Deni suspected that’s what Meredith said to the child. Probably too often. “No. I think I’ve had a bit too much private time this weekend. I’d love some company.” She pushed the bowl of strawberries closer. “Would you like some strawberries?”
The girl eyed the berries with obvious yearning. “I’m not allowed to eat strawberries,” she whispered, but there was longing in her voice. “I might get juice on my dress.”
Deni looked at the girl’s pretty dress, twisting her mouth slightly as if she were trying to figure something out. “Well, I suppose that is a possibility.” She picked up one of the berries and bit into it. “But these berries are so good, they might be worth it.”
The girl watched in fascination, stepping closer. She really was a beautiful child, if a bit too clean. Children should be exploring and having fun, running around, jumping and getting dirty. At least, that’s what Deni had done as a child.
“Why don’t you use this napkin to cover your pretty dress while you eat some strawberries?” Deni suggested. “They are very good for you. And your cook has discovered a way to find only the sweet strawberries. I’ve been eating them with my coffee all morning and I haven’t had a sour one yet.”
Chloe stepped closer, obviously eager to try the “dangerous” fruit. “But if I get some on my dress…”
Deni smiled gently. “If you get some on your dress, then I will help you change into something else so that no one will know. Would that be okay?”
Obviously, Chloe thought it was a wonderful plan and she stepped closer, carefully sliding onto the chair next to Deni. The girl took one of the napkins, draping it over her chest, just to be extra careful. As soon as the child bit into the ripe berry, her eyes widened in shock.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Deni offered.
“Yes.” She popped the rest into her mouth, chewing carefully.
“Would you like another?” Deni asked, pushing the bowl of strawberries closer.
“Where’s Jenny?” Chloe asked, her eyes darting to the bowl of strawberries, then back to Deni.
“Jenny got really sick last night.”
The five year old girl’s eyes widened. “The date?” she whispered.
Deni nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately, the sushi Jenny and her date had last night wasn’t good. She had a really bad tummy ache this morning.”
Chloe’s grey eyes shifting from Deni to the bowl of berries, but nothing else about her skinny, tiny body moved. It was as if she were pretending to be a doll or a statue. It was very odd.
“When will my father be home?” she asked softly.
Deni’s heart ached. She knew that Sebastian spent most of his time with his daughter. He came home from the bank at seven o’clock every night and spent the next hour and a half with her. He’d also spent as much time on the weekends with her. She’d even heard them in the pool, swimming together. Sebastian was giving his daughter swimming lessons and trying to get the beautiful child to laugh. But Chloe never laughed. As far as Deni could tell, the child never even smiled.
“Unfortunately, he had meetings today.” When the child’s face didn’t move in any way, Deni knew she’d have to do something. “And I have to go over to my father’s house this morning. But I have an idea, if you’re up for an adventure.”
Chloe didn’t move. There wasn’t even any interest in the child’s eyes. “What?”
“Would you like to come with me? My father is a very nice man, but he’s an absolutely horrible cook. I go over to his house on Sundays to cook him meals for the week and just to visit.”
“Why can’t he cook?”
Deni laughed. “Because my mother used to do all of the cooking.”
The child’s grey eyes barely blinked. “Why doesn’t she do it now?”
Good question, and something that Deni didn’t like to talk about. “Well, my mother died several months ago. I suspect that my father doesn’t like to cook because he’s sad about her being gone. They used to have a lot of fun in the kitchen when she cooked.”
“Fun?” Chloe asked. “I watch my daddy cook sometimes,” she admitted. “He mutters a lot.” The girl looked far too serious for her age. “Cooking doesn’t seem very fun.”
Deni laughed, although the sound seemed a bit stiff. “Cooking is loads of fun. I remember sitting at the kitchen table growing up and my mother would be trying to get dinner out of the oven. My dad would come home and he’d take her into his arms, then dance her around the room. She’d laugh and try to get out of his arms, but she was usually laughing too hard to be serious about trying to get back to her cooking.”
Chloe’s eyes widened. “He danced with her?” she whispered, leaning forward ever so slightly. “In the kitchen?” she continued, finishing the word as if it were a gasp.
“Yes!” Deni replied, smiling at the memory. “He loved to dance. When my mom finally got out of his arms, he’d usually come over to me, lift me into his arms, and dance with me. But I was much shorter and he’d have to lift me up into the air. He’d swing me around, left and right, sometimes even upside down and I’d giggle until my stomach hurt.”
Chloe didn’t smile. She simply stared at Deni, solemnly taking in the story as if memorizing it.
“So that’s why I think my dad can’t cook for himself. Because of those fun memories.” Deni bit her lip, pausing before she continued. “Would you do me a favor?”
Chloe didn’t move, didn’t respond. She looked at Deni, silently granting permission for Deni to continue.
“Would you come with me today to help me cook for my dad?”
Chloe leaned forward slightly. “But…he’s not my father.”
Deni tilted her head slightly. “Technically, my father is your step-grandfather. And a step-granddaughter is even more important than a daughter.” Chloe leaned forward a bit more. “I promise to have you back home by the time your father finishes with his meetings.”
Chloe thought about it for a moment, still and contemplative. Then she nodded. “Okay. As long as your father won’t mind a child being in his house,” she replied with a politeness that was unheard of in a five year old.
“I think that my father would appreciate your company more than you realize,” Deni told the child honestly.
After encouraging Chloe to eat more strawberries, they went up and changed clothes. In the deep recesses of her closet, Deni found a pair of jeans. They still had the tags on them, and Chloe warily pulled them on. Next, they found a pretty sweater and Deni pulled the girl’s hair into a pony tail and they were ready!
Sebastian’s chauffer drove them over to her father’s house, Deni not having a child seat in her car. When they pulled up outside, her father stepped out of the house, forewarned by Deni’s texts that Chloe was coming with her.
“Hello!” he called, and Deni almost cried at seeing her father’s previously worn out features wreathed in a smile of greeting. He even bent down on his knee in order to greet Chloe. “Hello, pretty girl,” he said to Chloe. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I understand that you are a very good cook and you are going to make me cookies today!”
Chloe’s worried eyes moved to Deni, confused.
Deni rolled her eyes. “No Dad. We’re not making you cookies. We’re making you Brussel sprouts,” she warned, naming her father’s most hated vegetable.
Mark made a face and Chloe’s worried eyes glanced at Deni again.
A moment later, they all marched into the house. Deni tried to get the chauffeur to come and join them, but he refused, preferring to stay outside in his formal attire.
For the next several hours, Deni cooked while Mark and Chloe sat at the kitchen table. Mark taught Chloe how to play “Go-Fish” and lost repeatedly to the adorable girl. At one point, she even smiled ever so slightly!
On the drive back to Chloe’s house, she stared out the window. It had been a warm and happy afternoon, although Chloe hadn’t smiled. Not even once.
“Are you okay, honey?” Deni asked.
C
hloe continued to stare out the window, her features doing that expressionless thing that her father had perfected.
“He didn’t dance,” she whispered.
Deni saw Chloe’s lip quiver and Deni’s heart ached for the lonely child.
“I suspect that my father didn’t want to insult you by dancing with you, honey,” she explained.
Chloe simply continued to stare out the window.
Chapter 8
“What are you doing here?”
It was Thursday morning and Deni was at work, still upset that she hadn’t gotten Chloe to smile on Sunday. Jenny was back to good health and caring for the child until Sebastian arrived home in the evening, so Deni had no more contact with her.
She was back to lonely meals by herself every morning and night. And because she couldn’t talk to her friends about this farce of a marriage, Deni hadn’t met with Carly, Charlotte, or Jessa in too long. She was miserable, angry, and more than ready for a fight!
Sebastian happened to step into her office at just the wrong moment.
Deni looked up from her computer, blinking to focus on the tall man standing in her doorway, more than ready to take him on, despite the intimidating scowl on his handsome features. She suspected that caution was probably warranted, even though she had the crazy urge to poke the bear. Probably dangerous, she warned herself sternly. Bears bite. Bears roar.
And yet…
“I’m working,” she snapped before she could come up with a sarcastic response that might get her fired. She might be married to the man, living under his roof, but he was still the boss’ boss’ boss…or whatever.
He stood there for another moment and it took all of her concentration not to fidget uncomfortably under his intense, grey stare.
“Why?” he finally demanded.
She watched, oddly fascinated by the straining fabric when he crossed his arms over his chest. His arms were bigger than she would have thought, considering the man sat in an office for hours on end. Still, he probably wasn’t as buff as the stretched material implied.
“Because I have work to do,” she told him, her chin lifting slightly. She told herself it wasn’t a defiant gesture, but she was feeling pretty defiant right at the moment. If he was going to fire her, Deni was going to fight that. She’d only agreed to marry the man and live in his ugly, horrible house in return for getting her father out of debt. At no point had he added in a clause that she’d have to stop working.
Although, staring at his arrogant self at the moment, she could picture him demanding that. Because he was a jerk.
A good looking jerk. A jerk that seemed to have a few more muscles than an office-jerk should have.
But still a jerk.
His eyes narrowed at her tone. Or maybe it was because she was glaring right back at him. She didn’t care. She was sick of this terror she had for the man. And sick of being jerked around. Her mother had passed away a bit more than six months ago. Her father had lost his job and almost lost his house. Time for action. Even if that action seemed small and petty.
Nope, she didn’t give a damn!
“Why do you…?”
A challenging lift of her eyebrows caused him to press his lips together. In a whisper, she leaned closer. “Sir, you realize that I work in a small office and my colleagues that are working late are listening intently to whatever you might ask of me?”
Instantly, Sebastian pulled back and looked around. Sure enough, several of her co-workers quickly pulled their heads back into their own offices, pretending not to have heard anything. But Deni was sure that they were all listening, eager to hear what might happen next. “In my office. Now!” he snapped.
Deni watched him walk down the hallway, suspecting that she should follow him immediately. He probably wanted her to cower. But nope. She wasn’t going to do that either. Nor was she going to jump at his snappish tone. She was working, for goodness sake! Deni was doing bank business! There was absolutely no reason he should be so snappish!
So, why did she feel as if she should cower?!
Yeah, he was the boss. The head honcho. The big cahoona. But she wasn’t going to cower!
Saving the file she’d been working on before he’d interrupted her, she stood up, smoothed her dress down, and thought about stepping into the restroom for a moment, just to touch up her lipstick, or maybe run a brush through her hair. Then she realized where her mind had gone. Good grief! The man barely even knew that she lived in his house. So, why would she even think about looking nice for him?! Nope, she refused to fluff her hair or touch up her appearance.
Although, delaying might serve to irritate him further. And…she smiled at her next thought…irritating him might make her feel better.
Instead, she walked down the hallway at a leisurely pace.
When she turned the corner, she realized that he was waiting for her at the elevator. Yikes! She hadn’t thought about that, Deni realized. A small elevator with just the two of them. She looked behind her, praying that someone else would come around the corner. Someone important enough to need to ride up the several flights in the small, wooden box to the executive floors.
Unfortunately, no one appeared.
Deni turned to look up at the man, surprised that he was staring right back at her.
“Don’t say another word,” he snapped as she opened her mouth. She wasn’t completely sure what she might say, but it was probably something along the lines of an apology for being so snarky moments before.
But at his unjustified tone, she closed her mouth, the apology dissipating.
The elevator doors opened and she warily stepped inside. Once the doors closed again, she was shocked by the instantaneous and intense tension that seemed to increase right along with the elevator as it ascended to the top floor.
She almost sighed with relief when the doors opened. But then he put his hand on the open doorway, pulling back to wait for her to walk through the doors. It was a very gentlemanly thing to do, but Deni didn’t want to walk that close to him. She didn’t want to smell his aftershave or sense the heat coming off of his body.
Immediately, she remembered kissing him right after the ceremony and then again, in the courtroom. The heat, the need. The shocking sensations that she didn’t really understand since she didn’t actually like the man. They all came right back as she realized she’d have to brush by him in order to step out of the elevator.
“I’m not going to bite,” he promised.
Her eyes moved higher, locking onto his and she felt her heart pounding. One beat. Two. They stared and she held her breath.
“Right,” she finally said and stepped through the doors.
It was just as bad as she’d thought! Moving close was dangerous and she didn’t understand why. She wanted to feign indifference, but the moment her breast accidentally brushed his arm, she felt that same burning sensation heat up her body. She gasped and quickly moved out of his way, then turned slightly, trying to understand.
This kind of reaction seemed so completely out of proportion for what had just happened. She’d brushed by the man. Perhaps a fraction of an inch of her breast had brushed his arm. And yet, through several layers of clothing, she’d felt him. She’d felt that crazy heat hit her so hard that she felt it all the way down to her toes.
Looking up into his eyes, she couldn’t figure out if he’d felt that kind of electric zap as well. His eyes were blank, but she saw a vein throbbing on his jaw. Was he angry?
“This way,” he said. For some reason, his voice sounded deeper. Huskier. What in the world?!
Then he did something that really made her head swim with crazy feelings. He put his hand to the small of her back, guiding her down the hallway to his office.
“No calls or interruptions,” he snapped to his assistant. The older woman looked up, startled by the command. Then her eyes widened when she noticed Deni walking alongside him. The almost instant disapproval hurt. Deni tried to pretend that it didn’t, but she couldn’t see
m to escape the censure in the woman’s eyes.
“Okay,” the door slammed behind them, “why the hell are you here at the bank?”
Deni blinked, startled by his question. “Where else would I be?”
He tossed the papers onto his desk before turning back to glower at her. “I don’t know. At my house. Shopping. Having lunch with your friends?”
She pulled back, confused. This was why he was pissy? Because she was at her desk working? “Why would I be shopping? I have a meeting in,” she checked her watch, “twenty minutes. And I really need to prepare for it,” she told him.
His eyes narrowed. “A meeting. Really?”
She was angry now. “Yes. I have a meeting to discuss last month’s mortgage variances. I know that’s not really high on your list today, but I find it fascinating. And I don’t appreciate you interrupting my day.” She moved closer to him, getting revved up to her argument now. “I don’t interrupt your day and demand that you come down to my office in order to ask ridiculous questions. Why are you disrespecting my day by doing so right now?”
“You think I’m disrespecting you?”
She glared up at him. “What would you call it?”
“Trying to understand what the hell you’re doing.” His voice was ominously low.
She rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in the air with exasperation. “I told you. I have a meeting. There’s no nefarious reason the meeting was scheduled for today. It happens around the same time every month.”
He stared at her for a moment, those eyes blinking once. Twice. Then he shook his head. “But I gave you an allowance.”
She shook her head. “No, you give your children an allowance. I removed the allowance from the contract.”
His hands fisted on his hips. “Your lawyer kept it in.”
“Then he’s not my lawyer any longer,” she snapped and crossed her arms over her stomach, irritated that her request had been dismissed so unceremoniously.
“He was doing the right thing, Deni,” he told her, his voice placating now. “He was protecting your interests.”
Wanted: Wife for Hire (The Diamond Club Book 8) Page 5