it with you at all times. And that’s an order.”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes narrowed. “Oh, and I also listed a few of my favorite meals … as you asked,” he added in a dry-as-dust tone.
“Thank you.” Jen pushed back her chair and stood. “If you’ll excuse me now, I’m going up to clean the apartment … unless you have other instructions for me?” She raised her brows.
He nodded his head, also standing. “There is one more thing.” He sent a slow glance around the room. “You did a good job on the kitchen. It’s spotless.”
A tiny smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Not quite,” she said. “The curtains need laundering.”
For a moment Marsh simply stared at her, then, with a shake of his head, he started for the hallway. “I’ll see you sometime Monday.” With that he strode from the room.
Jen watched him go, wondering just what kind of power struggle she had gotten herself into with Marsh Grainger.
She spent the rest of the day giving the apartment a thorough cleaning. By the time she looked up, it was time for supper. Yet as busy as she was, there were moments—too many, to Jen’s way of thinking—when thoughts of Marsh pushed past her guard to tease her imagination.
Jen didn’t appreciate his intrusion. He was her employer. Period. Nothing more. Who was he, really, other than a tough and bitter man? In all truth, he had a right to his bitterness, but it was none of her concern.
Still, the thoughts persisted. Why? In a word, Marshall Grainger was all male. A ruggedly handsome, sexy-as-hell male at that.
Startled by her last thought, Jen gave herself a mental shake. Get it together, woman, she told herself. Marsh may be all those things, but he uses women, and you don’t want any part of that.
Forget him and get back to work.
When she had finished cleaning, Jen took a long, soothing shower, slipped into a nightshirt, then sat down with her laptop to contact her friends. Naturally there were emails from every one of them, demanding more information. She sent them a group email back, saying she had gotten a new job and would get back to them later, after she had settled into the position and had more complete information to offer.
The fact of the matter was, Jen was not quite ready to tell her friends what had happened to send her running from her home. Nor was she ready to tell them that she was living under Marsh Grainger’s roof. Tired, muscles aching from the unusual flurry of physical activity, Jen was then content to drop into bed early. With any luck, she’d fall asleep quickly before she had time for more thoughts of Marshall Grainger.
Saturday morning Jen woke refreshed if still a bit achy, proof of the fact that she had been idle too long. She had stayed in shape playing tennis and horseback riding whenever she could, but while musing on her future options during the past several weeks she had barely left her apartment. The cleaning exercise had done her good.
She dressed in designer jeans, a pin-tucked white shirt and flat-heeled boots. Deciding to grab breakfast in town, she left the house for her shopping spree.
She looked inside the envelope Marsh had given her. Along with the short list of his favorite meals and directions to the nearest mall, Marsh had left her a ridiculous amount of money. Jen rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face.
Either Marsh Grainger had no idea what things actually cost, or he was an extremely generous man underneath that gruff exterior.
It was a lovely, warm autumn day, perfect for shopping. As she headed down the driveway, Jen kept an eye out for signs of the security he had told her about. She didn’t see hide nor hair until she neared the stone pillars flanking the entranceway. A short distance off the road, barely visible, an all-terrain vehicle was parked next to a low hanging tree. As she drove through the entranceway, she thrust her arm out the window and waved as she hit the horn. She laughed as she received a wave and toot in return.
Well, at least the security is friendly, Jen thought, applying a little pressure to the gas pedal. She drove first to the mall Marsh had mentioned, and went into the first shop she came to displaying home decorations.
Not into knick-knacks, Jen chose three pictures in three different sizes. The smaller pictures she chose were pastoral scenes, one of a field covered with Texas bluebonnets, the other of a basket of wildflowers set on one end of a long library table. But the largest one, for the living room, was a rendering in black-and-white of a ship, alone on a wide sea. For some reason, it reminded her of Marsh, alone in that big, remote house.
The thought sent a little shiver through her. Now, that’s simply ridiculous, she chided herself, trying and failing to ignore the feeling. There’s no reason to be thinking of Marsh as a lonely man—in fact, that’s just plain dangerous. Pushing away her thoughts, Jen left the mall and headed for the supermarket.
The sun was beginning to set as Jen drove back onto the property. Her glance automatically shifted to the tree. There was a vehicle there, but a different one. Again she hit the horn and waved, and again she was greeted in kind.
In high spirits, satisfied with her selection of decorations for the apartment, Jen unloaded the car and set to work stashing the food in cabinets, fridge and freezer. As she worked, a curiosity set in about the rest of the house—and, if she was honest with herself, Marsh. It wouldn’t exactly be snooping, she decided. Just … investigating. After all, she’d be working here—she might as well familiarize herself with the place. She quietly slipped into the main part of the house and found herself peeking into six bedrooms and five bathrooms, all of which were long past due for a good dusting and vacuuming. Stepping into the last room at the end of the hallway, Jen felt her breath catch when she opened the door to the huge room that obviously belonged to Marsh.
The room was the complete opposite of opulent—it was Spartan, and it was spotless, not a speck of dust anywhere. A tiny smile feathered her lips. It seemed Mr. Marshall Grainger liked a clean room just as much as she did.
The furniture was plain, straight lines, solid oak. The bed—his bed—was enormous. His color scheme consisted primarily of black, white and red, stark but effective, somehow perfect for him.
Feeling more like a snoop by the minute but unable to resist, Jen moved into the room, going to the row of sliding mirrored closet doors along one wall. One entire section was full of tailored suits, one of them a tuxedo. Another section held nothing but dress shirts in every color imaginable, including white with black stripes. She liked that one, imagining how sexy he’d look in it.
Sexy? she thought. What am I doing in here?
But Jen kept going—she couldn’t seem to make herself stop. There was something too enticing about being this close to Marsh. The next section held jeans, some faded, some brand-new. They were the longest jeans she’d ever seen in her life, perfect for a tall drink of water like Marsh. The last section held casual shirts of every style and hue. On the floor beneath each area were shoes—dress shoes, work boots, riding boots, running shoes. Jen laughed. And she thought she was a shoe maniac!
Closing the sliding doors, she opened another door in the bedroom to find a good-size dressing room and a spacious bathroom. The bathtub was huge, with water jets set into the sides. A compact shower stall sat next to the tub. The black-and-white marble vanity top looked much like the surface of his dresser—sparse and neat. A toothbrush
