The Maid's Daughter - S01 E06

Story 3 years ago

The Maid's Daughter - S01 E06

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 6

Devlyn found himself pacing the foyer at a quarter till five.

What if she didn’t come? He had rescheduled a late dinner

with his investor from the night before, but in the meantime

he had just enough of a window to take Gillian to see the

land for the school.

The fact that he was anticipating her arrival with such emo-

tion brought him up short. He knew himself fairly well, knew

his tendencies to coddle women, to look after them. He’d been

doing it with his sister, Annalise, since she was an infant in

the cradle. Devlyn had been her protector, her white knight.

But he and his sibling had clashed during her late teenage

years. Annalise was headstrong, and at that point in her life

didn’t take kindly to her brother interfering. Fortunately the

two of them had mended fences a long time ago. His sister

was one of his best friends.

With other women in his life—at least the ones he was

attracted to—he’d never been able to maintain a platonic re-

lationship. He was pretty sure he didn’t want Gillian to be

the first test case.

The front door opened abruptly, and Gillian burst through.

Her expression was not exactly sweetness and light.

Grumpy

might be the word for it.

She set her overnight case on the floor. “Why am I here

when you could have picked me up at my house and saved

me a trip up the mountain?”

He grinned. “We’re going to

do an aerial reconnaissance

first.”

Her face went green. “Um, no. I don’t do flying things.”

“Come on, Gillian. It will be fun, I swear. And besides,

you don’t want me to dock your first paycheck already. You’re

on the clock…remember?”

“I think I may possibly hate you.” Her glare might have

intimidated another man. Devlyn took it as a challenge.

He laughed out loud, putting a hand beneath her elbow

and escorting her out a side door and through the woods up

to the helipad. “Climb in,” he said cheerfully. Everyone was

timid about being in a helicopter at first. But give her a few

minutes airborne, seeing the verdant Virginia countryside

from an eagle’s eye view, and she’d be entranced.

Ten minutes into the flight Gillian had her head inside a

barf bag. Losing her lunch…literally. The pitiful moan that

reached Devlyn’s ears made his stomach curl with guilt. How

was he supposed to know she was serious? Did the woman

never travel?

He stroked her hair tentatively, wincing every time she

retched. “How about some water…that might help.”

She shoved his hand away and threw up again.

Devlyn ripped off his headset and scuttled forward to

crouch beside the pilot. “Land the d--n chopper. Now.”

The man looked at him incredulously. They were skim-

ming over a thick forest. “It will be a few minutes.”

“As quickly as you can.” In the back of his mind lurked

the knowledge that he was going to miss another shot at his

investor. But circumstances were beyond his control.

Devlyn strapped himself back into his seat and rubbed Gil-

lian’s hair. He’d made some dumb-ass mistakes in his life,

but this was near the top of his list. Was he destined to make

Gillian Carlyle miserable?

After what seemed like hours, but must have been only

five minutes or so, the helicopter floated to the ground, land-

ing with a gentle thump in an overgrown field.

The chopper pilot gazed at Devlyn inquiringly. “You want

me to wait until she feels better?”

Devlyn glanced at Gillian, who was huddled in her seat,

eyes closed, face paper-white. “Not gonna happen. Head back

to the castle. Tell them where we are. Send a car for us and a

second driver to take both of them back.”

While Devlyn helped Gillian out onto steady ground, the

pilot gathered up a container of snacks and drinks, a thick

canvas tarp lined on one side with reflective material and a

another thinner, softer blanket. He stared at Devlyn in con-

fusion. “We traveled as the crow flies, but it’s going to be a

half hour at least before someone drives here from the castle.

Are you sure she’ll be okay?”

Devlyn, his eyes on Gillian’s wobbly stance, shrugged.

“Don’t have much choice. I’m not putting her back in that

chopper. Hurry, man. As fast as you can.”

After waiting for Devlyn and Gillian to move away to a

safe distance, the pilot revved up the engine and lifted sky-

ward. The wind wash from the rotors sent Gillian’s hair fly-

ing in a halo around her head.

Silence fell, and Devlyn spread the tarp rapidly. “Sit

down,” he commanded. “You look like you’re going faint.”

“I need my purse,” she said, her voice little more than a

thread.

He stared down at the giant, black leather tote the pilot had

left behind along with the few supplies. “What for?”

“Toothpaste.” She swayed, going at least two shades whiter.

He grabbed her just as her knees gave out. “Easy. I’ve

got you.”

She curled into a fetal position, and he covered her with

the thin fleece blanket. Her arm outstretched, she pointed.

“I’ve got toothpaste in there.”

With a sigh for her stubbornness, he rummaged in her

things until he located a travel-size toothbrush and tooth-

paste. She also had hand wipes, baby lotion, tampons, two

maps and an assortment of other odd

necessities.

“Here,” he said, holding out what she had asked for.

“Water bottle.”

He watched, incredulous, as she scuttled to the edge of

the tarp, opened the bottle and proceeded to brush her teeth,

spitting into the grass. “I would have thought about kissing

you anyway,” he said, sitting back on his haunches until she

finished.

That made her head whip up, her gaze wary as she wiped

her mouth. “Don’t be ridiculous. I could sue your family for

sexual harassment and drag the Wolff reputation through the

dirt.” A raw throat made her voice husky.

“But you wouldn’t. I know that and you know that. Come

here, little schoolmarm. Let me hold you.”

It was a testament to her misery that she didn’t fight him.

The sun was getting low, and the October day was cool and

windy. They lay side by side on the tarp. Devlyn spooned her,

tucking the blanket over and around them, his arm around

her waist.

Gillian’s fuzzy lavender sweater and gauzy print skirt in

matching shades suited her. Her mostly straight hair tumbled

across her face. He nuzzled her cheek with his. “I’m sorry,”

he said. “I’m going to listen to you from now on.”

Her muffled laugh indicated disbelief. He drew her closer.

“It’s true. I shouldn’t have bullied you.”

“Why did you hire me?” she asked, the words almost in-

audible. “The truth, please.”

Where her bottom nestled against the cradle of his thighs,

he was hard, aching. Every time he got close to her, his body

went on high alert. It was disconcerting as hell. And inex-

plicable.

“I need an education professional to oversee details that

are not my area of expertise.”

“And you felt guilty because you were mean to me as a

child and I was unemployed.”

He stirred uneasily. “Okay…maybe. But that wasn’t the

primary reason.”

“And you’ve been flirting with me. Explain that.”

He concentrated on the pain from a rock that lay some-

where beneath his hip. “I like you,” he said, unwilling or un-

able to expand upon that theme.

“Do you hit on every woman you meet?”

“Only the ones I want to take to bed.”

She rolled onto her back without warning, shaded her eyes

with one hand and stared at him. “Why me?”

“Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t have an answer,” he growled, wondering why in

the hell women had this insatiable need to pick everything

apart. “Are you feeling any better?” Perhaps if he distracted

her, she would change the subject.

“As long as you don’t make me stand up anytime soon, I

might live.”

“There are lots of things we could do lying down.”

“You are such a guy.”

“Is that an actual complaint?” He touched her belly, just

beneath the swell of her breasts. “I like you, Gillian Carlyle.”

Her teeth mutilated her bottom lip. “No offense, but you’re

not really my type.”

“And what is your type?” The scent of her shampoo was

making him hungry. They were lying in the middle of some

farmer’s field, and all he could think about was lifting that

fluffy, frilly skirt and taking her wildly.

“I want to get married.”

Five simple words blunted his ardor.

“And I want to have children.”

He removed his hand. “Is the biological clock that loud?”

She scooted to her side, leaned on an elbow and propped

her head on her hand. Now they were facing each other. “It’s

a fairly normal goal for a woman my age. And you are clearly

not a candidate for domestic bliss.”

“What’s wrong with a little recreational sex in the mean-

time?”

“You’re like a hot fudge sundae,” she said, a tiny frown

creasing her brow. “They’re a great treat on occasion, but if

you’re going to eat ice cream every day, vanilla is a much bet-

ter choice. It’s easy to get burned out on hot fudge.”

“I’m sure such convoluted reasoning makes sense to you,

but now all I can think about is licking chocolate sauce off

your—”

She put a hand over his mouth. “Behave. You don’t really

want to do this.”

“Oh, but I do.” He licked her fingers, and her little

oh

of

surprise hit him straight in the gut.

Instead of moving away, she stared at him. And he could

swear that somewhere in those deep brown eyes lurked a

snippet of interest.

She sighed. “Have you ever had a single serious relation-

ship in your life?”

Perhaps she expected him to lie, but something about Gil-

lian Carlyle made him want to be a better man. Starting with

honesty. “No. Not really. And you?”

“A couple of false starts. But at least I believe in the con-

cept.”

“You’re talking about love.”

“Yes. And commitment.”

“I’m not domesticated,” he said. “I don’t need dirty dia-

pers and 3:00 a.m. feedings to be happy.”

“But sex can make you happy?”

“I like to live in the moment. The future holds no guaran-

tees. So, yes…on occasion, sex makes me happy.”

He had her there. Saw it in her face. He reached out a hand

and caressed her cheek.

“I’ve known you for years, Gillian. But I don’t really

know

you. I’d like to change that.”

“Why are you doing this?”

He’d never had a woman question his motives so deeply.

“I’m not really sure. I’ve learned to rely on my instincts,

though. They’ve served me well in business.”

“And in your personal life?”

He shrugged. “I’ve made a misstep here and there. But

don’t we all when it comes to sex?”

“Not all of us take the smorgasbord approach. I’ve been

with two men in my life, Devlyn. Can you even count yours

with both hands and feet?”

“I don’t sleep with men.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass. You know what I mean.”

He should be angry. No other person of his acquaintance,

male or female, would have the balls to cross-examine him

about his sex life. But somehow he felt obligated to give Gil-

lian the unvarnished truth. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m a smart woman.”

Her steady gaze studied him and found him wanting. He

rolled to his back and tucked his hands behind his head. The

October sky was so blue, it seemed unreal. At the far edge

of the field a row of sugar maples flamed, red and orange,

against an azure backdrop.

“You know that my father and my uncle didn’t allow any

of us to go to school.”

“Yes.”

“We were scarcely allowed off the property…and then

only with bodyguards. For a h---y teenage guy, it was hell.

I dreamed about girls all the time.”

“It must have been a strange sort of adolescence.”

He laughed without amusement. “You could say that. The

only way we were allowed to go away to college was if we

used assumed names and swore never to tell a soul who we

really were.”

“I imagine that created a lot of difficult situations.”

“Yeah. Ask Kieran sometime what it did to him. But any-

way, I had decided that as soon as I got on campus I was going

to screw the first girl who gave me a chance.”

“And did you?”

His throat tight, he debated what he was about to say. No

one knew this, not even his brother and sister. He couldn’t

look at Gillian, so he stared up at the sky.

Finally, he stumbled over the first few words. “The summer

before I left home, my dad and Uncle Vic hired a husband/wife

team to update the landscaping at the castle. The new em-

ployees were both in their early thirties, a young couple try-

ing to run their own business and make a living. The woman

was beautiful. And since she was working outside in the heat,

she wore little shorts and halter tops…”

He swallowed, still able to see her even now. “I was ob-

sessed with watching her. One day I was up in my bedroom

with the window open. I heard the two of them arguing. And

I saw him backhand her so hard she fell to her knees.”

“Oh, Devlyn…”

“I flew down the stairs, ran outside, but he had disap-

peared. I really believe that if he had still been there I would

have beaten him up. Hitting a woman… God, even I, green

as I was, knew it was wrong.”

“What did you do?”

“She was crying, almost hysterical. I tried to talk to her,

but she was embarrassed. There was a big red mark on her

cheek, and she didn’t want anyone to see. I suggested taking

a walk in the woods so she could calm down.”

“And she agreed?”

“Yes. We were gone for a long time. I showed her the cave.

I was so proud to be able to help her. I could tell that she was

happy I was with her. We sat down near the entrance, you

know, just cross-legged in the dirt. She told me that she was

going to divorce him…that it wasn’t the first time he had hit

her. But she was worried about money. I don’t know what

made me do it, but I put my arm around her and told her that

I would help her.”

He felt Gillian’s hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to

tell me this,” she whispered.

It was too late to stop now. Reliving it all made his stom-

ach hurt. “I know I was naive, but I told her I had money of

my own. In my room. That it wouldn’t be a loan. She could

have it, no questions asked.”

“What did she say?”

“She started crying again. And then she kissed me.”