by Margaret Way
Mary had somehow drifted out of his life. And then he’d put Callie into his aunt’s hands.
He should have checked on Mary more often—made the effort to come out here before now. Should maybe have checked on Callie in person, too, once she was here.
He’d been certain Mary would look after Callie, and it had seemed better for him to stay away.
Gideon gestured to the coastal track ahead. ‘The guest house is only a couple of minutes’ walk from here, Heather. Once I’ve spoken with Mary and…Callandra, I’ll show you around so you can get a feel for the work you’ll be doing here.’
Gideon had a wedding to attend—his aunt’s. It might be nice to know something about the groom before then! And he had a new manager to instal in his aunt’s island guest house—the woman now standing at his side, glancing around her in proprietorial fashion.
And Gideon had Callandra Humbold to sort out, too. Just to be sure Callie had a secure future ahead of her. He owed Reid’s memory that much at least.
‘It’s not a very large island, is it?’ The woman he’d chosen to replace his aunt Mary fell into step beside him.
A brisk wind battered at them, whipped Heather’s shoulder-length brown hair about her narrow, intense face. It was February—the end of summer. Not cold here, but blustery.
Heather went on. ‘I don’t imagine there’s much in the way of entertainment, but I can tolerate such conditions for the sake of furthering my career.’
‘Yes…’ Gideon wasn’t really listening. His attention was fixed ahead, beyond the wild shore to the left, beyond the wild battered trees and shrubs to the right, to the guest house perched on a rise.
For all that the place hadn’t made a profit for years, it appeared Mary had finally used some of his generous allowance to keep it in good order. He would put things on a better business footing now he had a non-family member to place into the management role, of course.
A figure dressed in green dungarees and a bright orange T-shirt, with a ponytail of matching orange hair, emerged from a shed carrying a bucket. She had a purposeful expression on her pixie face and she glowed with energy and vitality.
It was Callandra. But not the young girl he remembered. There was maturity in her face that hadn’t been there seven years ago—a womanliness about her that was unmistakable. She’d grown up. He’d known she would have, but somehow seeing the evidence of that…
Callie scrunched up her face and examined the contents of the bucket in her hand before she squared her shoulders and started along the path. A memory of her face tipped up, the freckles across the bridge of her nose standing out as she glared at him, flashed through Gideon’s mind and for a moment froze him to the spot. God, they’d had some arguments.
And then they’d stopped arguing, and somehow there’d been that night that had led to him shipping Callie out to Mary…
Not relevant, Deveraux. But he did have to talk to Callie. He had to at least know what her plans were for the future—that she had plans and wasn’t going to be left out on a limb by Mary marrying and moving away from the island.
Gideon could ensure Callie employment here, of course. But under his new management she wouldn’t have the freedom for long walks on the beach and the other activities that seemed to be all Mary had to tell him about Callie when he did occasionally phone in to check on her.
His aunt could be vague. Indeed, Mary hadn’t even asked Gideon to provide a replacement manager here, or mentioned Callie’s future.
Gideon felt an odd stab of something in the centre of his chest that might have been guilt. For sending Callie away seven years ago, and for pushing her to the back of his mind so thoroughly once he’d done that.
‘That’s your ward?’
‘She was, unofficially, when she was younger—yes.’ How much had Callie changed? She’d been full of inexplicable dreams and notions back then. Did she still have that wide-eyed outlook on life that he’d found so touching, even when it had driven him mad?
‘Would you excuse me, Heather?’ Gideon wanted to catch Callandra before she got too far away. ‘Perhaps you’d like to take a look at the grounds for a few minutes while I speak with my—with Callie.’
The woman at his side nodded her agreement.
Gideon fixed his gaze on a retreating back with a set of slender shoulders, the bucket swinging wildly from her hand and wisps of carroty hair escaping the bobbing ponytail, and picked up his pace.
Crab whispering might be an unconventional pastime, but it was popular with the guests. If Callie Humbold wanted to continue the fine tradition of her midnight crab whispering tours once this weekend was over, she needed to keep her exoskeleton friends happy between now and then.
Which meant drawing them out to feed them, whether the guest house was abuzz with pre-wedding activity or not. Callie hefted the bucket with renewed determination.
‘Callandra? Will you hold up a moment? I’d like to talk to you.’
The words, spoken in a firm, masculine, oh-so-familiar tone brought her to a standstill while her heart did all sorts of unwelcome flip-flops in her chest.
‘You didn’t reply to your invitation,’ she said with a snap.
Great, Callie. Start with an accusation and the conversation can deteriorate from there.
Why did he always manage to make her feel either defensive or offensive? Never anything in between?
Oh? Could that be because he was always putting you on the defensive? Or, more to the point, because the last time you saw him you were deeply embarrassed because you’d naïvely tried to seduce him and he had just wanted you gone before his fiancée got there?
Yes, the whole episode had hugely embarrassed her—especially Gideon trying to gently push her away…
But that had been seven years ago. Surely he’d have forgotten all about it in the intervening time?
‘I—Mary didn’t think you were coming.’ Callie swung around, bucket and all, to face the man who’d banished her to his aunt’s island after that episode. He’d gone on to get married. And, yes, Callie had been hurt about that.
A little. Barely at all, really. And only because she’d been young and naïve and hadn’t understood how he could want only the right social ties, someone to look good on his arm, in a way Callie, with her lack of any kind of social anything, never could have done. He hadn’t wanted love. That had been the most inexplicable part to her. And she’d come so close to offering it to him. Well, in a young girl ‘crush’ sense.
The worldly prince and the foolish gardener’s niece? It might cut it as a fairy tale, but not as reality.
Callie drew a deep breath and schooled her face to show nothing of those thoughts. They were old news anyway.
‘I wasn’t expecting you.’ Good. That was good. It covered her unguarded initial response. ‘That is, Mary and I weren’t expecting you—but I’m sure Mary will be very pleased you’ve come for her wedding. She’s not here right now, but I’m expecting her back later today.’
‘I only got the invitation yesterday.’ He wrapped long, lean fingers around slender male hips. Elbows out, strong chin tipped upwards, dark blue eyes watching her through dusky lashes. ‘I’ve been overseas on business.’
‘Speaking with your Italian art buyer.’ Callie nodded her head before she could stop herself.
When he simply looked askance at her, Callie felt compelled to explain.
‘The last time you phoned you told Mary that was what you might be doing.’ Callie didn’t hang on every piece of information about Gideon. Mary just liked to tell her the news. That was all.
‘The worldwide galleries are proving to be an enjoyable enterprise,’ Gideon said, as though they were simply one more means of occupying himself and investing his billions.
And no doubt that was exactly the case.
Callie looked up into his face. Gideon stood at six foot two inches tall. He had an entire head and most of his shoulders on her in height. His jet-black hair was a little longer than she remembere
d. His face, if anything, looked even more attractive than it had. The fine lines at the corners of his eyes added character, and somehow that character reflected his strength as a man.
So—fine. He was a man, and he was powerful, wealthy and influential. A man women would swoon over, and did.
Callie was equally as strong as him. The twists and turns of her life had left her with no choice but to be that way. Gideon sending her to Mary had simply been more of the same, and she certainly wasn’t about to swoon over him right now.
Been there, done that. Had the embarrassment and rejection to prove it.
She’d been immature at the time—hadn’t understood. She’d misread brotherly affection for desire and, worse, for love.
The desire she’d had a taste of, when he’d reacted without thinking. Before he’d remembered who he was with. The rest didn’t even count, anyway.
Callie tipped up her chin. ‘At least you’re here. Your parents weren’t “available” to attend the wedding, so you’re it for Mary’s family. It’s a shame she won’t be here very long to enjoy you. She and Mac leave for their honeymoon straight after the wedding tomorrow.’
‘Where does that leave you?’
He seemed concerned about her answer. Yet it was an odd kind of question, wasn’t it?
‘It leaves me right here. Life as usual. Surely Mary mentioned that in her invitation?’
‘My aunt didn’t even manage to mention the name of her prospective groom.’ Gideon chopped a hand through the air. ‘Are you saying you’re happy to remain here, working under the new guest house manager?’
What did he mean, the new guest house manager? ‘I’ll be the guest house manager.’
It had been her role for the past five years. Callie had no desire to change that now. And as for Mary omitting Mac’s name from the invitation—there was only one reason Gideon’s aunt would have done that.
Actually, there are forty-seven reasons, and they’re all booked into the guest house for the weekend. But Mac has been completely open about all of it, and provided we keep the wedding private there won’t be any problem. The family’s really quite tame these days, anyway, apparently…
‘Mac and Mary plan to live a low-key life after this. Very low key.’
As in totally out of the limelight and unnoticed.
Gideon nodded, though his expression suggested he wasn’t entirely sure of the reason for her vigorous statement.
‘I guess that’s up to them. But about your future…’ Gideon’s brows drew down. ‘Do we have our wires crossed somehow? Do you mean you plan to assist the new manager?’
‘I mean I’ve been doing the job—’
A woman strolled through the gardens beyond Gideon. Quite a way back, because Callie had been halfway along the track that led to the cove by the time Gideon hailed her.
The new manager Gideon had mentioned? He’d already made his plans and now intended simply to put them in motion?
For the first time concern filtered through other emotions and got a chokehold on Callie.
Gideon could do that—get rid of her and replace her with someone else. He owned the entire island and everything on it. Callie had just assumed he’d allow her to go on running the guest house. She’d been doing a good job of it, turning better and better profits each year. She didn’t want to leave.
Panic threatened. Callie tried to ignore it.
‘When will my aunt be back?’ Gideon rammed a hand through his hair. ‘Soon, I hope? It appears I need to speak with her, about a few things.’
Yes. Mac and the family and the wedding. Callie suppressed a sigh.
Gideon started to stride back towards the guest house.
Callie wanted to keep him away from there, to wait until Mary returned and leave his aunt to sort all that out with him. But she didn’t have the luxury of choice. And if they were going in, she wanted to get her words in about her job first.
‘I don’t want to leave your replacement manager jobless, Gideon, but I’ve had the role of manager here for five years. I’ve done well in it, and the guest house is more profitable than it’s been for years. You can’t simply push me out of the role.’ Well, he could, but… ‘There are fair and reasonable rules about that sort of thing.’
That was what mattered right now—ensuring her job was secure. Not memories of the past.
Yet Gideon’s gaze had swung to hers, and amongst the confusion in his eyes was the memory she had thought he might not have held onto. Of that night when she’d gone to his detached apartment on the family estate and they’d kissed. Her young heart had been on her sleeve until Dianna had arrived and Gideon hadn’t been able to get rid of Callie fast enough.
She hadn’t known Dianna even existed as anything more than a contact in Gideon’s wide circle of glitzy, upper-class associates. It showed her naïveté at that time that she would have assumed he wasn’t with someone.
‘Mary has always been the guest house manager.’ Gideon stated this with a frown on his face as shields came down over his eyes, hiding his thoughts from her as he’d finally hidden them that night.
‘Your aunt trained me into the position.’
Callie pushed the thoughts of the past away as best she could. It wasn’t easy. Not when that brief expression in Gideon’s eyes had stirred both memories and senses. Oh, how she hated that it was so!
‘I know the work. Your aunt has taught me the business from the ground up. I’ve taken that knowledge and developed my skills further to make the guest house the most profitable and viable it’s been in all the time Mary’s had it. I achieved that, Gideon. And I want to remain here and continue in the role of guest house manager.’
What she didn’t want was to revisit the past. Not in her thinking, and certainly not in a stirring of old awareness.
Her words had shocked him. That fact was in his eyes.
‘But I’ve been propping the business up financially for years,’ he said slowly.
‘Apparently you’ve thought that to be the case, but in fact that ‘prop-up’ money is untouched. Your finance manager should have told you.’ Callie hefted the bucket in her hands. ‘Now I really have to do this job at the cove. If you’ll excuse me…’
Maybe if she walked away, took care of her small task and came back, everything would have miraculously fixed itself. Callie sighed.
‘I’ll come with you.’ He eased the bucket from her hands, glanced into it.
‘There’s no need. I can do this myself.’ She didn’t want to end up explaining her crab whispering to Gideon on top of all the other issues she had to face with him right now. Good manager material would not conduct midnight crab whisperer tours—but they worked for her, and they worked for the guest house’s clientele.
Callie reached for the bucket to take it back and go on her way, ignoring the fact he would still be here when she returned from feeding her ‘pets’. She needed just a few minutes’ break—a chance to regroup.
‘Why don’t you and your…guest check in while I do this? You’re lucky. Rooms twelve and eighteen are still available. They’re the only ones we have left.’ What else could she do but invite both of them to stay? ‘Take the keys for those and I’ll talk to you later—’
Instead of the bucket handle, her fingers had closed over Gideon’s hand. That contact—that simple, ordinary, shouldn’t-have-done-a-thing-to-her contact—sent twinges through her that shouldn’t exist.
They had to be echo twinges. Past twinges. Seven years ago twinges. They were not current twinges, because she was not going there again with that old silliness about him. It had been a crush!
‘Really, Gideon. Thanks for the offer, but I need to do this by myself.’
Callie wasn’t cutting and running. She simply needed to go and do this. By herself. Just for a few minutes before she came back and faced introducing him to MacKay and his family. Before she met the woman he’d brought to the island to replace her as manager of her beloved guest house.
Well, Calli
e wasn’t giving up that position.
She regained ownership of the bucket and stomped away along the path.
CHAPTER TWO
GIDEON gave Callie the space she so clearly wanted. While he did so, he used his mobile phone to contact his finance manager. What he learned from the man was still in his mind as Callie rinsed out her bucket, stored it in the shed beside the guest house and rather reluctantly moved towards him and Heather, where they stood several feet from the guest house’s open front doors.
Gideon finished his second phone call and turned to the woman who had travelled to the island with him.
‘Heather, I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding about this position.’ Gideon quietly explained the situation. ‘Callandra has been running the guest house herself for several years now. I didn’t realise that, and I’m assured she’s been doing a very good job. I can’t let her go in these circumstances.’
He took a deep breath. ‘I’ve recalled our boat. My skipper will have it here within the hour, so you can return to Melbourne with him. You’ll be reimbursed for your time, and I’ll arrange a meeting with you once I’m back in Melbourne myself. We’ll sort out an alternative position for you.’
‘Something as good as this? With the advantages of being on an island and autonomous as manager—?’ The woman cut her words off, but it was clear she wasn’t happy. Her gaze narrowed, and a hard expression crossed her face before she masked it behind a blank smile. ‘Well, I’ll hold you to that discussion.’
Callie joined them then, and he made the introductions. ‘Callandra, this is Heather Stiller. Heather, meet Callandra Humbold.’
‘I won’t be staying.’ Heather bent to retrieve her travel bag. ‘In fact, I think I’d prefer to wait at the jetty—if you’ll both excuse me?’
She walked away purposefully and had her mobile phone at her ear before she was halfway gone. Calling a friend to complain about her treatment, perhaps?
