Upstairs Downstairs Temptation (The Men 0f Stone River Book 2)

by Janice Maynard

  “It’s just beyond those trees. In the other direction, north and west of us, is the Moosehorn National Wildlife Refuge. And of course, north and east, if you keep going, is the Canadian border.”

  Ivy had never been this far up in Maine, but in Farrell’s office she had seen aerial photographs of three spectacular homes on rocky promontories overlooking the sea, each one bearing the stamp of its owner.

  Almost two centuries before, a Stone ancestor had acquired an enormous tract of pristine wilderness. He named the small river meandering through his property after himself. Subsequent generations sold off the bulk of the land, but the current Stone brothers still owned several hundred square miles. They liked their privacy. The company that had made them all wildly wealthy was born in this forested paradise.

  The isolation and seclusion weren’t daunting to Ivy at all. They represented safety and security. A chance to finally be herself.

  When Katie turned off onto the road that accessed Stone family property, she entered a code at the gate and kept right on going. A perfectly paved road meandered for the next seven miles.

  Dolly was beginning to stir when they reached Farrell’s house. On the way, they had passed turnoffs leading to homes Zachary and Quin had built. “I’ll show you our place another day,” Katie said. “I know you probably want to get settled in. Shall we go to the big house first and see Farrell, or head straight for the cabin?”

  “Cabin, please.”

  As they wound around the side of Farrell’s magnificent house, Ivy craned her neck to get a better view. The place was huge, easily six thousand square feet. Maybe more. It had a traditional New England look to it with lots of blue clapboard and white trim, and even a widow’s walk at the very top. Windows everywhere offered views of the ocean.

  Behind Farrell’s home, deeper into the woods, sat a charming dollhouse of a cabin, constructed of rough-hewn logs. It was perfect in every way, and when Ivy stepped out of the car and inhaled, the scent of freshly cut wood assailed her nose.

  “This is it,” Katie said, looking over the top of the car at Ivy. “Do you think you and Dolly will be comfortable here?”

  Ivy wanted to laugh incredulously. The setting was sheer wonder. “Who wouldn’t be?” she said calmly. “It looks perfect.”

  The inside was even better than the outside. The cabin was small, barely eight hundred square feet. Two neat bedrooms with a shared bath between. A compact kitchen with the latest appliances. And a comfy living room with a couch, two matching armchairs and a real wood-burning fireplace.

  Someone—Farrell, maybe—had stacked a neat pile of firewood near the hearth. A wooden crate filled with kindling and a mason jar of matches flanked the opposite side.

  Ivy felt tears burn her eyelids. She held them back by sheer force of will. Katie wouldn’t understand, and Ivy didn’t have it in her to explain. Not now. Not today. Maybe not ever.

  “Who got the baby bed for us? Was it you?” Ivy asked.

  Katie shook her head. “No. That was Farrell’s idea. He thought you could leave the port-a-crib at his place, so you’d be able to nap Dolly in either location. That’s an engineer for you. Always studying and planning.”

  “It was very thoughtful.” Actually, the magnitude of the gesture spoke volumes about the kind of man Farrell Stone was. Ivy was overwhelmed and trying not to show it.

  Dolly began to fuss, so Ivy opened the back door of Katie’s car. “Don’t cry, sweet girl. I know it’s time to get out.” The novelty of the great outdoors soothed the baby’s grievances immediately.

  Katie laughed. “Look at her face. I think she likes it here.”

  It was true. The baby’s head swiveled from side to side, taking it all in. She stuck her fist in her mouth and sucked it contentedly.

  Ivy took a deep breath, searching for composure, gathering herself. “I don’t want to keep you too long,” she said. “You’ve already done so much. If it’s okay with you, let’s go on to the other house so your brother-in-law can show me around and tell me his routine.”

  Two

  Farrell was nervous. The emotion was such an anomaly, he examined it to see if it was actually hunger or fatigue in disguise.

  Nope. He was nervous.

  Perhaps it was because he was upending his entire working life. Maybe he was afraid the new digs wouldn’t be as conducive to creativity as his old lab in Portland.

  Or maybe he was still anxious about the possibility of espionage. Was that it? Was he worried about losing another design?

  He was a man of measured thoughts and actions. Neither as reckless as his younger brother nor as carefree as his middle brother. Farrell was the oldest. The responsible one.

  After examining and discarding all the possible sources of his unease, he came to the only remaining conclusion.

  He was nervous about having Ivy Danby move in with him.

  Ah, hell. She wasn’t moving in with him. He paced the length of the living room, gazing out the huge windows, trying to draw comfort from the ever-changing ocean.

  Ivy Danby was going to prepare his meals and clean his house. She and her daughter would not be guests beneath his roof. They had another roof. Their own roof.

  One that belongs to you, said his annoying inner voice.

  Farrell had spotted Katie’s car in the driveway almost half an hour ago. Clearly, she was showing Ivy the cabin and helping her settle in. They would be here soon.

  When the doorbell finally rang, he ran his hands through his hair and opened the door, hoping he didn’t look as rattled as he felt. “Hello, Katie,” he said. “And Ivy. Come in.”

  Dolly stared at him as if he had sprouted a second head. What did Farrell know about kids anyway? Zip. Nada.

  So he focused on the two adult women. “Was the trip okay?”

  Katie waved a breezy hand. “Piece of cake. They finished that construction on I-95, so we made great time.”

  “Good. Good.”

  She eyed him strangely. “I have the last two boxes of your files in my trunk. I think that’s everything you need.”

  During the past four days, his two brothers and Katie had helped him pack up his lab. There had been confusion in the Portland office. No one but his immediate family knew why he was making this change. He still wondered if it was necessary, but time would tell.

  Katie took charge of the awkward moment. “Why don’t I play with this cute little munchkin while you two talk?”

  When she walked out of the room, Ivy stared at Farrell with those big eyes. He cleared his throat. “I suppose we could start in the kitchen.”

  Ivy nodded soberly. “Of course.”

  He showed her the fridge and the pantry and how the cupboards were organized. All things an intelligent grown woman could have figured out on her own. Then he shrugged. “I’m not hard to please. I set the coffee maker the night before, so you don’t have to worry about that. I usually work from six a.m. to eight and then take a break for breakfast. I like everything except oatmeal. No oatmeal, please.”

  For the first time, a little smile tilted Ivy’s lips. “Oatmeal is good for your heart,” she said.

  He scowled. “My heart is fine. No oatmeal.”

  She saluted him. “No oatmeal. Got it, Mr. Stone.”

  “You’ll have to call me Farrell.”

  It was her turn to frown. “Why?”

  Her stubbornness frustrated him. “Because it’s only going to be the two of us up here, and we knew each other years ago, damn it.”

  Ivy eyed him with disapproval. “There are three of us,” she reminded him, her voice tart. “And I don’t want you cursing around my impressionable daughter. If that’s a problem, you can fire me now.”

  He gaped at her, his normally placid temper igniting. “Seriously? Damn, woman, you’re uptight.”

  “That’s number two,” she said prim
ly.

  In all honesty, he hadn’t realized that he had cursed at her a second time. He felt his face get hot. “I will be careful around your daughter.”

  Ivy gnawed her lip. “Are you a volatile man, Farrell?”

  “Volatile?” His jaw dropped again. Never in his life had he been described as volatile. Stubborn, maybe. Too focused when he was working. Emotionally closed off. But never volatile.

  Farrell swallowed his frustration and moderated his voice. “I promise you, Ivy, most people think of me as easygoing. I do get lost in my projects at times. It’s possible I might forget you’re here. But ours will be an even-keeled working relationship. I swear it.” As long as I pretend she’s not the most fascinating woman I’ve met in years. “I’ll go talk to my sister-in-law and let you familiarize yourself with the kitchen.”

  He found Katie on the front porch showing Dolly the squirrels in the yard. When she spotted Farrell, she smiled. “We’re staying in the shade. I doubt Miss Dolly has on sunscreen.”

  Farrell lowered his voice. “So what’s Ivy’s deal, Katie? How long ago did her husband die? Did he see his kid born? What happened?”

  Katie sobered. “Her private life isn’t any of our business, Farrell. The truth is, she won’t be gossiping about your work. She’s in a difficult place, and you’re giving her a chance to start over. Delanna said it sounded like Ivy had come from a bad situation, though details were vague. As shell-shocked as Ivy was, she didn’t have a lot to say.”

  “How is your sister these days? Isn’t she pissed that you snatched up her roommate and spirited her away?”

  “A little. She’ll get over it. There’ll be another roommate. Now that she ditched her loser boyfriend, Delanna is doing great. She doesn’t even ask to borrow money anymore. I’m proud of her.” Katie smoothed the baby’s hair and kissed the top of her head. She held out her arms. “Do you want to hold her? She’s a sweetie pie, aren’t you, love?”

  Farrell took the baby automatically, only to find that she weighed a lot less than he’d expected. Her little body was warm and pudgy, her skin soft and scented with good baby smells. His heart flopped in his chest. He’d never agonized over not being a father. It wasn’t meant to be. But for a fleeting second, he felt a moment’s pity for the poor bastard who had died without getting to see his daughter grow up.

  He rubbed the baby’s back absently. The autumn breeze was cool, but not cold. The day was perfect. “Thank you, Katie,” he said, giving his sister-in-law a grateful smile.

  She stretched her arms over her head, staring out at the panorama of colorful fall foliage and brilliant blue ocean. “For what?”

  “For bringing Ivy to me and helping her get settled, but mostly for making Quin happy.”

  Katie’s small smile was happy, too, and maybe a bit smug. “Did he tell you we’re going skiing in December? Nothing major. Just a few runs at Aspen. So he can find his mojo again. And plenty of nights by the fire with hot buttered rum and—”

  Farrell held up a hand in alarm. “I don’t want to hear about your sexual escapades with my brother.”

  “How do you know that’s what I was going to say?” She grinned.

  Farrell chuckled. “You know, Katie, I’m actually looking forward to working in this unorthodox arrangement. A brand-new lab... I may come up with a few brilliant designs.”

  “I hope you do,” Katie said. “Stone River Outdoors needs a boost. These last few years have been hard.”

  “Yes. They have.” He handed the child back to Katie.

  His sister-in-law gave him a wry look as if she knew exactly how unwilling he was to bond with the baby. “What did you do with Ivy?”

  “She’s getting her bearings in the kitchen. I’m sure she’ll come find us shortly.”

  * * *

  Ivy opened the huge built-in wall refrigerator and stared. Someone had stocked it well. She wondered how far afield she would have to go to replenish perishables, but then she spotted a delivery-service notepad on a corner of the beautiful gray-and-silver-quartz countertop. Apparently, Farrell could get deliveries whenever he liked.

  This kitchen was a dream. Ivy was a good cook. She’d had plenty of time to practice over the years with a demanding spouse. Preparing meals here would be no hardship. Farrell’s house was like something off one of those HGTV shows. The “after” version on steroids. She knew the Stone family was wealthy, but this was something else again.

  More to the point, this was Farrell’s second home. He owned a large condo in Portland that was probably even swankier than this. She couldn’t imagine having that kind of money.

  For Ivy’s part, she only wanted enough to care for her daughter and keep a roof over their heads. As long as Farrell Stone needed to work in a secret lab deep in the forest, she was determined to make herself indispensable to him.

  The kitchen door swung open. The object of her thoughts strode in looking like the alpha male he was. Masculine. In charge. Gorgeous. On his heels was Katie.

  Farrell smiled. “Everything okay?”

  “More than okay,” Ivy said. “This kitchen is amazing.” She took Dolly from Katie. “But what about cleaning? How often do you want me to give the whole house a once-over?”

  “I can answer that,” Katie said. “Men are clueless about these things. Farrell entertains fairly often, at least once a month. Primarily business functions. The top two floors have four bedrooms each, all with their own small en suites. I’m sure you’ll want to do a bit of touch-up if there’s an event on the calendar. Other than that, you shouldn’t have to bother with upstairs until the guests depart.”

  Farrell frowned. “I can call in a cleaning service after we have a big house party. That shouldn’t fall to Ivy. We agreed on meal preparation and light housekeeping.”

  Ivy bristled. “I can handle it.”

  “No.” Farrell’s brows drew together in a frown. “That’s my decision. Not yours.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he stared her down. “Fine,” she muttered. “Waste your money if you want to.”

  Farrell was an imposing male. His size and visible strength might have unnerved her if she hadn’t been so aware of him in a shivery, fascinated way. Besides, he seemed to downplay the fact that he could probably bench-press three hundred pounds.

  He topped six feet by several inches. Katie, standing near him, was tall for a woman. Five-eight, maybe. Beside Farrell, she looked positively petite.

  Farrell’s hair was an intriguing mix. Dark brown like Ivy’s, but his was streaked with caramel and gold, a color many women would pay high dollar to achieve. He wore it long enough to be casual, but short enough to fit in with his role as one of the bosses.

  His eyes were an odd shade of green, and like his hair—streaked with gold. They were eyes that held a wealth of life knowledge. He seemed a serious man. Grounded. Not prone to whimsy.

  That was fine with Ivy. She didn’t want any surprises.

  Katie glanced at her watch. “I’ve gotta run,” she said. “Have to be back in Portland by six.”

  The two women hugged. Katie kissed Dolly’s forehead. Ivy felt a stab of panic that her benefactor was leaving. “Thank you for all your help, Katie. I appreciate it more than you know.”

  “Not a problem. I love it up here. Quin and I may head this way sometime soon. I’ll see you then.”

  Farrell left the kitchen to follow his sister-in-law out to her car...like a good host. Or maybe he was simply unloading the boxes of files Katie had mentioned. Ivy lingered behind, pondering the dinner options. This first meal might be tricky. Learning to work in someone else’s kitchen was always a challenge. Everyone organized cabinets and drawers differently. She opened the pantry again, and then peeked in the freezer.

  Moments later, Farrell returned, his hair tousled from the breeze. “Why don’t you and Dolly spend the rest of the afternoon getting t
o know your new home? I’ll throw something together for dinner tonight.”

  Ivy’s eyes widened. It was her turn to stand her ground. “No,” she said. “No, Farrell. You hired me to do a job. I appreciate your hospitable nature, but I’ll be the one cooking. Is six okay?”

  He folded his arms across his chest, his expression telegraphing his displeasure. “I sense that you and I may have the occasional run-in. Do you agree?”

  “I don’t need your charity. I want to work for my living.”

  “And yet your résumé had not a single scrap of job experience listed in the previous ten years. Would you care to explain?”

  She sucked in a sharp breath, not expecting him to go on the attack. Her jaw trembled despite her best efforts to steady it. “No,” she said quietly. “I wouldn’t.” She gnawed her lip, trying not to slide into despair. Fight, Ivy. Fight for yourself and Dolly. “Have you changed your mind about me?” she asked, her throat dry and tight.

  His gaze was puzzled. Concerned. Frustrated. “The job is yours,” he said bluntly. “I don’t go back on my word. But I also expect my employees to follow my direction.”

  “Don’t you mean your orders?” she snapped, horrified the moment the words left her mouth. She closed her eyes briefly and grimaced. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not making the best first impression.” She hesitated, for the first time feeling the tsunami of exhaustion that always follows substantive change. “I appreciate your consideration. Dolly will be wanting a nap, and I could use one, too. Please let me know when to return for dinner.”

  * * *

  Farrell leaned over the sink and watched his newest employee make her way to the cabin that stood twenty-five yards from the house. His new working quarters were housed in a similar structure, just beyond the cabin and to the right.

  He had a few hours’ grace before he needed to start dinner. But for some reason, he was too unsettled to head out to the lab. It was a perfect spot. The building included a nice office in addition to the lab itself. Today, though, he was off his game. Perhaps it would take time to adjust.