Mr. Hyde’s Assets
Page 12
She nibbled his ear, inadvertently finding a ticklish spot.
“Stop that!” Austin laughed. “Ear-kissing won’t work on me, girl. I can’t take you with me.” Lucy wasn’t listening. She nosed through his hair and draped her long body on his shoulder, clearly intent on remaining there. Austin craned his neck to look at her. “Cuteness won’t work, I tell you. You look too much like a weasel, or a rat. And you’re a thief—Andre says so. Besides, Mrs. Merryweather—”
He halted his words, a dangerous smile curving his mouth. “Mrs. Merryweather would have a fit.” And the mischievous pet might keep the old battle-ax busy, giving him more time alone with Candice.
Providing he could talk her into letting him bring Lucy inside. If he could gain Candice’s sympathy, Mrs. Merryweather wouldn’t have a choice. But did Candice like animals?
Good question. All children deserved a pet, didn’t they? His mother had forbidden pets of any kind, even goldfish. They’d once managed to sneak a frog into the house, but when it was Jack’s turn to keep it in his room, it had mysteriously died.
During those experimental childhood days, nothing living was safe around Jack.
Hell, nothing had changed.
Lucy nudged his cheek with her nose, commanding his attention. Austin absently stroked her, thinking, planning, and plotting. A lot depended on Candice and her views on pets. Austin knew there weren’t any critters on the estate now. Maybe the late Mr. Vanausdale had hated animals, and Candice just hadn’t gotten around to getting one.
He scratched Lucy’s chin while she proceeded to lick every inch of his face with loving care. “It’s a long shot, Lucy, but I guess we can give it a try. If Mrs. Dale doesn’t approve, I suppose you can have my pad over the garage until we figure out what to do with you for the next six months.”
Lucy finished bathing him to her satisfaction, then began to bathe her own face, apparently secure in the knowledge that someone would take care of her.
Austin grinned, watching her. “How could they resist you?” He’d grown fond of the lovable little animal in the two years he’d shared an apartment with Andre. “As long as you keep your sticky fingers to yourself, then we shouldn’t have a problem. Oh, and no toe-biting.” Lucy paused for a second to look at him, then calmly resumed her grooming.
Amazed at her intelligence, Austin placed her in the pet taxi for the ride back to the Vandausdale estate. Along the way, he’d stop at a convenience store and pick up a bag of her favorite cat food, cat litter, and a few squeaky toys. Maybe he’d buy her a new collar with a bell.
He whistled as he gathered his painting supplies and a few extra clothes for himself, stepping over the clutter on the floor.
If Lucy got lost in that museum of a house, it might take Mrs. Merryweather days of serious searching to find her.
Even longer without the bell.
Two hours later, Austin rapped on the kitchen door of the Vanausdale mansion. In one hand, he carried the pet taxi; his other hand cradled an assortment of pet supplies. Lucy peered curiously through the bars of the cage door, sporting a brand-new hot-pink collar—with the warning bell safely stashed in his pocket.
Only Austin and Andre knew the ferret answered to a squeak toy. Andre was in London, and Austin wasn’t talking.
The door opened, and Mrs. Merryweather stood on the threshold, staring first at Austin, then at the pet carrier. Finally, her neutral gaze landed on the pet supplies. A slight frown added a line or two to her face, but all in all, Austin thought it was a good reaction.
“A cat?” she asked dubiously.
He shook his head and forced a sad sigh. “No. A ferret. My roommate abandoned it, and I couldn’t leave the little critter all alone.” Her frown deepened. Uh-oh. Now she would demand that he take the “little critter” back where it came from.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Bring the poor dear in. My younger son always had a thing for exotic animals, and now he works at the zoo. Come to think of it, I believe he had one of these things when he was in college. They’re a lot like cats, aren’t they? I like cats, used to have a yard full of them.”
Austin snapped his jaw shut and muted his expression of disbelief. Mrs. Merryweather was chatting with him as if he were an old friend, a drastic change from her earlier chill.
And she liked cats, her son had once owned a ferret, and now he worked at the zoo.
He couldn’t believe his good luck. Now if only he could be so lucky with Candice.
Stepping inside, he set the cage on the floor and deposited the supplies on the table, hoping he’d find his voice before the housekeeper noticed his silence.
She stooped to look in the cage, chuckling as Lucy stretched her nose through the bars, attempting to catch the scent of this stranger, Mrs. Merryweather obliged by rubbing the little pointed nose with a gentle finger. “What’s its name?”
Austin cleared his throat, wondering if he had walked into the wrong house. Mrs. Merryweather was being nice. Sweet. And she was making friendly clucking noises at Lucy, an animal that looked like a cross between a raccoon, a weasel, and a rat.
An animal that looked nothing like an ordinary domesticated house cat.
“It’s a she, and her name is Lucy.” His voice sounded strange, almost hoarse. What had changed Mrs. Merryweather’s mind? Was it possible that Candice—Mrs. Dale—was responsible for this new-and-improved attitude? What had she told the housekeeper? His face grew warm as he considered the possibilities. She would never have mentioned the incident in the parking lot at Clyde’s Rib Ranch, but for some reason Mrs. Merryweather had mellowed toward him.
Fascinated, he continued to watch as Mrs. Merryweather opened the cage and cradled a happy Lucy in her arms. True to character, Lucy took full advantage, snuggling contentedly against the housekeepers ample bosom.
Austin rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “Does this mean it’s okay if she stays?” He still couldn’t believe it.
Mrs. Merryweather crooned to Lucy, who loved nothing better. “Of course it’s okay for the little dear to stay.” Suddenly, she fixed a stern eye on Austin. “As long as you clean up her messes. And speaking of messes, I’m not your maid, so you pick up after yourself, understand? I’ve got enough to do, and so does Mrs. Dale.”
“Understood. How does Mrs. Dale feel about pets? I noticed she doesn’t own any.”
“That’s because Mr. Howard didn’t care for critters. Said they were filthy and too much trouble. Mrs. Dale likes them just fine.”
“I like what just fine?” Candice asked from the doorway.
Austin swiveled to look at her, his hungry gaze taking in every delectable inch of her in the space of a few seconds. With Mrs. Merryweather looking on, he could do little more. But his quick glance was enough to tell him she looked downright edible in a floaty sundress that bared her shoulders, arms, and a considerable amount of smooth legs. He recognized the dress as one she had purchased yesterday during their adventurous outing.
She wore her hair straight and shimmering. Loose.
The housekeeper held Lucy up for inspection, her eyes twinkling. “We’ve got a new houseguest—other than Mr. Hyde, that is.”
So, Candice had cleared the way. Austin shifted, cocking his hip against a chair as he waited for her reaction to the ferret, wondering if Mrs. Merryweather knew Candice as well as she thought.
“Her name is Lucy,” he volunteered.
Candice slowly approached the wriggling animal, a hesitant smile on her lips. “But what is she?”
Mrs. Merryweather placed Lucy gently into Candice’s arms. “She’s a ferret, a domesticated version of the weasel family—am I right, Mr. Hyde?”
Austin nodded, his eyes on Candice and Lucy.
Lucy, who to Austin’s knowledge had never met a stranger, scrambled against her until she could reach Candice’s face. When she began licking earnestly at her chin, Candice laughed. “Oh, she’s a sweetheart, isn’t she?”
Her sparkling gaze met Austin’s. He fe
lt a warm shaft of contentment bury itself inside his heart. At the same time, a prickle of awareness jolted his pulse into overdrive.
She liked animals, and from the gleam in her eyes as she looked at him, she liked him, too.
Shifting again to ease the sudden tightness in his jeans, he saw her gaze dip low for an instant, and he caught a flicker of something hot and satisfied in her expression before she lowered the silky fan of her eyelashes.
“Are you hungry? We’ve eaten, but Mrs. Merryweather kept something warm for you.”
Her voice was soft and a little husky. The sound tightened his gut to an almost painful degree. Oh, yes, he was very hungry—for her. He ached to bury himself inside her, to make her writhe and moan with hot, sexual need. She was Sleeping Beauty, and he, well, he was a randy prince just waiting for the opportunity to awaken the wild side of Candice Vanausdale.
But he’d promised.
What the hell had he been thinking when he made such a laughable promise?
“… the matter, baby? You hungry, too?”
Her hushed, tender voice as she talked to Lucy thundered inside his head.
And he suddenly remembered what he’d been thinking about now when he’d made that promise. Baby, she’d said.
He’d been thinking about his baby, growing inside her.
Her reputation, too, of course. And the money, which seemed so important to her.
He opened his mouth to tell her that he’d already eaten, but at that moment, the doorbell sounded. Candice didn’t look surprised. Calmly, she placed the ferret into his arms. As she leaned close, he caught a whiff of expensive, mind-blowing perfume.
“Expecting someone?” Was that his voice sounding so jealous and demanding? Hell, and now Mrs. Merryweather was looking at him strangely. He really needed to watch his mouth.
“Yes, I am. It’s Luke. Luke McVey. My attorney.” She flashed him a sunny smile. “He’s right on time.”
Austin swallowed a growl, watching her exit the room. And he had a nagging suspicion that she knew he was jealous of the fancy lawyer.
Was Luke the reason for todays sexy hair and alluring dress, or was she simply taking Austin’s advice and finally learning to loosen up?
He started as Mrs. Merry weather’s hand landed on his arm. He relaxed his taut muscles lest she suspect the reason behind his tension. Hell, after his reckless comment, she probably already knew.
“Would you mind taking out the trash, Mr. Hyde? And after that, I could use a hand with mopping the floors. My stamina’s not what it used to be, I’ll tell ya.”
Austin slowly turned to look at her, bracing himself for the smug look he was certain to find on her face.
What he saw was far, far worse.
Sympathy… and a glimmer of warning.
Don’t get stupid, her look seemed to say. He managed a passable careless shrug, but the smile he forced to his lips felt as stiff as beef jerky and as obvious as Madonna. “Of course I don’t mind. It’s my job, isn’t it?”
Sensing his inner turmoil, Lucy stroked his rough chin with her tongue, trying to soothe the hurt.
It didn’t help, dammit.
Chapter Ten
“I understand your need for a bodyguard,” Luke McVey said. “Especially in light of what you told me.” He sighed and flipped his suit jacket open, sticking his hands into his pants pockets.
Tall, distinguished, with thinning gray hair and hazel eyes, he looked every inch the successful lawyer. Candice had liked him the moment she’d met him, and their friendship had continued to grow over the years.
“But no matter how innocent the relationship between yourself and the… handyman, if anyone finds out he’s here, you know what a big stink they’ll make of it.”
Candice shifted uneasily on the sofa as Luke paced in front of her, knowing she’d be a fool to scoff at his well-meaning advice. And she didn’t have to ask who he meant by they; her in-laws would indeed love to have something they could twist to their advantage.
She cleared her throat, hoping he wouldn’t notice the heat in her cheeks as she voiced the question, “Wouldn’t they have to prove that our relationship wasn’t platonic?”
Luke stared at her for a long, considering moment, as if debating whether he should pry further. “All they really need is a tiny seed of doubt to sow. My advice to you is to be careful. Keep this Mr. Hyde out of sight as much as possible.”
He stopped in front of her and took her hands in his, his eyes warm with genuine concern. “Candice, are you sure you can trust this guy?”
Candice didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I’m sure. Dr. Jack recommended him.” Besides, he’s fun, and he makes me feel wonderful and makes me laugh.
Luke lifted a skeptical eyebrow at that but didn’t comment. He resumed pacing. “You’ve got a lot at stake here,” he reminded her. “Your future and your unborn baby’s future depend upon your discretion. Just be careful, okay?”
“I will.” Candice waited until she was certain the attorney had finished his speech before she changed the subject. “Luke, I was wondering if you knew anyone who might be interested in buying a few pieces of my jewelry.”
He glanced at her sharply. “You need money? Why didn’t you tell me? I’d be more than happy to make you a loan.”
Firmly, Candice shook her head. “It’s sweet of you, but I’d rather do this my own way. I no longer have any need for most of the jewelry Howard bought me.” She didn’t add that she hated the costly reminders of her subservience, nor did she try to explain that she and Howard had not shared the same taste in jewelry. Luke and Howard had been friends, and out of respect, she kept her opinion of her husband to herself.
“Is it that lousy deadbeat stepfather of yours?” Luke demanded, reminding Candice more of an outraged father than an attorney. “Is he sniffing around for money again?”
She smiled at the sight of his fierce frown, but her smile quickly faded as she thought of the last ugly scene with her stepfather more than three months ago. Nothing ever changed about Pete Clancy; he always looked unshaven, unkempt, and she couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t stink of whiskey. “I think I convinced Pete the last time that the well had gone dry.”
Of course, that was after she’d given him her garish pre-engagement ring to sell. Luke would never understand her intense satisfaction in knowing she’d seen the last of it. The ring had been nothing more than a symbol of ownership in Howard’s eyes. If she’d thought she could get away with it, she might have disposed of her wedding band and diamond as well.
When it became obvious by her silence that she wasn’t going to confess her reason for needing the money, Luke finally shmgged. “Get together what you want to sell, and give me a call. I know of a reputable jeweler who will give you a fair price.”
“Thanks, Luke.”
“Don’t mention it. Being Howard’s attorney has made me a rich man, and helping his lovely widow is the least I can do.”
Candice flashed him a teasing smile. “And here I’ve been thinking it was my charm all along.”
“That’s part of it,” Luke agreed, returning her smile. He moved to the door, his expression growing serious again. “Keep a sharp eye on your handyman, will you? You’re in a vulnerable situation, Candice. I’d hate to see someone take advantage of you.”
Candice remembered Luke’s warning later that night when she discovered several pieces of jewelry missing from her dresser. She’d decided to do an inventory before going to bed, eager to get started on the nursery with the extra cash the pieces would bring.
“I can’t imagine…” she muttered, crawling on her hands and knees to look beneath the bed and dresser. Nothing, not even a dust bunny. Of course, not finding a dust bunny shouldn’t surprise her; Mrs. Merryweather was a fanatic about cleaning.
But not finding the jewelry did surprise her. She couldn’t really believe someone had taken the pieces. And each time Mr. Hyde’s name popped into her mind, she firmly shoved the ridiculous notion away.
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Stumped, she sat back on her heels, thinking aloud. “Now, why would they take one diamond earring and my pearl necklace and leave the emerald brooch?” The brooch was worth far more than the pearls. Surely a professional thief would know that.
“Maybe they were hoping we wouldn’t notice if they only took a little?”
Candice turned to find Mrs. Merryweather standing in the bedroom doorway looking very close to tears. She wore a cotton nightgown patterned with tiny pink roses, a matching robe, and fuzzy pink slippers on her feet.
“I can’t find my mother’s locket,” she announced with a sniff, removing a handkerchief from her housecoat pocket and blowing noisily. “It’s not worth a fig to anyone but me.”
“If it doesn’t have any monetary value, then why would someone take it?” Candice got to her feet and sat on the bed, deeply disturbed by the strange thefts. This time when an image of Mr. Hyde popped into her mind, she knew she couldn’t ignore it.
He’d just moved into the house. But even if he were a thief, surely he wouldn’t be so bold so quickly. It would be a dead give away. And why would he take one earring and leave the other? Then there was Mrs. Merryweather’s locket. Candice remembered it well, for Mrs. Merryweather sometimes wore it on Sundays. It was pretty but obviously inexpensive.
It just didn’t make sense.
Mrs. Merryweather joined her on the bed, her bosom heaving in a weary sigh. “I hate to think this, Mrs. Dale, but what if Mr. Hyde—”
“No.”
“Beg your pardon?” Mrs. Merryweather slowly lowered the handkerchief from her red nose and looked at Candice through tear-blurred eyes. “How can you not consider him? If it isn’t me, and it isn’t you, that only leaves one other possibility.”
Candice shook her head, ignoring the logic that insisted she consider Mrs. Merryweather’s theory for longer than two seconds. “It just doesn’t make sense. If he’s a professional, he would know better than to take something right away, and he would know your locket isn’t worth stealing. Not that it isn’t precious,” she added hastily when Mrs. Merryweather began to sniffle again.