Isabel wasn’t loud, or boisterous, or bothersome, but each time he tried to write, his mind wandered. Her mere presence in the house veered him off task. He didn’t like the idea of someone looking through his personal things or snooping all over the house. Derek was just waiting to be interrupted, as if at any moment, a knock would sound on the door and he’d be ripped away from the project he was focusing on.
Derek lifted the mug off his desk and absently took a sip of coffee that had gone cold hours ago. Perhaps this week didn’t have to be a total loss. He was sure Izzy had a family she wanted to spend the holidays with, too. He could pay her for the two weeks and send her on her way. The temp agency would never know the difference, and if they called, he’d simply say she’d been great and fulfilled her contract. Then he’d be able to focus on his work entirely, and she could do whatever she wanted to for the holidays with a pocket full of cash. It was the perfect plan, and he was sure she wouldn’t object. Who would?
He glanced at the time on his computer. It was nearly seven. The chair scraped against the glossy wood floors as he stood up and went to seek her out. Atticus would be the only one disappointed with the plan, as he seemed to have a new friend.
As he walked down the steps, the aromas of garlic and cheese peppered the air and made his stomach grumble. He found her in the kitchen, standing over a bubbling pot of water and a sizzling skillet. Atticus lay at her feet and lazily wagged his tail when he saw Derek enter the room.
“Excuse me, Izzy?”
She whipped around with the serving spoon she was holding and cream sauce splashed on his face.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” A pink blush rose high on her cheeks. She grabbed a towel from the countertop and came up close to wipe it off his face. Her warm, sweet scent made him tense. Her touch was gentle, like a doting mother—something he hated to think about. It had been a long time since he’d been around a woman. He’d casually dated here and there, but he would never entertain the idea of marriage—not after what had happened between his mother and father. She looked up at him with eyes full of apology.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered again. “Did I burn you?” Izzy looked at the floor, then back at him. Her long hair had fallen forward, masking some of her face.
“It was just a little sauce. I’m all right.” The hot sauce had been momentarily unpleasant, but he’d survive.
Izzy stepped back to put the towel in the sink, and he released the breath he’d been holding. Something about her made him uneasy. Perhaps it was her natural, girl-next-door looks. Her face was fresh and free of makeup, nothing hidden by powders or creams. Just wide eyes fringed with thick lashes and a natural blush from nerves. Izzy turned back to the stove and lifted the pot of pasta off the burner. She filled out the trousers she wore quite nicely, despite her petite frame.
“Let me help you with that,” he said, taking the strainer and holding it over the sink.
She dumped the pasta in, and he shook the water out a bit before spilling it back into the pot.
“Thanks. You can go sit down and relax. This is my job.” Izzy briskly moved past him to the stove and poured the thick sauce over the noodles.
Great. Why did she have to take her duties so seriously? Hopefully, the lure of the holidays would be enough to send her on her way.
“You didn’t have to make me something so elaborate. A sandwich would have been fine.” He was trying to be cordial, but he just sounded ungrateful and pissy. Derek wasn’t good at this sort of thing. He paid his full-time staff generously in part so they wouldn’t leave. They’d developed a nice comfort level, and he was at ease with them. If he didn’t want dinner, he’d just say so. Of course, neither of his staff looked like Izzy, either.
“Trust me, you’ll prefer this to a sandwich.” If she was annoyed with him, it didn’t show. The smile that curved her lips illuminated her whole face, giving her skin an ethereal glow. He needed to get out more often. His tongue was tied up like balloon strings on a windy day. He backed out of the room and went to sit at the table. He hated feeling uncomfortable in his own home. If he were alone, he would have microwaved a can of soup or popped a frozen pizza into the oven at midnight after he’d finished his work. Now he was stuck at the formal dinner table, unsure if he should offer his help with the meal or just keep his trap shut before he said anything stupid.
She brought in bread and salad, then the serving bowl full of fettuccine, broccoli, and chicken.
“Why don’t you sit?” he suggested. Derek wanted to let her know she was free to go, paycheck in hand, as soon as possible. She served him some pasta, then herself, and sat down at the table. He rarely ate in here. There was more than enough space for twenty at the table, and it brought him back to a time when the holidays were full of laughter and fun. That was before he and his father shut themselves off from the world. His father had emerged and rebuilt his life, but Derek had not. He twirled some pasta around his fork. It was creamy, garlicky, and delicious.
“Better than a sandwich,” he admitted and was awarded a smile.
“Told you so.” Izzy wound fettuccine around her fork. “I have a few more recipes up my sleeve.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he said quickly. He cringed at his tone again, formal mixed with a drill sergeant. If he were her, he would’ve already stomped out of the house. “What I mean is, I plan to pay you whether you complete your time here or not. I’m sure you have family you’d prefer to spend the holidays with.”
Her mouth fell into a frown, and she bit her bottom lip. Why did she look so disappointed?
“You don’t want me here. That’s quite clear, but I have an obligation to the agency to fulfill my time.” She leveled her gaze, and her eyes bore into his. She wasn’t as meek and shy as he’d first thought.
“They’ll never know the difference. You can leave tomorrow with full payment, and if the agency calls, I’ll simply say everything is fine.” To busy his hands, Derek picked up the wooden serving spoon from the salad and dropped some of the greens on his plate.
“So, you want me to lie?” Izzy tilted her head, and rich curls draped over her shoulder.
Why couldn’t she take what he was offering and see the benefit in it? Instead, she was making him feel like the scum of the earth.
“Stretch the truth, perhaps. It will be better for both of us.” He turned back to his meal and tried to avoid the look she was giving him—one that mimicked his grade school principal’s when he’d given Derek a detention.
“How so?” She ripped off a piece of bread from the loaf and started breaking it in pieces, not putting a single morsel into her mouth.
Derek took a deep breath and shook his head. “You’ll get a two-week holiday, and I’ll get my space back.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Have I been that obtrusive?” Below her, the dog whined and rested its head on her lap.
Derek was quickly losing his patience. Why couldn’t she just take the hint? “There’s nothing here for you to do. My staff made a foolish mistake when they hired a temp. The reason I forced them to take a holiday was that I didn’t want to be bothered.”
“And that’s my fault? I had no idea what I’d be walking into, and I’m trying to make the best of it while you’ve been downright boorish. Besides, I wouldn’t feel right taking your money under false pretenses.”
Oh, Christ. Her eyes were suddenly shiny, and she blinked rapidly. Izzy stood up and collected her plate, then his, and disappeared into the kitchen. She was right. They were both the victim in this. She’d expected to be welcomed into a home that needed her help for the holidays, and he had anticipated two weeks of quiet. He always needed a few days after the flurry of wrapping paper and chatter of family to be alone and decompress.
What should he do now? Find her and apologize or just pray that she left in the morning?
Derek scrubbed his hands over his face, stood up, and walked toward the kitchen. She was standing at the sink, rinsing off dishes, and placing them i
n the dishwasher. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He’d already done enough damage for one night. On his way back to his office, his cell phone buzzed inside his pocket. Why now? As if his night wasn’t bad enough, his well-intentioned stepmother was calling to pester him. Derek accepted the call and held the phone to his ear.
“Hello, Janet.” It wasn’t that he didn’t like her. She was kind beyond measure in a suffocating and pushy sort of way.
“Oh, Derek. You’re not going to believe who I ran into today.” He opened the door to his room and settled at his desk. Her high-pitched voice held all the excitement of a teenager on prom night. It had the potential to be a long call.
“I couldn’t begin to guess,” he said drily and leaned back in the chair, flicking his eyes toward the ceiling.
“Rose Schafer was at the deli today, and her niece Carolynn is newly single. Do you remember I introduced you at the art gala last year? Such a nice girl, and smart, too. It looks like Santa Claus gave you an early Christmas gift.”
Derek rolled his eyes and cringed. “I vaguely remember.” Even if he were interested in dating, the woman wasn’t his type. He certainly recalled her laugh, which had threatened to crack the glass windows at the gallery.
“Well, make sure you spruce up for our visit, because I’m going to invite her to Christmas Eve dinner.” Derek nearly choked on his tongue. Every holiday, Janet and his father pressured him about dating, marriage, and babies. They’d gone as far as tucking online dating subscriptions in his stocking, but nothing this bold.
“You can’t.” Once Janet got something in her head, it was like trying to pry a bone away from a hungry dog.
“Why not? You have more than enough space. It’s time you settled down and met a nice girl. Your father and I have been so patient—”
“I have.” The words left his mouth out of desperation, and then there was no turning back.
“Really? Oh, Derek. Just wait until I tell Paul, he’ll be so thrilled. We can’t wait to meet her at Christmas.”
“She, er…won’t be able to make it.” Great. His lie had just made things so much worse.
“Derek, you wouldn’t be making up some girl, would you? Because I will hang up this phone and call Carolynn Schaffer.”
“No.” He shot forward in his chair. “She might be able to stop by.” Derek clenched a pencil between his fingers and cursed himself.
“It doesn’t sound very serious to me.” Derek could hear Janet’s nails clicking impatiently on the other line. “You should keep your options open. Just spend time with Carolynn for one meal, and see if there are any sparks.”
Derek blew out a hard breath. “It is serious. She’s…living here.” He bore down on the pencil so hard it snapped in half.
“Oh!” Janet shrieked, and Derek’s face puckered like he’d taken a bite of a lemon. “Well, that’s just wonderful. I’ll have to get her a little something. What’s her name, dear?”
Shit. His brain was reeling, and he rattled off the first name that popped into his head. “Izzy. Izzy Simon.”
“Sounds pretty. We’ll see you and Izzy in a few days.” The line went dead, and Derek slumped back into his chair. What on earth had he just done? He’d have to make up some excuse why his girlfriend couldn’t make it to the holidays. Then he’d be forever plagued by Janet playing matchmaker. He couldn’t deal with one more holiday hearing about all the wonderful, single women his father and stepmother knew. If they were to meet someone they thought was his girlfriend, would they finally stop pushing?
He shook his head. Izzy would never go for it, and he’d be mortified to ask. She hadn’t even liked the idea of taking pay without finishing her temp work for him. Never in a million years would she pretend to be someone she wasn’t.
Outside the door, Derek heard the telltale roll of a suitcase against the tile floor. He jumped to his feet. If he was going to do this, he had to act fast. He weighed the options—lose some of his pride and get Janet off his back for the rest of the year, or let Izzy walk out of the house and deal with the consequences on Christmas. The choice seemed like a no-brainer, but Derek didn’t have high hopes. Over dinner, he’d gotten frustrated and raised his voice. He’d been rude. Now he was going to ask her to do him a favor? If she was going to agree to this, he’d have to sweeten the pot. He got to his feet, straightened his shoulders, and prepared to ask Izzy Simon to play the role of live-in girlfriend.
Chapter Three
Atticus looked on soulfully as Izzy folded the last sweater and stowed it into the suitcase. She had failed miserably. If only she had a crystal ball to see if there’d be repercussions from the agency, or if Derek would keep his word and lie on her behalf. It didn’t sit well. Izzy looked wistfully at the soaker tub, took her toiletries off the vanity, and zipped them into a plastic bag. The dismissal ran bone deep. Her entire life, people pushed her to the side or treated her like less of a person. Everyone except for Gram. She had gotten over her past hurts in adulthood, but this experience sucked her back into her childhood, when she’d been a gangly, acne-riddled youth.
“Well, I guess this is good-bye.” She ruffled the fur on the dog’s head, opened the door, and walked briskly down the hall toward the stairs.
Izzy was edgy as she hustled down the corridor. Call her a coward, but she didn’t want to face him again. She’d been willing to give him a chance, but it turned out her original assessment was correct. Derek Croft was the picture of selfish entitlement. He was ill-mannered and—
The door in front of her swung open, and before she had a moment to deflect, Derek stormed right into her. She rocked back on her heels, losing her balance until strong hands steadied her. They were standing just inches apart, and her eyes were level with his firm chest. She angled her chin up toward his face and found him staring down at her with the most peculiar look.
She stiffened when those dark eyes skimmed down to her lips. Oh boy. Was he going to kiss her? Not a chance. Men like Derek didn’t go for Plain Janes like her. He stood still for one heartbeat, then two, with only the sound of their breathing echoing softly through the halls.
Derek stepped back first. More rejection tightened her throat. It was silly to think that he found her attractive, and hadn’t she just been listing all his deplorable qualities before he smacked into her? There were many things more important than a chiseled body and a handsome face. A little bit of kindness, for starters, went a long way in her book.
“Izzy, ah…” Derek licked his lips, looked at the floor, then back at her. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”
“Human interaction?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Derek chuckled in the back of his throat. “That’s one way to put it. Can we talk for a moment in the parlor?”
Izzy hesitated. Something about his tone made her uneasy. “Quickly. If I’m to find a hotel room this late at night, I’ll have to leave right away.”
She followed him down the hall, a tight knot forming in her belly with every step. She’d been vetted before this process started, but had he? What if he was some loon? There wasn’t another home or human for miles. Atticus appeared and padded along beside them. She reached over and stroked his fur, more for her comfort than the dog’s. They walked down the stairs, and Derek pulled open the door to the parlor.
“Sit down. I’ll start a fire.” He turned his back to her, and she studied him as he took pieces of stacked wood and placed them into the hearth. Izzy hated driving at night and wanted to hit the road, but her fingers were like ice. She sat on the leather love seat, trying to shake the sinking feeling that she’d failed at her first assignment. Perhaps Derek needed her help after all. Would she want to stay after how he’d treated her? He turned toward her, and Izzy’s mind momentarily went blank. He was so completely male. His hair brushed his jawline, giving him the appearance of an English duke or a rogue pirate. Her mouth had gone dry, and she swallowed a few times, trying to gain her composure.
Derek s
at across from her, rested his hands on his knees, and interlocked his fingers. “For years, my family has nagged and pressured me to settle down. Every family holiday feels like a round of speed dating with the most eligible bachelorettes shoved down my throat.” He shifted and rubbed his hands against his jeans. He looked as comfortable as someone sitting bare-bottomed on a block of ice. Why was he telling her this? He cleared his throat and started again.
“This year, my stepmother, Janet, insisted on bringing a newly single woman, who I can’t stand by the way, to Christmas Eve dinner. I just can’t take another year of their pressure.” The brooding look on Derek’s face returned.
Izzy’s eyes narrowed. “What does it have to do with me?” She crossed her arms around her waist.
“The only way to put a wrench in her plans was to tell her I’d found someone.” Derek broke her gaze and looked down at the floor. It was silly to sit here with the clock hands ticking slowly as Derek circled around the point he was trying to make.
“Congratulations,” Izzy said sarcastically and started to get up. She didn’t have time to listen to how Derek found the love of his life.
“Except, I haven’t. I haven’t even dated in years, and I have no intention to. It’s like being on trial for something, or an interview,” he said. Was that desperation swimming in his eyes? “She insisted I tell her a name on the phone and wants to meet the girl over Christmas.”
“Looks like you’re in it deep.” Izzy scooted to the edge of the couch, ready to get up. She didn’t like the direction this was headed.
“To say the least. The name I blurted out on the phone was Izzy Simon. You were the first woman I could think of—and I told her you lived here.” He looked away and stared into the flames flickering in the hearth.
The Bookworm and the Beast Page 2
