At His Service: Nanny Needed. Cara ColterЧитать онлайн книгу.
occurred to her she and Joshua were staying together, under the same roof. Why was it different from how staying under the same roof had been last night?
The cabin was smaller, for one thing, everything about it more intimate than the posh interior of Joshua’s apartment. This was a space that was real. The decades of laughter, of family, soaked right into the cozy atmosphere.
“This is our biggest cabin,” Michael said. “There’s two bedrooms down and the loft up. Sometimes the kids sleep on the porch on hot nights, though it’s not quite warm enough for that, yet.”
“How wonderful there’s a place left in the world where it’s safe enough for the kids to sleep out on an unlocked porch,” Dannie said.
Michael nodded. “My daughter and her kids usually take it for the whole summer, but—” He stopped abruptly and cleared his throat. “Dinner is at the main lodge. See you there around six. There’s always snacks available in the kitchen if you need something before then.”
And then he closed the door and left them.
Alone.
The cabin was more than quaint, it was as if it was a painting entitled Home. There were colorful Finnish rag rugs over plank flooring. An old couch, with large faded cabbage roses on the upholstery, dominated the living room decor. Inside, where the logs had not been exposed to the weather, they were golden, glowing with age and warmth. A river rock fireplace, the face blackened from use, had two rocking chairs painted bright sunshine yellow, in front of it.
Maybe it was that feeling of home that made her venture into very personal territory. Standing in this place, with him, made her feel connected to him, as if all the warmth and love of the families who had gathered in this place had infused it with a spirit of caring.
“I can’t believe I’ve worked for Melanie for months and didn’t know about your parents. I knew they had passed, but I didn’t know the circumstances.”
“It was a car accident. She doesn’t talk about it.”
“Do you?”
He shrugged. “We aren’t really talkers in our family.”
“Doers,” she guessed.
“You got it.” Without apology, almost with warning. No sympathy allowed. Don’t go there. To prove the point, he began exploring the cabin, and she could tell his assessment of the place was somewhat clinical, as if he was deliberately closing himself off to the whispers of its charm.
He was studying the window casings, which were showing slight signs of rot, scowling at the floors that looked decidedly splintery. He went up the stairs to the loft.
“I’ll take this room,” he called.
She knew she shouldn’t go up there, but she did. She went and stood behind him. The loft room was massive. The stone chimney from downstairs continued up the far wall, and there was another fireplace. A huge four-poster bed, antique, with a hand-crafted quilt took up the greater part of the space.
He was looking under the bed.
“Boogeymen?” she asked.
He hit his head pulling out from under the bed, surprised that she was up here. “Mice.”
The shabby romance of the place was obviously lost on him. “And?”
“Mouse free. Or cleaned recently.”
She was afraid of mice. He was afraid of caring. Maybe it was time for at least one of them to confront their fears.
“Joshua, I’m sorry about your parents. That must have been incredibly hard on you.” She said it even though he had let her know it was off-limits.
He went over and opened a closet door, peered in. She had a feeling he was already making architectural drawings, plans, notes.
“Thanks,” he said. “It was a long time ago.”
“What are your plans for this place?” she said, trying to respect his obvious desire not to go there. “If you acquire it?”
“I want to turn it into a Sun resort. So that means completely revamping the interiors of these cabins, if we kept them at all. Think posh hunting lodge, deep, distressed leather furniture, a bar, good art, bearskin rugs.”
She actually felt a sense of loss when he said that.
“For activities,” he continued, “overnight camping trips, rock climbing, hiking, a row of jet skis tied to a new wharf.”
She winced at that.
“Five-star dining in the main lodge, a lounge, some of the cabins with their own hot tubs.”
“Adult only?” She felt her heart sinking. How could he be so indifferent to what this place was meant to be?
“That’s what we do.”
“What a shame. This place is crying for families. It feels so empty without them.”
“Well, that’s not what Sun does.”
“Is it because of your own family?” she asked softly, having to say it, even if it did cross the boundaries in his eyes. “Is that why you cater to people who don’t have families around them? Because it’s too painful for you to go there?”
He stopped, came out of the closet, looked at her with deep irritation. “I don’t need to be psychoanalyzed. You sound like my sister.”
She had hit a nerve. She saw that. And she saw that he was right. Staying at his place, seeing him with the children, riding in his airplane, being alone in this cabin with him had all created a false sense of intimacy.
She was the nanny, the employee. She had no right to probe into his personal life. She had no right to think of him on a personal level.
But she already was! How did you backpedal from that?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Cole,” she said stiffly.
The remote look left his face immediately. He crossed the room to her, she was aware how much taller he was when he looked down at her.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. I can see it in your face.”
“I’m sure you’re imagining things.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Now you’re being too personal, Mr. Cole.”
He stared at her. “Are we having a fight?”
“I think so.” Though after what she’d grown up with, this wouldn’t even qualify as a squabble.
He started to laugh, and then surprisingly so did she, and the sudden tension between them dissipated, only to be replaced with a different kind of tension. Hot and aware. She could feel his breath on her cheek.
“Please don’t call me Mr. Cole again.”
“All right, Joshua.”
“Just for the record, I didn’t start running adult only resorts because of my parents.” For a moment there was a pain so great in his eyes she thought they would both drown in it.
It seemed like the most reasonable thing in the world to reach out and touch his cheek, to cup his jawline in her palm and to rest her fingertips along the hard plain of his cheekbones.
His cheek was beginning to be ever so slightly whisker roughened. His skin felt unexpectedly sensual, cool and taut, beneath the palm of her hand.
He leaned toward her. For a stunning moment she thought he was going to tell her something. Something important. Maybe even the most important thing about him.
And then, the veil came down in his eyes, and something dangerous stirred in that jade surface. He was going