Michelle Douglas – The Maid, The Millionaire And The Baby (страница 8)

Imogen halted from her rifling of bags. ‘I want to apologise for my rudeness earlier.’

She’d been rude?

‘I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that for calling me stupid.’

‘I did not call you stupid.’

‘You know what I mean.’

She’d only been responding to his rudeness. ‘I shouldn’t have been so short with you.’

One shoulder lifted. ‘I’m a bit sensitive on the subject, and I shouldn’t have flared up like that.’

He stared at her for a moment. ‘Why are you sensitive?’

She ducked her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

He had a feeling it mattered a great deal.

He wasn’t sure what she saw in his face when she glanced back up, but whatever it was had her heaving out a sigh. ‘I don’t think I’m stupid, Mr Coleman. I know I’m not. I’m just a bit sensitive about it at the moment because last week, before I came here, I ran into an old boyfriend—my high-school sweetheart.’

From the look on her face he’d been anything but a sweetheart.

‘When he found out I had no plans to go to university—like him—he told me I was…’

‘Stupid?’

‘I believe the words he used were uneducated yokel.’ She shrugged. ‘Naturally I kicked his sorry butt to the kerb.’

‘Smart move.’

‘But, you know, that was seven years ago, and people grow up, so when I saw him last week I said hello.’ Her lips thinned. ‘That wasn’t quite so smart.’

A hard ball settled in the pit of his stomach. ‘He called you stupid again?’

‘Implied it.’

What a jerk! ‘Why?’

She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

He didn’t believe that for a moment.

‘I’m not stupid and what I’m doing with my life isn’t stupid or risky. It’s just…his voice has wormed its way inside my head, and I haven’t been able to shake it. I’m sorry you were the one who had his head snapped off, though.’

‘I have broad shoulders.’ He shrugged. ‘And if you want the truth, I came back early from my run to apologise for being so grumpy.’

She folded her arms and stared at him. ‘You know what? You’re not the slightest bit difficult or temperamental.’

What on earth had made her think he was?

Katherine. The answer came to him swiftly. Katherine didn’t want him messing with her niece, and he had no intention of giving the older woman cause for concern. He might not be difficult and temperamental, and Imogen might not be flighty and irresponsible. But their lives were poles apart. And he had every intention of keeping them that way.

CHAPTER THREE

THE MYRIAD EXPRESSIONS that chased themselves across Jasper’s face pierced Imogen with unexpected force. Her heart beat too hard—a pounding that rose into her throat and made it ache.

She didn’t bother tempering the sympathy that raged through her. She doubted she’d be successful even if she tried. He’d stared at his nephew with a mixture of such shock and wonder, pain and hope and desolation, that it had almost overwhelmed her. She understood the shock and the hope, but not the pain and desolation. And certainly not the fear.

A bit of panic—yes.

Worry and anxiety—absolutely.

But not that bone-crushing fear that had seemed to be directed both inwards and outwards at the same time. She’d been desperate to rid him of that expression, so she’d overshared. Again.

But that was better than staring at his awful expression and doing nothing about it. The lines fanning out from serious grey eyes were still strained and the grooves bracketing his mouth were still deep, but he no longer looked so worn or overwhelmed.

The grey of those eyes was quite extraordinary. She’d never seen eyes like them—silver in some lights, they held a hint of blue in others, but could deepen to charcoal and concentrate so intensely you felt spotlighted…and seen, really seen.

‘All right, Ms Hartley, let’s try your suggestion and see if, between the three of us, we can manage. I’ll increase your and your aunt’s salaries for as long as the baby is here and—’

‘Oh, that’s not necessary.’ He was already paying her a generous salary.

‘You’ll both be taking on extra duties and I have no intention of taking advantage of your good natures. We’ll do things by the book. You’ll be compensated accordingly.’

He wanted this to be a work arrangement, rather than a favour between friends. Which suited her fine because they weren’t friends. She recalled the awful expression that had overtaken his face and couldn’t help thinking that the one thing Jasper Coleman could do with at the moment, though, was a friend.

She glanced at George, noting the way he worried at his dummy. ‘He’s due for his bottle.’

‘You’d better take him, then.’

She suspected that if he’d had more confidence in handling babies, he’d have simply handed him over, and she’d have had no choice but to take him. As it was, he stared at her expectantly, evidently expecting her to obey him immediately, and she had to fight her instant response to do exactly that. ‘I will, but first I want to make a request.’

His brows rose. Yep. He’d expected her to jump to do his bidding immediately.

It’s what he’s paying you for, Imogen.

‘Is it possible for us to drop the Mr Coleman and Ms Hartley and call each other by our first names? I know I’m only a housemaid with a promotion to a third of a nanny’s position while you’re a genius billionaire, but I can promise you I won’t forget the distinction. The thing is, I’ve never worked in an environment that maintained such formalities, and I just know I’m going to slip up and call you Uncle Jasper to little George here at some point. “Go to Uncle Jasper, Georgie,”’ she sing-songed to demonstrate what she meant. ‘It’d be really nice if we could eliminate that worry right now.’

She couldn’t work out if he was trying not to smile or trying not to frown.

‘You don’t look particularly worried, Ms Hartley.’

Was that a no? ‘I can assure you that I’m shaking on the inside.’

She bit back a sigh when he didn’t smile. Mind you, he didn’t frown either. She tried again. ‘You and my aunt call each other by your first names. I promise not to take any liberties just because we move to a more informal mode of address.’

He stared at her for several long seconds. ‘Are you familiar with the movie The Sound of Music?’ he finally asked.

‘Intimately.’ It was one of her favourites. ‘An oldie but a goodie.’

‘I’m vividly reminded of the moment in the film where the captain asks Maria if she was this much trouble at the abbey.’

A bark of laughter shot out of her. ‘And she answers, “Oh, much more, sir.”’ She glanced at the baby in his arms. ‘I have to say I’m very glad you weren’t just landed with seven children.’

As if they couldn’t help it, his lips lifted. Her pulse shimmied and all the fine hairs on her arms Mexican-waved.

‘Very well, Imogen, first names it is. Perhaps now you’ll be good enough to take the baby?’

He angled the side holding the baby towards her, and she moved closer, ordering various parts of herself to stop tripping the light fantastic. ‘Hey there, beautiful boy.’ George came willingly, but not before Imogen had sucked in a deep breath of Jasper-scented air.

He smelled of the sea and the sweat from his run and something darker and spicier, like cardamom. The smell of sweat especially should’ve had her nose wrinkling, but it didn’t. She edged away before she could be tempted to drag in another appreciative lungful.

His sister’s letter still sat unopened on the arm of the sofa. Why hadn’t he torn it open and devoured its contents yet? She adjusted her weight from one leg to the other. ‘May I make a suggestion?’

‘You may.’

‘I think you should read your sister’s letter. And before you accuse me of taking those liberties that I promised I wouldn’t, I want to assure you that I’m not trying to pry. Your family’s concerns are none of my business. But we need to know if George has any medical issues or medications that he’s taking or any allergies.’ She lifted the schedule of feeding and nap times she’d found in the same bag that held some ready-made bottles of formula. ‘None of those things are mentioned here, which probably means that there’s nothing to worry about,’ she added quickly at the look of absolute horror that passed across his face. ‘But with knowledge being power and all that,’ she finished on a weak shrug.

Surely no mother would send her baby somewhere so remote—so far from medical facilities—if he had a known medical condition like asthma, though. At least…not a good mother. She glanced at the baby in her arms. Sympathy, compassion, pity and foreboding all churned in her stomach. Why on earth would any mother send her child away? Was Jasper’s sister a good mother or—?

‘Why are you frowning, Imogen?’

She started. ‘Oh, I…’

‘I’d rather know. Especially if it pertains to the baby.’

He hadn’t called the baby by his name yet—not once. What was that about? Though she wasn’t silly enough to ask that question either…yet.