‘From Harry Gilchrist,’ she said, and Matt quirked an eyebrow.
‘You know him?’
‘He lives in the village,’ she said regretfully. ‘I suppose he recognised you.’
Matt finished his tea and set his empty mug down on the counter. ‘Did he ever,’ he said, pulling a wry face. ‘Oh, well, I guess a week is better than nothing.’
‘You might be surprised.’ Fliss finished her own tea and, to his surprise, moved to the sink to wash up the cups. ‘Most of the villagers tend to mind their own business.’
‘Do they?’
Matt spoke almost absently, his eyes unwillingly drawn to the vulnerable curve of her nape. She’d tugged her hair to one side and secured it with a tortoiseshell clip, and the slender start of her spine was exposed.
He wasn’t thinking, or he would have looked away, but instead his eyes moved down over the crossed braces of her dungarees. A narrow waist dipped in above the provocative swell of her bottom, the loose trousers only hinting at the lushness of her hips and thighs. Her legs were longer then he’d imagined, her ankles trim below the cuffs of her trousers.
‘What do you mean?’
Her words arrested whatever insane visions he had been having, and he shook his head as if that would clear his brain. For God’s sake, what was he doing? And what was she talking about? He was damned if he could remember.
‘I beg your pardon?’
His apology was automatic, but her expression as she turned towards him fairly simmered with resentment. ‘You said, Do they?’ she reminded him tightly. ‘What did you mean?’
Matt didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. For a moment there, he’d been entertaining himself with the thought that he was just the same as any other man. Of course, he wasn’t, but she didn’t know that. And she probably thought he was leering at her like any other member of his sex.
‘You know,’ she said flatly, as he struggled to answer her, ‘when you said Diane hadn’t told you a lot about me, you were lying, weren’t you? Have the decency to admit it.’
‘You’re wrong.’ Matt blew out a breath. ‘Whatever I said, it had nothing to do with anything Diane had said about you. But, OK, she didn’t tell me that you were still at school when you got pregnant. However, that has nothing to do with me.’
‘Damn right.’
There was a catch in her voice now, and Matt silently cursed Diane for getting him into this. ‘Right,’ he said, folding his arms across his chest. ‘So, shall we put that behind us and start again?’
‘Whatever.’ She finished drying the cups and moved towards the door. ‘I’d better be going. Amy will be home from school now and she’s quite a handful for my father.’
‘I’ll bet.’ He kept his mind firmly on what she was saying and not on the curling strands of red-gold hair that had escaped the clip and were bobbing beside her cheek. He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment, relishing the pain as a distraction. ‘You—er—you wouldn’t still consider working for me, I suppose?’
She halted, but she kept her back to him as she spoke. ‘Doing what, exactly?’
Matt knew an almost overwhelming urge to touch her then. She suddenly seemed so vulnerable, so alone. Which was ridiculous really, considering she had a father and a daughter who probably thought the world of her. Yet he sensed that he’d hurt her and he didn’t know how to repair the damage.
He thought about asking what she used to do for Colonel Phillips, but that would sound as if he was being flippant and he couldn’t have that. Instead, he prevaricated. ‘Whatever needs doing,’ he said. ‘I won’t expect you to do anything I wouldn’t do myself.’ He paused. ‘I guess what I need is help, that’s all. Just a few days a week if that suits you.’
Fliss shrugged. ‘I can do that,’ she said. Then she half turned, looking at him over one creamy shoulder. ‘With one proviso.’
‘Which is?’
‘I won’t work for you when Diane comes to live here,’ she said. ‘This is only a temporary arrangement—’
‘Diane won’t be coming to live here,’ he broke in impulsively, and he saw the look of disbelief that crossed her face.
‘But she’s your fiancée!’
‘She’s my—what?’ Matt stared at her. ‘She told you that?’
‘Yes.’ She looked uncertain. ‘She is, isn’t she?’
Matt allowed a sound of frustration to escape him, realising he couldn’t deny they had had a relationship. ‘We—she and I—we have been involved, yeah,’ he admitted unwillingly.
A faint smile touched her lips. ‘I thought so,’ she said, and he had to stifle the urge to explain that the situation—his situation—had changed.
‘That still doesn’t alter the fact that she’s not going to be living here,’ he said instead, more forcefully than was necessary. ‘Diane’s a city person. She works in London. It wouldn’t be feasible for her to move down here.’
Fliss held up her hand as if to stop him. ‘Not immediately, I understand that—’
‘Not at all,’ he said flatly, and knew he was being far too obdurate. He took a deep breath. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think that’s your business—’
‘I mean, about the job,’ he said grimly, not altogether sure she wasn’t mocking him, and she shrugged.
‘When would you want me to start?’
Matt’s initial reaction was to say, How does tomorrow suit you? But tomorrow was Saturday and he doubted she’d want to start then.
‘Would Monday be OK?’ he asked. ‘Your friend, Gilchrist, is delivering the furniture I ordered on Monday morning. I’d be glad of your help.’
‘All right.’ She pushed her hands into the pockets of her dungarees. ‘I’ll come over about nine, does that suit you?’
‘That’s great,’ he said, and as she moved out into the hall he followed her. ‘See you Monday, then.’
‘Monday,’ she agreed, opening the door before he could get past her and do it for her. ‘G’bye.’
Matt waited until she’d turned her car and driven away before he closed the door and sagged back against it. He felt exhausted and he didn’t honestly know why. It wasn’t as if she’d said or done anything to deplete his energies and yet he felt drained. And strangely let down, which was something new for him.
Straightening, he made his way back to the kitchen and surveyed the room with frustrated eyes. What was wrong with him now, for God’s sake? He’d just completed a satisfactory shopping trip and found himself a part-time housekeeper into the bargain. What more did he want?
A hell of a lot more, he conceded grimly, but it wasn’t going to happen. Nevertheless, for a short time there he’d found himself having thoughts he hadn’t had since he’d got back from North Africa. He didn’t kid himself it meant anything. Despite what his doctors had said, he knew he was never going to be the man he was. But Fliss Taylor was different. She intrigued him. And, like anyone else, he responded to that.
He knew he’d never met a female who was as unaware of herself as she was. There was no artifice about her, no desire to draw attention to herself, no overt sexuality. Yet she was all woman, with a soft innocence that any man would have found