‘Which is why you’re terrified of going near that wine fridge?’
‘Drinking isn’t appropriate when you’re looking after children.’
‘And, as you’ve said, you’re on call twenty-four hours a day, every day of the week...’ He strolled towards the huge double-fronted steel grey fridge and stared at drawings that had been attached by magnets to the front, oddly out of place in the vast, modern, clinically pristine surroundings. He un-tacked a photo and peered at it, then he looked at her.
‘This the family?’ He tilted his head to one side and Sofia knew that she was reddening. Her skin felt hot and prickly and there was a throbbing in her temples. Those dark, dark eyes of his were so intense, so penetrating.
‘Yes,’ she replied shortly.
‘Attractive couple. Attractive kids.’
‘Yes. They are.’
‘Younger than I’d imagined, if I’m honest.’
‘Why would you have imagined anything about them?’
‘Unlike you, I don’t pretend to be incurious. It’s natural to wonder about the sort of people you might be stuck with for a couple of weeks.’
‘You act as though you’re doing them a favour!’
‘The man...is very good-looking, wouldn’t you agree?’ Rafael murmured, glancing towards her, keeping his keen gaze pinned to her face.
Sofia tensed, her face tight, and just like that he replaced the photo from where it had been taken, seemingly losing all interest in the conversation.
In her.
Disappointment warred with relief. She looked at the glass of wine in her hand and wondered how she’d ended up straying from the straight and narrow.
‘So what’s keeping you here?’ he asked. ‘Aside from two kids and a pay packet at the end of the month.’
The question temporarily threw her and she looked at him with sudden bewilderment.
‘Isn’t that enough? We all have to earn a living. You’re here, earning a living.’ She cleared her throat, finished her wine and stood up, hot, bothered and so, so conscious of his eyes trained on her face. ‘Anyway, you should...be thinking about heading back to your lodge. You’ll be busy tomorrow.’ She stood up while he remained sitting where he was, long legs stretched out in front of him, lightly holding his glass of wine and idly twirling it before taking a sip.
‘Sit, why don’t you?’ He motioned to the chair and drawled with a ghost of a wry smile, ‘I promise that I’ll leave you in peace when this glass of wine is finished.’
Sofia thought of the empty evening stretching ahead of her and was ashamed to find herself wanting him to hang around. She’d always enjoyed her own company, especially since she’d been working here, because her time was so seldom her own. However, he’d sparked a curious restlessness inside her and the prospect of studying, which had been top of the agenda, seemed dull and boring.
Disobedient eyes slid across to him, to the lazy, ‘Lord of the Manor’ way he sat there, sprawled in the kitchen chair, dominating the space around him.
Fearless. What sort of gardener was he anyway?
She tried to picture him weeding, scrutinising bottles of fertiliser, mowing the lawn and talking to the plants but she couldn’t.
‘Is there someone significant lurking in the background, making all this drudgery worthwhile? He must be very understanding to put up with you being on call twenty-four-seven.’
‘Drudgery? Drudgery? Who do you think you are?’
‘Figure of speech,’ Rafael said unapologetically.
‘I resent that figure of speech!’
‘You’re very attractive but I don’t suppose I’m telling you anything you don’t already know.’
‘That doesn’t mean...it doesn’t mean...’ She was breathless and had to breathe in deeply to stop herself from shaking. ‘That there’s a significant anyone lurking in the background, and even if there was I fail to see what business it might be of yours!’
Rafael didn’t say anything for a few seconds and she found the silence oppressive, like a dense weight pushing down on her, making her want to justify herself.
She thought of her experiences with the opposite sex, the hungry eyes and groping hands that she had always had to bat away. She thought of being the object of a bet, mortified and humiliated at a time when she had been so open to handing over her heart to someone.
Was it any wonder that she felt safest when she was buried behind books, studying and dreaming about an uncomplicated future?
Other girls her age dreamt of guys, dating, engagements and getting married.
She dreamt of being able to take care of herself. When she thought about men, she vaguely had in her head someone unthreatening—dull, even. Someone who would be able to see past the sexy image that was so unlike the girl she was inside and appreciate her for the qualities that weren’t on show.
‘So no boyfriend?’
‘No,’ she said sharply. ‘Not that it’s any of your business.’ She abruptly got to her feet and made a beeline for the folder she had been given with all the detailed instructions for the gardener whom had been foisted upon the Walters.
‘And what about the master of the house?’ Rafael quizzed softly, feeling her out.
Sofia stiffened. It was barely noticeable but he noticed it.
‘What,’ Sofia asked coldly, ‘are you implying?’
‘Sometimes masters of the house can have expectations beyond the call of duty. Sometimes those expectations are met...’
Sofia clenched her fists and took a deep, steadying breath, which didn’t do the trick. He was being provocative. She had no idea why but it wasn’t going to get her anywhere if she allowed her temper to get the better of her. Letting your emotions get the better of you never paid off. Her mother had let her emotions get the better of her. First when she had fallen for a guy who had dumped her, and afterwards when she had let her heart rule her head, always looking for salvation in someone else, always thinking that she could escape disappointment by throwing herself headlong into relationships that had never gone anywhere.
Sofia had adored her fallible mother but had seen the failings and had determined never to be afflicted in the same way.
Letting this complete stranger get to her wasn’t going to work.
‘Not in this case,’ she said through gritted teeth.
‘I didn’t think so,’ Rafael murmured honestly. ‘But there’s something there, isn’t there? What?’
‘Let’s get something straight.’ Sofia was holding on to her temper with difficulty and he wasn’t making it any easier by that all-knowing look on his face, a look which implied that he could read her mind, which of course he couldn’t.
‘What’s that?’
‘You’re here to do a job. I have stuff to do and I won’t be fraternising with you.’
‘Because I ask too many questions?’
‘My personal life is none of your business. Now, I’ll show you to the door. Take the instructions. You might want to read them over before you go to bed. There will be a lot to busy yourself with until James and Elizabeth get back. They’ll expect you to have done everything laid out, right down to pulling up the very last weed in the flower beds.’ She thrust the