The Maid's Daughter - S01 E11

Story 3 years ago

The Maid's Daughter - S01 E11

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 11

Gillian cried herself to sleep, loathing the fact that Devlyn

had reduced her to an emotional cliché. All night she slept

in fits and starts, waking to find herself in a strange bed,

and then reliving over and over the humiliating scene in the

library.

He’d ruined it for her…that wonderful room. Never again

would she be able to set foot inside it. Not without remembering

the look on his face. Did he think she was trying to trap

him somehow? Surely not. He had made his position very

clear. Only a madwoman would believe she had the power

to change him.

When the alarm went off just after dawn, she lay in bed,

trying to find the courage to face the day. She didn’t have

the luxury of flouncing out of the house in a huff. The income

from this job was not mad money, it was her livelihood…

at least for now. If she was lucky, some teacher in the

region would go on maternity leave at Christmas, and Gil-

lian might get to finish out the year. And perhaps next fall

things might be better.

None of that helped her now.

At eight on the nose, a polite maid brought coffee and

scones along with juice and assorted jams. Gillian thanked

her, uncomfortably aware that the young woman no doubt

knew and worked with Doreen. It shouldn’t matter, perhaps,

but it did.

After devouring the lovely breakfast, Gillian dressed in

a professional but understated outfit. A jacket and midcalflength

skirt, dark camel, with a silk blouse in a pumpkin-andgold

paisley print. Low-heeled, dressy boots in a neutral color

finished what she now thought of as armor.

When she was ready, she sat at the lovely mirrored vanity

and looked at herself objectively. The woman staring back

at her was neatly turned out, but unexceptional. Brown hair,

brown eyes, a small gap between her front teeth because her

mom had not been able to afford braces.

Her mouth was perhaps her best feature, nicely shaped

and usually smiling. The rest of her was ordinary. Like millions

of other females in the world, she was not model material,

but neither would her face scare children. And that was

okay. She’d never yearned to be a beauty queen…except for

once in seventh grade when she’d had a crush on a boy two

years older than she was.

When she’d had the temerity to profess her undying devotion,

he’d looked at her chest and told her that boys liked

boobs.

The experience had been both heartbreaking and instructive.

From then on out, she’d set her sights on more suitable

romantic liaisons. Until now…

Running a brush through her hair, she made the mistake of

thinking about Devlyn doing the same thing with a firm but

gentle touch on the night of her accident. It would be easier

if she didn’t like him so well…if she could write him off as

an insensitive jerk.

Glancing at her watch, she jumped up with a groan. The

next few hours would require every bit of maturity and composure

she possessed. She would not allow him to see how

much last night’s aborted encounter had upset her. He’d made

his decision. As far as anyone was concerned, Gillian was

working for the Wolff family, assisting them on a project.

Nothing more.

As she stepped out into the hall, she hesitated. Devlyn had

set a time for their meeting, but not dictated a place. Which

forced her to search out the gentleman who oversaw all the

staff and to inquire of him as to Devlyn’s whereabouts.

The stuffy but efficient majordomo led her to the solarium,

a lovely foliage-filled room with three glass walls that

brought the brilliant sunshine and autumn panorama inside

a warm and cozy enclosure.

Devlyn was there before her, a sheaf of architect’s renderings

spread out on a plain wooden table. Wearing dark slacks

and a long-sleeve oxford cloth shirt with the sleeves rolled

up, he looked casual, but professional. Gillian forced herself

to walk toward him and perch a hip on one of the stools that

flanked the work surface. “Is this the school?” Stupid, Gillian.

What else would he be showing you?

He lifted his head, his eyes searching her face. “Good

morning. How did you sleep?”

“Probably better than you.” She winced inwardly. Drawing

attention to their short-lived lovemaking wasn’t productive…

not at all.

His gaze was bland, as if he hadn’t understood her sarcastic

comment. But she could swear she saw his lips twitch with

silent humor. “Take a look,” he said. “See what you think.”

She was forced to lean over the table, uneasily aware that

he was far too close given the way things had ended the night

before. She could smell his aftershave. The brush of his arm

against hers made her shiver.

Marshaling all her concentration, she glanced down at the

drawings of the new school. It was an impressive layout and

far larger than she had expected. Though her brain didn’t necessarily

work in such a fashion, she tried to visualize what it

would all look like when it was finished.

Devlyn tapped a corner of the paper with a pencil. “Well,

what do you think?”

“It’s beautiful, of course.”

“But?”

“But what?”

He sighed. “I hired you to give us direction. You’re a

teacher. You’ve been in the trenches on a daily basis. Tell

me what’s missing…what needs to be changed.”

Devlyn was right. Her expertise was what he had hired her

to contribute. She nibbled her bottom lip. “Well…”

“Don’t be bashful. I need the truth.”

“In that case, I’d flip these two wings.” She pointed to a

section of the blueprints. “The low commodes are for the kindergartners,

but you have them situated as the farthest grade

from the lunchroom.”

Devlyn nodded, his sharp gaze already assessing, dissecting.

“What else?”

“If money is not an issue, it would be great to have a portico

over the front entrance, so that on rainy days car riders

could be loaded in the dry.”

“What about the buses?”

“Generally they come to the opposite side of the school.

But since you’ll have at least five or six loading all at once,

the best you can do is park them ‘nose in’ and make the overhang

extend past the door of the bus.”

She could almost see the wheels turning in his brain.

Devlyn erased a mark and jotted a note. “Next?”

“This is a sort of selfish request, but I don’t see a teachers’

lounge. Elementary faculty members seldom have time

to use one, but it’s nice to know it’s there. You’d want enough

room for several couches, a refrigerator, a microwave…and

a couple of lunch tables.”

“Would two tables be enough?”

“Yes. They’ll be rotating in and out…and probably with

only twenty-five or thirty minutes to eat. Less than that once

they drop the kids off in the lunchroom.”

Devlyn looked shocked. “Good lord. Are you telling me

that public-school teachers don’t get the traditional hour for

lunch?”

Gillian laughed out loud. “What a lovely idea, but no. Who

do you think would watch the classes?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Monitor people, maybe.”

“If you can work that out, you’ll have potential employees

lining up in droves.”

They studied the plans for another half hour, Devlyn firing

insightful questions at her, and Gillian offering suggestions

based on her experience. But suddenly, they both fell silent.

She moved unobtrusively to the right, trying to put space

between them. Even in the midst of a business discussion,

she was far too aware of him. But what he was thinking was

a mystery.

He glanced at his watch. “I want to show you the property.

But no helicopters this time,” he said hastily.

“Good to know. Otherwise I would have been forced to

resign on the spot.”

“What do you do when you fly?”

He seemed genuinely curious. So she was stymied as to

how to explain.

“I’ve never been in an airplane, Devlyn. So it hasn’t been

as issue.”

“That’s terrible,” he said. “Can’t your doctor give you

something for the vertigo?”

“It’s not a question of medication.”

“Then what? Is it that you can’t overcome the phobia?”

She looked down at the plans, anything to avoid his gaze.

Embarrassment flushed her throat and heated her cheeks. “It’s

the money, Devlyn. My father was a carpenter. My mother

is a housekeeper. I barely made it through school on scholarships

and a variety of minimum-wage jobs. I’ve never had

the opportunity to fly.”

He was stunned. And as embarrassed as she was. Clearly,

to a Wolff, it was difficult to imagine a life where remaining

earthbound was the norm. “I apologize,” he said stiffly. “I’m

usually not so obtuse.”

“I’m not offended. And truthfully, I’d love to travel someday.

When I have the opportunity.”

She could see him struggle. To be honest, she had wondered

if the reason he was reluctant to follow through with a

physical relationship was that he recognized the differences

in their circumstances. Perhaps he imagined that she would

expect expensive gifts…or even worse, thought that she would

try to extract money from him somehow.

The incident when he was eighteen surely impacted his

ability to trust. Especially when it came to women and his

wealth. No matter how she and Devlyn tried to ignore it,

there was a definite class difference. She was Cinderella to

his Prince Charming. Though she wasn’t the one employed

by the Wolff family in a service capacity—her mother was—

the stigma remained, at least in Gillian’s mind.

Devlyn rolled up the plans and slid them into a large tube.

“The architect is meeting us at the property in half an hour.

I’ll join you in the front foyer in ten minutes.”

Gillian scrambled after him, but he had already disappeared,

swallowed up by the enormous house. She darted to

her bedroom, grabbed her purse and a notebook and spent her

final two minutes trying to remember the most direct route

to the castle’s entrance.

It wasn’t a castle, not really, but it definitely qualified as

more than a mere house. Devlyn beat her to the rendezvous

point, his gaze moody as he cooled his heels.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m ready.”

Someone had brought the car around. She’d hoped to make

the trip in one of the roomy SUVs, a vehicle with plenty of

interior space. Instead, Devlyn had chosen to take the Aston

Martin again. She slid into the low, comfy seat and tried

to ignore the fact that his hard, masculine thigh was mere

inches away from hers. He was a big man. But the car suited

him somehow.

With a screech of gravel, they swung out of the drive and

onto the long road that twisted and turned for a good two

miles before reaching the highway below. The hands that

gripped the steering wheel were tanned and lightly dusted

with black hair. Remembering the image of those masculine

fingers, dark against her fair skin, caused Gillian’s breath

to hitch. She shifted nervously, feeling the interior shrink

even more.

Staring out the window, she searched for something to say.

“May I ask you a personal question?”

He shot her a sideways glance. “I suppose.”

“Was there a woman sometime in the past who tried to

sue you for paternity?”

His jaw was rigid, the cords in his neck standing out. “No.

What gave you that idea?”

Regretting her impulsive inquiry, she squirmed. His tone

warned her to step carefully. “It’s the baby thing. You’re so

adamant. It made me wonder.”

The sunny morning had changed without warning, heavy

cloud cover rolling in from the west. “I’ve never let any

woman have the power to put me in that position. So it hasn’t

been an issue.”

He wasn’t going to give her anything more than that. The

silence lengthened. It was almost a relief when heavy drops

of rain began to pelt the windshield. The noisy deluge masked

Gillian’s discomfort. How could she ever understand Devlyn

if he stonewalled her anytime a personal topic was broached?

On the surface, he was an extrovert…charming, affable, a

social animal.

But beneath the charismatic persona ran a vein of dark,

turbulent emotion.

She told herself it didn’t matter. Devlyn needed her skills

as a professional educator. Everything else would have to be

pushed aside if this arrangement was going to work. But she

didn’t know how to keep herself from falling for him.

The whole idea behind the new school was that it be built

very close to the tiny community of Burton. Consequently,

it didn’t take long to reach the parcel of land the Wolffs had

already acquired. A silver Porsche was parked on the side of

the road when they arrived.

Devlyn reached across Gillian’s lap and pulled a fold-up

umbrella out of the glove box. “Here,” he said. “Do you want

a rain jacket? I think I have one in the trunk.”

His face was so close to hers she could have leaned forward

a few inches and kissed him. She licked her lips. “No.

It’s not really cold. I’ll be fine.”

The car windows had fogged up almost instantly when he

cut the engine. Devlyn stared at her, his eyes stormy. The look

in them was unmistakable. He wanted her. “Gillian…I…”

She put her hand over his mouth, surprised at her daring.

“You don’t owe me any explanations, Devlyn. And just so

we’re clear on this, I’m a big girl. I’m not looking for a husband

this month…or even this year. So you’re in no danger.

I’ve done enough thinking. When you want me, all you have

to do is ask.”

Sitting back in her seat, she glanced out the window. “He’s

waiting for us. The architect.”

Devlyn cursed. “Let him wait.”

Slowly, as if trying to draw out the pleasure, he slid a hand

beneath her hair, cupping her neck and dragging her across

the console. “My leaving last night had nothing to do with not

wanting you.” His lips were cool but firm. His mouth moved

against hers as if he had never kissed a woman. The very innocence

of the caress made her crazy.

“Forget last night,” she muttered, trying to breathe. “All

I care about is today.” Tangling her fingers in his thick, soft

hair, she kissed him back.