He may be hot but he was also an arse. Her father certainly knew how to twist the knife, hiring a hot guy with a scowl etched into his stone face.
“I know. I can’t help feel stifled here. It’s different now. I want to do something with my life, be more than Dirk Bennett’s daughter.”
Of late, she’d been feeling more and more restless. Yet, at the same time scared. Her father was right. She was safe here on the estate. Though, it appeared, not as she’d once been.
As much as she wanted to leave all this behind, she still had her father to consider. And Quinten, Gordon and Greta. Plus, this was the one place on earth she felt close to her mother. Nowhere else held the same memories. The same hurts.
Quinten’s brows pinched together. His lips pursed with concern. He’d never heard her voice her unhappiness quite so passionately.
“You need to do whatever makes you happy.”
She wasn’t even sure what that was.
After falling into silence, she and Quinten worked side by side first with dinner, then dessert until her stomach growled impatiently. She’d been too worked up earlier to eat breakfast and had completely forgotten lunch.
“Why don’t you go call Mr. O’Neill in for dinner?”
She vehemently opposed Quinten’s suggestion. “He can get it himself.”
Just the thought of that man had her crossing her arms protectively over her chest. She knew she’d have to try and get along with him, if only for her own sake and sanity but his earlier disposition didn’t have her eagerly trying to make nice.
“That’s not like you.”
“He said he’d shoot me.”
He made a sound like a mix of a cough and a chuckle. Her mood darkened. Quinten should be on her side.
She caught movement outside the window in the growing darkness. “What do you know about him?”
Quinten served up a plate. “He’s capable.”
She didn’t doubt it. Even in the glow from the exterior gutter lights, she could see his damp shirt clinging to his torso. The strong well-defined muscles flexing with each movement. He ducked, grabbed, climbed and rolled about the ground like a dog. She hoped he got eaten alive by mosquitoes. Her gaze remained on the man she’d decided she couldn’t stand as Quinten slid her plate beneath her nose. Steam wafted from the food and hovered in the air before dissipating.
“What is he doing?”
“Checking the perimeter. Your father wants to upgrade security.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course he does.”
He already worked out of the house, pooling his many resources into securing the one location. They’d never had any trouble before. Unease settled in her stomach, tightening the knots there until the thought of eating had nausea rising.
She’d read the threats. They’d chilled her until Beth wasn’t sure she’d ever be warm again, but knowing her father didn’t trust their in-place security system had her heart pounding heavily in her chest. Her hands trembled and she tucked them under her arms to hide her obvious fear.
“I’m going to bed.” She didn’t plan on sleeping. Not this early, but hopefully there was some silly movie she could lose herself mindlessly in for the next two hours. She would prefer to read but she didn’t think she’d be able to concentrate on the words.
“You haven’t eaten.” His disapproval clear when he narrowed his eyes into slits.
“I’m not hungry.” She kissed his cheek, his face softening back to the man she adored. “But thank you. It smells delicious.”
“Good night, Miss Bennett.”
She slipped from the room. How had her day turned to crap so quickly?
Chapter 3
Declan finished his perimeter check of the estate, it had been a long walk, the area vast and was pleased to find that the security was well provisioned. The twelve-foot anti-climbing fence wrapped around the entire estate with several infra-red motion detector cameras perched along the top, each overlapping so not to leave a blind spot.
On the opposite side of the fence, the area had been cleared of trees in an effort to discourage trespassers and four feet inside the perimeter the garden had been artfully arranged to be both aesthetically pleasing and to provide privacy to the owners. From his position, he could barely see the back of the house and the hum of the pool filter was the only indication there was a pool in the vicinity. On the far side of the estate was a large fenced court that could be used as either for tennis or basketball, set up both.
He found focusing on his new role kept his mind from obsessing too much on things he couldn’t control. It would be as it was and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, no matter how hard he tried. He’d either pass or fail, his body tensing at the latter. He’d work out his next move then.
The downside was his mind then decided to replay his meeting with Bethany. He could still picture her rising from the water, droplets rolling down creamy skin, thigh muscles flexing. He’d wanted nothing more than to wrap those long legs around his waist and lose himself within her. Something that scared the shit out of him with its intensity. He hadn’t expected to react to the woman he’d been hired to protect. Every nerve in his body screamed. The picture in the file he’d been given had been a candid photo from years ago. Possibly from Caitlyn’s private collection. It bothered him she hadn’t a more up to date photo. Did it also mean the information he’d been provided may no longer be relevant?
How was he going to keep her safe? Laying down the law hadn’t gone to plan. Thinking back on it, he could see why. He’d let his feelings about the situation dictate his actions and he’d been a dick to her.
Bethany didn’t deserve his attitude. Just because he scrambled to retain his rapidly departing sense of self didn’t mean he should take it out on her. She had enough problems without adding him to the mix.
The woman was a walking nightmare who didn’t know what was good for her. Every time a smart-arse comment had left her lips, he’d wanted to pull her over his knee and give her a smack. One she wouldn’t forget in a long while. He’d almost lost his tightly held control when she’d made that crack about chaining her up. Even now the image knocked the air from his lungs. He’d never considered using his handcuffs on a woman for pleasure before but he was certainly warming to it.
He’d seen her reaction when he’d pulled her back. It would be too easy to forget his role in her life and seduce her. Something he should never do. Firstly, it would be unethical, and secondly, she was much too young and thirdly, she was Caitlyn Harris’s goddaughter. One thing he’d learned over the years is you never messed around with family or friends.
Maybe he should take a page out of his brother-in-law, Nick Doyle’s playbook. If you want to keep them at a distance pretend disinterest, or better yet treat them like your sister.
He tried to imagine Beth as his sister. She did not fit the picture. O’Neills were hot-tempered, obsessed and they never quit.
And Bennetts thought they owned everything and everyone. His desire cooled. No matter how gorgeous, she was still a spoiled brat. Despite his arrogance this afternoon, she’d acted entitled. Like his role in her life was a mere inconvenience to her. He probably wasn’t the first employee she’d played with. He wasn’t going to follow the pattern.
Declan moved speedily towards the colonial, multi-story palatial mansion, the light fading fast as the minutes ticked on by, the night-time chill descending. Whoever had originally built the house must have been one hell of a chess player. A brilliant strategist who had picked the most easily defended spot on the top of the hill, built a fortress of a house—although he had yet to test that theory but from what he could see of the south side was well guarded. A pond had been built around the foundation of the house, much like a medieval moat which protected the large glass walls of the currently empty sunroom.
Declan admitted he was impressed, though he wouldn’t have chosen peach coloured stones.
He had to remain alert and possible vulnerabilities. He w
ouldn’t need to worry about the south, whoever wanted to break in through there would have to splash about the deep pond to get to the window which would make more than enough noise to alert him. Again, he was pleased to find more motion-sensor camera with night vision attached to each corner of the house.
Tomorrow he would spend the day trying to bypass the security features without being seen. Those posing a threat wouldn’t be amateurs by a long shot and if Declan could penetrate the walls without difficulty so could they and that was unacceptable.
He closed the kitchen door behind him. A man in his late sixties, dressed in a basic black suit polished the already shiny stainless-steel bench-top. The appliances, he noted matched. Four ovens were built into the wall to the left and he couldn’t even see the fridge. He assumed it to be well hidden behind the mass of wooden doors directly in front of him. This was certainly a kitchen for entertaining. A large island, with a sink, stood centre of the large room which was easily the size of his apartment.
“Greetings sir, I am Quinten Davies, the so-called butler slash chef slash house manager. I’ve been told you’ll be staying with us for a while.”
Declan jerked his head in acknowledgment. “A jack of all trades then?”
“Yes, one might say that. I understand you’re checking our defences, sir. Is everything in order, or shall I call someone?”
“No, it’s fine, all seems well. However, the door was unlocked. Is that usual around here?”
“Usually yes. Greta, the housekeeper and I are coming and going all day and Miss Bennett moves about freely.”
Declan washed his hands in the sink. “Well from now on every door must remain locked and any maintenance personnel or such must go through me. Will you let the others know?”
“Of course.”
Leaning back against the counter, he dried his hands on the towel Davies handed him and regarded the older man. “What can I expect about Miss Bennett’s schedule? What type of transport arrangement is in place?”
“Once I acted as driver. However, she no longer leaves the property.”
Surprise had his eyebrows rising. “You’re kidding me.”
“Mr. Bennett’s rule.”
A plate clunked beside his hand, steam wafting from the roasted dish. His mouth suddenly had an abundance of moisture. This he could get used to.
Davies handed him cutlery as he sat down at one of the stools tucked beneath the overhang of the counter.
His mind replayed Davies’ words. “She’s an adult.”
“Yes, but you’ve met Mr. Bennett. He is determined to keep her safe.”
“From life?”
“Mr. Bennett guards what’s his well.”
“What about friends?”
“She has a few. A scarce few. Mostly children of her father’s associates like the Copelands.”
Declan’s jaw tightened. If he needed any more reason to keep his distance the knowledge she hung around with the likes of the Copelands clinched it. Walt Copeland had to be the dirtiest man in all of Harbour Bay who hid behind his band of lawyers who twisted the law in favour of their client.
“What does she do?”
She had to do something. He’d go stir crazy if he had nothing to do.
“She plays hostess at her father’s dinners. She can be quite charming.”
He’d yet to see it. She’d been gorgeously furious but that’s about it. He didn’t plan on getting cosy with Bethany Bennett. He was here to do a job and he’ll do it despite the complaints he was sure to get.
“Miss Bennett has lived a reclusive life, poor thing. Her father didn’t know what to do with her after her mother died.” Davies’ forehead creased. “Frankly he should have sent her off to boarding school but Mr. Bennett is very protective of his child. Too protective even, as if he can’t stand the thought of letting her go. I think he’s the only reason she still lives here. Years ago, I urged Mr. Bennett to remarry so the child had a mother but he couldn’t bear the thought of marrying another anymore than he could send his precious Bethany away.”
Well, that answered his next question—whether or not Bethany had a lover somewhere he needed to be aware of. For business reasons. He couldn’t think of one man who wouldn’t have whisked her away. After witnessing Dirk’s brilliant manipulation of Bethany earlier, just what other areas of her life did he pull the strings? Money could be a powerful motivator, but Bethany had her own money left to her by her mother which Dirk couldn’t control. If he had to guess, Declan would have said it was emotional rather than financial.
He refused to acknowledge how similar Bethany’s childhood was to his. His own mother had died young and his father had buried himself in his work, ignoring his children. But Declan had had Riley to consider, Beth was an only child. How lonely had her life been?
“Miss Beth is such a delightful young woman. I’ve never known anyone to be more engaging, more inquisitive than her.” He smiled, the motion lighting up his wrinkled face. “I remember when she was a girl of thirteen, she spent hours with me watching and learning. Now she’s quite the culinary artist herself. What that girl could’ve become if her father hadn’t kept her locked away in this gilded cage of hers.”
Gilded cage. An apt name for her situation if Davies were to be believed and he had no reason to doubt the man.
So much didn’t make sense to him.
Chapter 4
“Are we prepared for a siege?”
Declan’s heart beat faster. Should he be worried at his level of excitement at seeing Bethany again? She stared down at him with a haughty look on her face from the first floor as he took the stairs two at a time.
He cursed his stupid libido. “Good enough. I want to upgrade the locks on the house. Add a couple more deadbolts but other than that I’m impressed.”
She leaned a hip against the wall as he approached.
“Well, that right there is a stamp of approval surely, coming from you?”
“Nothing is ever secure. Trust me when I say that.”
“I do. My father only ever hires the best.”
“I’ve already told Davies, your housekeeper, and the gardener, that all external doors are to be locked—even if you’ll just be outside or inside for a minute. That is non-negotiable.”
“Something tells me nothing in your life is negotiable.”
“You’d be right about that. Your body will be safe tonight.
His gaze raked over her form, the cotton pyjamas, though not form fitting, hid little of her curves. She was a beauty. He didn’t deny it. Inside, however, was another manner. A curious blend of fire and ice. He enjoyed her attitude, the sparring between them entertaining.
And while her obeying his commands made his job easier, her weakness irritated him. She should be out there enjoying her life. Not allowing herself to be imprisoned in this house.
What grown woman allowed her father to dictate her life?
It didn’t matter. He’d be gone in a few weeks then she would be someone else’s problem.
And yet, he cared. He’d come expecting a spoiled brat and while she could fit into that category she was much more. He was so screwed. He forced himself to be indifferent.
Her gaze studied him. “You don’t like me.”
“I don’t care about you one way or the other. So long as you’re breathing when I leave.”
Shit that sounded harsh. Exactly as he’d intended but damn did it make him feel like a bastard.
“I see. Have you thought of another line of business, Mr. O’Neill? Your bedside manner is a lot to be desired.”
He stepped closer. Her breath fanned over his skin. “I’ve never had any complaints before.”
She swallowed before her eyes hardened. Anticipation licked across his skin as he waited for her singeing attack. Disappointment filled him when she stepped away. Backed down. He wasn’t sure why he wanted her to snap. Maybe to see the fire she’d briefly displayed earlier.
“I see. So, it is me. I guess first impressi
ons truly do last.”
If that were true. He was never getting the image of her sleek, wet body rising from the water out of his mind.
“And I can imagine what you’re thinking.”
He doubted it. His mind had gone to the basics. Sex. He may not like her but his body responded to her nonetheless. He’d never experienced lust and annoyance at the same time.
“I can’t blame you though. My behaviour was abhorrent. Childish. What one may expect from a princess.”
“If you’re looking for an apology…”
“I’ll look elsewhere. I don’t expect someone who threatens his charge with a bullet to have a soft touch.”
“I may have been out of line.”
She laughed. The sound musical in the open space. “May have?”
“I’m used to issuing orders to those I know will follow them without question. I don’t have the patience to deal with people too stupid to know what’s best for them.”
Her back straightened. “You know nothing about me.”
“I know you’ve allowed your father to make decisions on your behalf. At some point, Princess you have to grow up and leave the castle.”
Her jaw clenched, her eyes sparkling with anger. “If you despise me so much, why take this job? Why don’t you just leave?”
“Because Caitlyn Harris asked me to.”
Lush lips parted as she blinked. She hadn’t been expecting him to say that.
“Why would Aunt Cait ask you to protect me?” Her gaze ran over him in an unflattering way. She’d obviously made up her mind about his abilities. He didn’t blame her. He’d been a complete and utter arse. His dislike for his role souring his words.
“I didn’t have anything better to do. Goodnight, Princess.”
He smirked at the thunderous expression gracing her face. Yeah, he’d probably just made an enemy but he couldn’t help feeling more alive tonight than he had in some time.
When he closed the door to the room he’d been assigned, a short distance from Bethany’s, he called James Hawke, a detective and colleague. He’d only known the man for a few months so it was too early to call them friends but he sensed they were heading in that direction. Hawke answered within two rings.
Gilded Cage (Harbour Bay Book 6) Page 2
