“What can I do for you?” she asked. “Are you lost?”
His chuckle had a harsh quality. “No, I’m not lost,” he said. “At least, not in the way you mean.”
“What do you want then?”
“I want to talk to you.”
Felicity frowned. “Who are you?”
Impatiently, he looked around, and as he did, his profile was outlined against the bright backdrop of the moonlit sky. A sharply cut profile, with a swathe of dark hair falling over his brow, a strong nose, an uncompromising chin.
Fantastic bone structure. The kind that artists would adore. And women, too…
Felicity blinked the thought away.
“I’m going to close the door right now,” she said, “If you don’t tell me who you are and why you’re here.”
He turned and faced her. Just then, the people upstairs put on their bedroom light, and the yellow rays shone down on this stranger, illuminating him.
He was a handsome beast, Felicity thought. Handsome—and hostile. Oh, yes, no doubt about it…hostile.
“I’m Jordan Maxwell.” The words came out as jarringly as a jackhammer on granite. “And what I want to talk to you about is not something I wish to discuss out here.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and lanced her with his glittering gaze. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
He had expected someone who looked older. More solid. More mature.
Not this slip of a thing in an old T-shirt nightie, with her hair in a braid and her eyes filled with apprehension.
When she’d invited him in, it had been with an unsure gesture of her hand. The only words she’d spoken since had been to ask him if he wanted a drink.
He’d have liked a Scotch; she offered tea.
While the kettle was boiling, she’d left the room. When she came back, her face was scrubbed clean and she’d put on a gray cotton shortie robe and a pair of thongs.
So here they were, sitting at her kitchen table, drinking tea that tasted like cranberries.
And still she hadn’t said a word.
She looked down at the table as she sipped her tea, so he had an opportunity to scrutinize her further. She didn’t resemble her brother. She was fair, he’d been dark. She was slim as a reed, he’d been ruggedly built…and had looked mature. But he’d been anything but. He’d been irresponsible and wild and spendthrift. Just like Marla.
They had been a pair.
He felt anger rise inside him as it did so readily these days. But he controlled it.
“I’m here about Mandy.” He shoved aside his half-empty mug. “I want to ask—” He broke off as his glance moved beyond her to another room. A utility room. He could see packing boxes there, all neatly taped up. At the same time, he belatedly realized the kitchen had an echoing feel to it. And the walls were bare, many of the shelves empty.
“Are you moving?” He stared at her.
“Yes. I’m going home.”
“Where’s home?”
“The island.”
It was the last thing he’d expected. Oh, he’d known she might turn down his proposal outright and that even if she’d accepted it, she might haggle about salary, hours, any number of other things. What he hadn’t once anticipated was that she might be leaving the Lower Mainland and going to live on Vancouver Island. “You’ve made your plans?”
“Everything’s settled. I’m going to stay with my mother till I find a place of my own.” She finished her tea, put down her mug. “Now…it’s very late…and you still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
“It doesn’t matter. Not now.” He rose from the table, put his mug on the counter. “I’ll be on my way.”
He was at the door, opening it, before she said, “Wait.”
He turned. She was standing still, her face very pale.
“You owe me an explanation,” she said. “You can’t come here in the middle of the night and not tell me why.”
He shrugged. “You won’t be here, so…what I wanted to ask you…doesn’t matter.”
“It was something about Mandy, wasn’t it? If there’s anything I can help with, please let me know. I realize it must be difficult for you to look after her—she has her own little ways, and if it’ll make it any easier for you, I’d be happy to sit down and go over them with you. For example, her hair gets tangled after it’s washed, and to keep her from fussing when you brush it, you have to…”
Her voice trailed away when she saw him drag a weary hand over his nape.
“What is it?” She took an urgent step toward him. “What’s wrong? You must tell me!”
“Mandy’s miserable. I’ve never seen a kid so unhappy.” Jordan wanted to go down on his knees and plead with her to stay but his pride wouldn’t let him. Instead, he gave another shrug—a deliberately careless shrug. “I just thought—at least, my sister Lacey suggested it, I was dead against the idea—Lacey suggested it might help if I were to offer you your old job back. For Mandy’s sake.”
Her lips parted in a round, soundless. “Oh.”
“But since you’re leaving, I’ll have to find someone else. It’s no big deal.” He turned his back on her and opened the door. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
He went out into the night and as he walked in the moonlight to his car, he felt as if the world and all its worries were pressing down on him from every side.
What the hell was he going to do now! He’d told Ms. Fairfax he’d find someone else.
There was no one else.
He kicked at a stone, and hissed out a word that would have made Lacey’s hair stand on end.
Wrenching open the car door, he was about to throw himself inside, when from behind him he heard someone call, “Mr. Maxwell! Wait!”
And when he turned around, Felicity Fairfax was running breathlessly toward him.
CHAPTER TWO
FELICITY thought her heart was going to burst.
What Jordan had said had stunned her. And then joy had exploded inside her, lending wings to her feet as she raced out of the apartment.
Now, catching up to him, she gasped, “Do you really mean it? You want me to look after Mandy again?”
“I don’t recall using exactly those words…but yes, that’s what I came here to ask.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“I was hoping you could start tomorrow. I’d planned—if you were available—to bring Mandy over here on my way to the office. But since you’re moving out of the area—”
“But I don’t have to move—I don’t want to move! If you could only wait till I find another place, there’s nothing in the world that I’d like more than to look after Mandy again.”
A car stopped, farther along the street. Its headlights illuminated Jordan’s face, and there was no mistaking his expression of relief. Then the vehicle turned into a driveway and once again his face was shadowed.
“I can’t wait,” he said. “I need you to start tomorrow.”
“But I have the movers coming on Tuesday. And I’ll have to find another place to live—”