Indecent Encounter: The Silverhaus Affair

by Parker, M. S.

  I didn’t know whether I should stand or sit, be complimented or offended. Were we all going to stand here like I was some kind of animal being haggled over at the auction block, making veiled remarks about the real reason Benji wanted me to work for him? Seriously? Would Alex throw me to this wolf? Or was he simply thinking of freeing me from working as his maid to uncomplicate things? And what, exactly, did that mean?

  Despite its bitter bite, I took another sip of the whiskey and resigned myself to the fact that I’d taken this job to be a servant, not to be some esteemed professional in a cutting edge career job. What had I expected? If this kind of behavior was what was involved, then I’d have to handle it.

  Just until the end of summer.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chelsea

  Alex poured another drink for his father and Benjamin. When he got to me, however, I covered my glass with my hand and said, “I should see if Jamison needs help in the kitchen.”

  “Okay,” Alex said, then dropped his voice. “And then maybe we can talk after?”

  I nodded and smiled, still not entirely sure what was going on here. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

  Benjamin gave me a shallow bow and right before I closed the library door behind me I heard him say, “Beautiful girl. A man could get lost in those eyes.”

  The compliment made me smile, although I was still a little leery of Mr. Talbot and what he wanted. The events of the day had my head spinning, to say the least.

  When I walked into the kitchen, Jamison took one look at me and said, “So you met Mr. B?”

  “I take it you know him.”

  “Of course,” Jamison said, motioning for me to finish the sauce he was stirring. “Benjamin Talbot is old money, the kind of family fortune that’s so old no one really even remembers where the money came from.”

  “He seems like a very nice gentleman,” I said, stirring the sauce slowly. Jamison and I got along well, and I didn't want to spoil that by saying something I might regret.

  “He is if you like that kind of man,” Jamison said.

  “Who doesn’t like tall, dark, handsome, and rich?”

  “Mr. B is a widower, a jet-setter, and used to getting his way,” Jamison said with a sniff. “Not the easiest man to work for, if you have your own ideas.”

  “Did you ever work for him?” I asked, following Jamison’s impatient gesture and spooning the sauce into an elegant, gold-rimmed serving dish.

  “No, and I’m sure I would never like to,” he said. His voice was polite, but stiff.

  I accidentally sloshed a little sauce, remembering the way Henry had talked about me earlier like I might be eye-candy instead of just a maid. “Well, it sounds like Alex thinks I should go work for him.”

  “For Mr. B?” Jamison asked, tossing me a cloth to wipe the dish. “I knew he was planning to find you another position, but I don’t think Mr. B is the man he had in mind.”

  I felt a clutch at my heart. Henry had been right. Alex wanted me to go somewhere else. All my worries from earlier came back. Maybe Alex had been biding his time until he could get me out of his hair. Maybe I really was just too much of a complication. Bringing Zach in had clearly been the last straw.

  Jamison snapped his fingers in front of my face. “In the good way, my dear.”

  Crap. I hadn't been listening. “Oh, sorry. What did you say?” I asked as I loaded the savory roast dinner onto a large tray.

  “It’s not my place to say,” he said, adding a flourish of spices to the top of the sauce.

  “But you think I should avoid working for the sinfully handsome and rich Mr. B?” I asked, teasing.

  “For those exact reasons.” His mouth pursed. “He is well-known for lavishing gifts on his mistresses, though no one talks about how many different women he’s seen with in any given month.”

  “So he’s a rich playboy,” I said.

  Jamison shook his head. “I only mention it because he can be very persuasive.”

  “Alex didn't seem to have a problem with him, and he didn't tell me that he didn't want me working for Mr. Talbot.” I didn't look at Jamison. “If Alex wants me somewhere else, this seems like good timing.”

  I didn't mention that I'd had to find out about Alex wanting me to leave from Henry, or that I still had no idea what Alex's real reasoning was, since Jamison seemed to think it wasn't as bad as I thought. Unless he told me otherwise, I thought it a good idea to make the break quickly and cleanly.

  As if reading my mind, Jamison said, “You don’t need to jump at the first offer that comes along. I’m looking into decent positions for you myself. Someone must need a maid for the last four weeks before summer ends.”

  I smiled. At least I knew I could trust Jamison to have my back. “Can’t wait to get rid of me?” I asked, lifting the silver tray and waiting for him to open the door.

  “You know that’s not true,” he said. He put his hand on my arm. “Please, Chelsea, just be careful. Things that seem too good to be true often are.”

  I followed him down the narrow servants’ hall, and through the side door into the dining room. Benjamin applauded the dinner as I laid it on the table, and once again, his rakish eyes were dancing with delight. He was so transparent. It was obvious that it wasn’t Jamison’s presentation of the food that met with his exuberant approval. It was me.

  “Absolutely delicious,” he said, not even bothering to hide his true meaning.

  I nearly rolled my eyes. The man was a ruthless flirt.

  “Now don’t be getting any ideas, Benji,” Alex said with a grin. “You’re here for dinner, not to poach my staff.”

  “Well, my staff has needs too,” Benjamin said.

  Wow. Absolutely no subtly at all. Making sexual innuendoes about the maid? I stifled my sigh as I finished refilling the water goblets and stepped over to the china buffet to return the pitcher of water. My opinion of Mr. Talbot lowered.

  The fact that Alex didn't say anything made my stomach twist. How could any man let someone talk that way about a woman he cared about? And even if what we had was just a summer fling, shouldn't he have at least said something because he was my employer?

  “I told Benji that Chelsea may be looking for employment elsewhere before she returns to the States,” Henry said, and stabbed a piece of meat with his fork.

  Alex didn't even look at me as he responded, “Well, Chelsea hasn’t made any decisions yet, but I hope she’ll take all the time she needs.”

  Henry stopped chewing long enough to say, “Oh, don’t be silly. Benji is offering an absurd amount. She’d be a fool not to jump at the chance.”

  I was tired of them talking about me like I wasn't there. “Well, he did mention it earlier, but we didn’t discuss the money.”

  Alex finally glanced my way, his gaze hard to discern. “I suppose if it’s all about the money, and Benji is offering more, then you should definitely consider it.”

  I guess Jamison had been wrong after all. Alex didn't care if I went to work for Mr. Talbot.

  Jamison cleared his throat, and Alex shook himself free of my gaze. “Come on, gentlemen, we know better than to talk business over dinner. I’m sure my father has a lot of good stories about his houseguest he can tell us. Don’t you Henry?”

  I didn't really care much about Henry and his stories, so I rounded the table to exit through the side door when Benjamin grabbed my wrist.

  “Just something to think about,” he said quietly, and kissed the back of my hand. I felt him press a slip of paper into my palm as he smiled at me.

  I tucked it into my pocket and darted out the door. If Jamison had seen it, he said nothing. In the kitchen, he went right to scrubbing dishes, his chosen activity when he wanted to avoid conversation. I moved to help him, but he waved me away.

  His set shoulders and vehement scrubbing spoke his disapproval. It stung. Did he think I was being disloyal, entertaining another job offer? But I wasn't the one who'd set the whole thing in motion.

&nb
sp; Or was it something else. Did Jamison think I would forget about Alex and jump into Benjamin’s bed? The thought burned in my chest. Did they all assume that? How could they all think of me that way?

  Well, it didn’t matter because I wouldn’t be taking the job. I slumped onto a stool at the kitchen island and took out the slip of paper. One look, and a short laugh tore from my throat. Alex’s father was right, the amount Benjamin Talbot was offering for a maid’s salary was absurd.

  Too good to be true.

  I wasn't an idiot, and I wasn't the sort of person who could be bought.

  The dining room bell rang and I said, “That’s probably Alex asking for the wine.”

  Jamison tugged at his rubber gloves, but I jumped off my stool and grabbed the bottle of red wine on the counter. Jamison turned back to his scrubbing, though I could feel his frown follow me as I went out the door.

  I peeked through the side door to the dining room and saw Benjamin Talbot laughing. At ease in the splendid dining room, he looked even more handsome than before. I estimated his age to fall somewhere in between Alex and Henry so he wasn’t entirely unappealing, far from it, actually, but as tempting as he was, my eyes drifted to Alex.

  Alex was laughing too, and when he did, the hint of a dimple appeared on his right cheek. He was telling a story, though what about, I couldn't tell. He punctuated details with his hands, hands that I could almost feel on me.

  He caught my stare from where I stood, and the longing look in his eyes melted my heart. Its molten heat seared through my body. When he looked at me like that, everything else vanished. I had to pause for what seemed like a full minute before I could continue into the room. When I did, Alex’s smile widened, and he stopped telling his story.

  “The wine you rang for?” I asked, holding out the bottle.

  “Yes…I mean, no.” Alex popped up out of his chair and pushed it back. He had a strange look on his face, one that I couldn't place. “We were just talking about Sonoma, and I wanted to grab a different bottle from the cellar.” He addressed the others at the table and said, “We’ll just be a minute.”

  With that, he took my by the arm and ushered me through the main dining room door.

  “Sorry, I just grabbed the bottle Jamison put out,” I said, confused about what was going on.

  Alex snatched the bottle, but I didn’t let go, clinging to it as he swept his other arm around me and pulled me close. His dimple appeared as he leaned down and crushed his mouth to mine, lips tasting and giving, tongues touching with delicious friction.

  My entire body lit up as I ran my free hand up into his hair and pulled him deeper into the kiss. Any doubts I had fled. Alex was what I wanted. I didn’t want to leave this house and work for Mr. Talbot or anyone else. Right now, all I wanted was Alex, whatever way I could have him, for however long he'd have me.

  Finally, he pulled back. “I’ve been waiting to do that all day.” He leaned his forehead against mine.

  Suddenly aware of the hard glass of the bottle poking into my chest, I asked, “What about the wine?”

  “If I take you down into the cellar,” Alex said, leaning close to talk against my lips, “we won’t make it back upstairs before midnight, much less dessert.”

  The kiss that followed was dessert itself. Perfectly sweet.

  “Mmm. That sounds nice, but you’re right. Can we talk after dessert?” I asked, trying to keep my thoughts from dissolving. I needed answers.

  “After,” he said, his breath hot against my wet lips, his body hard against mine.

  “We need to talk about you helping me find another position,” I said, tugging the wine bottle out of his hand and pulling back.

  Alex’s eyes were glazed over with desire, and it took him a moment to focus on what kind of position I meant. Then he blinked and said, “I heard Benji offer you a job. Jamison and I were thinking you’d want to work nearby.”

  “Why?” Suddenly, doubts filled my mind again, and I snapped back to reality. Why’d he want me out of his house? “Why would I want to switch jobs now? It’s practically the end of summer.”

  Alex pulled me back and smiled as he said, “So there’s no confusion.”

  “Well, I am confused,” I said honestly. “Mr. Talbot offered me a great salary, but I don’t know anything about him or why I would want to stop working for you.”

  “Benji is a great guy,” he said. “A little lonely, which is why he entertains all the time, but he’s a good guy.”

  “That's not what Jamison said.” And Jamison wouldn't have kept his opinions to himself, which made me wonder why Alex would say otherwise.

  He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, maybe not him. It was just too damn convenient.”

  I took another step back. I needed some distance to clear my thoughts. With him so close, and smelling so good, it was difficult to keep my head straight. “I need to know, is all of this job-switching so you and I can...date?”

  He stepped forward, caught in the heat still flaring between us. “Now I'm thinking maybe it’s not a good idea. There are definitely advantages to having you under the same roof.”

  His hand slid down my back, and I shivered. The hot desire between us was melting my resolve again, and my body pressed the length of his before another clear thought cooled me. It was nearly impossible for me to tell how Alex really felt when moments like this one happened all over the house at any time of day. It had to be just as hard for him to think straight. As long as I was so readily available to him, his true feelings would get lost in the haze of pure lust.

  “No, you're right,” I said, wrenching myself free before I could second-guess what I was doing. This needed to happen. “I should go.”

  I turned back towards the kitchen, but Alex caught my hand. “Chelsea, what’s wrong? I want you. I want you here as my guest, as my date, not my maid.” His thumb moved back and forth across my knuckles. “But I know you need the money for Karl, and I know you wouldn't let me just give it to you, or that's what I'd do. I want you to have another job so we can be together.”

  I wanted to believe him. A chance to make more money, as well as see Alex on an equal footing outside of his house and my maid’s position.

  “Please, Chelsea, don’t think it'd because I'm trying to push you away. I want you here, you know I do.” There was a note of desperation in his voice.

  “I know,” I said softly. “Go back to the dinner, and I’ll grab that pinot noir from Sonoma.”

  When I walked back into the dining room with the new bottle of wine several minutes later, and saw Benjamin Talbot’s bright smile, my decision was easy. He was a family friend, and the offer he made was to help Alex as much as me. He might've been a bit...overly familiar, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle for four weeks.

  I uncorked the wine, allowed Alex to taste it, then poured three glasses.

  “May I suggest a toast?” I asked.

  “Please,” Alex said, quirking an eyebrow.

  “A toast to Benjamin Talbot. I’m happy to accept your offer of employment, Mr. Talbot,” I said.

  Mr. Talbot and Henry grinned, but Alex’s smile slipped as he watched them raise their glasses to celebrate. I almost questioned my decision, but then I remembered Karl, and the money I needed, and I knew this was the only way to have that and maybe have Alex too.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Alex

  Jamison caught me standing in the pool, arms draped over the stone edge, my mind drifting away from the laps I intended to swim. He placed a mug of coffee on the patio table and threw a towel down on the deck in front of me.

  “Good morning?” he asked.

  “Not particularly,” I said, as I grabbed the towel and walked up the pool steps.

  “I thought you had a date with Chelsea last night?”

  I glared at him. Jamison knew full well I'd been in my office all night drinking, pacing, and doing anything but working. He knew I was pissed at myself. He didn’t even blink at my
scowl, just waited for me to unload my frustrations. I could be a pain in the ass like that, and he took it well. He knew me even better than my father did. Henry talked. Jamison listened, and I always counted on him for that.

  “Her boss couldn’t spare her,” I sneered. “Something about a big party coming up. What has Henry gotten her into?”

  Jamison handed me the mug, and we sat down at the patio table. I sipped the hot coffee and ground my teeth. I’d barely tasted the steaming liquid when I set the mug back on the table and pushed it away with disgust. “That tastes awful. What happened? Did our fancy coffee maker break?”

  Jamison just looked at me without a word.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Calmly, he said, “I know how you get. You’re like a petulant child when things aren’t going your way.”

  I sighed. “Sorry, you’re right. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

  “So what’s new, my dear boy?” There was a hint of a smile on his lips.

  I ran my hand through my hair and then reached for the coffee again. Fuck. I wanted to say it out loud, but I needed to stop acting like a spoiled brat and show Jamison a little more respect. I ran my finger over the rim of the smooth white porcelain coffee mug and finally said what was really bothering me, “I haven’t seen Chelsea in four days.”

  Jamison crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath, saying nothing, just watching as my fingers traced around the handle of the mug. It was his signature stance. The one that said, “go on,” without saying a word.

  So I continued, “The whole email thing is working for her rewrites of the movie script, but it’s not the same, around here, I mean…”

  “You miss her. Isn’t that a good thing?” he asked.

  I gave a short snort. “About as good as a hole in the head.”

  Jamison sat back folding his hands in his lap.

  “It’s hard to concentrate and get any work done, because, you're right. I miss her.”