And textures, touching, which had always been important to him, had taken on a new importance these days.
He had stopped at the right angle so that he caught part of her smile. “What?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just that this doesn’t seem like a house that you would own.”
He lifted his left eyebrow, wondering where this was leading. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. I picture you in either something horribly elegant the way the mansion is or else in something terribly masculine, all stone and massive timbers. This house is…”
“Too pretty with all that china-blue and lacy-white paint? Too fussy?”
She laughed, and it was such a lovely, foreign sound that he wondered if he had ever heard her laugh before.
“Not fussy. Cozy,” Eden corrected, “but yes, it’s a bit of a Hansel-and-Gretel gingerbread of a house. A fairy-tale house. You sound as if you have some affection for it.”
Jeremy shrugged. “It made a good hideout for me when I was growing up.”
“I’ll bet your friends loved it.”
“You might say that.” He had mostly brought girls here. They hadn’t noticed the details, and he hadn’t pointed them out, but he had no intention of mentioning that to Eden. There was already too much electricity arcing between them.
“I’ll have one of my employees bring in your bags. You’ll want to have some time to yourself.” He moved down the stairs and away. “The place is open right now, but the keys are on the kitchen table. Use them. This is a safe neighborhood, but I don’t believe in taking chances.” Not anymore.
“Jeremy?”
He stopped and turned.
She frowned. “Until there are some children and parents to talk to, what do you want me to do?”
Come closer, automatically came to mind, followed immediately by Don’t come closer. “Prepare yourself,” he said, instead. “Read up on my condition and the risks inherent to any children I might have fathered so that you’ll be able to understand and explain it to those you’ll need to talk to. I have plenty of material in the library as well as banks of computers. I’ll show you after dinner. For now, just get your bearings and the lay of the land.”
She furrowed her brow. “That’s all? That is, I’m a good researcher and I’m sure that will take some time but…you’re paying me well. Isn’t there anything else I can do?”
Jeremy blew out a breath and thought about the fact that a few years ago he would never have believed he would have a need to hire Eden at all. Now she was a necessity, and the reason for that was too unnerving, frustrating and despair making.
He slowly shook his head and felt the slick slide of regret and anger push at him from all sides, but he battled it into simmering submission. He had to, because if he didn’t, his anger might show. It might come bubbling out, and it wasn’t Eden that he was angry with, but life, and his life was not her fault. For once, it wasn’t even his fault.
Carefully he searched for the words to explain. “I’m sure you know this, Eden, because you grew up in this area, but I have servants who clean and keep my house and who cook for me. I have gardeners and accountants. Those people have always been a part of my life, and the only new people I’ve hired are the investigator and you. He’s investigating. You’re…getting ready and waiting. The getting ready is really important, but it’s the afterward that’s most important. So, the answer is no on having other work for you. Other than what I’ve told you, you can’t help me. You really can’t help me,” he repeated.
His words and his tone had come out too harsh, and Eden was looking wary. “I didn’t mean to appear flippant,” she said.
He held up a hand to stop her. “I didn’t think you were being flippant. But, this situation…” He blew out a breath. “The situation is this. You’re here because there may be a child or children who need your help. If I could go back and change the past, I would never have risked fathering a child, but it is the children I’m asking for your help with, and…I’m not a child.”
“I know that.”
“You don’t. Not in the sense that I mean. You see a man disintegrating from what he was, one no longer as capable as he once was. You see a need and you want to help. That’s…nice, but understand that that kind of help isn’t what I need.”
She stood there, silent, tension hanging in the air. “What do you need?”
To be whole, to be a complete man, to rewrite the past and change the future. “Why does it matter?”
“Your needs will be their needs if the worst comes to pass,” she said simply. “Isn’t that important?”
“Yes.” But conceding that was getting too close to admitting things he wasn’t prepared to admit yet. Not to anyone other than himself.
“Besides,” she said, taking a step closer and standing taller. “I won’t lie to you. I need this job. I have plans and goals, but before I can make those plans a reality…”
She looked uncomfortable.
“Eden?”
An audible sigh escaped her. “My husband emptied our bank accounts when he left me. He owed money, and I was the one who had to pay the bills. I’m still working on that.”
“I see. I could help you.”
“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “I’ve already done the dependence routine too many times, and it’s a really ugly feeling. I need to take care of this on my own. I can’t take unmerited help. I just…I earn my way, and I don’t take money I haven’t worked for.”
“And you feel that’s what I’m asking you to do?”
“Yes. In a way.”
“What way?”
“In the way people used to act when I lived here. Almost everyone in the area is rich and they all knew that we weren’t. They would give us the clothes and furniture they didn’t want anymore. I know their intentions were good, but we went to school with their sons and daughters, and taking their charity made us feel as if we were lacking in some way. Equality wasn’t possible.”
“And you want to be my equal?”
Oh, that definitely was a blush spreading up from the neckline of her white blouse. This time he saw the contrast for certain, and what that did to his imagination was…intriguing and disturbingly erotic.
But Eden had crossed her arms. “I am your equal.” She said it boldly, even though there was a noticeable tremble in her voice as if she didn’t believe her own words.
What could he do? He tilted his head. “Agreed. Absolutely.”
She waited. “Work?” she asked.
He searched his mind, then turned his head to the side. “All right, I do have an extra job you can do to earn your keep, since you insist I’m overpaying you.”
“You are overpaying me. Even a rich boy like you knows that.”
“A rich boy?” He couldn’t help the mock-indignant look that turned into a smile.
“It’s what you are and always have been,” she told him. “You wanted me to be truthful.”
“But not brutal,” he said, intending to tease.
Instantly those crossed arms dropped. “I’m sorry.”
“I was kidding. I know what I am, Eden. I’m what you said, and I don’t apologize for it.”
She nodded. “Don’t apologize. You got me through a lot of tough days when I was young.”
“I did?”
Her chest rose deliciously. “Yes, you were the fantasy boy girls daydreamed about at school, but don’t let it go to your head. I was young and stupid then.”
“And now you’re not.”
“And now I’m definitely not. No more fantasy men in my life. Not even you.”
He couldn’t help grinning. Was that an answering grin on her face? “Well, it’s good that we’ve established the fact that you’re impervious to my wealth and my charming ways.”
“We have.” But as he stood there gazing her way, charmed by this new impertinent Eden, she took a slight step back. “Now about the extra work…”
Oh yes. R
eality. “I’m a computer consultant. I spend all my time with the newest toys in the business,” he told her, “but I haven’t gotten around to researching the toys that will make those children’s lives easier if they should need that kind of help. Oh, I know the possibilities, but there’s been no hands-on stuff. I haven’t actually tried any of the available tools.”
“Because you see well enough.”
“Well enough,” he agreed. And because he wasn’t ready yet to give up even a centimeter he didn’t have to, but…
“The children might need some of this stuff. If you could read up, order some samples, try things out…”
“I can do that. And if I need you?”
He couldn’t help blinking.
“As a guinea pig, I mean,” she explained.
No, he wanted to say, but then he was the one who had suggested the task and he really did want to understand the results for the sake of his offspring if he had any.
“If it proves necessary,” he finally said, and he took a step closer and took her hand. “Thank you, Eden, for offering to do what I hadn’t even asked. You’re…very different from what I remember.”
He was too close for details but he could tell she was smiling. “You don’t really remember much of me,” she accused. “Truthfully.”
What could he say? Jeremy shrugged. “Truthfully, I don’t remember much.”
“You were pretty busy in those days.”
“I was self-absorbed.”
“That, too.”
He chuckled. “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked for truthfulness.”
“I would have given it to you, anyway. I need truth in my life now.”
Jeremy nodded. He released her hand, because the truth was that standing this close to her made him remember one thing. She had kissed him once. Obviously, it wasn’t going to happen again. She clearly regretted that first time, and given their situation, he knew it would be the worst kind of idea for them to touch.
Still, he’d never been the type to deny himself pleasure just because it was a bad idea. He definitely was attracted to Eden Byars with her clean violet scent, her soft skin and her pretty laugh. He had an aching hunger to feel her lips against his. Just a quick taste. But that was one bit of truth he wasn’t offering up. There were some things a man couldn’t fight, but sexual temptation could be easily overcome. He wasn’t going to touch this woman.
As promised, an employee, Donald, had brought Eden’s bags in. “Anything else you need, ma’am?”
She needed him to stop calling her ma’am and looking at her as if she were nobility when she was probably no wealthier than he was. Eden shook her head. “Thank you, no. I appreciate you carrying my things in and taking care of my car.”
“Mr. Fulton says that you’re to change or pack away anything in the house that doesn’t suit you. He had it restored to the way it was years ago, but it’s yours while you’re here.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
Donald nodded. “Sometimes Lula comes in and leaves a few things.” His tone was casual but vaguely uncomfortable.
Eden blinked. “Lula?” Was this house where Jeremy brought his women friends?
“Lula’s the cook. She was here when Mr. Fulton was young, and when his aunt would get mad at Mr. Fulton—which apparently was a lot—the woman would throw away his stuff. Lula salvaged some of the things and hid them here. She put them away when they were fixing the house, but lately she’s been bringing things back piece by piece.” Donald smiled.
Eden practically groaned. Not only was she working for Jeremy and living on his property, she was staying in his childhood hideaway surrounded by his boyhood treasures.
“I’m sure everything will be fine. I’m not planning on settling in for very long,” she told Donald and herself. “I just—Mr. Fulton just has a job for me to do,” she finished lamely, not knowing how much, if anything, Jeremy’s servants knew about why she was here. Clearly Ashley hadn’t known about the possibility of children.
“It’s okay. We know it has something to do with Mr. Fulton not seeing as well as he used to. We know about that, but we don’t talk. He really doesn’t like people to know.” Donald looked at her pointedly, as if to warn her.
Eden didn’t know whether to be insulted that Jeremy’s servants were issuing not-so-veiled warnings to her, touched that they cared about him that much or alarmed that she felt a rather childish urge to cross her heart and hope to die before she revealed Jeremy’s secrets.
“Some things are just off-limits,” she said, which pretty much summed up her feelings about the whole situation and seemed to satisfy Donald. She wasn’t going to discuss Jeremy with anyone. She didn’t even want to think about Jeremy, and she absolutely did not want to explore her feelings about the day and this necessary but emotionally dangerous situation she was in.
But when Donald had gone and Eden wandered inside, she was pleasantly surprised. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to find, but there weren’t any visible traces of Jeremy. Just beautiful, old cottage-style furniture in cream and gold and cornflower-blue. Very comfortable and tasteful. Better quality than anything she had ever owned or ever would own but still homey.
This is nice, she thought, until she opened a drawer on the nightstand and found a stack of old photos. Women. Well, much-younger women, that is. Many she recognized. Rich, gorgeous, the cream of the area. She knew what these were. Mementoes that had been given to Jeremy a long time ago. There was Lara Pettison wearing a skimpy skirt and a midriff top, grinning at the camera as if her expression was all for Jeremy. There was Mindy Tarrant in her cheerleading outfit with “Love ya, Jer. Really!” written on the border in purple ink with a purple kiss drawn next to the writing. For half a second, Eden was back in school, watching Jeremy walk away with a girl who wasn’t her. In the next second she wondered if Jeremy knew these were here. She felt like some kind of icky voyeur.
“Does it matter?” she asked herself. “None of this has anything to do with you or your work.” Searching around for a box, she laid the photos carefully inside, then put it in the closet and closed the lid. There. She felt a childish sense of satisfaction, as if she had managed to put Jeremy in a box at last.
Maybe she had.
But in the next moment she heard sounds outside and looked out her open window. Jeremy was running past, a pair of runner’s shorts revealing strong, muscled thighs. His chest was bare. His broad shoulders glistened with sweat. He gave a quick wave but kept going.
As she watched him moving away, Eden’s heart raced. Had she really thought she could ever be completely immune to this man’s physical appeal? What woman could?
Her next thought was that she wondered that he could run, given his situation, but he appeared to be doing just that. And moving quickly, too. She remembered him telling her that he did all he could though his sight was failing.
Reckless, she thought. Driven. Still wild. Still dangerous.
Tomorrow she was going to attack her work with a vengeance. She was going to do all that she could. Staying here too long couldn’t be good for her. She was, literally, sleeping in Jeremy’s bed, and the very thought made her tremble.
“Blinders, Byars,” she told herself. “Some people can’t handle cigarettes or alcohol or food. You can’t seem to choose or handle men very well.”
It was time to do what she had learned to do best. Move beyond the bad, threatening things in her life. If she could just survive Jeremy one more time, everything would be fine. Surely she could do that, couldn’t she?
Yes, darn it. But handling things was easier when a person was fully prepped. Information made good armor, so tomorrow she would go hunting. She hoped she’d find something useful.
CHAPTER THREE
THE woman was prompt. He had to give her that, Jeremy thought, when he came downstairs for breakfast the next day.
“Ms. Byars is in your library,” his housekeeper told him. “She said to let you know that she has questions when you hav
e some time.”
He immediately put down his napkin. “Show her in.”
In less than a minute, Eden was in the doorway. “Have you eaten?” he asked her. He’d had the cottage stocked.
“Just coffee. I’ve never been a breakfast person.”
Because her family hadn’t been able to afford much food when she was younger, he would guess. She still was almost too slender. “Mind if I am?”
She tilted her head inquisitively.
“A breakfast person,” he explained.
“Oh. No. This can wait.”
He shook his head. “Sit. We’ll talk. I have a meeting in an hour.”
Immediately Eden moved into the room, but off to one side where his peripheral vision was best, Jeremy couldn’t help but notice. The temptation to turn so that he was facing her more directly warred with his need to see her better. He had a strong desire to form a full picture of what Eden looked like now. Which was alarming. Eden might have that cool, forthright exterior, but he sensed emotion and complexity beneath the surface. Given his situation and his priorities, that meant she was one woman he needed to keep in a compartment. Business. All business.
“Sit,” he said again, a bit too forcefully.
She sat where he directed her, beside him where Mrs. Ruskin had had the maid put an extra place setting. Some people might think he was being overly personal having her sit next to him rather than across from him, but he hated explaining. He turned to get the best view, focusing his full attention on her.
Her response was immediate. She sat up taller, then went totally still, almost rigid. He got the feeling that while Eden might need this job, she wasn’t too thrilled about working with him. He remembered what she’d said about having had a crush on him. No doubt she regretted having admitted that.
“I’ve been reading,” Eden rushed in. “I understand the basics, the fact that this condition usually manifests itself earlier in life than it has with you, the fact that it’s genetic and that you have a sensitivity to light and only your peripheral version remains untouched.”
Her Millionaire, His Miracle Page 3
