Housekeeper at His Beck and Call. Susan Stephens

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Название Housekeeper at His Beck and Call
Автор произведения Susan Stephens
Жанр Зарубежные любовные романы
Серия
Издательство Зарубежные любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408902714



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considered the ruined wedding dress, currently residing in a black plastic bag on top of the bins. What had torn Liv away from her own wedding? She must have known what she was getting into. She appeared to be the girl with everything…or was she the girl with nothing, who had realised how empty her life would become, and had decided to do something about it?

      She was as pigheaded as he was, he concluded as she reached the gates. She had left without speaking to him first and clearly didn’t know the local bus only stopped every two hours outside the gates and she had just missed the last one. He could chase after her and explain, but something told him she wouldn’t appreciate that; she wanted to do things on her own, to prove she could.

      She barely paused at the bus stop, before starting off down the road. Did she know how far it was to the next stop? There was a rusty bike languishing in the back of the garage, or he could even drive her into town, but didn’t he expect rookies under his command to use their initiative? Something told him Liv Tate would do just that. Plus she’d suffered enough for one day, and if she was anything like him she needed time and space to find her own solutions. Whatever had happened to her in the church that morning she had managed to put it behind her, and now she was determined to get on with the rest of her life. He could only admire that, and even envy it a little. Pulling away from the window, he left her to it.

      She hitched a lift into town. Olivia Tate, formerly known as Miss Prissy-Pants-Caution-Is-Her-Watchword, waited as long as she could bear to for the bus and then hitched a lift into town with a lorry driver; a lorry driver moreover who offered to share his hamburger with her. How good was that? Having ascertained that that was all he wanted to share, she thanked the fates for being kind to her and declined politely.

      By the time she climbed down from the cab on the outskirts of town Big Harry and Liv were good friends, but her buoyant mood was rudely shattered by the vicar’s wife, who lost no time in telling her that Olivia Tate was not welcome in town. ‘Why, Olivia Tate. I’m amazed you dare to show your face today of all days! And what on earth were you doing with a…truck driver?’

      Liv’s eyes narrowed. Had this sort of thing been going on all along, and she’d only just noticed how ridiculous people were? ‘Big Harry?’ she said, affecting surprise. ‘Why, he’s my friend.’ And a better friend than you are, Liv concluded. Hugging Cade’s gran’s clothes for comfort, she turned her face towards the high street and the next part of her mission.

      Liv was the first to admit she had a problem with shoes. She could never pass a sale sign without taking a look, and sale signs seemed to be everywhere, tempting her today. But she was looking for sensible shoes to wear at Featherstone—sturdy lace-ups with flat heels, she decided, forcing her reluctant feet past rows of massively discounted designer footwear.

      She spent some of Cade’s money, and then a little more—telling herself she would work it off—before finally taking cover from the rain inside the Minster Tea rooms while she waited for the local bus to arrive.

      Having drained the last of her coffee, she glanced at her watch. It was time to collect Cade’s gran’s clothes from the dry-cleaner’s. It made Liv smile every time she thought about them. Cade was all bark and no bite, she had decided. And now she really must go. She had collected a timetable from the bus station, and had no intention of being caught out a second time.

      Of course, she could always take a taxi, Liv reflected, looking out of the window at the pouring rain; Cade had given her plenty of money…

      And have him think her a wuss?

      Smiling at the waitress, she asked for the bill.

      He’d had to drive into town to pick up light bulbs. He wasn’t looking for Liv. It was just coincidence that made him cruise past the tea shop. He thumped the wheel in triumph when he spotted her seated by the window. And now he’d finished his shopping and the rain was sheeting down. He decided, in one of his ‘gallant knight helps out the little lady’ moments, to offer her a lift. But as he depressed the brake pedal in preparation to park he noticed the redoubtable Ms Tate was already striding down the high street in the direction of the dry-cleaner’s. So she had planned everything to coincide with the local bus leaving…

      Good for her.

      In spite of the dentist’s warning about grinding his jaw, he did so before stepping on the accelerator. He had wanted to be her white knight.

      Yes, and, for a man who shunned feelings, that was dangerous.

      On Liv’s return journey reality started to sink in. Now the trek up the drive of Featherstone was a guilty march and her head was full of how wretched everyone she had left behind must be feeling now. How would Horace feel? She knew she should be there with him now, facing the music and convincing him how much better his life would be without her.

       How were her parents?

      Liv’s firm stride faltered. She couldn’t tell tears from rain as she pushed her rain-soaked hair back. What a mess she’d made of everything, and now that nosy woman in town would embroider the facts, talk up Big Harry, and fill her mother with dread. The encounter had prompted her to leave a brief message on her father’s mobile to reassure him, knowing he would be the calmer of the two. She had also written a letter home, which she now posted. She had spoiled her mother’s special day, and, whatever their disagreements in the past, she loved her parents; they’d sacrificed everything for her. It was only her mother’s fear and insecurity that made her act the way she did. Liv should have known that and found a way to break through her reserve—touch her, reach her, reassure her, hug her…

      As Featherstone Hall loomed in front of her and Liv saw Cade’s rugged vehicle parked outside, her bones turned to water. Whatever she’d done Cade Grant could sweep in and dominate her thoughts at the drop of a hat. Returning to him was exciting and frightening; he made her feel so vulnerable. It was like balancing on the edge of a precipice knowing a breath of wind could tumble her off. The thought of him, so big and sexy, with those expressive eyes that could look so haunted one minute and so challenging the next…Frying-pan into the fire didn’t even begin to cover it. Ruining her wedding was unforgivable; the pain she’d caused her mother was unforgivable; leaving Horace at the altar was unforgivable, but at least she had an underlying sense that she’d done the right thing even if she’d gone about it the wrong way. She had no such reassurances where Cade was concerned.

      Clutching her precious parcel from the dry-cleaner’s, Liv picked up pace. She had promised to make Cade a nice supper, and had all the fresh organic ingredients in her shopping bag. In her smart, transparent, state-of-the-art plastic, this season’s must-have tote, Liv corrected herself. She hadn’t been able to resist snapping up the last of them at the store. And, yes, that made her shallow…Or maybe it was her insurance policy she had to secure the job now. She must stay on until she could pay Cade back the money she owed him.

      Freudian shopping? Or was it just an irresistible urge to play with fire?

      Whatever her motives, the thought of seeing Cade again certainly filled her with a blaze of excitement.

      ‘What time do you call this?’

      ‘Er, supper time?’ Liv’s cheeks blazed. No man had ever spoken to her in so sharp a tone before, and she wasn’t absolutely sure how to respond. Cade looked furious, but what had she done? She checked her watch. She wasn’t late. She had done everything he’d asked her to. His ‘tiger with a thorn in its pad’ stare wounded her more than he knew. So was she going to crumple? Drawing herself up, she met it coolly. She wasn’t going to fail. She wasn’t going to fail—

      ‘Well, don’t just stand there,’ he said impatiently. ‘You’re dripping rain all over the place.’

      ‘Your compassion overwhelms me,’ she said coolly. ‘Has something happened to upset you while I was away?’

      He looked at her suspiciously. Everything was upsetting him. He had invited a scrap of a woman into his life, and she’d turned it upside down in no time flat. Wasn’t that enough to upset him? And did he want to feel this way? Did he want to feel anything? Plus