Madeleine was beautiful.
And she made his heart race, sprinting at a million miles minute, as if it was trying to climb right out of his chest and into her arms. With her hair pined up in an elegant chignon, showing off her long neck, she’d attracted the attention of more than her fair share of men, sniffing and predatory, but losing interest once they learned she was Geraldine’s nanny.
Good riddance.
Hank didn’t want anyone taking advantage of her.
“.....don’t you think?” Cheryl asked.
Hank wrenched his gaze away from the pair in the kitchen and fixed his eyes on Cheryl, one eyebrow raised expectantly, waiting for his answer. “I’m sorry. I was just checking on Geraldine. What did you say?”
“I said, I think you’ve mentioned to impress the international clients. There’s nothing like a fancy party to seal the deal,” Cheryl said, leaning forward and delicately placing one manicured nail atop his chest. “I’m so glad I ran into you.”
Hank smiled politely. “It’s great to see you too, Cheryl.”
“How about we have lunch sometime?” Cheryl inquired. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”
Hank paused, an odd twinge in the center of his chest, Madeleine’s face popping into his mind. It wasn’t as if he was cheating on her. After all, they only had one night together, and he’d stayed clear of her path since then, avoiding the inevitable talk using any and all means necessary.
Yes, he was well aware he was taking the coward’s route, the easy way out by delaying what was sure to be an awkward situation all around, but he didn’t even know what to say.
In all honesty, he did like Madeleine, a great deal in fact, but it didn’t change their situation, and one small shift in their dynamic could end up having disastrous consequences, the ripple effect spilling over into Geraldine’s life.
He was not a perfect man, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he did do his best to make sure he was a good father, and part of that included keeping any woman in his life far away from his daughter, at least until he was sure.
Not that there had been, none that had mattered at least, but Madeleine was different. She was there, present in his life, and in his mind, occupying every waking thought, and very much a large part of Geraldine’s as well, a fixture.
Regardless of his own personal feelings, he had to tread carefully.
“I’m not sure if I have any free time coming up,” Hank lied. Cheryl was a good friend, and he didn’t want to hurt her, but he most certainly didn’t want to be alone with her in the middle of a restaurant.
Actually, he’d much rather take Madeleine out, but he couldn’t do that either.
“Why don’t I give your assistant a call sometime and have her set something up?” Cheryl suggested, undeterred. “Is that Raquel Du Lang? I have to go and say hi, please excuse me.”
In a flash, she was gone, leaving him alone in the corner with his drink almost completely gone, and a house full of guests he didn’t know. His gaze connected with Madeleine’s, and he raised the glass, tilting it in her direction, but she turned away, giving him her back.
He gulped down the drink and loosened his tie, knowing it was going to be a long night.
“MADELEINE,” HANK CALLED out, stretching out across his couch. “Could you come in here for a moment?”
She was a fleeting shadow outside his door, holding her breath, so as not to disturb him, but he’d seen her anyway, trying to make her way up the stairs for some shut eye.
Seconds later, she stood at the door to his study, her hands clasped behind her back, her expression neutral. “You wished to see Mr. Lorum?”
Hank set down the drink from his hand and patted the seat next to him, turning his attention away from the fireplace and towards her. He smiled up at her, a lazy smile that stretched from ear to ear, his blood singing in his ears, head swimming.
Madeleine looked reluctant, but eventually took several steps then perched near the edge, her back ramrod and straight. “I’d like to stand, if that’s okay.”
“We’re not in the military,” Hank joked, his words slurring together. “You can unclench and relax your shoulders.”
Madeleine pressed her mouth into a thin line but said nothing.
“Look, I know I haven’t behaved in the best way, and you deserve better than that,” Hank began. “It’s just that I’ve never been in this situation before.”
“I’m not a situation,” Madeleine responded, flatly. “I’m a human being, and I deserve the truth.”
Hank pressed his fingers to his temples, a headache beginning in the back of his skull. “You’re right, you do, and I don’t mean you’re a situation. I mean the position we’re in. You’re my employee, my daughter’s nanny for Christ’s sake, there’s no way around that.”
“I am aware of my position.”
Hank squinted. “No, you don’t understand. I don’t want it to seem like I’m taking advantage of you. I don’t care that you’re the nanny. The only thing I worry about is Geraldine. I don’t want her to be affected by this.”
Madeleine’s features softened, her shoulders sagging. “I don’t want her to be affected either.”
“Please come and sit,” Hank repeated, hating the plea in his voice. She sighed and dropped onto the couch, keeping a few inches between them, a few wayward locks of hair escaping her up-do.
Of their own accord, his hands reached forward, and he found himself tucking the hair behind her ear, briefly lingering nearly the dimple before he drew away, the knot in his stomach unfurling.
“So, what are we going to do?” Madeleine whispered, fixing her gaze on a spot in front of her, her hands clenched next to her, hardly breathing. “I don’t regret it, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t regret it either,” Hank informed her. “But I do apologize for my behavior afterwards. It wasn’t nice of me.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Madeleine agreed.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Hank vowed, craning his neck to look at her, studying her features, illuminated by the soft light emanating from the lamp in the corner of the room, his fingers itching to touch her delicate skin, to reacquaint himself with her mouth.
Frustrated, he withdrew his hands and placed them underneath his thighs, not trusting himself to behave in the slightest. Madeleine watched the gesture, a flicker of amusement lighting up her features before she hastily glanced away again.
“I don’t want any promises, Hank,” Madeleine answered. “I don’t want anything you can’t give freely.”
Hank exhaled. “I know, but I don’t know what the right thing to do is. I don’t want to hurt Geraldine, and I’m afraid of what’ll happen if she finds out, or the consequences if it doesn’t work out.”
Madeleine leaned forward and rested her head in her hands. “I wish I could say I don’t understand, but I do. Geraldine is young, and I have no interest in replacing her mother. The last thing I want is for her to feel that way.”
“You’re incredible,” Hank blurted out, his hand darting out to reach for hers, his thumb dancing on the inside of her wrist. “I’m serious, by the way. Your first and primary concern is for someone other than yourself, a child you care for who isn’t even your own. Not many people are like that.”
Madeleine shrugged, a soft blush stealing across her cheeks. “I’ve met a lot of people who are her, and I don’t care if Madeleine isn’t mine. I love her all the same, and I don’t want to hurt her. I hope you know that.”
“I know,” Hank assured her, covering the distance between them on the couch. Slowly, he brought his other hand up to rest atop her shoulder, resting it light and relaxing when she didn’t shrug him off.
In fact, she drew closer, snuggling against his side, her face pressing into his shirt, the smell of her washing over him.
“Geraldine has to come first,” Hank murmured, running his fingers through her hair. “I think we can both agree to that.”
Madeleine
nodded.
“For Geraldine’s sake, I think we should keep this to ourselves,” Hank suggested, tasting acid in the back of his mouth. He hated the suggestion, wanted to set it on fire and throw out the window, but he knew that it made the most sense.
He leaned back and tilted her head up, looking into her eyes. “I’m not ashamed of you, Madeleine. I would be proud to have a woman like you on my arms, but I need to think of my daughter before I think of myself.”
Madeleine swallowed. “I understand.”
“You do?”
“I wish I didn’t, but I do. For now, it’s better to keep it a secret.”
Chapter 4
Madeleine.
Honestly, she had no idea why she said yes.
She knew better, of course she did, she knew plenty of people who’d agreed to sneak around for one reason or other, and the end result was always the same. Keeping a relationship in the shadows, even with the best of intentions, spelled out doom, like pouring poison on it steadily and expecting it to bloom.
No, she didn’t want that for herself and Hank.
In fact, she wanted more. In the span of a few months, she’d grown to care about him, more than any other man she’d ever been with, and although it frightened her, she was also excited.
He made her feel invincible, like there was nothing in the world she couldn’t take on with him by her side, and she was high on that feeling, drunk on the belief that together they could conquer mountains.
But he was right.
As much as she didn’t want to admit it, as much as she wanted to run away from it, press her fingers to her ears and pretend it didn’t exist, blocking it out completely, he was right.
Geraldine needed to come first.
Regardless of their feelings for each other, she’d already been through a lot as a five year old, and the last thing she needed was for the world around her to implode because her nanny and father didn’t put her interests first.
Already, Madeleine felt selfish, the guilt sloshing around in the pit of her belly, but she hoped that with time, things would be different. In the meantime, she would simply do her best to make the most out of a bad situation.
Besides, plenty of great relationships were forged in the shadows.
Or at least she thought so.
Madeleine gave a small shake of her head, lowered her Kindle and looked over at Geraldine who stood in the center of the pool, a far off look on her face, distracted since she’d woken up that morning.
All through breakfast, she’d stayed quiet, her head galaxies away, and now instead of the usual floating around and chattering about nonsense, she was completely silent.
“Are you alright, Gerry?” Madeleine called out.
Geraldine blinked and looked over at her. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?” Madeleine set the Kindle down on the deck chair, swung her legs over the side, and walked over to the edge of the pool. “You seem kind of sad today.”
Geraldine frowned. “How would you know?”
Madeleine reeled back, the gentle smile on her face staying in place. “Because I know you. You’re my friend.”
Geraldine crossed her arms over her chest. “Then why are you making me do things I don’t want to do?”
“You don’t want to swim? That’s okay, we can do something else.”
Geraldine uncrossed her arms and swam in the direction of the stairs, slowly pulling herself out. “I want to do something else.”
With that, she stalked in the general direction of the house, her shoulders squared, and waves of negative energy rolling off of her. Madeleine paused to pick up her Kindle then hurried after her, taking the stairs two at a time until they were outside her room, and Geraldine pushed the door open.
“I can give myself a shower,” Geraldine decided, stiffly.
Madeleine nodded. “Why don’t I just wait outside the door in case you need me?”
Geraldine stepped into the bathroom, gave her a withering look and scowled. “You’re not my mother.”
“Of course not, Gerry,” Madeleine assured her. “I’m only trying to help.”
Geraldine gave her a long look before she spun around and got out of her suit. Madeleine took a step backwards, left the door ajar and stood, shoving her hands in her pockets. Every few minutes, she peaked in to check on her, but aside from occasionally moving forward, Geraldine just stood there, a sad expression on her features.
Something was definitely wrong, but she couldn’t for the life of her, figure out what it was. After all, nothing unusual had happened, not to her knowledge at least, and certainly nothing to warrant such a sour mood.
Finally, after thirty minutes, Geraldine emerged in her bathrobe, steam rising off of her skin, and the smell of flowers following in her wake. Madeleine gave her a smile and helped her get dressed, all the while attempting to draw her into conversation.
To no avail.
“How about we do some drawing after this?” Madeleine suggested, injecting her tone with as much enthusiasm as possible. “And afterwards we can watch one of your favorite movies. I haven’t seen Beauty and the Beast in a while, so I’d love to see it.”
Geraldine shrugged. “Whatever.”
She hopped off the bed and walked out of the room, without pausing to check if Madeleine was behind her. Concern filled her as she followed in the little girl’s wake, running through every scenario in her head before discarding it.
Physically, Geraldine was fine, having had her breakfast, and engaged in her exercise, and there was no sign of an asthma attack. Obviously, whatever was gnawing away at her was something else, likely on her mind, but without knowing the inner workings of Geraldine’s head, there was no way for her to figure it out.
Not without prying, and for the first time in a while, Gerry wasn’t in a sharing mood. After climbing down the stairs, and into the playroom, Geraldine stopped in the center of the room, looked around then sank onto the floor, pulling her legs up underneath her.
Madeleine reached for sheets of paper and the crayons, setting them out in front of her as she always did. Geraldine ignored her and bent over the paper, her fingers flying across the sheet.
Reluctantly, she drew away from Gerry and pulled out a chair from the table, sinking into it and resting her head in her hands, wishing she had the answers, or at least some of them.
It hurt her to see Geraldine like this.
“WHY AREN’T YOU WATCHING the movie?” Madeleine whispered, leaning across the couch. She turned away from the screen and looked at Geraldine who was sprawled at the other end of the couch, her head tilted back to gaze at the ceiling, having barely touched her food at dinner.
“I don’t feel like it,” Geraldine mumbled.
Madeleine picked up the remote and hit the pause button. “Okay, why don’t we do something else then? Would you like me to read you something?”
“No.”
“Draw something?”
“No.”
“How about we go sit in the garden then?”
“I don’t want to do anything,” Geraldine snapped, shooting Madeleine an irritated look before she returned to her earlier position. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
Madeleine grimaced, slid her legs out from underneath her and walked over to Geraldine, crouching in front of her. “What’s wrong, Gerry? Do you want to talk about it?”
“You always want to talk,” Geraldine grumbled. “I don’t want to talk.”
“But I can help,” Madeleine offered. “Why don’t we—?”
“No,” Geraldine interrupted, her voice climbing up an octave, full of hurt and anger. “I don’t want to do anything, okay?”
Madeleine drew back and stood up, spotting William passing by in the hallway. She gestured for him to stop and hurried over, half leaning out of the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, William, but Gerry is having a bad day, and I can’t figure out why. Do you have any clue what it might be?”
William scratched hi
s head. “I’m not sure, Ms. Wright. She’s not interested in any of her usual activities?”
Madeleine shook her head. “No, and she refuses to let me know. Should I call Mr. Lorum?”
William paused, comprehension dawning on his face. “Today is the seventh of July, isn’t it?”
Madeleine nodded. “Yes, it is. Why?”
William’s expression changed, sadness lurking in the depths of her eyes. “It’s the anniversary of her mother’s death. It’s only been three years, so Gerry would’ve been too young to remember much, but she insisted that she learn the date as soon as she started learning numbers.”
Madeleine blew out a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder where Geraldine lay inert, the saddest five year old she’d ever seen. “I don’t know how to help her.”
“Sometimes the best thing to do is just be there,” William advised, sympathy coating his tone. “She probably doesn’t even realize why she’s lashing out and can’t control it. Just comfort her, Ms. Wright. At least until Mr. Lorum gets home. He’ll know what to do.”
“Okay, yeah, I can do that. Thank you, William.”
He tilted his head in her direction, shot a long look in Geraldine’s direction then walked off, disappearing around the corner and into the rest of the house. Madeleine stood for a moment, uncertainty flickering with her until she pushed herself away from the door and headed back towards Geraldine, lowering herself onto the floor.
“I know what day today is, Gerry,” Madeleine murmured, stretching herself forward and running her fingers over Gerry’s face. “It’s okay to be sad, you know, and to miss your mommy. I’m sure she misses you too.”
Geraldine’s head snapped up. “I don’t want to be sad.”
“I know you don’t,” Madeleine replied, moving her fingers from Geraldine’s face to her hair. “But it’s okay if you are.”
Geraldine’s expression darkened. “No, I hate it, and I hate you.”
From Loss To Love Box Set Page 6