Once in a Lifetime (5 page)

“You can open it,” Henry called to her, and she wondered why he hadn’t done that himself.

She flung the door open and gaped at the man who continued to stand there staring at her. “I’m Russ Harrington,” he said at last and brushed past her.

Forgetting that she was the housekeeper, she left the door ajar in a kind of reprimand and walked past him.

“Just a minute, miss. Where’s Drake?”

“Drake? I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“Then who’re…what’re you doing here?”

“I’m Alexis Stevenson, and I’m not visiting either one of your brothers. I’m the housekeeper.”

His lower lip dropped. “The
what?
”

“The housekeeper. Dinner’s at seven.” She walked off and left him wide-eyed and openmouthed.

She’d finally met a Harrington she wasn’t sure she liked, and she was almost certain that he wouldn’t like Tara.

“W
ell, I’ll be damned. If she’s a housekeeper, I’m William the Conqueror.” Russ walked into the kitchen hoping that Henry would enlighten him, but he wasn’t there. He moved up the stairs at a slow pace. Surely, Telford hadn’t lost his mind and hired that woman to… He stopped on the stairs, took out his cell phone and dialed Telford’s cell number.

He skipped the greeting. “Man, I just got home, and this woman who looked as if she was about to entertain the governor opened the door and told me she’s the housekeeper. Tell me she’s lying or that you’re having a little fun at my expense.”

“Henry’s getting too old to look after that big house, and the place needs more than a—”

Russ sucked in his breath and interrupted his older brother. “So what you’re telling me is the woman gliding around here in a long red getup is a housekeeper you hired. Have you lost your mind?”

“She’s competent. How’d it go in Barbados?’

“More or less as we thought. Five stories and a one-level
basement is the maximum, and don’t try to get me off the subject of this glamour girl who’s posing as a housekeeper.” The more he thought about losing his privacy, the madder he got. “I don’t care if she has a PhD in housekeeping, I’m not changing my life for her. You expect me to walk around here fully clothed, keep my room door closed and—”

“Give it a rest, Russ. She and I signed a two-year contract, and it’s binding. Besides, she not a housekeeper; the contract says she’s a homemaker.”

“Whatever. You could at least have hired somebody who
looked
like a housekeeper. Humph. Homemaker. I thought she was Drake’s latest conquest, and I think I upset her by acting as if she were.”

Telford’s whistle pierced his ears. “I’ll bet that rang her bell.”

“Did it ever. You should have seen how fast her back went up. Where are you right now?”

“I’m in Frederick.”

“Well, you’d better come here and straighten out this mess. Give her a big severance check. Anything. She’s got to go.”

“Not a chance, Russ. By the way, dinner is at seven; hat off in the house; no swearing; no loud voice; we all eat together; and we say grace at meals.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” He couldn’t believe the snicker he heard coming through the wire, but there it was again.

“New house rules. I’ll get in late tonight. See you.”

Russ stared at the dial tone. He was having none of it. After dumping his bags in a corner of his room and kicking off his shoes, he charged, barefooted, downstairs in search of anybody against whom he could release a little venom.

“Hello. What’s your name?”

He whirled around and banged his head against the antique chest that had stood in that spot in the hallway since before he was born. He was on his way out of his mind. He was certain of it.

“My name is Tara. Who’re you?”

He looked down at her and tried to collect his wits. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Maybe you’ll tell me who you are.”

“I already told you. Where’s Mr. Telford?”

“He’s…uh…out of town, but when he gets back here, you will definitely know it.”

“You want to see Biscuit?”

“Biscuit?”

“Biscuit is my little puppy. Mr. Henry gave him to me.”

He looked toward the ceiling and fought the urge to bare his teeth. Animals did not belong in a house, and especially not if he lived there. “Did he, now? Where’s your mother, Tara?”

To his surprise, she took his hand and smiled. “She’s around here.”

He’d been in a trance ever since he walked in the door, so he submitted to the eerie feeling that he might have lost his mind, allowed her to hold his hand and followed her.

“There you are, darling.”

He stopped and waited until Alexis reached him. “I assume this is your kid.”

“You assume wrong. She’s a little girl, my daughter.”

He ran his hand over his silky curls and regrouped. “Didn’t mean to be offensive, but this… Well, it’s unsettling at best. I don’t know what my brother was thinking about. With two females in this… This is a man’s preserve, and with you here, we’ll have to reinvent ourselves. This isn’t going to work.”

She folded her arms, as relaxed as if she were unaware of his annoyance. “You’ll hardly ever run into either one of us, and when you do, you’ll find you don’t mind it at all. We’ll see you at dinner. Come along, Tara.”

“Wait a second. Didn’t you understand me? I said this isn’t—”

This housekeeper had the temerity to interrupt him. “I heard you, but you want to quarrel with somebody.
Anybody
will do, but I never argue. We’ll see you at dinner. Seven o’clock.”

She took her daughter’s hand, turned and left him standing there.

Housekeeper, huh? Queen of Sheba was more like it. He went to the telephone in the hallway and dialed Henry’s cottage. When he didn’t get an answer, he dialed Henry’s room off the kitchen.

“Henry. I’m trying to sleep.”

“How are you, Henry? This is Russ. I came—”

“I know good and well who it is, and I still need my sleep.”

“And I need some answers. Where did Telford find Alexis Stevenson? How long’s she been here, and what about this little girl and this puppy? This is no place for grown men anymore.”

“No? Things musta changed since I was your age. She’s the housekeeper, and you needn’t raise a stink about Tara, ’cause she’s got your brothers in her pocket.”

“And you, too, I suppose.”

“Well, she
is
a right cute little tyke, and just as sweet as anything. Might as well get up, since you broke my rest. Supper’s at seven.”

Russ hung up and headed back to his room. An outsider in his own home.

Although she was off duty, Alexis set the table for dinner in the breakfast room. The sooner she got Russ Harrington off his high horse the better, though she suspected he’d resist change until a crisis forced him to be reasonable. She arranged the table with embroidered linen place mats, family-heirloom porcelain, silver and crystal goblets, flowers and lighted candles in silver candlesticks. She’d overdone it, but that was her way of declaring war. Her child deserved a peaceful, happy environment, not an atmosphere soured by Russ’s disgruntlement. She hoped Drake would be home for dinner, because the prospect of eating with Russ and only Tara as a buffer all but took her appetite.

At seven o’clock, she and Tara took their places at the table, and to her surprise, Russ joined them immediately. No one
had to tell her he wasn’t motivated by a spirit of cooperation. The man was anxious to strike back.

“What the… Is somebody getting married?”

“I eat at a properly set dinner table,” she said, smiling her best smile. “I try to make the home comfortable, a happy place.”

“You’re kidding. This looks as if you’re expecting the president, or some big shot’s getting married. I don’t call this comfortable.”

She looked at him and smiled, though she knew he was vexed. If he took pleasure in eating with them, he had to be the world’s best actor. He picked up his fork.

“You have to say grace first,” Tara told him. “My mummy always says it before we eat.”

Russ looked steadily at the child, but he didn’t say grace.

“Would you like to say it, Tara?” Alexis asked her daughter.

Tara offered a long, colorful supplication, and Alexis’s respect for Russ mounted with the minutes, for he didn’t attempt to stop her and didn’t begin eating until she finished. In fact, it was the sound of Telford’s voice that ended Tara’s grace; she would have dashed to greet him, if Alexis hadn’t restrained her.

“How’s everybody? Am I late?”

Russ stood, and the way in which they clasped each other tightly told her much about the Harrington men. In spite of Russ’s displeasure with Telford because he’d hired her, he greeted his brother with affection.

“You’re in time,” Alexis said. “We hadn’t started eating.”

“That’s because Tara here treated us to the longest grace I ever heard. I expect she’d still be at it, if you hadn’t walked in. Look, man, this is a hefty dose you’re pouring out.”

Telford ignored him. “Be back as soon as I wash up. That’s another thing. Our homemaker says no dirty hands at the table.” She glimpsed the twinkle in his eye and realized that he enjoyed jostling with Russ.

“Put a lid on it,” Russ said, reaching for his fork. “Who taught you to say grace?” he asked Tara.

“My mummy. Is Mr. Telford coming back?”

He helped himself to a broiled hamburger, tasted it and grimaced. “Henry’s losing it,” he said in reference to the hamburger, then looked at Alexis. “Is she stuck on Telford? What’s Drake’s reaction to this?”

“He graciously capitulated.”

“Hmmm.”

She nearly sighed in relief when Telford sat down, but she knew at once that Russ intended to press for her dismissal when he said, “I’m going to speak to Henry about these meals. And you’ve got a lot to account for, brother.”

“Not till after I eat,” Telford said. He spoke in a gentle tone, but she knew, and she didn’t doubt that Russ knew, that Telford meant what he said.

“How’s Biscuit?” he asked Tara, signaling to Russ that the matter of Alexis’s status was closed for the moment.

As if she’d been waiting for him to acknowledge her presence, Tara’s face bloomed into a smile. “He’s asleep. I fed him like you said.” She looked at Russ. “His name is Biscuit ’cause Mr. Telford likes biscuits.”

A half smile flashed briefly across Russ’s mouth. “In that case, I’m surprised you didn’t name him sausage. Or maybe grits.”

“Lay off, Russ,” Telford said. He looked at Tara. “We’ll have to get him a real puppy bed. I’ll speak to Henry about it.”

Telford had spoken directly to Tara and to his brother, but he hadn’t said a word especially to Alexis; indeed, he hadn’t let his gaze connect with hers.

Tara thanked him and blessed him with one of her most brilliant smiles. Alexis watched in amazement when Telford smiled lovingly at her daughter. She didn’t know what to think. It was as if he wanted her to know that he didn’t welcome the intrusion, but wouldn’t punish the child because of it. Yet… Lost in her thoughts, she lifted the large Waterford crystal pitcher of iced tea and would have spilled it if Telford hadn’t
reached across the table and grabbed it. He looked at her then, filled her glass and handed it to her.

“Maybe we should use smaller pitchers. This one’s heavy.”

“Come now,” Russ said. “You don’t mind doing it for her, do you?”

“You’re way out of line, Russ. You want to say something to me, save it for later. And lay off Alexis.”

Her gaze flew to Russ. She hadn’t detected any animosity or hostility in his voice, but Telford took offense. She wanted to go back to her room, but she couldn’t think of a way to do that without giving the impression that Russ had displeased her. Tara yawned, giving her the perfect excuse.

“You can’t go yet,” Telford said when she took Tara’s hand and attempted to leave the table. “I brought Tara some black-cherry ice cream.” He got up to go to the kitchen and stopped beside Tara. “Henry said you like it.”

Tara removed her hands from her mouth, where she’d clasped them to prevent herself from squealing, and laughed. “I love it.”

“I’m bringing it,” Henry said. “You should’ve bought some cake, Tel. Black-cherry ice cream without cake is as bad as bread with no butter.” He gave Tara a dish containing five scoops.

“You didn’t tell me she liked cake.”

“You bought
ice cream?
” Russ asked, his face the picture of incredulity. “And you practically gave her the whole half gallon,” he said to Henry, who stood by waiting to see her eat it. “Are you trying to kill her?”

Alexis raised her head and glanced at Telford with the intention of thanking him for bringing Tara’s favorite ice cream, but she couldn’t utter a word, only trembled with excitement when she saw the naked desire blazing in his eyes. She glanced past Telford to the knowing look on Russ’s face. Telford hooded his eyes, but she knew she hadn’t imagined it for she had responded to him from the depth of her being.

Still, she was glad for Russ’s presence, because she wouldn’t
have bet on what might have happened if she and Telford had been alone at that moment. He generated a warmth, a sweetness that wove him into her like an artist’s needles subduing yarn. The tremble of his bottom lip titillated her woman’s need, shortening her breathing, and he saw it. She knew he did; nothing else would account for the fire of passion that leaped back into his gaze. She had no defense against the primal need that she saw in him. Everything about him beckoned her and claimed her, and she couldn’t help shifting in her chair as his heat singed her. With her eyes closed to banish from her presence the man who tantalized her, who represented the living embodiment of temptation…and maybe ruin, she struggled for composure. What had she gotten herself into?

“I turned the floodlights on out back,” Henry said, making Telford aware that he and Alexis were not alone. “But the one near the guest room didn’t come on. Wouldn’t matter, if it wasn’t for Tara and Alexis. The light might make ’em feel more comfortable.”

“I’ll have a look at it. Could be the fuse.” Any reason to focus on something other than the woman in front of him.

But Russ clearly had other concerns and didn’t hesitate to express them. “When are we going to talk, Telford?”

He narrowed his eyes. If his brother meant to be troublesome about Alexis and Tara, he wouldn’t tolerate it. A contract—whether by word of mouth or in writing—was binding. “About Frenchman’s Village in Barbados, or about…things here?”

“Things here. We can talk about the village when Drake gets back. Where is he?”

“In Philadelphia. He thinks we need lighter-weight material for the top six floors of the Griffith-Joyner houses, and he’s testing some products. I’m going to check on that light.”

“Can I go, too, Mr. Telford?”

When she ran to him and took his hand, her little brown face shimmering with delight, her smile said,
I think you’re wonderful, extra special.
And though he tried to resist her, joy pervaded his whole being. Before he stopped to consider his
action and what it implied, he swung her up on his shoulders, braced her hands on his head and gave the laughing little girl the ride of her life as he strode swiftly to the room she shared with her mother.