“Thank you. That’s a great help.” Miss Rosetti then turned to the distraught pregnant girl. “Margaret, go and get some dry clothes on. Mr. Reed and I will handle the situation.”
“I’m so sorry.” Margaret looked close to tears.
Miss Rosetti put her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault,” she said in a soothing voice. “Maybe the plumber didn’t tighten the joint properly when he installed the sink. Or maybe a crack developed. I’m sure he’ll fix the problem in no time.” She smiled at her. “After you change, would you mind putting the kettle on for tea? I think we’ll need a cup once we finish here.”
Margaret nodded, looking decidedly relieved. “Right away.”
Once the girl had left, Darius gave Miss Rosetti an admiring glance. “You handled that very adeptly.”
One side of her lips tipped upward. “I learned that trick in my parents’ store. If a customer complained about the peaches not being ripe enough, I moved them on to the plums.” She wiped her hands on the waist of her skirt, then pushed a long strand of hair off her forehead. “I’ll get a bucket, and I’d better call the plumber before Ruth gets back and sees this disaster.” She hesitated, a hand on the doorframe. “You don’t have to stay, Mr. Reed. You’ve done more than enough already.”
He looked down at his sodden pants and shoes and shrugged. “A little more water won’t matter at this point. I’ll start drying up in here while we wait for the repairman.”
“That’s very kind of you.” She gave him a smile that held so much gratitude he felt his chest expand.
“There are more towels in the bathroom down the hall if you need them,” she said. “I’ll bring a mop with the bucket when I return.”
A second later, she was gone.
Darius stared at the door long after her footsteps had faded down the hall. Then he turned his attention to the soggy pile of towels on the floor and the makeshift tourniquet he’d rigged around the pipe.
If he hadn’t intervened, a great deal more damage would have occurred. The water might have soaked through to the ceiling of the room below them. That type of damage could risk them failing an inspection, perhaps even forcing the home to close down. If he just loosened that towel, no one would be the wiser. . . .
He clenched his molars together. Though Mr. Walcott would have no qualms doing just that, Darius was not that kind of man. He would never purposely cause harm to someone or their property.
Grabbing a stack of fresh towels, he began to soak up the water from the floor, the vision of Miss Rosetti’s warm regard spurring him on to finish the task.
For another one of those smiles, he would do just about anything.
12
Ten minutes later, Olivia climbed the stairs to the second floor, the string mop clutched under her arm. Mr. Reed had certainly surprised her with the way he’d jumped in and stopped the flood before irreparable damage had been done.
Very gallant. And very unexpected.
Perhaps she’d misjudged the man, thinking he’d had an ulterior motive in coming to see the home. If he wanted their venture to fail, he certainly wouldn’t have rushed to their rescue like that.
She paused to collect her emotions before entering the bathroom, determined to give the man the benefit of the doubt.
Mr. Reed stood over the claw-foot tub, wringing out a dripping towel, his shirtsleeves rolled up past the elbow. He turned as she came into the room. “I tied another towel around the pipe for good measure. Once you run the mop over the floor, it should be good as new.”
“Thank you.” She peered under the sink, relieved to see no more water for the moment. “The plumber should be here in about twenty minutes. He sounded quite upset that this had happened.”
“As well he should.” Mr. Reed draped the towel over the side of the tub. “Do you have a clothesline out back where I can hang these to dry?”
“I’ll do that, Mr. Reed. You needn’t bother.”
“It’s no bother. And won’t you please call me Darius? Mr. Reed sounds far too formal.”
She swallowed. Formal might be a much safer idea. But she didn’t wish to be rude. “Very well. And you may call me Olivia.”
“Olivia.” The word sounded almost lyrical on his lips. “Such a beautiful name.”
She bent over the mop to hide her blush and avoid getting lost in the power of his gaze. Concentrating on her task, she pushed the strings into the tight corners, making sure to soak up every last bit of moisture.
When she spun around to place the wet mop in the tub, her foot slipped on the damp floor. She gave a cry, her heart pounding as her arms flailed.
A warm hand grabbed her around the waist and yanked her upright.
She gasped and gripped Darius’s shirtfront. Without her meaning to, her eyes fixated on his chest where a dark sprig of hair was visible above the opened top button of his shirt. She swallowed hard and attempted to move out of his arms, only to find her footing still precarious.
“Careful. Those tiles can be slippery.” His breath stirred the wispy hair at her ear.
Before she could react, he lifted her into his arms and carried her out to the hallway, where he set her feet carefully on the carpeted floor. Even then, he didn’t release her right away, smiling down into her eyes.
Her face felt overwarm, and a hum of electricity raced through her body. She blinked and took a step away. “Th-thank you,” she managed, all too aware of his arm still firmly around her. “I’m all right now.”
He watched her with such intensity that heat flooded her system. For her own good, she needed to put some space between her and this unsettling man.
