The Maid's Daughter - S01 E05

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The Maid's Daughter - S01 E05

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 5

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 es-

sence, 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 com-

panionship. 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 hun-

gry male took it as a challenge. This give-and-take was fore-

play 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 cloth-

ing, 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 ex-

pect 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 fire-

place 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 baff led

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.

Finally, the game wound to an end. Uncle Vic stood up

and stretched. “I’m not too proud to say I need a nap. Didn’t

sleep worth crap last night. It’s a sad day when a man can’t

drink coffee at midnight anymore.”

Devlyn grinned. The two brothers were peas in a pod, al-

ways much alike in outlook, but bound together eternally by

the horrific experiences of their young wives’ deaths.

Neither had ever considered remarriage as far as Dev-

lyn could tell. They had devoted themselves to rearing their

combined six children far away from the limelight. It was a

testament to their love and generosity that several of those

children had returned to make Wolff Mountain their home.

Devlyn couldn’t imagine staying here permanently, but

at the moment, he was prepared to make some temporary

changes. After his dad refilled his pipe and gave a few puffs

that sent aromatic scent into the air, the old man perched on

the other end of the divan.

His skin was leathery from years spent in the sun, but his

dark eyes were as shrewd and sharp as ever. “What’s on your

mind, Devvie?”

The childish nickname didn’t bother Devlyn. He knew his

father respected him as an adult. He grinned. “What would

you think if I set up a more permanent office here…for the

next six months?”

His dad snorted. “You’re up to something. I’ve seen that

look a million times…starting with the first time you took

off your diaper and smeared poo on the walls.”

Devlyn winced. “For God’s sakes, old man. Can we please

not share that story? I’m almost thirty-one years old. It’s em-

barrassing.”

Vincent shrugged. “You’ll always be my kid. Which is

why I know you’re plotting something. Details, boy. Give

this old geezer a treat.”

Devlyn’s smile was wry. His father had the body of a much

younger man. He ate an extremely healthy diet, despite the

cigars. He was likely to live for another twenty years.

Devlyn grinned. “I just hired Gillian Carlyle to help us

with the school project.”

“The housekeeper’s daughter?”

For some reason, the tops of Devlyn’s ears got hot. “She’s

a fully certified teacher…comes highly recommended.”

“Then why is she free right now?”

“Layoffs. Not her fault.”

“Hmph.”

“What?” He hadn’t anticipated any guff about his decision.

“Are you thinking with your brain or your—”

“Hell, Dad.” Devlyn cut him off quickly. “Give me some

credit.”

“I’ve seen the woman. She may be a tad more restrained

in her clothing choices than your usual women, but there’s a

quiet beauty about her.”

It was a little weird to hear his father say aloud what Dev-

lyn had been thinking. “I’m hiring her for her expertise, not

her suitability as a girlfriend.”

“Then why move in here?”

Well, crap. The old man hasn’t lost it.

“Okay,” Devlyn admitted. “I don’t hate the idea of getting

to know her better. She’s a quirky little thing. But we really

do need her help. And we know she’s not going to steal the

silver or sell us out to the tabloids.”

The Wolffs had endured their share of sensational gossip-

rag stories. And outsiders were always an unknown quantity.

Which made Gillian appealing in another way entirely. She

was one of them in a sense.

His father stared a hole through him. “Who’ll be minding

the store in Atlanta?”

“A new kid. Well, new to management. I’ve been watching

him. He’s brilliant and driven. He lives for the job. I thought

this would be a good opportunity to see what he can do.”

“Okay, then. You have my blessing. And you know I’ll

enjoy having that ugly face of yours around.” Vincent Wolff

got to his feet. Devlyn rose out of respect and the two of them

embraced brief ly. It was awkward. Only in recent years had

his dad been able to openly express paternal affection.

The past held too many ghosts, too many secrets. But Dev-

lyn was all about the future.

Gillian was happy to find her mother home when she made

the trip back down the mountain. The little one-level house

where Gillian had grown up was as different from Wolff Cas-

tle as bologna from prime rib. But though genteelly shabby

and quietly dated, it was home.

Doreen Carlyle embraced her daughter, smelling of Jer-

gens lotion and fresh air. “Aunt Tina says hello. She wants

you to go down for a visit while you have some flexibility.”

“Welcome home.” Gillian hovered as her mother put away

three bags of groceries. For several years after Gillian’s father

died, Doreen had been a wraith, unable to imagine a world

without her high-school sweetheart. But gradually she had

returned to the world of the living, and Gillian would be for-

ever grateful for her mother’s resiliency.

Doreen hummed as she worked, a habit that used to annoy

her daughter as a teenager, but now seemed like the most

natural thing in the world. Gillian perched on a stool at the

counter. “Have you heard anything about the Wolffs build-

ing a school here in Burton?”

Her mother paused momentarily, her back to Gillian, and

then turned around, with a sheepish expression. “I heard about

it for the first time last week, but I didn’t want you to get your

hopes up. It will be a long time until they are ready to start

hiring teachers, honey.”

“Devlyn Wolff offered me a job today.”

Doreen sat down in a chair, a bag of sugar still clutched in

her hands. “How in the world did that happen?”

“It’s a long story. We ran into each other last night…I

mentioned that I was out of work, and he offered me the job.”

Doreen had a keen mother radar. “Gillian Elizabeth Car-

lyle. What have you done?”

“Nothing, Mama. I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“Those Wolffs are my bread-and-butter, but I wasn’t born

yesterday. Devlyn Wolff is a rascal. And a skirt chaser.”

“That’s not fair. He can’t help it if women pursue him be-

cause he’s rich and gorgeous.” Gillian found herself in the

strange position of defending the man she had sworn to hold

at arm’s length.

“So you think he’s gorgeous.”

Gillian felt her cheeks flush. “I think everybody would

agree on that.”

“Hmm…” Her mother’s assessing gaze appeared to see

right through to Gillian’s inherent ambivalence. It was thrill-

ing to have a job. And Devlyn Wolff would be a fascinating

boss. But the road ahead was booby-trapped with a thousand

potential heartbreaks.

“There’s one other thing…” She might as well get it over

with.

“What?” Doreen’s eyebrows rose, projecting alarm.

“He wants me to stay at the castle now and then…when

he’s there. So I’ll be on hand when he has time to deal with

the school project.”

“Gillian, Gillian, Gillian.” Doreen shook her head. “Do

you remember that guy who gave you an engagement ring

your sophomore year in college?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I tried to warn you that he was using you.”

“And I wouldn’t listen.” The boy had been far more inter-

ested in having Gillian cook for him and do his laundry than

anything else. The engagement had lasted a mere four months.

“You’re a grown woman now, entirely capable of mak-

ing your own mistakes. But you’re still my baby, and I still

worry about you.”

Doreen didn’t mention the other debacle, and Gillian was

grateful. In her first teaching job, the male principal had

shown a marked interest in what Gillian thought was

mentoring her. Unfortunately, the man had a reputation for inappro-

priate conduct with fresh-out-of-school young women. That

situation had ended up with a sexual harassment lawsuit in-

volving half a dozen new teachers.

Gillian had moved on to another school, but she had lost

confidence in her ability to spot liars and con men. She didn’t

really think Devlyn Wolff fell into either category. But he

was dangerous in an entirely different way. Devlyn’s charm

and knee-melting masculinity had the potential to make a fe-

male not care that he was leading her down the garden path.

A stint in Devlyn’s bed, no matter how brief, might ruin

a woman for other men. That alone should be the cautionary

tale to keep Gillian from doing something stupid.

She needed a job. Devlyn was prepared to pay her well for

her expertise as an educator. Even if he flirted with her—

and it seemed to be an inescapable facet of his personality—

there was no way Gillian would allow herself to get s----d

into believing that she was any more to him than a conve-

nient warm body.

Surely she had learned her lesson. And Devlyn was an

honorable man. He wouldn’t pull anything sleazy…she knew

that. The real danger was Gillian herself. All else aside, she

had to remember that despite political correctness, princes

didn’t form lasting relationships with scullery maids, at least

not in real life.

Gillian needed to meet a man who wanted what she

wanted. Home, family, ordinary happiness. If she kept that

in mind, all would be well.