The Maid's Daughter

Gillian sighed and turned to curl an arm around his neck. Now her breasts were pressed snugly against his arm. He slid his fingers beneath the silk at her hip and felt her warm skin. His body throbbed with arousal. A few more inches and he would be touching her most intimate secrets.

Somewhere in the house he heard muffled laughter. The sound snatched him back to sanity. God in heaven. What was he doing? Had he learned nothing from the past?

He slid from the bed with all the care of a cat burglar hoping to elude detection. It took everything he had to turn his back on Gillian and return to his room. As he showered and dressed, he reminded himself of all the reasons he couldn’t start something with his overnight visitor.

First and foremost was Gillian’s clear discomfort about the fact that her mother worked for Devlyn’s father. Devlyn could not care less, but even so, he acknowledged the difficulty of coaxing Gillian into his bed with little or no privacy for their fledgling relationship, especially when either or both of their parents might not approve.

Secondly, he owed Gillian more than a verbal apology for his shameful actions in the past. Acknowledging that he had been merely a boy when it happened was not enough. He was determined to clean the slate, and he knew just how to do it. He told himself that in this instance he was doing the right thing and not merely perpetuating his tendency to play hero to every woman who crossed his path needing help.

In college, he had supported his roommate’s pregnant girlfriend, both emotionally and financially, when the father of her baby dumped her. That altruistic action on Devlyn’s part had severed his relationship with a young man he had considered his best friend.

Not only that, the girl had latched on to the idea that lovers were interchangeable … and she set her sights on Devlyn. Only by graduating and moving hundreds of miles away had he been able to extract himself from the messy situation.

Unfortunately, it was a pattern that repeated itself in subsequent years. Every time he rushed in on his white horse to save the day, he got screwed. The secretary at work whose brother needed a job ended up hating Devlyn when he finally had to fire her worthless sibling.

Even worse was the fifty-something caterer who had accused Devlyn, over two decades her junior, of sexual harassment. He had offered to help her load her van after a staff Christmas party, and the woman had seen a chance to make a quick buck.

The Wolff lawyers settled out of court, costing the family an indecent amount of money. Now that Devlyn thought about it, it was a miracle that his dad and uncle had trusted him enough to make him CEO.

But despite his sometimes unfortunate judgment in dealing with the female sex, he was a whiz kid when it came to money matters. He’d earned his own first million, aside from the family business, by investments he’d made in his late teens.

The intensity and daily challenge of running the far-flung Wolff empire suited him perfectly. He was due back at his headquarters in Atlanta soon. Barely enough time to present his proposition to Gillian and ensure that he had finally made amends for the past.

So why was he obsessing over the image of long, slender legs and a sweetly curved bottom? The answer was simple. Logical or not, he wanted her, though she certainly deserved better than the flawed man he was.

Picking up his smartphone from the bureau, he took a deep breath and strode out into the hall. He had a dozen balls to juggle today, and he was already running behind. His personal life could wait.

Gillian rolled over and glanced at the clock, her muddled brain trying to understand why both hands pointed straight up toward the twelve. Then everything came rushing back. Her accident, the multiple disturbing and faintly erotic encounters with Devlyn Wolff. Her lack of a job.

Not the best memories with which to begin a day in which her body felt like an old woman’s. She turned her head carefully, hoping to stave off the jackhammers that threatened to crush her skull. Though she was alone in the bed, the pillow beside her bore the unmistakable imprint of someone’s head. When she tugged it closer for a sniff, the soft, expensive fabric emanated the unmistakable scent of Devlyn Wolff.

Holy cow. What had she done? Squeezing her eyes shut, she reached for images that hid in random corners of her brain. She remembered going outside. She even remembered Devlyn bringing her in and watching her take off her pants. At that point, things became hazy.

He had touched her hair … had lulled her to sleep. Then what? Surely the memory of his big, warm hand on her butt was a dream.

Stumbling into the bathroom, she splashed water on her face and noted in surprise the neatly folded pile of clean clothes that turned out to be a khaki skirt and a black scooped-neck T-shirt with a matching thin cardigan.

The clothes fit perfectly, which in itself was alarming. A man who could choose women’s apparel with such an eye was a man with far too much experience in pleasing women.

Her boots were still muddy, perhaps beyond repair, but her stealthy benefactor had included a pair of black canvas espadrilles. The shoes were a little too large, but she stuffed tissues in the toes until she was certain they were snug enough to stay on her feet.

Feeling a bit too much like Little Orphan Annie, she finally opened the envelope that lay like a coiled serpent on the bedside table.

Please join me for lunch in the library at one. Devlyn.

The house was still and quiet, almost somnolent, as if everyone in the Sleeping Beauty castle snoozed for a thousand years. Thank God her mother was not scheduled to work today. Gillian’s face would have given her away, her mother seeing at once that her daughter had fallen under the spell of a Wolff prince.

Gillian remembered the way to the library with ease. It was another place where Doreen Carlyle had kept her daughter entertained while she worked. Gillian had always been a compliant child, not one to make messes or break things. She had been more than content to curl up on the velvet-covered bench seat in the window alcove and read her favorite books for hours at a time.

In many ways, the Wolff Castle library had been her magic carpet, taking her to lands beyond the horizon, introducing her to characters whose lives were far more exotic than her own. The library had been her haven, her cozy nest. When she was there, she felt safe.

But nothing about today’s visit inspired such warm, fuzzy feelings. When she opened the door, Devlyn was already in residence, his stance at the fireplace much like the night before in her bedroom. His lips curved in a welcoming smile, but his eyes were watchful.

“Good afternoon, Gillian. I hope you were finally able to get some sleep.”

He was playing with her, trying to make her nervous. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had been the one to enter her room and drop off the clothes and the note.

“Yes,” she said stiffly. “I did. I need to check on my car.”

He shrugged. “Already taken care of…. The garage will drop it off at your mother’s house by the end of the week.”

She bit her bottom lip. “I’d like an estimate. So I can contact my insurance.”

“Let me handle this. It’s the least I can do. You know they’ll jack up your rates if you submit it.”

He had her there. And she couldn’t afford the current payments, much less a rate hike. “I’ll pay you back.”

His brows narrowed in displeasure. “I said to forget it.”

“You like ruling the world, don’t you? Is there anyone who says no to you?”

Her sass seemed to amuse him. “Sit down, Gillian. Chef has prepared an autumn vegetable chowder that I’m told is to die for.”

She joined him at the table, wondering what his family thought of his absence from the communal dining room. Of course, with Jacob out of town and the others perhaps tucked away in their own houses, maybe Victor and Vincent dined alone.

Devlyn picked up his spoon and dug in, polishing off his bowl of soup and three rolls before Gillian had barely started. It was hard to swallow anything past the constriction in her throat, even though Devlyn was correct about the delicious, hearty broth. Finally, the silence weighed too heavily for her to finish. She pushed back from the table and folded her hands in her lap.

The fire was warm—warm enough for her to discard her sweater. But she fancied she needed the extra layer of protection. “You left me a note,” she said bluntly. “Why am I here?”

“I could have guessed you were a teacher, even if you hadn’t told me.”

The odd segue baffled her. “What does that mean?”

“You’re uptight, bossy, no-nonsense …”

“And you’ve deduced all that in a mere twenty-four hours?”

“Less than that. I expect any moment to get my knuckles rapped with a ruler.”

His air of masculine superiority set her teeth on edge. “That’s an archaic reference.”

“You don’t know the tutors my father and uncle hired.”

“Poor little rich boy.” She regretted the words immediately. In many ways, the appellation was true … or at least had been in the past. Devlyn Wolff as a child and a teen had always seemed angry. And with good reason. He’d lost his mother violently. Been snatched away from the only home he had ever known and brought to this isolated mountain. Had not been allowed to attend school where he would have made friends. It was no wonder the six cousins were so close.

She didn’t know how to characterize him now … that would require spending time together, a notion that alarmed and intrigued her at the same time. “We’re getting off topic,” she said, her voice firm … the one she used for recalcitrant boys on the playground. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

“I want to hire you.”

Her hackles went up. “You apologized. I accepted. I don’t need your charity simply because I’m unemployed.”

“Before you ride that high horse off into the sunset, why don’t you listen for a minute? I need to employ a teacher. It might as well be you.”

Her stomach cramped. Did Devlyn have a child she hadn’t heard about? “There are no schools anywhere near Wolff Mountain.”

He grinned as if he had scored a hit. “My point exactly. Evidently you haven’t heard, but the Wolffs are establishing a school in Burton.”

“Thumbing your nose at the locals? No one around here can afford private tuition.”

“Gillian, Gillian …” He shook his head. “I’m talking about a public school. And that’s why I need you. It’s a sticky proposition to make sure all of the accreditation requirements are fulfilled. And we’ve had a hell of a time convincing the administration that we’ll stay out of the day-to-day running. But this is going to happen. The children of Burton have every right to attend school in their own community.”

Gillian was stunned. What he said made perfect sense, but although the Wolffs were active in a number of charities, this project took benevolence to another whole level. “Whose idea was this?”

“It was a family decision. Too many of our staff worry that if one of their children gets sick, or falls on the playground, it would be a good forty-five minutes before they could get to the school. That’s not acceptable. The economy is in the toilet. Money for new schools is scarce. We have the means to supply a need.”

Gillian cocked her head, studying his face. He seemed genuinely excited and proud. “And you’re spearheading the effort?”

“Mostly. Because I’m the one in charge. But all of us will step in at various points. Kieran’s wife is a children’s illustrator. She’s planning to paint murals on all the walls. Jacob will design and outfit a small in-school clinic and hire a nurse. Gareth wants to build custom shelving for the library. I could go on …”

She held up a hand, feeling ashamed of her suspicions. On occasion, that chip on her shoulder about the rich gained weight again. “It’s a lovely idea. I’m impressed. But I still don’t see where I come in. It will be a long time until you’re ready to hire teachers.”

“I need a liaison … someone who will work side by side with me, but who knows how to communicate with state and local officials.”

“But you work out of Atlanta.”

“I’m here at least one weekend a month, sometimes two. Dad and Uncle Vic like to feel as if they are still part of the decision-making process. And I value their experience. But in regard to this school project, you’ll be my point person. We’ll work very closely together.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll do it.”

He named a salary that was over twice what she was making before the layoffs. Only a fool would turn down this opportunity, but then again, working with Devlyn Wolff would not be easy. He was charming and outrageously handsome and had a wicked sense of humor … all qualities that were destined to make a woman like Gillian fall into infatuation at the very least.

And she was pretty sure she wasn’t imagining the sexual vibe between them. What was alarming was that if she succumbed, not only did she endanger yet another good job, but she risked getting her heart broken. “Who would you have hired if I hadn’t come along?” It was hard to put her suspicions to rest.

“I hadn’t gotten that far yet, but I called your principal this morning, and she speaks very highly of you … told me you were named ‘Teacher of the Year’ in your school last year. She’s really upset about losing you.”

“You investigated me?” The words ended on a screech of outrage.

“Your ID badge was sticking out of the side pocket of your purse. I’m a businessman. And despite your weird hang-ups, I’m not offering you this job because of something that happened when we were kids.”

He could deny it all he wanted, but she was almost a hundred percent sure that Devlyn was the kind of man who needed to even the scales. This was his way of assuaging his guilt over the past.

Still, who was she to turn down a boon because of his screwed-up motives? She needed a job. And this would be a good one.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “When do I start?”

Five

Devlyn high-fived his inner self, but managed to maintain a neutral expression. This was exactly the same feeling he got when he outwitted a difficult opponent in a business deal. He didn’t probe too deeply at why it was so important to win over Gillian, but it was.

“You’ll need to move in here,” he said abruptly, thinking on his feet. The idea of having Gillian just down the hall made his pulse thud with anticipation.

She scowled, standing up and pacing with her arms wrapped around her waist. “That won’t be necessary. The commute is not inconvenient.”

“It’s not your convenience we’re talking about … it’s mine. I’m a very busy man. When I can snatch a few minutes to discuss the school project, I’d like for you to be available.”

Gillian’s spine straightened and her chin lifted. “So in essence, you’re hiring me to be at your beck and call.”

He wanted to chuckle aloud. She was pissed. And it was so much damned fun aggravating her. “Think of it more as a lawyer on retainer.”

Her eyes shot daggers at him. Fuming, frustrated, she seemed about to burst with aggravation. “I’m not sure I trust you.”

“You wound me.” He put his hand over his heart. “What exactly do you think I have up my sleeve?”

“I don’t know you well enough to tell.”

“I’d like to get to know you, Gillian.” He hadn’t meant to say that. The words tumbled out uncensored, but they were true. Something about her seemed so real, so honest. In his experience, those were qualities rarely found in female companionship. Gillian knew as much or more about him, warts and all, than most people did. And he had an inexplicable urge to win her approval.

But the devil in him couldn’t leave it alone. “I’ll have a driver out front in fifteen minutes to take you to your mother’s house so you can pack your things. I’d like you to be back on the mountain by five. I want to take you to see the property we’ve purchased … get your impressions.”

She sat back down abruptly and started eating soup. “I’m not finished with my lunch. Better make it forty-five.” She gave him a bland gaze that did little to disguise her intent. It was clear that she wouldn’t be pushed around.

The businessman in him applauded her chutzpah. The hungry male took it as a challenge. This give-and-take was foreplay whether she realized it or not. The circumstances weren’t ideal. He’d already made a list of “cons.” But if Gillian felt the same sexual pull he did, he’d figure a way around the difficulties. He wasn’t accustomed to denying himself when it came to women. Nothing permanent could come of this. He was not the pure, uncomplicated man Gillian needed for the long haul.

Devlyn Wolff, however, did temporary damned well. Gillian might try to hide her sexuality beneath generic clothing, but he could see the possibilities. And they excited him.

“Remember,” he said, “You’re agreeing to be here 24/7 anytime I’m in town. I want to get my money’s worth.”

Those big, beautiful eyes reflected shock and denial. “But you’re not home all that often.”

“At the moment, that’s true. So we’ll have to rely on emails and late night phone calls, won’t we?”

“Late night?” Her voice squeaked.

“Some days that’s the only time I can break free. Do you have a problem with that?”

She shredded a roll between her long, graceful fingers. “I don’t suppose so. But I’m not sure what my mother will think about all of this.”

“You’ve been on your own a long time, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

She pursed her lips as if she had bitten into a sour spice. “You have quite a reputation in regard to the opposite sex.”

“But ours is a business relationship. I’m sure your mother understands the difference.”

“I guess …” Her hesitance aroused him as he imagined what it would take to coax her into his bed. In the past six months his schedule had been brutal. Workaholic was an understatement.

Life was too short not to play when the occasion presented itself. And Gillian Carlyle, as reserved and wary as she was, promised to be endlessly entertaining.

He glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid I can’t drag this out any longer. I’m overdue for several phone calls. But I’ll expect you back here at five … right?”

She nodded her head slowly. “I’ll be here. You can count on it.”

Devlyn forced himself to leave the room. If he pushed too hard, she might decide to walk out, unemployed or not. And he couldn’t have that.

He found his father, Vincent, and his Uncle Vic in Victor’s study. Pipe smoke hung heavy in the air, and a chessboard sat between their armchairs, resting on a marble-topped table.

His father looked up when he entered. “Don’t distract us. This is a hell of a game.”

Devlyn took up residence on a sofa adjacent to the fireplace and pulled out his phone to begin working through emails. Soon he was immersed in the day-to-day operation of a global, multibillion dollar company. Some days it baffled him to realize the enormous enterprise he steered on behalf of the family. The responsibility was huge. But damned if he didn’t love it.

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