What's A Housekeeper To Do?

by Jennie Adams

  ‘It could turn into a real little community, almost like a family,’ Lally said.

  ‘Can you spare a minute, Mr Travers?’ The site boss spoke as he knocked on the open apartment-door. ‘Those door panels we ordered have arrived. I think they’ll do as a substitute for the ones you originally wanted that were out of stock, but I figured you’d want to see for yourself.’

  Cam did want to see. Lally was already turning away to start her lunch preparations.

  ‘I’ll come now.’ Cam stepped outside and told himself it was perhaps best that they’d been interrupted. What was the point of plying Lally with personal questions that couldn’t make any difference to their relationship anyway?

  That would be the relationship you’re not having with her—the one that involves not thinking about kissing her, not wanting to kiss her again and not needing to know everything about her and understand her even more?

  Lally Douglas was his housekeeper and assistant. He didn’t need to know her past and her history and what made her tick. He didn’t.

  Cam’s mobile phone beeped in his pocket and he made a mental note to check his text messages straight after this. Somehow, multitasking every moment of his day didn’t feel quite as appealing any more.

  When had that happened to him?

  ‘Right. Let’s look at these panels.’ He strode purposefully forward with the site boss. At least his writing and the development were going well.

  Two evenings later, Cam and Lally stood in the swimming pool with their arms resting on the edge. It was Friday, around eight p.m. The day had been unseasonably hot, and they’d both made their way to the pool to cool off. Cam had already been in the water doing laps when Lally had joined him.

  They’d swum, and Cam had told himself not to think about long, bare limbs and a flow of wet hair down the graceful curve of her back. Now they were side by side in the water at the edge of the pool, looking out over the courtyard. Lally wore a one-piece teal swimsuit. It was modest, not that Cam should be giving more than a cursory glance anyway.

  ‘I’d put a pebble mosaic there.’ Lally raised one wet arm to point her finger at the centre of the courtyard. ‘One with a water feature in the middle so it made the area feel cool and restful all year round. I’d do it in earth tones and use a style similar to a dot-work motif.’

  ‘Symbolic of a traditional Aboriginal painting?’ Cam forced his thoughts to that idea. ‘That would look good. The colours would work with the existing pavers. The fact that they’re weathered would work really well with it. Do you know much about that kind of work?’

  Cam turned his head to look at her, and came very close to totally losing his train of thought.

  Lally was in the process of wringing the excess water out of her hair. The swimsuit was modest—one-piece, cut to her thighs, criss-crossing over her breasts and coming up into a halter tie at the back of her neck—but the outfit also left rather a lot of her back bare to his gaze. Her shoulders were gently sloped, fine-boned and sun-kissed. Cam wanted to follow where the sun had been, kissing his way to where she’d lifted her hair to wring it out and tie it in a loose knot at the back of her head.

  Sleek, touchable hair that looked different with some of the curl soaked out of it.

  No touching, no thinking about touching, and definitely no memory of kissing or wanting to do it again.

  ‘I’ve done mosaics myself.’ Lally uttered the words in a voice that held an edge of breathlessness, but not because of the topic of conversation. Her gaze dipped to his bare chest and skit tered away again. That simply, that easily, they were back to where they’d been all those nights ago when he’d held her in his arms at the top of that building.

  Cam had tried not to let his thoughts return there. He tried now, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from her—from every feature, every curve and dip, and all the loveliness from her soft, brown eyes to the lips that he had tasted and dreamed of tasting again. ‘Lally?’

  ‘I’d make a circular theme for the mosaic.’ Lally pushed the words out as Cam leaned towards her, and she leaned towards him.

  ‘That sounds good.’ It did, but looking into her eyes felt better. Stupid, maybe, but better.

  ‘With…’ Lally stopped and drew a deep breath. ‘With a pathway leading to the water feature and leading away from it. The feature itself would be at the centre of the circles.’

  Cam’s hand rose; his fingers just brushed across her damp shoulder. He wanted to pull her against his chest and kiss her until he was satisfied by the taste of her, the velvet of her mouth, the press of her softness against him. Instead, he nodded. ‘With the right colours and design, that could be really striking. Restful and interesting at the same time.’

  Cam cleared his throat and discovered his hand had come to rest on the pool-edging beside her. Though he wasn’t touching her at all, his body formed a half-cradle around hers. She could shift away in an instant, or she could take that one movement forward, all the way into his arms.

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ Her words were as distracted and breathless as his had been deep. She seemed to force herself to stick to the topic. ‘There’s a lot of garden edging the courtyard area—predominantly green most of the year, I’m guessing, with a few assorted colours of flowers? I think a mosaic in traditional colours from white sand through to ochre and dark browns would work really well.’

  ‘Yes.’ Cam inhaled and didn’t think about her mouth. Not at all. ‘And the mosaic itself could tell a story, couldn’t it?’

  ‘It could. The stones in the centre, surrounding the water feature, could represent a lake or the sea.’ She drew a shaky breath. ‘Coming in and going out of the feature could be rivers sur rounded by their sandy banks.’

  ‘Right.’ Cam’s mind worked through the idea slowly at first, but he liked it. ‘Will you do it for me, Lally?’

  Before she lowered her gaze, he thought that she had murmured she would do anything for him.

  When she lifted her head, her shoulders were thrown back and she had a glint of determination in her eyes, a businesslike determination. ‘You should know I’ve only done a couple of smaller mosaics in the past, but I do have confidence that—with the help of the site boss to guide me with the water-feature part of it—I could do a good job of this.’

  If Lally said she could do it, she could do it. ‘We’d need to make some trips to beaches to gather the colours of pebbles you want.’

  ‘I’d thought to perhaps source the pebbles industrially, but gathering them straight off beaches would mean more interesting stones.’ Lally nodded. ‘They would definitely give the mosaic a more natural look and feel.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me you’re an artist like some of the others in your family.’ One of her referees had noted that Lally should be painting—was she capable of that too?

  Lally moved away from him finally and made her way to the steps. She grasped the railing with one hand and looked at him over her shoulder. He could almost believe that those earlier moments hadn’t happened. Almost.

  ‘I haven’t done much painting.’ Lally went on. ‘More than one family member has encouraged me to really take it on, and I would like to learn. It’s a privilege to be handed down painting traditions and stories within the family. I don’t know why I’ve put it off.’ Yet shadows filled her eyes as she admitted she’d stalled on pursuing this part of her life.

  ‘What’s in your past, Lally Douglas?’ What was there to make her feel she couldn’t let herself have that privilege she’d just described? Had she held herself back from painting, just as she’d held back from allowing herself to bloom with all the vibrancy and colour she should embrace in other ways? What would make her feel that way?

  ‘Nothing. There’s nothing,’ she uttered.

  Cam wrapped a towel around his waist while she dried off in jerky movements and tied her towel sarong-style with a knot between her breasts. The words had come out too quickly, too defensively.

  Their eyes met and locked, and
Cam sensed so much hurt.

  ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’ His gaze softened on her taut face, the tight shoulders and defensive posture. He wanted to cuddle her, to pull her gently into his arms, to wrap his hold right around her and encourage her to feel completely safe, unthreatened and secure.

  Cam wanted to protect Lally, because there was something. That fact was now abundantly clear. Cam thought it might have been a man.

  The thought of some nameless male hurting Lally was hard for Cam to take. He didn’t want to think of anyone doing that to her.

  So don’t you mess with her, Travers. You can’t give her those gentle, kind things you just thought about. You might have had a random thought about them, but they’re not for you to give to her. Don’t hurt her by pulling her into anything when you can’t follow it through.

  If Cam drew Lally close, he would end up hurting her.

  So he looked away, and Lally looked away.

  She said with a great attempt at brightness, ‘The garden would play its part to make a pebble mosaic look great. The two things would complement each other. There’s already potential in the garden; it’s overgrown and un-tended but the basics are there.’

  She stepped across the courtyard to the nearest part of the garden and tugged a leaf from a mint plant. When she rubbed the leaf between her fingers, the pungent smell of the mint released into the air. ‘The mosaic would boost the garden, and the garden would enhance the mosaic.’

  ‘You’re completely right. I wanted a solution for this area, and what you’ve suggested works.’

  Lally had said it would make the area feel welcoming, and she’d mentioned giving a sense of community, like a family. If Cam wanted that…

  He wanted it for his prospective tenants, even if the site boss recommended otherwise.

  And when it came to his responses to Lally, his consciousness of her, yes, Cam still felt the tug of desire, the war of emotions he didn’t understand. He also felt the ongoing impact of gut-deep weariness.

  He didn’t notice that as often when he was in her company. And he felt Lally’s secrets, whatever they were. He had his, too, and these facts just underlined the importance of keeping an employer-employee line in the metaphorical sand between them.

  For both their sakes, for so many reasons.

  ‘My mother asked me to travel to a place on the coast to see her.’ Cam’s text messages had told him this; now he put it together with the thought of Lally creating this mosaic. ‘She’s going to be there tomorrow and invited me to have dinner with her. The town she’ll be in is out of the way, slow roads for some of it, but there are a lot of good beaches around that area.’

  Cam kept his mother informed of his whereabouts. She usually failed to respond to any of that information, but now and again they managed a meeting. It was usually Cam who went looking for those, though he didn’t look all that often.

  ‘That’ll be nice for you, but perhaps a bit of a strain with the trip itself.’ Lally made this comment as she absorbed her employer’s statement that he planned to see his mother. ‘You’ll take care on the roads? Not drive if you’re too tired?’

  Lally wanted the meeting to be great for Cam. She’d thought he and his mum would be close, but he’d said they didn’t see each other often. And his tone of voice as he’d said that…?

  ‘Would you like to make a combined trip of it? We can scour up and down some beaches in that area for pebbles.’ Cam’s words interrupted her thoughts. ‘I wouldn’t anticipate us being with my mother for more than a couple of hours. We could squeeze in scouring one beach, maybe, before we meet her tomorrow. Stay overnight somewhere, look at some more beaches the following day, early, then head back here? I’d really like you to do this work, Lally. If you’re willing.’

  ‘I would like to do it.’ Oh, Lally would like it very much. But an overnight stay away with him?

  She told herself this was about practicalities, about getting materials, and it was about that. He’d asked about her past, but that wasn’t relevant to this. It didn’t come into making a mosaic, or attending dinner with he and his mother. Or anything.

  ‘I think I’d really like you to meet my mother.’ Cam murmured the words and then seemed surprised by them.

  Lally was, too, and then it hit her that she would be meeting her boss’s only relative. Whether it turned out they were close or not, what would his mother think of her? Lally wanted to make a good impression.

  ‘I have to figure out what to wear,’ she blurted, and blushed with fiery heat beneath her skin. Yes, she needed to make a good impression, but only as his employee. ‘Um, I mean, I’d like to know where we’ll be meeting her. Will it be a casual sort of place, or more formal? Because I can do either, but not in that dress we bought for your research. That would be way too much.’

  As was her mega-blabbing!

  Lally closed her teeth together with a snap so no other words could rush out.

  But Cam just smiled. ‘If I know my mother, it won’t be a formal style of restaurant. Whatever we wear for wandering around on the beach will do.’

  Lally appreciated the way he said ‘we’, as though both of them had been stressing over this topic. Cameron Travers truly was a kind and generous man, one whose smile disappeared when his mother’s name was mentioned. That knowledge made Lally concerned, and a little sad, because she didn’t think she was imagining this.

  Cam said quietly, ‘It will be nice to have company while I visit Mum.’

  And just like that, he made Lally feel wanted, needed and let in; the idea of going away with him seemed totally appropriate despite anything she’d just been thinking, even while they were standing here in their bathing suits discussing it. Yes, they were covered in beach towels, too, but that was hardly the point.

  Lally wasn’t sure if she wanted to understand the point any more, to be honest. Because she had a suspicion it would end up being something to do with still being way too aware of her gorgeous boss, and now having far too many emotional connections towards him as well.

  A genuine interest in him had developed—an appreciation for his cleverness and imagination, a need to look after him. Concern about his relationship with his mother.

  But she didn’t want to let him into her personal life. Not the history part of it, anyway. Do you, Lally?

  Cameron touched her arm with his fingers, the lightest of touches. ‘So, do we have a plan? Leave first thing tomorrow morning with a couple of days’ clothes, some buckets and strong plastic bags for the pebbles?’

  ‘Yes. We have a plan.’ Lally’s skin tingled where his fingers rested against her.

  Well, tomorrow she would be stronger.

  Tomorrow she would be totally strong.

  ‘I’d best go see about what I need to pack.’ She excused herself and went inside. She wasn’t removing herself from the way of temptation—that wasn’t necessary, because Lally Douglas had her world, her attitudes, her thoughts and her feelings completely under control.

  Oh, yes, she did!

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘I MEANT to check the forecast for the next two days for this area.’ Cam made the statement as they climbed from his convertible onto an isolated stretch of beach. It was mid-afternoon.

  After the long trip, it was good to step out into such beautiful sur rounds. The beach was not ideal for swimming; the sea looked too rough for that, but there was sand, the smell of salt water, gorgeous sky and sea extending until they melded their shades of blue together on the horizon.

  Lally seemed happy, anyway. She breathed in a deep breath as they got out of the car and her face had relaxed into an expression of pleasure.

  Cam told himself not to dwell too much on that look, to think rather about the business end of this trip, such as making sure it would work for Lally. For that reason he couldn’t quite keep the self-directed disapproval from his tone as he went on, ‘I usually think of those sorts of things, but, even though I spent hours working on business and writing and that shou
ld have meant I was totally focused on all the different things on my agenda, I didn’t consider the weather.’

  He’d focused on his business matters, had prepared instructions to leave for the site boss in case he and Lally weren’t back to speak to the guy by mid-afternoon Monday and had worked on his writing. He was well on track for his deadline now.

  Perhaps Cam had overlooked the weather because he’d been trying to avoid some of his thoughts. Thoughts that had to do with whether it was wise to take Lally on this trip. He’d touched her arm after they’d been swimming last night, just touched her, and all of his senses had gone on alert again. Cam couldn’t—one hundred percent could not—allow himself to be so over whelmed by her. He had to resist desiring her.

  Cam needed to focus on professional ism where Lally was concerned. Wanting to understand her, know all about her, know her secrets—he couldn’t pursue that.

  ‘The weather looks fine. I don’t think we’ll have any problems in that respect.’ Lally spoke after casting a brief glance at the sky.

  ‘Here’s hoping you’re right. But I’m leaving the top up on the car anyway. I don’t trust coastal weather, it can change very quickly.’ Cam took two buckets from the trunk, lined them with thick plastic bags and led the way onto the beach. If he treated this time as perfectly ordinary, that was what it would become eventually—wouldn’t it?

  And he might do better if he didn’t touch her. At all. ‘Let’s see if we can find some nice, coloured pebbles and stones for your mosaic. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to help or just be the “carry person” for you. I guess that’ll depend on how specific you need your choices to be.’

  ‘At first I’ll only know what I want when I spot it, but, once I know, I don’t see why you won’t be able to find similar pebbles and stones and help gather them.’

  Lally wanted to create the mosaic for Cam, and perhaps a little for herself. Maybe her relatives were right and it was past time for her to explore her artistic ability. She shouldn’t feel that. She had no right to feel that.