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He looked at her suspiciously. Everything was upsetting him. He had invited a scrap of a woman into his life, and she’d turned it upside down in no time flat. Wasn’t that enough to upset him? And did he want to feel this way? Did he want to feel anything? Plus he couldn’t get away from her—she was everywhere. Her essence invaded his mind, his body, his house—she wasn’t just here with him in his kitchen, she was in his head.
His thoughts were interrupted when she moved past him to the fireside.
The way her face brightened as she warmed herself contrasted sharply with his mood. He tried hard to sustain his bad mood, but now she was kneeling on the rug in front of the fire with her hands outstretched like a child…He looked away thinking he should know better than to introduce a girl like Liv into his dark world.
Liv was relieved to be able to turn her back on Cade and stare into the flames. She had been so certain he would be pleased to see her when she burst in through the kitchen door in a flurry of rain and parcels. She had been excited by the prospect of seeing him again, but his mood had quickly dampened that. And she still couldn’t work out what she’d done.
She had expected too much of him, that was all. Why should he be pleased to see her? She hadn’t proved anything yet. But tonight was her big chance. She brightened at the thought of it. She was going to cook Cade the best meal he’d ever eaten. At least that was one thing she could get right. She refused to be a grump, just because he was, and she had no intention of remaining on her knees all night with her back turned as if she were frightened of him. She was frightened of him, though not in the conventional sense. She was frightened of what she could see in his face…shadows, and grief, in spite of his hard outer shell. ‘You make a great fire,’ she said, trying hard to the lighten the mood.
‘It will be your job from now on.’
Had he mistaken her for Cinderella? She managed to hold her tongue as she glanced at the pile of heavy logs.
‘You’d better go and change,’ he said. ‘I’m hungry, and I’d like to eat soon.’
She had never expected working as a housekeeper to be easy, had she? ‘My apologies,’ she said pleasantly, remembering what the job meant to her. ‘I just thought I should dry out a little first.’ She held his gaze, and had the satisfaction of seeing his glance flicker away for once. She suspected Cade wasn’t used to defiance but there was only so far she would go. She would work as hard as she could, and cooperate to the best of her ability, but she would not cower in front of him.
‘At least you’ve got your uniform,’ he said.
She had been so lost in her thoughts it took her brain a moment to unscramble. ‘My uniform?’
‘Yes, you can change into it before you serve supper. You might as well get used to wearing it—’
Her nod got stuck halfway. She could understand that Cade felt more comfortable with people in uniform, and perhaps he would relax a little when she put it on…but—and she wasn’t being silly now—where was it? ‘Sorry?’ she said, gazing round the room to prompt him.
‘What are you looking for? It’s right here.’ He toed the edge of the dry-cleaner’s bag.
‘But those are your gran’s clothes…’
‘My gran?’
Liv paused. ‘You don’t have a gran.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Or an elderly relative…’
Cade’s ebony brows lifted.
‘So this…’ Liv gazed at the package on the floor in dread ‘…is my uniform?’
‘That’s exactly what it is,’ Cade told her stony-faced. ‘And now I suggest you go upstairs and put it on. You are still interested in the job, I take it?’
‘Of course I am—’
‘Well, then.’ He folded his arms across his broad chest. ‘I work to a strict timetable. I’ll give you a draft of my requirements later, but one thing will never change. Supper is always served at seven.’
If he’d told her—
‘I trust it won’t be late again?’
‘Once again, my apologies…’ How she managed to sound calm when Cade was being so unreasonable Liv had no idea. Maybe it was a measure of her determination. But, boy! Could she see why he had trouble hanging onto staff! What with the barren room and the way he’d talked to her—in her opinion a smooth-running household was a team, not a dictatorship.
‘I just like everything to be regular.’
She had to bend down and pick up her parcels before Cade could see the smile on her face. She’d give him regular. A large dose of cascara in his food should sort him out. ‘I’ll lay up the dining room for seven o’ clock,’ she said mildly.
‘Prompt.’
‘Prompt,’ she echoed, holding her breath until Lieutenant Colonel Grant had left the room, a
t which point she stuck out her tongue and wiggled it vigorously.
Closing the door, he let out his breath in a ragged stream. Shutting his eyes was no deterrent against the evidence. The blouse beneath Liv’s jacket had been soaking wet, revealing the contours of her breasts in alarming detail. He couldn’t trust himself to stay in the same room with her a moment longer, and the faster she got herself into that shapeless uniform, the better it would be all round. He only had to picture his previous housekeeper wearing the same outfit to know that both of them would be completely safe. He, for instance, would be able to breathe again properly, and function like any normal, rational man, instead of the sex-craved, rabid beast he felt sure he had become.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE housekeeper’s uniform was the most hideous thing Liv had ever seen. She could hardly bare to look at her reflection. Woolen stockings, yellow ochre in colour, wrinkled around her ankles, and the shapeless navy blue serge skirt together with its matching boxy jacket was so ugly it should be shredded and set fire to. Cade had no idea. When she thought of the smart army attire he wore for his job it made her ping with fury to think he expected anyone who worked for him to wear this rubbish. She was going to have it out with him—
No, she was going to calm down right now, and accept that she had no alternative but to toe the line, at least for the time being. Did she want this job, or not?
Liv soothed herself by laying out the little trinkets and feminine accessories she had bought in town to make her life in the attic room at Featherstone more bearable. It hadn’t cost her much to transform her bedroom…just a scented candle, a cheap, but pretty chiffon scarf thrown over the back of the single hard-backed chair, a clock, and a pair of fluffy slippers to tuck underneath the bed. Oh, and a small vase full of fresh flowers, as well as a novel for her to read…
