What's A Housekeeper To Do?

by Jennie Adams

  Oh, for heaven’s sake; she was just snoozing.

  Snoozing right through a fierce storm, apparently. And Cam had sat with her in the car then carried her inside. He must have a lot of patience.

  Well, the man couldn’t sleep himself. He was probably used to needing a lot of patience to get through all those hours when he wanted to be asleep but wasn’t. Maybe he’d got some vicarious satisfaction out of knowing she was sleeping.

  And maybe Lally was letting her imagination run away with her so she wouldn’t have to think about sharing a room with her boss tonight.

  ‘Room service,’ Cam quipped as he stepped into the room and dumped their bags. He glanced at her face, and shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘I said it already, Lally—I’ll sleep in the car.’

  ‘Yes, well, you see, that’s the problem—I can’t let you do that. You’d be so uncomfortable. It’s a great car, but it’s not made for sleeping in.’ She couldn’t let him do that. ‘There’s really nowhere else we could go for the night?’

  He was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. ‘There’s nowhere nearby, and they seem to think there’ll be a second storm-front.’

  ‘I don’t know why I did that. Slept, I mean. It must have been all the fresh air and wandering on the beach earlier.’

  ‘Fresh air and exercise has that effect on a lot of people.’ He set their bags against the wall out of the way. ‘They’re offering winter warmers in the dining room: would you like to come down, have a hot drink, at least?’

  Lally nodded. ‘That would be nice. I’d better tidy up.’

  At least they had their own bathroom tucked behind a door. Lally picked up her handbag that Cam had kindly brought in for her, stepped into the bathroom, shut the door and splashed water over her face. Her hair was springy from the weather. She knew better than to brush it. If she did, it would just get springier.

  So she twisted and tied it in a loose knot to keep it half under control, applied some lipstick and a spritz of perfume and called the job done. ‘I’m ready.’

  ‘You look lovely,’ Cam murmured, then took her arm and led her from the room. ‘Let’s go see what’s on offer.’

  Lally hadn’t been alert enough to think about the intimacy of the room. Now she tried to absorb his compliment and felt a glow come over her, because being told by a man that she looked great would naturally give her a glow, wouldn’t it?

  It was nothing to do with this specific man. Any man saying that would have had the same impact.

  Oh, she really wished her thoughts wouldn’t step in and question her like that. Sometimes ignorance, or at the very least letting herself think whatever suited best, truly could be bliss. It was better than delving too deeply into the truth.

  Like the truth of knowing you need to share a room with him tonight?

  Maybe she should offer to sleep in the car.

  But he wouldn’t allow it, and Lally knew that.

  ‘It looks like that table is free.’ Cam led the way to a small table in the corner and they took their seats. The table was beside a window and outside streaks of drizzling rain ran down the pane of glass.

  ‘I’d thought we might have to sit at one large, long table and share our company with everyone else,’ Lally observed.

  Since when did you become a hermit, Lally Douglas? Usually you love big dinners with lots of people around.

  That was when she was with her family. This was different. She didn’t want to admit that she wanted Cam all to herself.

  She must be still sleepy, not thinking straight. ‘Not that I’d have minded,’ Lally declared a little too loudly and with a little too much emphasis, and felt telling heat creep into her face. ‘I’d have been quite happy to share. I’d have been quite happy to share news with the other guests, have a bit of a chat. Well, the table setting is nice, don’t you think?’

  Lally gestured at it and told herself the fat red candle in its old-fashioned brass holder didn’t look at all romantic, nor did her boss look equally so with candlelight playing across the angles and shadows of his face.

  He was grinning, just the slight est bit—as one was wont to do when a woman blabbered, Lally pointed out to herself with an inner frown.

  The guesthouse manager came to their table and gave a friendly nod. ‘We’re not overly fancy here, but we’ve got a really nice soup on offer, cake or dessert, plus tea, coffee and hot chocolate.’ He rattled off a description of each choice.

  Lally was surprised to discover she actually felt a little hungry. ‘I’d love to try the soup.’

  They both opted for that to start off.

  Lingering over the supper would use up some of the time until they could go to bed and hope to sleep.

  Well, Lally would hope to sleep. Cam didn’t at the best of times; she doubted he’d do better when he didn’t even have the bed to himself.

  Thinking about getting into bed with him was really not a good idea when she was sitting across a romantic table-setting from him. ‘It’s not a romantic table-setting,’ she muttered, and fell silent.

  ‘Water?’ Cam judiciously ignored her comment and poured water for both of them from a carafe on the table. He passed her drink to her before taking a sip of his own.

  Lally watched him drink and thought he even did that appealingly.

  Do not let your thoughts start wandering where he’s

  concerned. He’s your boss. The boss and the housekeeper—got that? Good!

  Maybe they could put a line of pillows down the middle of the bed or something. Or one of them could sleep rolled into a blanket so there was no chance that their bodies would touch. What did they call that in the old days—buffering? Bundling?

  The soup arrived and Lally stirred her spoon through it. ‘Mmm, I think it has some mushroom in it, beef and tomato, and I suspect some brown lentils. Basil, carrot; definitely parsnip. I’m not sure what else.’

  Very good, Lally. Perhaps you could rabbit on about the soup some more, totally bore him under the table in the first five minutes.

  ‘And some pasta whirls and green peas.’ Cam dug his spoon around in his soup and glanced up at her through his lashes. ‘There’s also either sweet-potato or pumpkin. There’s a reason they call some soups a meal in a bowl.’

  In this case they were small, shallow bowls. Lally took the first mouth-watering sip of the soup and her respect for this tucked-out-of-the-way B&B rose even more. ‘I wish I knew how they made this.’

  ‘Would you like me to try to get the recipe for you?’

  Lally wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to charm the recipe out of the manager’s chef or wife, or whoever did the cooking. ‘Well, only if the opportunity comes up. My sister Tammy would love to cook this.’

  They fell silent for a few minutes, simply enjoying the warming fare.

  Lally thought about something else that was on her mind and said, ‘I’m trying to imagine what it would be like to only have one relative and not see her very often.’

  The manager removed the empty soup bowls and offered them a selection of desserts off a trolley. After they’d chosen, he left again with a murmur. Outside, the rain started to come down in thick sheets. It spattered against the window and made Lally glad to be inside. The memory of Cam’s kiss earlier today rose in her mind, and she tried very hard to push it back out again. She was too vulnerable right now to let herself remember.

  Cam glanced at the window and returned his gaze to her. The green of his eyes seemed particularly deep in the candlelight as he met her gaze. ‘I see my mother when she’s prepared to fit me into her schedule. Usually that’s a couple of times a year. To be honest, though, I do try to keep a flow of text messages and things going her way; that amount of contact is enough for me.’

  Because his mother didn’t take much notice of him when they did meet. She didn’t listen to the things he told her; she was a lot more interested in herself than she was in him. Lally suspected that Dana Travers might not bother even to respond to man
y of her son’s communications at all.

  The woman had acted as though having a home given to her as a reward for putting up with him as a child was more than her due. ‘Was your mother always…?’

  ‘Like what you saw today?’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I came up knowing she hadn’t really wanted the responsibility of a child, but she did keep me with her. She just did it her way, I guess.’

  ‘By travelling all the time.’ Lally’s eyebrows drew together. She was trying hard not to judge the other woman too harshly but it wasn’t easy. ‘You must have been very good academically to survive that kind of existence and still do well.’

  ‘Books helped.’ Cam took a spoonful of fluffy lemon mousse, let it slide over his tongue and swallowed it. ‘Every town we went to, I read as many library books as I could before we moved on again. I guess that helped a lot with keeping me where I needed to be with school-work. That and a few understanding teachers here and there along the way. I spent a lot of time by myself while Mum…’

  ‘Wasn’t there?’

  ‘Yeah. We lived and travelled in a camper van. I thought being left by myself was what happened to every kid.’ He said it in a matter-of-fact tone, yet Lally felt certain he rarely if ever talked about this.

  This amazing man had been more ignored into adulthood than raised. His mother had let him know he was an inconvenience to her. That was unkind, cruel, to a little boy. What had Dana been thinking?

  She’d been thinking of herself, and not the impact that her attitude would have on her son.

  And who are you to judge, Lally? You sent not one but three young boys away from their mother!

  ‘You must have had a lot of nights when you went to sleep wondering where you’d be the next day.’ Lally swallowed back her guilt.

  ‘I did, but on the upside I got to see a lot of gum trees, caravan parks and bush campsites,’ Cam quipped, and then fell silent. His eyebrows drew down and a thoughtful expression crossed his face before he sighed and shook his head. ‘How’s your dessert?’

  ‘It’s nice. I’m glad I chose the mousse too.’ She dug her spoon into the dish and gave thanks that he hadn’t discerned the tone of her thoughts. ‘This tastes so good, I’m guessing there’s got to be a gazillion calories in it. And that’s just the portion I have on my spoon.’

  Cam laughed, as she had hoped he would. They fell silent, finished their desserts, lingered over coffee and ended up talking about football teams, current affairs and whether it made sense to invest in gold bullion in today’s economy.

  It was relaxing and interesting. Relieved, Lally found herself looking into his eyes for the sheer pleasure of seeing the almost sleepy expression there.

  But it was the slum ber ous look of a big, contented cat. There was leashed power behind it, an interest in her that was also leashed. Lally knew that, and sensual awareness built gently between them as they shared that exchange of glances, long, silent looks and casual conversation that was a cover for all that wasn’t being said.

  The dining room began to empty out, and Cam gestured to her cup. ‘Would you like me to try to rustle up another drink for you?’

  ‘I’ve had enough, I think. I hope that I’ll get at least some sleep tonight.’ She stopped and bit her lip, because even mentioning that made this intimacy feel even more intimate.

  ‘We’ll go up.’ Did his voice hold the slightest hint of inevitability?

  Or was that all inside her?

  He rose from the table and took her arm to guide her out of the room.

  They trod the staircase in silence. As they moved upstairs, the sound of the rain became louder. It sounded so lovely, the water hitting the corrugated-iron roof of the old building, sluicing into the gutters and running down the drainpipes.

  ‘I’ll enjoy listening to that tonight for however long it lasts,’ Cam commented as he unlocked the door to their room.

  Their room. For the whole night. With Cam awake while she slept. ‘I, um, I hope I don’t snore or talk in my sleep.’ Or cuddle up to him without realising it…

  ‘I think any of that will be the least of our worries,’ Cam murmured. He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them with a question on his lips. ‘Would you like to use the bathroom first, Lally, or will I go?’

  He asked it so gently.

  ‘I’ll go first, if you don’t mind.’ She got her things, slipped into the bathroom and used the time under the shower to try to pull herself together.

  When she came out in her night wear—boy’s shorts and a matching camisole top covered with the longer shirt she’d had on today—Cam glanced at her.

  His gaze dropped to her bare legs for a split second and slid away again, and he scooped up his things and closed himself in the bathroom.

  That hadn’t been too bad. Really, she’d been worrying about nothing. Lally shrugged out of the shirt, lifted the covers of the bed on the side closest to the window and scooched under.

  Cam stayed in the shower until he couldn’t put off getting out any longer. He dried off, used his deodorant, tried not to think about the scent of Lally in the bathroom that had been tantalising him since he stepped in here and pulled on his boxers.

  Though he considered getting back into his T-shirt, he pushed the thought away. Sleep was difficult enough, and he never slept in a shirt. Lally would already be in bed anyway, probably with the light out if his guess was on the mark. So it wasn’t as though she’d be looking at him, and she’d seen him dressed in as little when they’d been in the swimming pool anyway.

  Cam pushed the bathroom door open, oriented himself, clicked the light off and made his way to the bed.

  The room was quite dark; that was probably a good thing. Cam lifted the covers, got into the bed, drew a slow, single breath and held it.

  He could smell the sweet scent of Lally’s deodorant, and the body gel she’d used in the shower. He could smell her, warm and soft and very, very close to him. Close enough that he could feel her body heat beside him in the bed.

  ‘Goodnight, Cam. I hope you sleep at least a little. I don’t want my presence to add to your trouble with that.’

  She sounded concerned, and a little breathless.

  Cam wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she was breathless for other reasons.

  Yeah, that would work well. He’d get her in his arms, not want to let her go and it would go way beyond kissing.

  Don’t think about kissing her. Think of standing outside in that driving rain getting soaked and cold.

  ‘Goodnight, Lally.’ He doubted he would sleep a wink, but there was no need to tell her that. ‘The main thing is for you to relax and sleep as much as you can. I’ll be happy lying here listening to the rain. I can spend some time plotting the next part of my story in my head. I might write a scene where they stay in a B&B during a wild storm.’

  ‘Story writing must be great that way.’ She said it sleepily. ‘You can utilise all your experiences.’

  ‘I guess so, though I’m not about to claim that I’ve experienced any of the gory stuff I write in my books.’ He accompanied his soft chuckle with a nod, and realised he could see the outline of her face and the soft glow of her eyes.

  His vision had adjusted to the dark. The crack of light coming in beneath the door from the hallway was enough to allow him that much. That meant Lally had been able to see him from the moment he’d stepped out of the bathroom because she’d already been lying there, warm and soft.

  Enough thinking about that!

  ‘More pebble-collecting tomorrow? We’ve done well so far, don’t you think?’ It was an odd version of pillow talk, but it was better than wrapping his arms around her and kissing her until he went mad with need.

  Need? Or desire, want? Well, of course it could only be desire and want. He wasn’t capable of anything else.

  ‘We have done well with the pebble collecting. I hope the rain stops before we get up tomorrow, otherwise we might not get anywhere with the rest of our search.
’ She yawned into her hand and tucked the covers more snugly about her chin. Beneath the blankets, her knee brushed against his leg as she shifted position.

  ‘Oh, sorry.’ She whipped her leg away and said breathlessly, ‘It’s not a very big bed for a double.’

  ‘Standard size, I think.’ But he knew what she meant. All he’d need to do was reach for her, tangle his legs with hers…

  ‘Goodnight.’ He uttered that single word and rolled over so he was facing away from her. Amazing just how much a man could want to resist making that one, small move.

  Cam lay in the darkness and kept his breathing deep and even. Lally first lay very still and barely breathed at all, then wriggled this way and that before finally relaxing until her breathing evened out to something close to the pace and cadence of his.

  She was asleep about two minutes later, fully immersed in it within half an hour.

  The rain continued to fall outside the window. Cam rolled over again and gave himself a moment of looking at her face in repose in the dimness. He drew a deep breath and yawned.

  His body did a weird thing; it sort of relaxed, even though he was still utterly aware of her. Well, he was a man, they were in bed, she was beautiful, he liked her and he already knew what she tasted like.

  Cam sent his thoughts outside into the driving rain again to get them off that particular trail. Obviously he wasn’t going to be totally relaxed in these circumstances, but even so he felt calm. Content. He felt like he did when he finally got exhausted enough to sleep, but also different. He wasn’t about to pass out but he felt like he could drift away on a cloud or something.

  Maybe he would think about his story a bit later. He yawned again and all his muscles relaxed.

  For now, he really was tempted to just close his eyes for a bit.

  He did that…and slept.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  LALLY woke to the sound of a cloudburst. In the moment that she opened her eyes, she realised it was pre-dawn—dim but not entirely dark; maybe about four in the morning.

  Then Lally became aware of so much else: the press of a man’s warm body against her soft curves. Cam. The scent of him mixed with her scent in the warmth of the bed they shared. A heartbeat registered through the tips of her fingers where they lay against his bare chest. Strong arms wrapped around her, skin on skin where the camisole top left so much of her back, arms and chest bare.