In the crook of her arm Sophia held a teddy bear, while curled up beside her on the colourful patchwork quilt was a sleeping tabby cat. A picture book lay open on the covers, which Chloe quietly closed and set on the bedside table. The cat opened his eyes and regarded her dispassionately for a moment before closing them once again.
The room was big and clearly designed with a child in mind. A fireplace graced one wall, although instead of a real fire, an electric fire with artificial logs cast a warm red glow on the room. On either side of the fireplace sat huge bookcases, the shelves lined with books and toys, and Chloe again had the impression of a poor little rich girl. Did Gaelan think that all these things, as much as any child would want them, could take the place of a parent’s love?
She watched the girl as she slept peacefully, feeling a deep sadness. She would be gone in the morning and would never see Sophia again. Perhaps in the long run it was for the best. How could she be this child's teacher for a year and then leave? What effect would that have on Sophia? What Sophia really needed was not a teacher but a mother who would stay with her forever, to be there as she grew up, to help her through all of childhood's and adolescence's ups and downs.
Chloe remembered her own mother, who had comforted her and supported her no matter what. She recalled her first boyfriend. She was fifteen, and he was eighteen. Her mother hadn’t approved and told her so, and yet when he inevitably dumped her for a cheerleader, her mother had let her cry on her shoulder and never once said I told you so.
Chloe couldn't understand Gaelan's lack of affection for the child. Had he always been like this, or had it been different when his wife had been alive? Or had Sophia simply been an unwanted child? But how could anyone not want this beautiful, bright girl? Chloe had only known her for a few hours, and already she was ready to step into the role. Was part of that her attraction to Sophia’s father? How would she feel if she heard one day that Gaelan had remarried? Would she be happy for Sophia’s sake?
She pulled the quilt up over the girl’s shoulders before leaning over and kissing her softly on the cheek. Sophia smiled slightly in her sleep and pressed the teddy bear closer to her chest. "Good night," Chloe said in a barely audible whisper. “I wish I had the chance to get to know you. I do know you are a very special little girl." She straightened up and watched Sophia sleep for a few more moments. What would happen to Sophia? Chloe prayed that despite everything she would grow to be a loving young woman, that her talents would blossom, and that above all she would be happy. “Good-bye,” she whispered again. She turned to leave when she stopped suddenly, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle the gasp of surprise.
Gaelan Byrne stood in the open doorway of Sophia’s room. How long had he been standing there? Chloe wondered. His hands were in his pockets, and he lounged casually against the doorframe silently, watching her. Despite his closeness, she wondered for a moment if he was really there or whether she was dreaming or having a hallucination. But no dream or hallucination could have a presence like this. It was too strong, too physical. All around him the air was charged, his strength and sexuality surrounding him like an aura.
He did not speak, the only movement his even breathing. That and his eyes. They roamed languidly over her, calmly taking in her appearance in the black silk negligée. She felt almost naked under his gaze and pulled the edges of the robe together over her breasts. Her hand was shaking slightly, and her legs felt so weak that the slightest breeze would have toppled her. She wondered if he would take the few steps that separated them to catch her and if he did what would happen next.
She tried to find something to say, but found she was hardly capable of thought, let alone speech. She felt herself being simultaneously pulled in and repulsed by his energy, frozen in space and time, a complete slave to his whims and desires. And so she stood there, separated by a few feet of floor, a few feet of air, her fate hanging in the balance as she waited for his next move.
He seemed oblivious to her emotional state, only stood there watching her through narrowed eyes seemingly indifferent to her state of mind. Slowly he straightened up, his shoulder no longer against the doorframe, and as Chloe’s heart waited to start beating again, he turned away slowly. Then, without saying a word, without revealing his reasons for being there at all, he disappeared silently down the dark hall.
Chapter 3
Gaelan stood at the edge of the cliff, looking out over the Atlantic Ocean. While the day had dawned relatively clear, a dense white fog was now being carried in on a light wind. Before long it would be, as Newfoundlanders said, as thick as pea soup. Below him the icy water pounded against the rocks in its endless quest to wear the island away.
A hundred yards from shore, two blue-white icebergs made their slow and fateful voyage south. Now two shimmering mountains of ice, the icebergs had once formed part of a glacier in Greenland. Carried by the current, they would continue their journey south until they melted into warmer waters. Ghosts, Windy called them, and today shrouded in fog they looked especially eerie. Despite their unearthly beauty, Gaelan knew well how deadly they could be. What jutted out of the ocean was only the tip of the iceberg and relatively easy to avoid. But beneath the dark waves, shelves of deadly ice laid patiently in wait for careless ships.
He loved the icebergs, as he loved everything about Widow’s Cliff. The isolation, the wind, the barren beauty, the ever-present sound of the ocean. He rested a hand against the wooden fence that had guarded the cliff’s edge ever since his great-grandfather had wandered off and plunged to his death. Colleen had hated Widow’s Cliff for the very reasons Gaelan loved it and spent as little time here as possible. Perhaps that was why she had failed to ruin the place for him. It felt untouched by her, untainted. Here at Widow’s Cliff, he could almost forget the whole sorry business. Almost being the operative word, as Sophia’s presence was a constant reminder of his foolishness.
The wind lifted his hair and the hem of his long wool coat. It was a cool wind, but it held the promise of spring. The fog was growing steadily denser. He couldn’t see the icebergs anymore, though he still felt their nearness. Along the shore was a band of ice, and beyond that he could make out the ice pans, broken pieces of ice washed around by the waves. From these, dozens of ducks scouted the water for fish.
He turned toward the house. Shrouded in fog, it looked straight out of a fairy-tale. It was such an unlikely house, with its turrets and its leaded windows - a castle in the New World. Gaelan’s great-grandfather had come to Newfoundland, forced out of Ireland by hunger. He had been one of the lucky ones and made a fortune as a ship builder. But he was not happy here. He missed the soft green of his homeland and could not fall in love with Newfoundland’s rocky barrenness. He built his house on this cliff, on the far-eastern tip of the continent, as close as he could get to his beloved homeland without stepping into the ocean. Eventually he had, and Gaelan had always wondered if his fall off the cliff truly had been an accident.
The castle had been passed down through the oldest sons until it came to Gaelan - and he supposed one day it would go to Sophia. There was no chance of a son now. And while he had reservations about her inheriting the house, they had nothing to do with her being female. Times had changed, and Gaelan believed for the best - at least where women stood. Regardless, any other child would mean another woman in his life, and he was determined that no matter how hard his body rebelled against his rigidly imposed celibacy, there would never be another.
He looked up then and saw her. Chloe. She appeared from the mist, her strawberry blond hair floating on the breeze, as ethereal and ghostly as the morning. He felt the memory of her body against his and wondered if he could resist this woman’s attractions. Turning away from her, he looked out again over the water, now a swirling wall of white, and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand.
“The fog is so thick,” she said quietly behind him. “When I was in my room, I could still see the icebergs, and now there’s nothing but this.”
>
“Yes, it can roll in pretty fast,” he said, his voice sounding strangely flat and emotionless to his own ears. He would not let her hear the impact she had on him.
She did not say anything for a moment, but he could feel her presence, the fog wrapping them up together in a white misty blanket until they could barely see each other. “I’m ready to go,” she said at an attempt at brightness. “I think it best I leave before Sophia gets up.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he said, addressing the Atlantic Ocean. “You can stay.”
He told himself he was doing this for Sophia. He had failed the child in so many ways. Poor kid. It wasn’t her fault - but he simply couldn’t help it. He felt like a monster sometimes, but he just couldn’t feel any affection for her. Instead, he bought her presents, toys, books, her cat, knowing as he presented them that all the toys in the world could not compensate for a father's love. And now he would give her Chloe, another compensation for his lack of affection.
He had watched Chloe with Sophia the night before. Despite having known Sophia for only a couple of hours, Chloe seemed genuinely fond of her. She had tucked her in and kissed her goodnight. The little things a parent would do, the little things he hadn’t done since she was a baby, when he had thought it possible for them to be a family. He, Colleen, and Sophia. But they weren’t a family, and he was a failure as a father. And so he would let Chloe stay for Sophia’s sake.
But was that really true? Was he only thinking about Sophia? Or was he thinking about himself too? He remembered her black silk negligée, the way it clung to every curve of her body, the glimpse of shadowy cleavage before she pulled the wrap around her. And he was surely thinking about himself when he had grabbed her in his study. Really, afterward he had been ashamed of himself. It had been less than dignified and rather brutish. Really he deserved the slap across the face, even if he could still swear she had enjoyed that kiss every bit as much as he had.
He looked down over the cliff, but it was like looking through clouds, and while he could hear the water against the rocks, he could see nothing but white fog. It was as if nothing in the world existed but he and this woman. He could barely see her, but he could feel her presence - so close he only had to turn around and reach out to touch her. His common sense told him this was how it started, a physical attraction, then bang! In over your head. He was plunging toward disaster. He knew it, and he knew he should do something to stop it, but he had never felt so powerless in his life.
Suddenly he was aware she had yet to respond to his offer. Not trusting himself to turn toward her, he made it again. “If you still want the job, it's yours. On a three-month trial basis, of course.” He would not throw caution completely to the winds.
“I think Sophia will be very happy,” she said at last.
“And you?” he asked in a low voice. “Will you be happy?”
“I don’t know...I did quit...”
He suddenly felt angry at her hesitation and knew that as much as he was attracted to her, he was far from trusting her. What would Windy say? Once burnt, twice shy? There seemed to be something calculably coy in her indecision, and he felt like she was playing games with him. And he’d had enough games from Colleen to last a lifetime. He turned around to face her, taking a step forward so he was just arm’s distance away. “If it's about last night, don’t worry. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”
He had hit a nerve, he could see that in the way she narrowed her eyes and straightened her shoulders. “I should hope not,” she snapped back loudly. So loudly that Gaelan decided she was protesting too much. He did not know whether that pleased him or not.
“So, you’ll take the job?” he said impatiently. “Come on. I don’t have all day.”
“Yes. I will,” she said quietly, and Gaelan tried to read her thoughts. “I’ll go and see if Sophia is up yet,” she said and turned away.
“Wait,” he said, and he put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. It was an unconscious gesture, and yet as he pulled his hand away he wondered if he hadn’t wanted an excuse to touch her. She turned but stepped away from him, putting distance between them, seemingly unsure of what was about to happen next. Did she think he was going to kiss her again?
“I want to make a couple of things absolutely clear,” he said firmly. He was serious, he told himself - it was not going to happen again. Not with Chloe and not with anyone else. “You are here to teach Sophia. I do not want to be bothered. Ever. No parent-teacher interviews, no cute little plays or recitals. I do not wish to be bothered.”
He noted her look of disapproval but did not acknowledge it. He couldn’t bear signs of affection from Sophia, every one of them making him more acutely aware of his own inability to show affection and warmth for her. “The second thing,” he continued. "Sophia’s mother is dead, and we do not speak about her. I expect you to respect that if ever Sophia should mention her.”
Chloe looked as if she was about to protest, but he silenced her with a glare. “Got it?”
She nodded. “Is that all?” she asked.
“Yes. Do you think you can handle it?”
“I guess I’ll have too.” Her hair fell across her eyes, and she pushed it back impatiently. “For Sophia’s sake, I’ll take the job.”
* * *
Chloe followed Gaelan back to the house, avoiding the patches of snow that still dotted the ground. She would have liked to have lingered by the cliff to collect her thoughts and enjoy the view, but the fog was now so thick she could barely see the house, and she was not keen on getting lost.
She honestly didn’t know how she felt about staying. During the largely sleepless night, she had become so convinced it was better she left that now she had to convince herself all over again of why she wanted to stay. For Sophia’s sake, she would keep reminding herself. The poor child needed someone who cared for her. Her decision, she told herself firmly, had nothing to do with this man whose arrogance and coldness by far made up for his dark, romantic looks. This man, she decided, made her ex-boyfriend Shawn, even with his refusal to consider children, look downright chivalrous.
They finished the walk in silence. Inside the front door, she picked up her bags and carried them back up to her room. Yet again, Gaelan did not bother to help. Talking in a hushed tone into his cell phone, he walked right past and down the hall that led to his study,
Sophia was not in her room. Chloe found her in the kitchen eating breakfast with Windy. The room was warm and cheerful. A fire burned in the huge fireplace, and the air was fragrant with the smell of wood smoke, coffee, and homemade baking. Bunches of herbs hung from the dark ceiling beams, adding their own pungency to the mix. “Chloe!” Sophia shouted, jumping from the table. She launched herself at Chloe and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I don’t want you to go!”
Chloe put her arms around the girl’s shoulders. “That’s good, because I’m here to stay for at least three months.”
Sophia let go of Chloe and jumped up and down while clapping her hands. “Windy! Chloe can stay!”
“I heard, dear. It’s good news.” Windy got up from the table. “But you’re going to wear her nerves right raw with all that noise. Sit down and let Chloe have some breakfast.”
Sophia sat down obediently and began to shovel big spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth.
“Good heavens, girl!” Windy scolded. “Slow down or you’ll choke!”
Sophia responded by eating with exaggerated slowness, moving her spoon very slowly to her mouth. Her joke soon became too much for her though. She started to laugh and almost fulfilled Windy’s prophecy. Windy vigorously thumped Sophia on the back until she stopped coughing. “You’ll be the death of me, you know. Now behave so I can get Chloe something to eat.”
Sophia nodded meekly and ate obediently while Windy brought Chloe a cup of coffee and a couple of muffins still warm from the oven. “Would you like to help me unpack after breakfast, Sophia?” Chloe asked as she spread butter on her muffins.
Chloe smiled. “If you like.”
The Billionaire's Secrets Page 5