She didn't want to ask anymore because she didn't want to know what he'd done. She remembered the article that mentioned his time in Special Ops. There were hints about covert assignments. Assassinations. Secret battles.
He was dangerous. She knew that in her head, but she couldn't feel it in her heart. As if she was exempt from the ruthlessness. Was that possible?
'I have a small child,' she said. 'Considering your line of work, I'm assuming you have guns in the house. Will she be safe?'
Instead of answering in words, he rose to his feet. At the far end of the room, he touched a book on a shelf and the entire bookcase swung open. Ashley rose and followed him. He pointed to the large safe built into the wall.
'There's no key or combination lock. It requires a retinal scan. The mechanism has its own power source so it won't be disabled by an electrical blackout. Everything dangerous is kept in there.'
She thought about asking what all might be in inventory, but figured she was better off not knowing.
'Maggie is perfectly safe,' he said. 'I wouldn't let her stay here otherwise.'
Ashley shivered. She wanted reassurance that she would be safe, too.
'I'd like the housekeeper job,' she said, shoving her hands into her jeans pockets and taking a step back. 'Just for a couple months, until I get my feet under me.'
'Fair enough.' He closed the bookcase. 'Are you interested in the accounting work, as well?'
In for a penny, as they say. 'Yes.'
'Good.'
He stared at her. Something flickered against his irises. For a second she would have sworn she saw fire-the kind that burned bright from passion's desire. If he had been any other man, she would have thought he was interested. But not Jeff. Certainly not in her.
Chapter 7
It took Ashley less than forty-eight hours to invade his world. Jeff had always had a biweekly cleaning service that took care of the house and washed his sheets and towels, but now he had a
Ashley took her work seriously. Pieces of furniture that had simply been dusted were now polished. Surfaces gleamed and the scent of lemon filled the air. He found vases of flowers on tables and light filtering in through sparkling windows. His sheets and towels were softer, his cupboards stocked with food and meals had become multi-course and nutritional. When he gave her accounting work, she did it quickly and accurately, returning it to him the following day.
Jeff hadn't realized how careful she'd been to keep to herself while she was simply a guest in his house. Now her presence was everywhere. Her perfume lingered in the hallway. A couple of Maggie's toys found their way to the family room. Schoolbooks stacked up on an end table. It was as if a family lived here.
A family. The concept was unfamiliar. He knew intellectually that there had been a time when he'd belonged to a family. He'd been born to parents who lived in suburbs, just like regular people. Jeff knew he'd been a part of that world once-playing sports in high school, hanging out with his friends. But those memories weren't real to him. It was as if he'd seen a movie about someone's past. A past that happened to be his own. He couldn't relate to those images and he didn't know how to act now that he was no longer alone.
He glanced at his watch. It was late, nearly midnight. Maggie was long asleep, but Ashley was still up, studying in the kitchen. The need to go to her compelled him to rise to his feet, even though he knew he shouldn't bother her. He walked toward the light, knowing he had no right to want to be with her, even when all he expected was simple conversation.
She haunted him. Much like the ghosts of his past, she was a constant presence in his mind. Yet unlike the memories of the dead, she made him feel better for occupying his thoughts. She made him anticipate-something he hadn't done in years. She made him need, which reminded him he was alive. But was that good or bad?
He reached the kitchen and stood in the doorway. The overhead light glinted off her dark hair. She wore jeans and a sweater. Her feet were bare and she'd tucked one up under her on the straight-backed chair.
Several books lay open across the table. She glanced at one, then returned her attention to the accounting paper in front of her.
One curl caressed her cheek. Looking at it made him press his fingers into his palm. He wanted to touch the curl… and the cheek. He wanted to feel the silk of her skin and the warmth of her body. He wanted…
'Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to join me?' She spoke without looking up.
Jeff frowned. He knew he hadn't made any noise. 'How did you know I was here?'
She glanced at him and smiled. 'It's a mom thing. Internal radar. The same mechanism tells me when Maggie is doing something she shouldn't.' She pushed her foot against the chair next to her, moving the seat toward him in invitation. 'I'm due to take a break.' She pointed at the closest open textbook. 'It's cost accounting, so you're doing me a favor by taking me away from it for a while. There are fresh cookies. Want one?'
He followed the direction of her finger and saw a heaping plate of cookies on the counter. 'You're always trying to feed me.'
She smiled. 'That's because you don't eat very much. I'm a compulsive feeder.'
'Another mom thing?'
'Probably. I want to take care of the world.'
He moved toward the table, but didn't take the seat next to her. Instead he settled across from her-as much to see her as to make sure he wasn't close enough to touch. Something about the late hour made him question his ability to do the right thing. The need inside seemed to grow with each tick of the kitchen clock.
'Not all mothers are compelled to take care of everyone,' he said. 'It's about being a giver more than being maternal.'
'Maybe.' She rose to her feet and walked over to the cookie plate. After moving a couple of her books, she set it in the center of the table, then headed to the refrigerator. 'What about your mother? What was she like?'
'A homemaker,' he said as Ashley poured them each a glass of milk. 'She liked to sew and bake. My dad worked for Ford. On the assembly line.'
She put a full glass in front of him and resumed her seat. 'Let me guess. You played football and were something of a flirt.'
'I'll admit to the football.'
Ashley had been kidding when she'd asked the question. She couldn't imagine Jeff as a young man. She'd never seen him out of a suit. Even now, despite the late hour, he wore a white shirt and slacks. He'd discarded his tie and rolled up his sleeves, but he hadn't bothered changing into something more casual. Did the man own jeans?
Not that it mattered. She was glad she had the cookies and milk to give her something other than Jeff to look at and touch. Otherwise she wasn't sure she could control herself around him. She'd never once in her life wanted to be sick, but right now she couldn't help wishing for a bit of the flu bug to return because it seemed to be the only thing that kept her immune to Jeff's masculine charms.
She hated the way she noticed the strength in his hands and wrists and the shivery sensation in her belly as she studied the stubble darkening his jaw. His voice sent ripples of need dancing along her spine and the darkness of the night made her think of bed and tangled sheets. She tried to convince herself it was a lack of male companionship that made her overreact to her new boss, but she was afraid it wasn't that simple. Something chemical happened when she was around the man and she didn't know how to make it stop.
Conversation, she told herself as her breathing increased slightly. Talk about something normal and maybe he won't notice the sexual tension in the air. 'What sent you into the army?' she asked.
'I didn't want to go to college. I liked sports, but I wasn't a big fan of school. I wanted to see the world.'
'Did you?'
He picked up a cookie. 'I saw a lot of places I didn't want to see.'
'Is that where you met your wife?'
He bit into the cookie and chewed. 'No. She and I had dated in high school. We married right before I
