by J. M. Madden
“What’s wrong?” Clayton was eyeing her sharply.
“I’ll have to put my pup in the boarding kennel,” she told him quietly. “She certainly can’t come here. Not with all these antiques and the wood floors.”
Rising to his feet, he gestured for her to follow him. He had foreseen this eventuality and he was gratified to have a remedy at hand.
*
In her stocking feet, shoes in hand, Sarah followed him through the monstrous house, out of the sitting room, through a formal living room, down the long wood paneled hallway and into a kitchen that absolutely made her drool. Black granite countertops seemed to stretch for miles, and restaurant grade appliances were everywhere. There was a beautiful stainless steel range with three ovens and what looked like a second Viking range across the way from two huge Sub-Zero refrigerators. The cupboards were a dark, distinctive cherry and gleamed. Sarah could not have planned a dream kitchen any better than this. Cooking was an absolute passion with her, and she sometimes had dinner parties just so she could cook for somebody other than herself and Grace. Her weakness though, was dessert, particularly chocolate. Chocolate toffee chip cookies with walnuts were her absolute favorite, and she always had a supply in the Tupperware bowl on her counter at home. She had to admit it was her own fault she was so…voluptuous.
An older woman with graying hair pulled into a tight bun backed out of what Sarah thought was a pantry in the far corner of the room carrying a sack of potatoes. When she turned and noticed Clayton standing there she gave a gasp and almost dropped the potatoes. “Oh, Mr. Gallagher, you startled me.” The older woman hoisted the sack onto one of the counters and straightened her gray uniform dress. “Can I make you something, sir?” She folded her hands patiently in front of her.
Sarah watched as he shook his head and tipped it her way. “This is Sarah Tyler. She will be our special guest for a while. Would you have Marianne ready a room for her?” Turning to Sarah, he introduced the older woman. “This is Faust. Anything you need at all, come to her or William, the butler. They run the house.”
Sarah reached out and shook Faust’s hand, smiling warmly, but the woman pulled her hand back as quickly as was polite and turned away. “I’ll see to the room, Mr. Gallagher.”
And she disappeared.
Frowning, Sarah turned back to Mr. Gallagher, who didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Swinging away, he gave her his broad, suit clad back. “Follow me.”
Sarah raised a brow at the order, but decided she better follow him because he wasn’t waiting. So she walked down a back hallway, then out a door and underneath a covered walkway, which apparently led to a garage. She had just enough time to scope out the boss’s behind when her attention was caught by the garage. All of the huge oak doors were closed except the one on the end, which housed a gleaming, gorgeous deep blue Lamborghini Aventador. She had to stop and stare. What a spectacular piece of machinery. In her little town of Freeport, she had been lucky to see anything other than a four-wheel drive farm truck. Only when she came to the city was she able to feed her artistic side by ogling foreign machinery. Lamborghinis were a secret passion of hers and she knew that beautiful color was Blu Hera, her favorite.
“Oh my.” Propping her shoe-laden hands on her hips, she cocked out a leg and sighed. “Wow.”
Gallagher had paused when she had, and now tucked his hands into his pants pockets, waiting. Sarah was not sure which was the better eye candy, the man or the machine. The man, definitely, she decided. Smiling directly at him, she told him, “Very nice.”
*
Clayton frowned yet again as he eyed the woman a few feet away from him. He found himself doing that a lot lately, frowning. Normally, nothing rattled him but he could not seem to control himself the way he needed to around her. Everything seemed more important with her. Right now he found he wanted to grin as he watched her admiring his new car. Then she turned her gaze to him, and he found he wanted to grin again for a totally different reason. She seemed as interested in him as he was in her. He turned away to keep his emotions hidden and continued on around the side of the garage. He knew that this apparently mutual interest could not go anywhere but he allowed himself a small smile at the thought of them together. He contemplated canceling the whole potential fiasco, because Sarah would unwittingly land in the middle of an impossible situation. Clayton wanted her nearby, yet he was not sure that he could proceed with anything between them. Undoubtedly though, if he sent her away, this fascination would continue to fester. Better to get it out of his system now; a year and a half was more than long enough to dream about such a ridiculous thing. There was no way she could be the woman he needed her to be.
Honestly, he’d begun to regret not taking her up on her friendship offer earlier.
Leading her down a path and through a neatly trimmed box hedge, Clayton stopped at the edge of a newly built fenced area. It used to be a paddock for horses, but they hadn’t had horses in years. Now, there was a huge, handmade doghouse inside big enough for even her dog on the shady side of the large, grassy enclosure. The damn thing could run itself into the ground if it wanted to.
Hearing a gasp, he turned and found Sarah with a hand to her mouth. Even as he watched, her eyes filled with tears. Glimmering, bright green eyes shone up at him. “Oh, my. You did this for me and my dog?” She was fingering the freshly mounted plank posts. The fence surrounding the dog park was four planks tall and stained a deep cedar to match the wood accents in the garden beyond.
Clayton scowled, second-guessing himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have done this. He should have just made her take the dog to the kennel, but he had seen in the pictures from the background check how much she cared for the dog and he’d worried that she would not take the job if she could not bring the beast. So he’d eased his own mind and had the pen built months ago. It had taken him this long to build up his courage to approach her with the contract, and now she was overwhelming him with emotion, hers and those unfamiliar feelings she stirred in him as well.
But, even as those feelings threatened to swamp him, a part of him relished what she was stirring in him because it had been so long since he’d felt anything. More and more, he had noted how… regimented and sterile his life had become, and it disturbed him. The prospect of his niece leaving soon had also been nagging at him like a sore tooth.
Looking back at her brimming eyes, he bowed his head to her slightly. “Yes, I had the kennel built. It was a business decision. Now you don’t have to worry and run into the city all the time to check on her.” Clayton didn’t like the way Sarah was looking at him, with a gently knowing smile lifting her full lips. The excuse was incredibly flimsy and they both knew it.
With her eyes shining, she also tipped her head. “Thank you,” she said softly, sweetly.
Sarah left soon after that, telling him she needed to make some arrangements for her apartment to be checked and her plants watered every once in a while. Clayton gave her his business card with all his numbers on it, and told her to call when she was ready and the car would be there to help her with her luggage.
Standing at the door, watching her drive away, Clayton felt like the day had dimmed. Frustrated, he turned and trudged up the stairs to his office. Until she returned, he had a feeling he would be watching the clock, and he scowled. At work, in his world, people waited on him. He didn’t like being on the other side of that equation, not one bit.
Chapter Three
‡
It took Sarah a full day to pack her things and get the dog ready. She tried to call Mr. Gallagher but got sent right to voice mail, so she just left a message that she would be arriving the next morning. Grace actually took longer to get ready than she did. The mastiff puppy was eleven months old, but already weighed over a hundred and thirty pounds. Gracie had no idea how big she was though, and refused to believe she had outgrown Sarah’s lap. When Sarah would get after her, she would turn those melting, whiskey colored eyes to her, and Sarah’s heart would melt. G
racie knew it, too, the big stinker.
Right now, Sarah was going through about fifty pounds of dog food in two and a half weeks. It would be worse when the dog grew to her full size and Gracie was a very healthy dog.
Sarah decided to just pack everything she was taking with her into her Jeep Grand Cherokee. She didn’t know what kind of driver Mr. Gallagher had, but she was fairly certain he probably would not want to clean dog slobber off his leather limo seats. Now that she was taking her own vehicle, she felt a little better about the job. If an unpleasant situation did arise¸ she would not be dependent on the gallantry of her host for escape. If she wanted to get out of the house, or if she had to, it wouldn’t be a big deal.
The portable easel did not take up a lot of room, and she threw all of her paints and sketching materials into an artist’s box. She also packed several canvases of several different sizes that she’d stretched and had ready to go. Mr. Gallagher did not tell her exactly how big he wanted the portrait to be, but judging by the other portraits that had been on the wall, he probably wanted it to be large. And last but not least, her suitcase, filled with an assortment of everything; predominantly jeans and tops, painting clothes, but also several dressier outfits that she hoped were “dinner worthy”. The Jeep was practically bursting by the time she was ready to go.
Sarah called Clayton Gallagher’s cell phone on her way north to I95 and onward to Connecticut, but he did not answer, so she left another message. It was Sunday; she supposed that he was allowed to not answer his business phone on a Sunday.
Sarah arrived at Hillcroft House just after noon. The voice on the intercom in the driveway box sounded like William, the butler. The huge, black iron gates swung open for her and Sarah slowly made her way up the drive. William was there to greet her. He was visibly taken aback when Sarah urged Gracie out of the back of the Jeep, but when she introduced him to a very well behaved Gracie, a quizzical smile crossed the butler’s face. He reached out to pat the big dog’s side.
“I have to say, miss, I have never seen a dog as large as this,” he paused, “although when I was a child we did have a St. Bernard.”
Sarah beamed, happy to talk about her best friend with somebody who had some appreciation. Five minutes later, Sarah and William were still talking in the driveway with Gracie lying at their feet, panting in the late spring sun, when a black Mercedes stretch limousine pulled up. The driver hopped out and jogged around to the back door on their side, reaching in to help a woman alight from the car.
The woman who appeared was absolutely beautiful, in a classic Grace Kelly type of way. Her hair was sculpted and perfectly blond and Sarah had a feeling it was not the work of a colorist, but good genetics. Large, round-lensed dark glasses covered her eyes, and set off her classic icy pink Chanel suit to perfection. For a moment, Sarah felt incredibly dowdy in her jeans and red polo shirt with her dog lying at, no, on her feet, but she squared her shoulders and moved to meet the woman. This had to be Mrs. Gallagher.
Mrs. Gallagher did not acknowledge her until she was almost past Sarah and to the marble steps. Sarah felt the weight of her stare from several feet away, but determinedly held out her hand. No matter how bad this woman sounded, she was going to try to get along with her.
“What on earth is that?!”
Sarah realized the woman was looking past her to the huge dog, and offered an explanation, dropping her hand.
“That is my dog, ma’am, Grace.”
She looked at Sarah as if she were stunned, with her lipsticked mouth slightly agape. “What is it doing here?”
“Your son invited me to be a guest here while I complete a contract and he said I could bring my dog with me.”
The woman turned on Sarah with a snarl that completely ruined her beautiful face. “My son is dead. If you mean Clayton, he had no right to invite you into my home with a dog.”
The dog in question had climbed to her feet and advanced to the two women, knowing she was being talked about. Before Sarah could grab her, she had done her normal greeting, sniffing at the person at nose level, leaving behind long, stringy lines of slobber. The woman jumped back in dismay and gave a very unladylike cry of outrage.
“Get that animal under control.” She pointed a clawed finger at Grace, who had settled back at Sarah’s feet with a lazy yawn. Sarah had a hand over her mouth in horror at Grace’s faux pas, but also found she wanted to laugh, as inappropriate as that was. The irate woman turned and stormed up the marble steps, where William waited. As she reached the top, Mr. Gallagher appeared from the interior of the house. His mother raised a shaking hand to her forehead, feigning frailness, then straightened her spine and boldly confronted her son.
“I don’t know what you were thinking, Clayton, but that woman and her dog have to go. What on earth are they doing here?”
Mr. Gallagher faced his stepmother as stone faced as always, but Sarah could see he was very tense and did not like being harangued.
“I have commissioned Ms. Tyler to paint a portrait of Victoria.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. Sarah noticed he was wearing casual pants, but still had a long sleeved button down shirt on. At least he got out of the suit once in a while.
Mr. Gallagher’s mother still glared at him. “Why didn’t you inform me?”
“I did, Mother. If you would check your voicemail, you would know what was going on.”
She waved a delicate hand. “I can’t be bothered to check it every day. It’s difficult to get into.”
“Then answer the phone when I call you.” Biting off an exasperated sigh, Mr. Gallagher pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes, as if his head ached. Sarah’s soft heart went out to him. Mrs. Gallagher, on the other hand, apparently took this is a sign of weakness, and she pounced.
“I can see you are having second thoughts about this, Clayton. Get rid of that woman and her dog. That will make everybody happy and we can put this behind us.” The woman brushed past him as if the issue was settled, but Mr. Gallagher snagged her arm.
“I’m sorry, Mother, but you will have to get used to Ms. Tyler being here. And her dog. I’m having Victoria’s portrait done before she leaves for Switzerland.”
Mrs. Gallagher gasped her outrage. “I can’t believe you are ignoring my wishes. This is my house!”
Mr. Gallagher let go of her arm and his eyes went glacial. “Actually, Mother, it’s my house, remember?”
Sarah watched as a wave of red crawled up Mrs. Gallagher’s pale neck and face, and knew it was not humiliation, but anger. For the second time in five minutes, the woman let out a frustrated scream and stormed into the house. Sarah felt bad that there was turmoil because of her, but also was exceptionally glad that Mr. Gallagher had stood up for her being there.
Watching as Mr. Gallagher walked very precisely down the steps to her, Sarah was struck with the almost overwhelming urge to kiss him hello, and run her fingers through his neatly combed hair. You’re getting ahead of yourself, girl. He hasn’t even told you to call him by his first name yet.
Smiling, Sarah grabbed onto Gracie’s collar so the dog couldn’t muss his clothes.
Mr. Gallagher did not return her smile. Actually, his brows were furrowed into a heavy frown. “Ms. Tyler. I expected you back yesterday. I was somewhat concerned.”
Sarah’s heart pounded. Okay, he’s irritated and concerned. It’s a start.
“I’m sorry. I had to arrange for somebody to keep an eye on my apartment, and my friend Jack was out of the city until late last night. He’s the one who usually watches it when I go somewhere. I couldn’t reach him on his phone, so I just waited until this morning to catch up with him. Then I packed everything up and hit the road.”
Turning his gaze to Grace, he surveyed her up and down, then turned to Sarah and did the same.
“Not to touch on a sensitive subject,” she continued gently, “but I did leave you a voice mail last night and again this morning.” Sarah was entranced as a slow wash of color worked up hi
s neck, making him look endearingly awkward. Oh my, he really is going to make me fall in love with him. Her heart pounded with awareness.
Clearing his throat and glancing out at the grounds, Mr. Gallagher shoved his hands agitatedly into his pockets. “I must apologize, Ms. Tyler. Mother and I don’t usually make such a scene. I should have tried harder to contact her; she has a tendency to avoid speaking to me on the phone. And I should have been more attentive to my own messages, I apologize.”
Sarah nodded her head understandingly. “That’s okay. All families have spats every once in a while. No need to apologize.” She smiled winningly at him. “And you can call me Sarah, you know. We are going to be here together for some time. It seems a little silly for you to call me Ms. Tyler all the time.”
“Thank you, Sarah.” But curiously, he did not reciprocate the offer.
Mentally shrugging her shoulders, Sarah pulled Gracie over to the open rear of the Jeep and fastened the leash onto her collar. Dragging out the laundry basket containing all of Gracie’s paraphernalia, Sarah propped it on her hip to grab the wool lined dog pad a little further inside the Jeep. She felt the weight of the basket leave her hip, and turned in surprise to Mr. Gallagher, but he was looking down into the basket. Heavy dark brows lowered as he surveyed the contents.
“A basketball?” he sounded puzzled.
Sarah shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “It was the only thing I could find that she didn’t puncture with her teeth in the first thirty seconds. It seems like everything in the stores is too flimsy for Grace. That’s why the little lawn tractor tire is in there, as well. She loves chasing that thing, but I feel ridiculous walking down the street to the park carrying it.”
Leaning over and reaching in, Sarah dragged the body-sized dog pad out. When she turned, Mr. Gallagher jerked his guilty eyes up off her ass. When his gaze met hers, there was a burning intensity in them that took her by surprise. Why would he be looking at her like that? Any time she saw him in the papers, he was always with a beautiful blonde twig and hardly ever the same woman more than once. Other than that one lingering look when she first met him, he had not expressed any interest in her. Even when she hinted that there could possibly be more, he had shut her down immediately. Not in a mean way, but quick enough that there was little doubt in her mind that he meant what he said. That peek at her ass hinted that perhaps there was some interest there, after all. Sarah was painfully aware of how obvious her interest in him was but she found she couldn’t help herself. She had been fantasizing about her elusive boss for nearly a year and a half and darn it, she planned to satisfy her curiosity.
