’ll bet that rang her bell.”
“Did it ever. You should have seen how fast her back went up. Where are you right now?”
“I’m in Frederick.”
“Well, you’d better come here and straighten out this mess. Give her a big severance check. Anything. She’s got to go.”
“Not a chance, Russ. By the way, dinner is at seven; hat off in the house; no swearing; no loud voice; we all eat together; and we say grace at meals.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” He couldn’t believe the snicker he heard coming through the wire, but there it was again.
“New house rules. I’ll get in late tonight. See you.”
Russ stared at the dial tone. He was having none of it. After dumping his bags in a corner of his room and kicking off his shoes, he charged, barefooted, downstairs in search of anybody against whom he could release a little venom.
“Hello. What’s your name?”
He whirled around and banged his head against the antique chest that had stood in that spot in the hallway since before he was born. He was on his way out of his mind. He was certain of it.
“My name is Tara. Who’re you?”
He looked down at her and tried to collect his wits. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Maybe you’ll tell me who you are.”
“I already told you. Where’s Mr. Telford?”
“He’s…uh…out of town, but when he gets back here, you will definitely know it.”
“You want to see Biscuit?”
“Biscuit?”
“Biscuit is my little puppy. Mr. Henry gave him to me.”
He looked toward the ceiling and fought the urge to bare his teeth. Animals did not belong in a house, and especially not if he lived there. “Did he, now? Where’s your mother, Tara?”
To his surprise, she took his hand and smiled. “She’s around here.”
He’d been in a trance ever since he walked in the door, so he submitted to the eerie feeling that he might have lost his mind, allowed her to hold his hand and followed her.
“There you are, darling.”
He stopped and waited until Alexis reached him. “I assume this is your kid.”
“You assume wrong. She’s a little girl, my daughter.”
He ran his hand over his silky curls and regrouped. “Didn’t mean to be offensive, but this… Well, it’s unsettling at best. I don’t know what my brother was thinking about. With two females in this… This is a man’s preserve, and with you here, we’ll have to reinvent ourselves. This isn’t going to work.”
She folded her arms, as relaxed as if she were unaware of his annoyance. “You’ll hardly ever run into either one of us, and when you do, you’ll find you don’t mind it at all. We’ll see you at dinner. Come along, Tara.”
“Wait a second. Didn’t you understand me? I said this isn’t—”
This housekeeper had the temerity to interrupt him. “I heard you, but you want to quarrel with somebody. Anybody will do, but I never argue. We’ll see you at dinner. Seven o’clock.”
She took her daughter’s hand, turned and left him standing there.
Housekeeper, huh? Queen of Sheba was more like it. He went to the telephone in the hallway and dialed Henry’s cottage. When he didn’t get an answer, he dialed Henry’s room off the kitchen.
“Henry. I’m trying to sleep.”
“How are you, Henry? This is Russ. I came—”
“I know good and well who it is, and I still need my sleep.”
“And I need some answers. Where did Telford find Alexis Stevenson? How long’s she been here, and what about this little girl and this puppy? This is no place for grown men anymore.”
“No? Things musta changed since I was your age. She’s the housekeeper, and you needn’t raise a stink about Tara, ’cause she’s got your brothers in her pocket.”
“And you, too, I suppose.”
“Well, she is a right cute little tyke, and just as sweet as anything. Might as well get up, since you broke my rest. Supper’s at seven.”
Russ hung up and headed back to his room. An outsider in his own home.
Although she was off duty, Alexis set the table for dinner in the breakfast room. The sooner she got Russ Harrington off his high horse the better, though she suspected he’d resist change until a crisis forced him to be reasonable. She arranged the table with embroidered linen place mats, family-heirloom porcelain, silver and crystal goblets, flowers and lighted candles in silver candlesticks. She’d overdone it, but that was her way of declaring war. Her child deserved a peaceful, happy environment, not an atmosphere soured by Russ’s disgruntlement. She hoped Drake would be home for dinner, because the prospect of eating with Russ and only Tara as a buffer all but took her appetite.
