The First Noelle

by Delia Latham

  He was a dream client—money was no issue, and he wasn’t hard to please. She got the feeling he’d put her at the helm and expected her to pilot the ship—or rather, his museum. Just as she recognized his phenomenal eye for architectural design, he gave her full credit for being a skilled interior decorator and had no desire to micromanage the project.

  On the other hand…

  Noelle had laughed more in his kitchen today than she had in the past year or so, all told. That was so unlike her. At least, it wasn’t like the person she’d become. Years ago, yes. She’d spent nearly every waking moment with Trevor, and they found something incredibly hilarious in almost every situation. But in the years since he’d cut out on their nuptials, she couldn’t recall a single time when she’d laughed with such delicious abandon.

  She swallowed a chuckle. This man would soon pay her an exorbitant amount of money for her work in his home. How was she supposed to tell him she found it laughable that what he called a kitchen table was a good deal larger and far fancier than those in the formal dining rooms of most Hope Springs families?

  “So is that it for today, then?” Michael stood, and something in his gaze caught at her heart.

  He didn’t want her to leave. But surely he wasn’t lonely. No man with Michael’s looks and wealth, who also had the media salivating for the chance at snapping his photo, ever needed to be alone. His solitude was self-imposed.

  Which begged the question…why. What made this man tick?

  She held his hopeful gaze, unable to tear her own away. She jumped, startled when Josie’s voice sliced through the momentary lull brought about by Noelle’s epiphany.

  “It is not all for today.” Josie came to a rolling stop between Michael and Noelle. “Shame on ye, Mr. Michael! Did’je think I’d be sendin’ the lassie home without feedin’ ’er, then?”

  “No, ma’am. I know better.” Michael wasn’t laughing—not quite, but he didn’t do a very good job of looking soundly scolded. “I only meant to ask Miss Joy if she had anything else planned for the day. Here. In the house. With you and me.”

  “Hmmm.” Josie shot him a look meant to wither.

  Noelle bit at her lip, determined not to give in to the merriment that fought to be released. She hadn’t the slightest doubt the Scottish woman would be happy to give her a tongue lashing right along with her boss.

  “Well, I’m sure an’ yer tellin’ a little white one, and ye should be ashamed o’ yersel’. If I didnae have yer plates all set to serrrve ye, I’d not be offerrrin’ ye a thing. But I’ll not be wastin’ good food.” She cast Michael a waspish glance. “Even if ye dinnae deserve it.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry, Josie.”

  “Hmph!” Josie waddled away, tugging a dishtowel off her shoulder. “Just sit yersel’s down again, the both of ye. I’ll just be a wee jiffy.”

  The moment Josie disappeared through the kitchen door, Michael caught Noelle’s eye. She should have expected it, should’ve been prepared, but Josie’s irreverent dressing down had left her slightly off her game. She didn’t expect Michael’s guilty-little-boy expression, and she wasn’t prepared. She let loose an indelicate guffaw and then slapped a hand over her traitorous mouth. She could cover that but not her shaking shoulders.

  Michael chuckled, low at first, clearly trying to keep Josie from hearing them. Then a loud burst of laughter escaped…and they both lost control. Sinking back onto the chairs they’d vacated only moments ago, they laughed long and hard.

  Noelle’s stomach ached and tears dripped off her chin by the time she finally pulled herself together.

  Michael handed her a napkin from a silver caddy on the table and took one for himself. They were both wiping moisture from their faces when Josie reappeared, pushing a butler’s tray laden with two full plates, a couple of glasses filled with amber liquid—ice cubes tinkling against the crystal—and two dessert dishes boasting huge servings of some luscious-looking chocolate treat that made Noelle’s mouth water.

  “Laughin’ like a couple o’ sick hyenies, the two o’ ye.” Josie plopped the plates in front of them, trying hard to appear angry, but Noelle caught a twinkle in the woman’s faded blue eyes. “Ye don’t deserve a bite, neither of ye rapscallions. It’s thankful ye ought to be that my heart is kind, else ye’d both be havin’ rrrumblin’ tummies, ye would.” She didn’t crack the slightest smile…but she caught Noelle’s gaze and winked before she huffed her way out of the room.

  After they made Josie’s delicious lunch disappear, Michael asked Noelle if she’d like to see the portion of the house that she had not yet visited. She’d toured the rooms he wanted her to revamp for Christmas but hadn’t wandered further into the depths of the huge estate.

  She gasped when he opened a set of doors to reveal a pool room. A Jacuzzi bubbled up foam and a sparkly mist at the far end, but it was a large, round pool that dominated the space.

  “You should keep a swimsuit here while you’re working, Noelle. You’re welcome to relax in this room any time. Muscle kinks and headaches must be familiar company in your line of work.”

  She shook her head, taking in the domed glass ceiling and textured tile floors. “Believe me. I won’t be shy. This room will see a good deal of use while I’m around. I’m all too familiar with both muscle soreness and headaches.” She heaved a sad sigh. “Worst of all, however, are the sudden, frightening attacks of pure, inexcusable meanness.” She giggled when his eyebrows shot high on his forehead. “Only when I’m exhausted, of course. I’m usually downright lovable.”

  Michael rolled his eyes. “I’ve been quite impressed by your…uhm, sweetness.”

  Noelle twisted her lips to one side. “Do I detect a wee note o’ sarcasm in yer voice, Mr. Michael?”

  Her deplorable stab at Josie’s delightful brogue made Michael laugh, and she joined him.

  “Shall we continue?”

  “Lead the way.”

  He showed her an astounding number of bedrooms…or perhaps they were called bed chambers in a place like this. She bit back a giggle. Michael would think she’d lost her mind over the past thirty-six hours or so. Professionalism seemed to have deserted her—at least, the rigid, unyielding, smiles-might-crack-your-face, stand-offish kind of professionalism she usually portrayed.

  She bounced off a broad chest and stayed on her feet only with the help of two strong hands that flew to her rescue and held her upright. “Excuse me.” Another round of giggles shook her frame. She didn’t realize she still stood in the circle of his arms until Michael’s laughter rumbled in his chest and vibrated against hers.

  She stepped back in a hurry but couldn’t wipe the silly grin off her face. The man’s chest was made for a woman to lean against. “Why did you stop like that?”

  “I forgot something.” He took her hand as if he’d done it a thousand times before and set off in the direction they’d just come.

  She didn’t have much of a choice, with her hand trapped in his. Noelle’s tentative smile followed Michael all the way to the end of the hallway, where he turned and pulled her along yet another length of corridor. At last, he paused in front of an eggshell-toned door.

  “I think you’ll like this room.” He gestured her inside.

  Noelle’s sharp intake of breath made Michael smile—a really big, endearing smile that made Noelle’s insides squiggle and squirm like a wiggly worm. Oh, my…she hadn’t thought of that childhood phrase in what felt like a lifetime.

  “This is not a museum room, Michael.” She focused on what he’d brought her to see. It forced her gaze away from that disturbing smile.

  He was insanely handsome. Denying something so blatantly true would be beyond ridiculous. But she didn’t have to stare at him like a besotted teenager—even though his hazel gaze seemed permanently targeted on her face.

  She stepped away and took in what he’d brought her to see.

  Flanking a floor-to-ceiling fireplace, a couple of soft, cushy sofas faced each other. Between them, a han
dsome old cedar chest served as a coffee table, on which rested a silver and glass tray that cradled a couple of leather-covered books. On the floor beneath the chest, a large area rug pulled everything together. Noelle’s toes twitched, aching to sink into the rug, which appeared soft enough to sleep on.

  Opposite the fireplace, a lovely bay window claimed most of the wall. Its cushioned seat and large throw pillows encouraged quiet times looking out on the grounds or getting lost in the pages of a book. Plenty of those filled the bookshelves on each side of the window.

  She caught her host’s searching gaze. “It’s lovely, Michael. After I swim and your Jacuzzi melts away all the starch in my bones, may I come in here to recuperate?”

  A slow, delicious smile eased across Michael’s face. “Only if you allow me to join you now and then.”

  Noelle’s cheeks tingled and then warmed. What? Was she blushing? This had to stop. But she made no move to bring the pleasant interlude to an end. Instead, she dipped her head and bit at her cheek like a shy teen. “I’d like that.”

  Only later did she realize that, even in that pleasant, homey area, she hadn’t seen a single family photo.

  8

  Michael leaned against the door frame, watching the activity.

  Across the room, from atop a ladder, Noelle gave her team verbal instruction as well as gestures and narrow-eyed consideration of every question. Michael couldn’t stop a mischievous grin. The woman on that ladder today made the one who’d shown up on his doorstep three weeks ago look like a pale shadow. Wearing sneakers, a loose sweatshirt and a pair of faded jeans, Noelle epitomized vibrancy.

  Her team loved it…now. But when they’d first arrived, Michael caught the confused glances and wide eyes at the change in the owner of Joy Designs. But no one said anything aloud. They just eased into the new way of things and performed their duties like the professionals they were.

  The place looked like a Christmas showplace already, and Noelle wasn’t finished. Her energy never seemed to flag, but then, she’d always been a fireball—never still, always on the move. No matter what, he’d kept up, because he couldn’t bear to be apart from her. Even as a child, he’d known Noelle was the love of his life.

  “What do you think, Michael?” Her voice cut through his reverie. “A little higher with this garland? It’s hard to tell from up here.”

  “Then take a walk on the wild side, Miss Joy. Come on down out of the clouds and see for yourself.”

  She bounced down the ladder as if she hadn’t been working since 7:00 AM, zoomed across the room, and landed a playful slap on his arm. “I was not in the clouds, Mr. Holliday.”

  “Well, now that you’re down here with us common folk, what do you think? The garland looks perfect to me.”

  She tilted her head one way and then cocked it the other, her beautiful eyes narrowed, full lips pursed. Finally, she relaxed and pulled out that crooked smile of hers, the one that always left Michael feeling a bit sucker-punched. “It is perfect. You could’ve just told me that yourself.”

  He leaned close and spoke low, for her ears only. “Oh, but then you wouldn’t have come closer. I like it when you’re closer. You smell like…well, it’s how I imagine Heaven smells.” His breath disturbed the silken wisps of hair that had worked loose from her short ponytail. Between the tickle of those wayward strands and the light scent of citrus and jasmine that always wafted around her in tantalizing waves, Michael found himself fighting the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she wilted.

  Not that she’d thank him much for doing so—especially in front of her team.

  She blushed, though, exactly as she’d done years ago when he’d popped off with something unexpected like that. “You, Mr. Holliday, are absolutely incorrigible.”

  “Yes. Encourage-able too, in case you’ve wondered.”

  “That’s not a word.”

  “Must be. I just used it. And was there any question about what it means?”

  “Miss Joy?” From the top rung of a twelve-foot ladder, one of the workers called across the room. “Are we leaving it, then?”

  “Yes, Jimmy. It’s perfect. Anchor it exactly where it is and then you guys call it a day. I’m going to, as well.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The men set to work, and Noelle took a half step away.

  Michael touched her arm, and she swung back, eyes aglow with a lovely light that hadn’t been there when she arrived in Hope Springs almost a month ago. “I’d like to have dinner together, if you’re not too tired.”

  She shook her head, and her lips curved upward. “Haven’t you had enough of me by now?”

  “Never gonna happen.”

  “Well, then, I suppose I can handle dinner. Sure. Are we actually going out or will we be dining in?”

  He hesitated. “Would you prefer to go out?”

  “Well, a girl does enjoy getting all dressed up now and then.”

  Michael’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Then I’ll pick you up about six o’clock.”

  “OK.”

  She stood watching him, that almost mysterious half-grin lifting one side of her lips. He didn’t mind looking at her all day, but she clearly had something on her mind.

  “What?” He raised a hand to scrub at his chin. “Am I wearing Josie’s chocolate frosting?”

  A little giggle burst from between her lips, and she shook her head. “No. I was waiting for you to realize you don’t know where I’m staying.”

  “Aren’t you staying with your parents?”

  She raised her eyebrows, and Michael remembered that he wasn’t supposed to know where they lived.

  “Oh…I guess I need an address, don’t I?”

  “It might help.” She turned away again and spoke over her shoulder. “I’ll get it to you before I leave.”

  “Don’t forget.” Michael watched for another minute and then forced himself to leave the room. At the rate he was going, Noelle would think he was some kind of sick stalker.

  He hurried upstairs to make a phone call. A couple of unobtrusive security guys in the restaurant, well within eyesight, couldn’t hurt. He’d never been absolutely certain how closely “they” watched, but he wasn’t about to put Noelle’s safety at risk.

  ****

  Noelle fended off her parents’ good-natured ribbing about her date with the man who’d be signing her check, and hurried to shower. Once under the hot spray, though, she let her thoughts go places she hadn’t allowed them to go for a long time.

  Something was happening between Michael and her. She probably should nip it in the bud before it became untamable, but she didn’t want to. Being with him had breathed new life into her sadly desiccated emotional existence. She’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to be admired by someone whose admiration she returned in full.

  He was an amazing man. Kind, gentle, funny…always respectful…an expert conversationalist who kept her on her toes and challenged her to stay alert and alive in his company. He made her want to be a better woman—a woman like she’d started out to be before her world fell apart inside her father’s church all those years ago.

  Why had it taken her so long to realize it was the first Noelle who had the right idea about how life should be lived? The recreated version of Noelle Joy was all sharp edges, tough as nails, and completely lacking in soul.

  Like Michael’s mansion. An empty shell with no echoes.

  After the wedding dress meltdown a couple weeks past, Noelle had thought she’d never fall asleep. Her nerves were too ragged and edgy. But she had, and she’d awakened feeling like a different person. She’d opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times, because the world looked so clear. For years, she’d looked at life through the distorted, foggy lens of bitterness. Something hard and unyielding within her had cracked and fallen away when she faced the wedding dress that hung in her closet like a skeleton. Why hadn’t she done it a long time ago?

  The next day she’d faced the Christmas ‘monster’
and created sketches to show Michael. She also spent several soul-cleansing hours with her parents, discussing the subject that had been taboo for a decade. Nothing had really changed. Trevor still wasn’t in the picture, and apparently no one knew if he was even alive. She wasn’t married and had no prospects in that direction. Thinking about how badly her lifetime best friend and the love of her life had betrayed her still had the power to sting.

  But somehow that hideous scream had released all the angst and bitterness like a hot knife lancing through a putrid wound. She’d thought the pain would kill her, and in reality, it had been severe enough that her mind almost forced a shutdown. Passing out hadn’t been two breaths away when her parents came thundering into her room following her throat-ripping yell. But having gone through the fire, her outlook on life was drastically altered. She was open to change, and to emotion…even though letting herself feel opened her up to brand new hurts.

  In the three weeks since, she and Michael had grown close. Being near him set her pulse pounding and made her want…something. Something more than he had so far offered, although she had no doubt the attraction was mutual.

  Getting ready for their date, Noelle grinned at her reflection. Before she left his place, she’d handed him a business card with her parents’ address scrawled on the back.

  “Betcha thought I’d forget, and you wouldn’t have to brave the big, bad world outside these gates.”

  He’d blanched, almost imperceptibly, but Noelle noticed. “Is that what you think? I’m not agoraphobic, Noelle. I just…I prefer being home most of the time.”

  “Hmm.” She wasn’t sure how much of that she believed, but he didn’t need to answer to her. “Well, not tonight. Tonight, let’s enjoy a special evening.”

  “Every moment is special when I’m with you.”

  She blinked. Had he really said that? And how was she supposed to respond?

  “Go on. Get ready. I’m sure you’ll knock my socks off when you’re all gussied up, but you do that every day.”