by Julie Archer
“Not exactly. I guess the owner will be back when he’s finished on tour.”
“Oh. My God.” The penny dropped for Bronte. “You’re house-sitting for Mal Colten!”
“Ssssshhh, don’t let everyone know.” Piper looked around at the few people in the park near enough to have heard Bronte’s screech. Judging by their reactions, they either didn’t have a clue who he was or they hadn’t actually heard her.
“I can’t believe you’re working for Fortune’s Bay’s most famous resident. Have you met him yet?”
“He’s going to be away on tour for ages. His old housekeeper will be back by then anyway. She’s gone to look after her sick mother or something.”
Bronte was bouncing around like an excited puppy. “What’s his bedroom like? And his bathroom? God, just imagine him naked…”
Piper laughed. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t already had all of those thoughts. “I don’t know. I’m not allowed up to his floor.” She sighed. “He has an entire floor for his bedroom, and if the views from my room are anything to go by, then I imagine the ones from his are incredible.”
“Honey, if you were in his bedroom, I doubt you would be looking at the views.”
“Bronte!” Piper brought her hand up to her mouth. “I’m probably never going to meet the guy anyway.”
“You could totally sneak up to his room, right? I mean if he’s not going to be there, then who would know?”
Despite the tempting prospect, Piper knew she wouldn’t do that. She screwed up the bag her sandwich came in and tossed it into the trash.
Bronte followed suit and stood up. “I really need to get back to the shop. I’ll see you again soon. Don’t forget to keep me posted on all the Mal Colten gossip.”
Chapter 6
Mal unlocked the front door and dropped his holdall in the entrance hall. The smell of cooking pervaded his nostrils. His house sitter must have known that he was coming. He headed up the stairs, following his nose toward the delicious aroma that was emanating from the kitchen. As he reached the top, he heard laughter and the clink of glasses.
Who the hell was in his house?
His eyes were drawn to the girl with long black hair who sat at the head of the table. She was laughing at something the guy opposite her was saying. There was another couple at the table, hands resting on each other’s as they sipped wine from his glasses. Probably his wine, although a sneaky look at the label told him that the bottle was way cheaper than the ones he had in the cellar. He went back to the girl. Was she the woman that Therese hired? In his mind, he pictured her to be about thirty years older, much less pretty, and with a less attractive body. If it wasn’t her, who was it?
Mal cleared his throat. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?” His voice boomed through the open space.
The one he assumed to be Piper jumped up and nearly dropped her wine glass. “Omigosh, Mal…Mr Colten…” she stuttered. “I-I…didn’t realize you were coming home.”
“Clearly.” He folded his arms across his chest and fixed her with a glare. Her blue eyes fluttered back at him and he almost weakened. “Tell me, what are these people doing in my house?”
“Having dinner, I thought that would be obvious,” the guy who had been sitting opposite Piper chipped in and Mal turned his attention to him. “My sister invited us round.”
Mal looked back at Piper. “Did she now? And did she also tell you that invitations need to be run past me first?” Piper averted her gaze and Mal instantly realized that she hadn’t read through all the paperwork that Therese would no doubt have given her. It wasn’t that he was trying to be some kind of control freak; he wanted to be careful about who came into his home and when. He didn’t like the fact that she apparently hadn’t taken the job seriously. Or at least seriously enough to find out exactly what she should and shouldn’t be doing.
“What are you? Some kind of dictator?” Piper’s brother asked. He and the other couple still sat at the table.
“No. I’m her boss and the person who is currently paying her wages.” Mal approached Piper. “Or at least I am at the moment. That can change.” He let the insinuation sink in and watched as Piper went over to her brother and spoke in hushed tones. The guy shook his head and consulted the other two. There was some shoulder shrugging and a couple of whispers, but after a couple of minutes the three of them stood up.
Piper’s brother gave her a hug and scowled at Mal over her shoulder. “Piper, you call me if you need anything.”
“Josh, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you later.” Piper pushed him away and went to the top of the stairs with them. “Let me know you get home okay.”
Once the front door had slammed shut, Piper turned to face Mal. “That was just plain rude! How could you talk to me like that? You could have asked them to leave first and then spoken to me in private.”
Mal admired her feistiness. It had been a long time since someone had talked to him like that. Most of the women he encountered were either starstruck or trying too hard. It was refreshing to have someone stand up to him. Even if she was supposed to be working for him. He tried not to smile.
“Like I said to your brother, I’m paying your wages, and I’m not sure the job description covered giving dinner parties for your friends.”
“Your job description was about twenty pages long! All I’m meant to be doing is looking after your house and making sure your parcels are taken in.”
Mal laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Yeah, that’s all it is.” He rearranged his face into a more accepting smile. He was enjoying this exchange and wondered if he could get it to continue.
“Therese made it clear that you were going to be out on tour for the next couple of months.”
“Therese should have contacted you to tell you otherwise.”
They were just a couple of feet apart and Mal caught a hint of her perfume, a light yet spicy fragrance. It totally suited her.
“You should really clean up the kitchen.” He picked his words deliberately, wanting to antagonize her and keep the banter going.
Piper screwed up her face. “Yes, I probably should. But as you’re likely to fire me anyway, I’m not going to do it.” She turned on her heel and stalked toward the stairs to her room.
Mal watched her go, a little surprised she had walked away so easily. He hadn’t pegged her as a quitter. It was too soon to go after her, so instead he went over to the stove where something had been bubbling away on a very low heat. He lifted the lid and inhaled pasta, ham, mushrooms, and creamy sauce. He found a bowl and helped himself to a large portion before turning off the heat. He took it to the table, found a fresh glass, and poured himself some wine. As he took a bite, his eyes fell on the glorious view over the bay from where he sat—the exact view he had been missing. It never failed to inspire him, calm him, make him feel better about everything. An air of serenity enveloped him as he ate. He sipped the red wine and found it to be acceptable. It only took him a few minutes to finish the food, and he found himself going back to the pot for more. As he chewed on the deliciously flavored dish, his mind wandered to Piper. He had no intention of firing her. Not least because she made a mean bowl of pasta.
Chapter 7
Piper hid out in her room for as long as she could the following morning. Eventually hunger pangs got the better of her and she made her way to the kitchen shortly after nine.
Having missed out on dinner the previous evening, she hadn’t eaten since the sandwich she’d had with Bronte in the park at lunchtime, and her stomach growled. After she’d stormed off, she’d wrestled with a number of emotions. There was the embarrassment of owning up to the fact she hadn’t read any of the paperwork that Therese had given her, then the indignation she felt as Mal threw her friends out had given way to an undeniable attraction. She thought back to the searches she’d done on him and how he was totally hotter in the flesh. The photographs, both posed and candid, just didn’t do him justice.
When she had been too worked up
to be able to sleep the previous night, Piper had pulled out the sheaf of documents and pored over the words. The list of duties was pretty much as she had told Mal and that was accompanied by instructions on how to use the various appliances and alarm systems. She didn’t feel all that bad about what she’d said to him.
Piper entered the open-plan living area and was amazed to see that the table had been cleared and all the pans and knives she had used were clean and drying on the draining board. She was pretty sure that tidying up was on her list of duties and that if Mal were home, she was meant to prepare breakfast. So, she was confused to see the table loaded with croissants, bagels, fruit, jellies, cheeses, and coffee.
“I wanted to apologize for last night.”
Piper turned at the sound of Mal’s voice. He was standing at the top of the stairs, dressed in just a pair of shorts. His chest was tanned and lightly muscled, and Piper had to drag her gaze up to meet his eyes. He appeared unfazed by her attention. As he walked toward the table, he grabbed a T-shirt that was hanging over the back of one of the chairs and pulled it on over his head.
“Coffee?” he offered.
She nodded and slid into one of the chairs, reaching for a bagel. “Thank you.” She smeared cream cheese over the roll and bit into it, her empty stomach rejoicing at the appearance of food.
Mal came and sat beside her. He passed over one of the mugs and their fingers brushed. Piper drew back quickly, not expecting the sudden jolt of electricity that shot up her arm. She took another bite of the bagel as he helped himself to a buttery croissant and covered it in peanut butter.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot, Piper,” he said. “I’m sorry. I think the tour got to me more than I realized.”
Piper sipped her coffee. “You could say that. I wasn’t expecting you back so soon; Therese said you would be away for at least a couple of months.”
Mal glanced down at the table, and tried hard to avoid looking at Piper. “I should have been. Let’s just say things weren’t going as planned and I decided to cut it short.”
“What does that mean for all the people who bought tickets? Are they going to get a refund?” That hadn’t happened to Piper herself, but she had a few friends who had been victims of last-minute gig cancellations and it was always a struggle to get a payout.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess Boyd will deal with that.” He crammed more of his croissant into his mouth. “Anyway, I don’t really want to talk about it; let’s talk about you.” A few crumbs spilled out as he spoke.
His change of tack surprised her. She didn’t think he’d be interested in knowing about her. However, if he was going to be around the house more, there wasn’t much point in blanking him. “There’s not much to talk about.” Piper couldn’t resist the look of the sweet treats and reached over for a Danish. “I got let go from my job with a fashion and lifestyle magazine and had to come home. I got turned down for loads of jobs in town and then I saw this advertised. I wasn’t sure I could hack living at my brother’s place and this seemed to fit the bill on both counts.” Mal’s brows furrowed at the mention of the word ‘lifestyle.’ What was that about? She also didn’t know why she’d just told him all that. Surely, he wasn’t interested in what she did?
“What did you do for the magazine?” he persisted.
“Got other people lunch and coffee, mainly.” Piper hesitated, not knowing whether she was prepared to tell Mal about her dreams. After all, he was a famous rock star; why would he want to listen to her chattering on? “Which meant I was eminently suitable for the job here.” She shot him a sideways glance. His relaxed face didn’t look bored, at least not yet.
“Come on, surely you had more ambition than that? You seem like a smart girl.”
Reluctantly, Piper told him the truth. “I design jewelry. Or at least I try to. I have the sketches, and one day I’ll actually get the tools to make some of it. I’d love to be able to sell it here.”
“Then why don’t you make it happen?” Mal refilled their coffee mugs from the coffeepot on the table.
“I’ll need to find another job first.” Piper was filled with dread at the thought of trekking round the Bay again with her résumé, the only addition to it a couple of days house-sitting.
“Why do you need to do that?” He frowned at her.
“Now that you’re home, I’m guessing you don’t need me anymore.”
Mal met her eyes, his gaze boring into her. “You signed the contract, right?”
Piper nodded.
“Then unless you’ve done something wrong, I can’t get rid of you that easily.” His mouth curved up in a mischievous smile. “Despite last night’s blip, I think it would be nice to have someone around. Plus, I tasted that pasta you made last night; it was delicious and I’d hate to think I could never have it again.”
“Really? You still want me around?” Piper blinked, her eyes widening.
It was Mal’s turn to nod. “Alena was always here when I was home. She’d cook and tidy and take care of stuff while I played guitar and wrote songs. It wouldn’t be any different for you. And you’d have the time and space to work on your designs. I bet you couldn’t do that if you have to move back in with your brother.”
Piper couldn’t work out why Mal was being so nice. Just the previous evening he’d been horrible to her, Josh, Seb and Milla, and now this morning he was offering her the opportunity she wanted. It couldn’t just be because he liked her cooking? It would be nice not to have to look for another job and to actually spend the time on the thing she really wanted to be doing. He was also right about the thought of having to move back in with Josh.
“If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure. There’s just one condition…” The mischievous smile was back.
“What’s that?”
“That you make that yummy pasta at least once a week.”
Piper smiled back. “It’s a deal!”
They clinked their mugs together in celebration. A wave of relief washed over Piper—thank goodness he didn’t hate her.
Chapter 8
Mal drained the last of his coffee and glanced at Piper. She shifted around in her seat, almost as if she were waiting for him to give her permission to leave the table. But then she got up and started clearing away the remains of their breakfast and the dishes. He watched her puttering around the kitchen, putting things back in the cupboard and stacking the dishwasher. Despite the fact she had talked about a lifestyle publication, Piper was as far removed from Cora Appleby as it was possible to be. For a start, the way she tucked into a breakfast, loaded with carbs, was poles apart from watching Cora push a few grapes and nuts around her plate.
Cora was his most recent ex. They had met at a charity function around a year ago and hit it off instantly. She had approached Mal at the event to do an interview for her site. It wasn’t his usual thing, but he had been impressed by her confidence and sheer balls to simply come up and ask him to do it there and then, rather than going through his PR or management. The fact that she was absolutely gorgeous hadn’t escaped his notice either. It quickly became apparent that they weren’t totally compatible: she was a vegan, he loved steak; she was teetotal, he loved Jack; she practiced yoga, he charged about a stage for a living. The arguments were spectacular until she couldn’t take it anymore—something about it messing with her chakras. At the time, it had been intense and all-consuming.
As he watched Piper tidying up, he couldn’t help but mentally compare her to Cora. In some respects, they were similar, but for the most part were poles apart. Seeing Piper’s reluctance to tell him about her dreams was endearing. He’d been in Cora’s presence for only a few minutes before she told him what she wanted. The day stretched out ahead of him. For the first time in ages, he didn’t have anyone to please or anywhere to be. There was a part of his brain that was nagging him to go online and read about the fallout of his decision to quit the tour, but the larger, more dominant part was telling him to forget about it,
at least for the day. He’d been on the verge of burnout; it was time to chill out and do something for himself. But what? He didn’t like the idea of wandering around the Bay and having tourists, and locals, point at him or ask for selfies. One of the reasons he came home was to appreciate the beauty and nature of the Bay. Maybe with a clever disguise, he could get out for a run.
Mal headed up to his room. He decided not to shower before he went out—there seemed little point as he was going to get all hot and sweaty anyway. He stripped off his shorts and T-shirt and riffled through his closet for some suitable running gear. As he closed the closet door, he bumped straight into Piper.
“Oh! Mal, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were here!” Piper held an armful of his dirty laundry, her face turning redder and redder as she stared at him clad in just a tiny pair of boxers.
Mal grabbed a towel to cover himself. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I wasn’t dressed.” He couldn’t help but notice that her gaze travelled up his body and checked him out. He thought he heard her whisper ‘don’t be’, although he might have imagined it. “You don’t have to do that. I’m perfectly capable of putting clothes in the washer.”
Piper shook her head. “It’s fine, it was in the job description and you’ve only just got home from tour…” She ground to a halt. “I’ll sort it.” She turned as if to go, but then looked back. “What are your plans for today?”
“Why?”
“I want to know what time to have lunch and dinner ready.”
For a moment, Mal thought she might have asked about his plans because she wanted to join him or for them to do something together. He realized he was being silly. She was just asking because she needed to cook for him. He shook his head. “I’m going for a run now and I’ll probably mess around with a guitar this afternoon.”
“I thought you’d be sick of that after being on tour.”
She might have a point, thought Mal. Maybe it would be good to have a day off, do something totally different to what he would usually do. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said. “A light lunch would be nice: some meats and cheeses, olives, that sort of thing. Then I can carry on working out later.”