One Real Man (Entangled Bliss) ) (11 page)

She had to get out of here. Owen and Heidi were bringing out the worst in her.

…

Monday morning the poached eggs were done to perfection—firm on the outside, warm and runny on the inside. The toast was crisp, the orange juice sweet, the coffee just right, but Owen had little appetite. After picking at his meal, he carried the remains back to the kitchen. He had a chore to complete.

Paige sat at the kitchen table writing out a list. She glanced up in surprise. “Anything the matter with your breakfast?” She looked pointedly at his half-finished plate.

“No, it was fine. You know your way around a poached egg these days.” He set the tray down next to the sink. “We need to talk.”

Instantly her expression grew cagey. “Is it about the weekend? Did I do something wrong?”

Several things about the past weekend had rankled him, but something else had lurked beneath the irritations, something he didn’t care to examine too closely because he suspected he wouldn’t like what he found.

“It’s Heidi, isn’t it?” Her chin was up, her expression defensive. He realized she’d taken his silence as confirmation she’d done something wrong. “I did try to be friendly to her.”

And Heidi had tried, too, but like denim jeans and country clubs, the two women just didn’t gel. He shook his head. “It’s not about last weekend. I need to talk about this coming weekend.”

She frowned. “Is Heidi coming back?”

If he didn’t know any better, he’d suspect she was jealous, but that made no sense. “Someone else is coming. Someone much more important. You know who Gordon Asquith is, don’t you?”

“Gordon Asquith?
He’s
coming here for the weekend?” She seemed genuinely impressed. “Wow. He
is
a big deal.”

Owen gave her a brief outline of the circumstances surrounding the visit. “Asquith’s personal assistant will email me with the exact details, but basically he’s arriving here Saturday morning and departing Sunday, so he’ll only be staying twenty-four hours, but it’s important we get everything right.”

“Yes, he’s an eccentric character. Intimidating, too.”

“You know him?”

“When I was working in Sydney, I organized a party where he was the guest of honor. Everyone bent over backward making sure everything was perfect for him.”

Owen expelled a whistle as his spirits rose. “That’s great. You’ll be able to give me the inside skinny on the man.” The weekend ahead had loomed like a root canal appointment, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Paige would be his secret weapon, funneling him inside knowledge on his important guest.

But why did she have to be secret at all? Why did she have to hide behind the scenes when she was so good to look at?

He breathed in deep as his sudden idea took hold of him. Was it stupid or an inspired brain wave? Would she even go for it?

“I’m not sure I like that look on your face.” Paige tapped a pencil against her chin. “What scheme are you hatching?”

He moved closer, his instinct to grasp her by the arms, but at the last moment he came to his senses and pulled up short. “How about this for a scheme? You act as my hostess for the weekend. You know what this Asquith guy is like. You can help me avoid all the pitfalls. Plus, you can do this schmoozing stuff in your sleep—just look at how you handled that councilor. You’d be invaluable to me, Paige.” He reached for her hands, but remembered himself and spread his arms wide. “What do you say?”

“Well…” She chewed on the pencil for a few seconds. “I suppose I could do it.”

Just in time he stopped himself sweeping her into his arms. “Thanks. I really appreciate that.”

Shrugging, she went back to her list, as if he’d merely asked her to pick up an extra bunch of grapes. He pulled out the chair next to her and sat down.

“There’s something else I need to ask you,” he said.

“Yes?” she asked warily.

“There’s a lot riding on this weekend visit. I don’t want anything to go wrong. So I need you to give me some coaching beforehand.”

“Coaching in what?”

Couldn’t she figure that out herself? He waved impatiently. “Etiquette, manners, social conventions, that sort of bullshit.”

Her gray eyes glimmered. “Well, for a start, don’t call it bullshit.”

“It’s bullshit to me, but I have to learn it.” He breathed out deeply. “Come on, Paige. Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not a blue blood. I don’t move in the circles you do. I’m rough and gruff, and I’m comfortable with that, but just for this one weekend, I need to be someone different. I need to be the kind of guy you’d go out with.”

He stopped short.
Shit, where the hell had that come from?
He plowed on, “I need to be slick and polished. I need to sell myself to this Gordon Asquith.”

A frown had settled on her forehead. “I don’t know…”

Her dubious air had him scratching his chin. “That bad, huh?” When her eyebrows rose in query, he drawled, “You don’t think I could become slick and polished.”

“No—”

“Then what?” He leaned forward. “I know what it is. Deep down, you don’t want me to succeed. You want me to stay where I belong, isn’t it?”

“That’s not true.”

The pencil shook in her hand, and it struck him that she was more upset than she let on. As she glanced away, he caught a glimpse of her troubled expression, and his indignation drained away. He reached for her hand and covered it with his, instinct taking over.

“What is it?”

She looked down at his hand, so large and dark, enveloping hers. He felt her fingers twitch; for a second he thought she was going to twine them through his, but then she slipped her hand away and tucked it under the table.

“I’d be happy to give you some tips.”

The vulnerability was gone, swept under her composed mask. He stared at her, searching for that unexpected chink in her armor, knowing he wouldn’t find it. Paige was an expert at disguising her feelings.

“Thanks.” He nodded, still mystified by her. “I’ll pay you extra for your troubles. What’s the going rate for a PR consultation?”

She dismissed his question with a wave of her hand. “That’s not necessary.”

Great. Another social blunder.

He took a breath. “I thought we could take a trip to Sydney sometime this week and get myself some suitable clothes.”

Her gloom disappeared as her face lit up. “Oh, a makeover!”

“No, just something more spiffy than my usual gear.”

She didn’t appear to be listening to him. “Those nerdy shirts of yours have been driving me crazy. I know just the place to take you. Oh, and shoes! You need proper shoes.”

Proper shoes? His shoes were just fine, thank you very much. But he could see it was no use protesting. Besides, he’d asked for her advice, so he’d best take it. She looked enthused by the idea of buying him new clothes, and the more he thought about it, the more he warmed to the idea. He loathed shopping, but he’d be with Paige for an entire day. That was a bonus.

“Are you free this Thursday?” he asked.

Maybe if they spent time together doing something she enjoyed, it would ease the strain between them. He didn’t know what he wanted them to become; he only knew the current situation was grinding on his nerves. In Sydney, they wouldn’t be housekeeper and employer. They’d be equals. They could have fun. Maybe he’d take her out to lunch at Bondi Icebergs and they could talk.

“Sure.” She paused. “Actually, I was going to Sydney this Thursday anyway. I have a lunch date.”

The muscles in the back of his neck tensed. “Who with?”

“Mike, my former manager at Focus Marketing.”

Now he could barely move his neck. “Didn’t realize you’d started job hunting already.”

“I haven’t started in earnest. I called Mike just for a chat, and he suggested we meet for lunch. Nothing formal, really.”

Why did he feel as though a ten-ton truck had sideswiped him? From the beginning he’d known Paige was only here short-term. There was no earthly reason why she’d want to continue being his housekeeper any longer than necessary.

His neck muscles cracked in protest as he forced himself to nod. “You’ll let me know in advance before you quit? I’ll need to organize a replacement.”

“Of course…” Her eyes narrowed. He sensed she wanted to say something more, but she dipped her head and began doodling a flower on her list.

“So you’re over the whole video thing?” he asked abruptly.

Her pencil stilled midway through a petal. Resolute eyes met his. “I don’t know about that, but I do know I can’t hide forever.”

“This Mike guy. Does he know about the incident?”

“I’m sure he does, but he didn’t mention it. Though I’m sure he’ll bring it up at some point.”

She sucked in her cheeks, and for a moment he saw her nagging doubts. In marketing and PR she dealt with a lot of people, and many of them wouldn’t be too polite. Would she be able to handle the gossip, the sly whispers?

“You could always change careers,” he offered.

“No.” She sat straighter. “I like marketing, and believe it or not, I am good at it.” Gathering up her list, handbag, and keys, she got to her feet. “It’ll be difficult at first, but I’ll reestablish myself in Sydney.” She looked pointedly at him. “After all, I can’t stay here forever.”

…

Paige walked away from Owen, hoping he had no inkling of the disquiet boiling inside her. Disappointment, too. She’d been meaning to tell him about her appointment with Mike, but she hadn’t expected him to react the way he did, which was not to react at all. He hadn’t turned a hair at her imminent departure, just asked for sufficient warning so he could find a replacement housekeeper. After everything that had passed between them—the conflict, the tension, the attraction, the mind-blowing kisses—he was ready to dismiss her in the blink of an eye. She was just a holdover from his past, a minor distraction, a little diversion.

This meeting with her former boss couldn’t have come at a better time. In Heidi she’d seen the type of woman who suited Owen, and she realized how stupid it was to get carried away with him. Yes, that day in the cottage she would have fallen into bed with him, no problem and no regrets. But that day had been an aberration. She hadn’t been herself, but now she knew she had to get away from Burronga and from Owen.

She jumped into her car and drove off quickly. Running errands in town would calm her. But her nerves wouldn’t settle as she mulled over the upcoming weekend helping Owen host Gordon Asquith. Even if Owen didn’t care if she left, she still wanted to help him because, if nothing else, she owed him.

But schmoozing their VIP guest wouldn’t be a walkover. Gordon Asquith was pompous, arrogant, and caustic, and Owen would have to bite his tongue if he wanted to snag the potential investor. Could she help him manage that? He’d asked her to coach him in the social niceties that Asquith expected. He was even prepared for her to choose new clothes for him. But could someone as strong-willed as Owen change even for a couple of days?

Did she even want him to change?

Chapter Eight

The dry-cleaning was dropped off, and she’d just purchased a new paintbrush from the hardware store. Next on her list was the grocery shopping, but Paige needed a quick break. She was in the middle of Burronga, outside the bookstore. As she stood on the sidewalk debating where to go for coffee, a male voice spoke just behind her.

“Hi, Paige.”

She turned to find Nate Hardy behind her, dressed in a smart suit and polished shoes. He seemed almost friendly today.

“Hello.” She paused, aware the dynamics between them had changed now that she was reduced to being Owen’s housekeeper. Still, she appreciated him stopping. “How’s Ally?”

His eyebrows went up in surprise. “She’s fine. As a matter of fact, I’m just about to hit her store for a coffee. Want to join us?”

“Sure,” she said after only a small hesitation. She needed a coffee, and she quite liked Ally, so why not?

They walked into Ally’s store, where Ally beamed a welcome at her husband and he reciprocated with a lingering kiss. The sight of the two lovebirds made Paige’s stomach squirm. It reminded her of what she’d never had with Seth. More disturbing, it reminded her of being up against a wall with Owen’s body plastered all over hers.

Ally made coffee, and they all sat at a table by the window.

“So Owen told me about Gordon Asquith,” Nate said, stirring his coffee. “If he can pull it off, Bandicoot Creek will be a sure thing. Nobody will want to go against the big man.”

Because he was a nasty bully, Paige thought. “Owen’s not that desperate. He can get his project through on his own.”

“Maybe. Eventually. But not without a long, drawn-out battle, which he wants to avoid as much as possible.”

“Why? Owen isn’t afraid of confrontation.” God, didn’t she know that from personal experience?

Nate tapped his spoon against his saucer. “Owen is as tenacious as a bulldog, I’ll grant you that, but I get the feeling this project means something else to him.”

“What?”

“I think he’s pushing it for Jim, for everything he’s done for Owen.”

Beside him, Ally nodded. “Yeah, Jim’s been like a second father to him, the way he looked out for Owen when he moved to Sydney.”

A pause developed as Nate looked pointedly at Paige. She could guess what was going through his mind. Owen had left Burronga because of her. Had Owen confided all the details of their crazy two-week fling to Nate? The idea made her hot with guilt, but surely Owen would have kept that secret. He was a proud, private man. He wasn’t the type to bare his soul. But then she remembered all the people at the school dance who’d witnessed Owen’s ejection. Even if Nate and Ally didn’t know what had gone on between Owen and her, they were bound to know about his public humiliation. It had happened years ago, but Burronga was a small town with a long memory.

“I’m sure Owen will manage to reel in Gordon Asquith,” she said smoothly, breaking the awkward silence.

“I hope so,” Nate muttered into his coffee.

After Nate had left, Ally said to Paige, “You mustn’t mind Nate. He’s just protective about his friends, and he likes Owen a lot.”

It was difficult holding out against Ally’s friendliness. “I don’t mind, really,” Paige said. “Nate and I have never been simpatico, and that won’t change in a hurry.”

Ally chuckled. “Nate and I used to loathe one another, and look how we ended up! Take it from me, enemies can turn into lovers. It just needs a certain situation to change everything upside down.” She paused, her smile fading. “Not that I’m suggesting you can change Nate. He’s mine, and don’t you forget it.”

Paige laughed at Ally’s fierce expression. “Don’t worry. Nate doesn’t have eyes for anyone but you.”

When Ally rose to serve a customer, her words lingered in Paige’s head.
Enemies can turn into lovers
. Was that true? She and Owen could certainly have ended up in bed, but could they ever be true lovers? It seemed like too much bitter water had passed under the bridge. Besides, why was she even contemplating their being lovers? Their paths had crossed again—briefly—but soon they would veer off in opposite directions.

When she finished her coffee and walked to the counter to pay her bill, she saw red-haired Tyler at the register and remembered she was Ally’s business partner. Quirky crystal earrings dangled from Tyler’s ears, and silver bracelets clinked on her wrist as she worked the register. Tyler was in a friendly mood, and they exchanged a few pleasantries while Paige paid for her coffee.

As Paige pocketed her change, Tyler said, “Hey, too bad about your mum, huh?”

Paige blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I know Crystal and I have had our run-ins, but it was shabby how the network treated her. After so many years, she was an icon of theirs.”

A chill slid down Paige’s spine. “You’ll have to be more explicit.”

This time, Tyler blinked. “Oh, I’m sorry. You don’t know…”

Paige’s heart began to race as she rested her handbag on the counter. “Tell me,” she said tautly. “Tell me about my mother.”

Tyler leaned forward. “Okay, it’s like this. Channel Four dropped your mother without warning. They aren’t renewing her contract. I heard it from my aunt Daphne when your mother, uh, fired her.”

Daphne had been her mother’s housekeeper. Paige stood there, stunned as the information sank in. She could hardly believe it. Crystal Kerrigan was the face of Channel Four. She’d been with them for decades, starred in so many ads, won so many Logie Awards for them. Was this why Crystal hadn’t returned her phone calls? A hurt straight from childhood closed like a fist around her heart. Her mother had shut her out. Why else had she failed to share her awful news or even contact her?

“I’m sorry,” Tyler said, appearing uncomfortable. “I shouldn’t have blabbed. I just assumed you were one of the few people who knew, but I see this is a complete shock to you.”

Paige bit her lip as she struggled for composure. “Thanks for telling me,” she responded dully, hitching her handbag over her shoulder.

“Hey, why don’t you stay awhile? Have another coffee on the house?”

Tyler was just being nice, but Paige had to get away. “I—I’d love to, but I have to shop for groceries.” She fled out of the store.

…

The following day, Paige was changing a lightbulb in the vestibule of the main house when the doorbell rang. She opened the door, expecting a deliveryman, but instead found an unwelcome sight.

“Aunt Lucinda!” she stuttered. “What a surprise.”

Sixty, rich, and reed-thin, Lucinda Kerrigan eyed her dourly. “Not a welcome one, I suppose.” She swept into the house like a snowstorm, her polished shoes clicking on the parquet flooring. “I heard the most appalling gossip at the club today and came over to get to the bottom of this nonsense.”

Paige inhaled. “What nonsense?” she asked, knowing full well what was about to descend on her.

“This nonsense about your parents renting out the house. Surely that can’t be true!”

“Well…it must be, because I can’t get hold of them and Owen—Mr. Bellamy has a valid lease.”

Aunt Lucinda’s rigid stance grew even stiffer. “Mr. Bellamy indeed! I hear he used to be the caretaker here.”

“That was his father.”

“Just as bad. The point is, he’s not a fit and proper person to occupy this house. This property has been in the Kerrigan family for generations. We can’t let any upstart move in and start acting lord of the manor. I’m disappointed in you, Paige. You should have come to me as soon as it happened so I could put a stop to it.”

Paige blew out a sigh of exasperation. “It has nothing to do with either of us. For whatever reason, Mum and Dad decided to rent out this place, and there’s nothing anyone can do.” She was still hurt by her parents’ silence, but she wouldn’t tell Aunt Lucinda about her mother’s losing her TV contract. Her great-aunt had never warmed to Crystal or her television career, believing she was too lowbrow for the Kerrigan family.

“Hmpf,” Aunt Lucinda huffed. Shrewd eyes pinned Paige. “And what are you doing here if the house has been rented out?”

Paige folded her hands together, knowing the truth would have to come out. “I work here,” she said simply. “I’m Mr. Bellamy’s housekeeper.”

Her great-aunt’s face became pinched. “So the rumors
are
true? I didn’t want to believe that Astrid girl. I told her it was impossible that you’d stoop to keeping house for your former caretaker, but you’re telling me it’s true?”

Her great-aunt’s outrage would have been comical if it hadn’t grated on Paige’s nerves so severely.

“I needed a job and a place to stay for a few weeks.”

“Again, you should have called me. I would have put you up! Instead, you’ve debased yourself and made our family the laughingstock of every gossip in town. How can you work for trash like him?”

As Paige stared openmouthed at her great-aunt, a shadow appeared at the front door, which was still ajar.

“Am I interrupting anything?” Owen walked in, the stoniness of his jaw indicating he’d overheard their conversation.

Aunt Lucinda eyed him coldly. “You must be the Bellamy boy.”

“And you are?”

“Lucinda Kerrigan. I hope you’re taking good care of my brother’s house.” Her tone was unashamedly skeptical. “There’ll be hell to pay if you damage anything.”

A white ring formed around Owen’s mouth, but before he could reply, a sudden commotion sounded as two teenage girls appeared behind him. Natasha and Gretel, Paige saw, her heart sinking. Gretel glanced curiously at the adults.

Owen turned to them. “You two go up to Natasha’s room right away,” he ordered.

Natasha made for the staircase, but Gretel dawdled behind. “Oh, but I want a chocolate milkshake.” She pouted at him. “Can’t your housekeeper make us milkshakes and bring them up to us?”

A vein throbbed in Owen’s temple. “Upstairs. Now,” he barked. Sniffing, Gretel obeyed. When the girls had disappeared, he turned his attention back to Aunt Lucinda.

“My aunt was just leaving,” Paige preempted him, trying to diffuse the ugly situation.

“Good.” He gestured at the open door.

Aunt Lucinda glared at him. “I won’t be satisfied until I get to the bottom of this.”

“When you do, you’ll find a watertight lease.”

“I don’t know why you want to live here.” She cast a disparaging glance over him. “One look at your shoes tells me you don’t belong here.” And with that she left.

Alone with Owen, Paige froze at his thunderous expression.

“How could you let that witch into my house and allow her to insult me at will?”

“I didn’t let her do anything. Aunt Lucinda rides roughshod over everyone.”

“I didn’t hear you telling her off.”

Her temper suddenly rose. How unfair of him to blame her when she’d endured her great-aunt’s barbs, too. “What did you expect me to do? Tell her to shut up and get the hell out of here?”

“Yes.” A vein in his forehead pulsed. “But I guess that’s asking too much. She’s a Kerrigan, and your type stick together, don’t you?”

She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. How could he get upset over one silly, overbearing, self-important woman? But then it struck her why he was being so unreasonable. If he’d been by himself, Aunt Lucinda’s insults would have flowed off him like water off a duck’s back. But Natasha and Gretel had been present. The two girls must have heard Aunt Lucinda’s disparaging remarks about Owen, and that was the reason for his foul anger.

“Natasha’s too young to remember your early days here,” Paige said in a much softer tone. “She’s sixteen. At that age she’s just living in the moment. She doesn’t care what happened in the past.”

“You think so?” Doubt lurked in his darkened eyes. “I don’t want her to be embarrassed by me. Especially in front of her friends.”

She shrugged. “You’re practically her parent. At this age, she’s bound to be embarrassed by you no matter what.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He rubbed the back of his neck pensively. “It’s been so long since I was a teenager I’ve forgotten what it was like.”

But Owen had never been a typical teenager because of what had happened to his parents. Owen had had to grow up fast; he hadn’t had the luxury of being embarrassed by his parents.

Exhaling a breath, he gave her a rueful nod. “Sorry I lost my temper with you. You didn’t deserve it.”

The surprise of his apology stole all the air from her lungs. Confused, she attempted to hide it by quipping, “Goodness, an apology from you. I should get my phone out and record this event.”

He laughed, shook his head. “Too late. The moment’s passed.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get another opportunity.”

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll get an apology out of you one of these days.”

That was too close to the mark. She twisted her fingers, uncomfortably aware she did owe him an apology, but it wasn’t a case of simply saying she was sorry. What she owed him was far more complex than that.

Owen cleared his throat, breaking the awkward little silence.

“So,” he said, “what the hell
is
wrong with my shoes?”

…

Later that afternoon, Paige was busy rearranging crockery in the butler’s pantry when she heard voices in the adjoining kitchen. Natasha and Gretel, probably in search of something to eat. She was about to join them and offer them some snacks when the mention of her name made her halt.

“…Paige’d look a lot better if she wore more eyeliner,” Gretel drawled.

“I think she’s quite pretty,” Natasha said.

“Do you think she and your brother are, you know, doing it?”

“What?” Natasha squeaked. “Course not!”

“Oh come on, Tash. They’re in this house all by themselves. I’m pretty sure he’s screwing her.”

Indignation heated Paige’s cheeks. Natasha made some gasping noises. “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.”

“You’re such a baby. No wonder the boys call you frigid.”

Silence, then Natasha said in a small voice, “Which boys?”

“Some of them.”

Natasha’s voice grew even smaller. “Some? Like…Kane?”

“Kane? That cheapskate loser who goes to public school? Didn’t even realize you knew him.”

“I—I talk to him now and again.”