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“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. Reality. “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 have 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.”
Ah, so he didn’t have to explain why she was beside him and that he wasn’t some lech trying to rub knees with her. And yet…she’d made the comment as if she had read his mind. Had he revealed any emotion? Demonstrated any awkwardness or weakness? If so, he would have to watch that. Visible chinks in the armor were unacceptable.
“That’s right. If you were in front of me this close, parts of you would be blurry, but at this angle I can see that you’ve pulled your hair back, you have dangling earrings and you’re wearing a blouse with contrasting buttons. The top one is open.”
Those big gray eyes flew open wide. Jeremy suppressed a smile. “Sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t help noticing, but I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
She lifted her chin, her color high. “No, that’s all right. It helps me to know what the situation is, and I really do need to understand, but…”
He waited. The tension emanating from her was palpable, practically electric. His fingers itched to touch and soothe. With effort he restrained himself.
“Is that how you’re able to run?”
Without thought, he turned toward her even though she blurred a bit more. “Partially, yes. I can see part of the ground and things at the edge. What I can’t see is what’s too far ahead, but the estate is familiar territory and the grounds are well kept. I don’t have to worry about hazards or holes or traffic.”
“I’ve had students who were runners. You have a nice form. I mean—”
He held up his hand to stop her. “I know what you meant. You don’t have to watch your words or worry that I’ll misread anything you say. I think we’ve established that whatever lay in our past is in the past and this is just business. While I find you attractive, I’m not going to jump you.”
For a second she looked startled. “I never thought you would. And…I wouldn’t jump you, either. That is—”
He smiled. “It’s okay, Eden.”
“Not to me, it isn’t. I never stammer anymore. It’s unprofessional, and I’ve trained myself not to. Besides, all I really meant to say was that you could have been a runner on the school team. I can see you’re that good.”
“No. That wouldn’t have happened,” he said with a small smile. “I never stuck to anything that long.” He’d been too busy causing trouble, but there was no reason to say that. They both knew it.
Eden shifted on the seat beside him. Her prim skirt brushed against his leg. An innocent occurrence that connected them for half a second and sent a current of awareness through him. Quickly she smoothed the cloth away, and he controlled the urge to lean closer. She might project a cool, calm demeanor, but there were still traces of the younger, skittish Eden. She’d obviously been hurt by men, and he was her employer, a man she had a right to trust.
“My troublemaking days are over,” he assured her.
“Because of your…”
“My blindness? No. It’s because I choose for them to be over.” Which implied that he might just as easily choose to start them up again.
She nodded. “What else do you do?” she asked, and he saw then that she had pulled out a pad of paper.
He reached out and gently pulled it away. He took her hand and felt her long, slender fingers in his grasp.
“I’ll help you with your research when I can, and I’ll even try the instruments out when it’s necessary, but don’t use me as your model. The things I do—well, it wouldn’t be wise to make those kinds of promises to a child or a parent. I don’t want to be a role model. That’s not me.” And never had been.
