Father Most Blessed. Marta Perry

this idea of Maida’s.” He knew he sounded inflexible, but he didn’t want to put this off. The longer he waited, the more difficult it would be.

      He pulled out a deck chair for her. Looking reluctant, she sat down. He settled in the seat next to her and instantly regretted his choice. They were facing the gazebo at the end of the pool. They shouldn’t be having this conversation in view of the spot where he’d kissed her.

      But it was too late now, and maybe it was just as well. That embarrassing episode should make her as reluctant as he was to pursue Maida’s scheme. He’d give her an easy way out of this dilemma, that was all. And she’d be ready to leave.

      Paula tugged at the sleeves of her knit top. Apparently she did that whenever she was nervous, as if she were protecting herself. He tried not to notice how the coral sweater brought out the warm, peachy color in her cheeks, or how the fine gold chain she wore glinted against her skin.

      Stick to business, he ordered himself. That was a good way to think of it. This was just like any business negotiation, and they both needed to go away from it feeling they’d gained something.

      “Be honest with me, Paula. You don’t really want to work here this summer, do you?”

      She glanced up at him, a startled expression in her eyes. “What makes you say that?”

      To his surprise, he couldn’t quite get the real reason out. Because the last time you were here, I kissed you and created an awkward situation for both of us. Because in spite of that, I still find you too attractive for my own peace of mind.

      No, he didn’t want to say any of that. He tried a different tack.

      “You probably had a teaching job of some sort lined up for the summer, didn’t you?”

      She shook her head, a rueful smile touching her lips. “There’s not much teaching available in the summer. I was signed up with a temp agency for office work.”

      “Office work?” He couldn’t stop the surprise in his voice, and realized instantly how condescending it sounded. “Why? I mean, couldn’t you find anything else?”

      Her expression suggested he didn’t have a clue as to how the real world worked. “Kindergarten teachers aren’t exactly on corporate headhunters’ wish lists, you know.”

      “But aren’t there courses you want to take in the summer?” He didn’t know why the thought of Paula taking temporary work to make ends meet bothered him so much. His reaction was totally irrational.

      “I can’t afford to take classes.” She said it slowly and distinctly, as if they spoke different languages. “I have college loans to pay off.”

      Belatedly he reminded himself he was supposed to be dissuading her from working for him. “Even so, I can’t imagine that you’d want to come here to cook and take care of Jason, instead.”

      He saw immediately that he’d said the wrong thing. In fact, he’d probably said a lot of wrong things. Paula had that effect on him.

      She stiffened, and anger flared in her face. “Cooking is honest work. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in what my aunt does,” she snapped, and she gripped the arms of the deck chair as if about to launch herself out of it.

      “No, of course not.” He seemed to be going even farther in the wrong direction. “I didn’t mean to imply that.”

      She stood, anger coming off her in waves. “I really have to leave for the hospital now, Alex. I’ve told my aunt I’m willing to fill in for her here as long as necessary, but, of course, you may have other plans. Either way, it’s up to you.”

      She spun on her heel before he could find words to stop her. He watched her stalk toward the garage, head high.

      Great. That was certainly the clumsiest negotiation he’d ever attempted. If he did that poorly in the business deal, the plant would be closed within a month.

      Paula had thrown the decision right back into his lap, and she’d certainly made her position clear. If he didn’t want her here, he’d have to be the one to say it. Unfortunately, where Paula was concerned, he really wasn’t sure what he wanted.

       Chapter Three

       A lex hadn’t hired her, and maybe he wouldn’t. But she couldn’t just let things go. Paula pulled into the garage late that afternoon, aware of how pitiful her junker looked in the cavernous building. Aunt Maida was still groggy from the successful surgery, but she’d soon be well enough to demand a report. Paula had to be able to reassure her.

      She walked quickly to the back door of the mansion. A small bicycle leaned against the laundry room door, reminding her of Jason and the matches. She should have told Alex, but their conversation had veered off in another direction entirely, and she hadn’t found the words. Maybe she still hadn’t.

      Even the geranium on the kitchen window sill seemed to droop in Maida’s absence. Breakfast dishes, stacked in the sink, made it clear that when Alex said he’d fix breakfast for himself and Jason, he hadn’t considered cleaning up. She turned the water on. It wasn’t her job. Alex hadn’t hired her. But Maida’s kitchen had always been spotless, and she couldn’t leave it this way.

      This was for Maida, she told herself, plunging her hands into hot, sudsy water. Not for Alex.

      She’d been angry at Alex’s implications about the housekeeper position, but she’d been just as guilty of thinking Maida’s job less important than her own. Now it was the job she needed and wanted to fill—if only she could erase the memory of Alex’s kiss.

      Enough. She concentrated on rubbing each piece of the sterling flatware. She’d come here to make up for the past by helping Jason through this difficult time. That was all.

      She heard the door swing behind her and turned. Jason stood staring at her. For a moment he didn’t move. Then he came toward her slowly. He stopped a few feet away.

      “I came to say I’m sorry.”

      “Are you, Jason?” Was it regret or good manners that brought him here? Maybe it didn’t really matter. At least he was talking. That was better than silence.

      “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” A quiver of apprehension crossed his face. “Did you tell my dad?”

      “No.” She pulled out a chair at the pine kitchen table. “I think Maida has some lemonade in the refrigerator. Want a glass?”

      He nodded a little stiffly. “That would be nice.”

      He was like his father, in manner as well as in looks, she thought as she poured two glasses of lemonade. Same dark hair and eyes, same well-defined bone structure, same strict courtesy.

      He didn’t have the stiff upper lip to his father’s degree of perfection, though. He watched her apprehensively as she sat down across from him.

      “I don’t want to tell him.” The words surprised her. Surely she should—but if she did, she’d never get beyond the barrier Jason seemed to have erected against the world. “I think you should, though. It’s pretty serious stuff. You could have gotten hurt.”

      “I won’t do it again.” Dark eyes pleaded with her. “Promise you won’t say anything. I won’t do it again, honest.”

      She studied his expression. Even at seven or eight, a lot of kids had figured out how to tell adults what they wanted to hear, instead of the truth. But Jason seemed genuinely dismayed at the result of his actions.

      She took a deep breath. Let me make the right decision. Please.

      “Okay, Jason. If you promise you won’t do it again, I promise I won’t tell.”

      His relieved smile was the first one she’d seen from him. Like his father, she thought again. A smile that rare made you want to forgive anything, just to see it.

      Jason didn’t seem to have inherited