pines and stately cedars. Then she came upon a wide firebreak clearing and an amazing house, all glass and logs and rocks, reaching toward the sky, the stark edges softened by clouds, the windows reflecting treetops.
“Awesome,” Hannah said reverently. “We’re gonna live here?”
Valerie was no less awed. She’d expected a nice house, but not one that should be profiled in Architectural Digest. “Remember we won’t be living in the house but in a cottage on the property.”
No one came out of the house to greet or question them, so Valerie continued on, following a gently curving path around the house, discovering several buildings—a four-car garage, what looked to be a stable and the building referred to as the cottage.
The word cottage had conjured up visions in Valerie’s mind of rosebushes and wood shingles. Instead the structure was a smaller version of the main house, except with cedar-plank siding instead of logs, but with the same large windows, and more space than she and Hannah had ever lived in.
“There’s the pool!” Hannah exclaimed, scrambling to unbuckle her seat belt and flinging the car door open. “And a hot tub. Mom, it’s got a hot tub. We get to use it, too, right?”
She was out of the car and running toward a free-form pool that seemed carved out of the landscape, with a small, rock waterfall at one end that spilled into both the pool and hot tub.
Gravel crunched under Valerie’s feet as she followed Hannah, reaching a flagstone path that branched into others heading toward the cottage, the main house, and through a wild, obviously untended garden to the pool. Lack of interest in gardening, she wondered, or his intent? He must be able to afford a gardener.
Valerie reached her daughter, who’d crouched beside the pool, dipped her hand into it then flicked a few refreshing drops at Valerie. “Can we go swimming, Mom? I’m sooo hot.”
They’d spent the afternoon packing their belongings and cleaning their apartment in the 101-degree Sacramento weather, squeezing everything into their small car. They both needed a cool swim before unpacking and settling in. And the man of the house didn’t appear to be home.
“Pleeease,” Hannah begged, tugging on Valerie’s hand.
“How fast can you find your bathing suit?”
“I put it in the last grocery bag we loaded.” She grinned, obviously pleased at her planning ahead. “Yours, too. I swiped it from your suitcase as soon as you said there was a pool.”
“Have I told you lately how smart you are?” Valerie hooked an arm around her daughter as they returned to the car.
“Just every day.”
They grabbed the bag from the car then headed to the cottage to change. A note was taped to the front door: “Welcome. I expect to be home by 7:30. I’ll bring dinner. We’ll meet later to discuss your specific duties. DF”
It was only six o’clock, so they had plenty of time, provided she could drag Hannah out of the pool at some point.
“Way cool!” Hannah declared as they stepped inside the cottage.
Valerie wondered why David called it a cottage when it was really more of a guesthouse. A large great room, dining area and kitchen comprised the visible living space, while in the back were two bedrooms with a shared bath between. The modern furnishings looked brand-new and perfectly suited to the structure, not exactly “cabin” decor but dark greens, reds and browns, with some wrought-iron pieces and trim, and a stone fireplace.
She’d never lived in anything like it.
“Which bedroom do you want?” she asked her daughter, her words trailing off as Hannah raced into one of the rooms and slammed the door shut.
“Hurry, Mom,” she shouted through the wood.
Valerie took a moment to enjoy the bedroom that would now be hers. The pine furnishings included a rustic four-poster, queen-size bed and an armoire that housed a television, drop-leaf desk and six-drawer dresser. The comforter was red-and-green striped. Overall, it was a streamlined, masculine look, but that didn’t really surprise her. David Falcon was all male.
“I’m ready!”
“Almost done,” Valerie called out as she peeled off her sweaty, sticky clothes and tugged on her bathing suit, a black one-piece as old as Hannah. Valerie found a linen closet inside the bathroom and grabbed two pool towels. On her way out she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her suit sagged a little, as much from old elastic as the fact she’d lost weight in the past year, leaving her, according to her mother, skin and bones. She didn’t think she looked that bad, but maybe the new situation—especially the lack of worrying about life in general—would bring back her lost curves, or at least what there’d been of them to begin with.
She would be happy here. She could feel it. She and Hannah would have a place they could call home. They wouldn’t have to triple-lock their door. They could sleep with windows open.
“Mo-om!”
Valerie hurried out of the bathroom, grabbed Hannah’s hand and ran to the pool, jumping straight in. They touched bottom then shoved themselves up through the bubbles, still holding hands, laughing as they broke the surface.
This is what freedom feels like—cool and clean.…
She ignored the hot tears pressing at her eyes. She wouldn’t do anything to mess up this incredible situation, would make sure that Hannah understood what her boundaries were. Valerie would make herself completely indispensable to Mr. David Falcon. He would find no fault with her work or behavior. She would be a consummate professional, do nothing remotely improper.…
For the next half hour she and Hannah played and romped and floated. They turned on the jets in the hot tub and climbed in, just because they could, letting the heat seep into their bodies, then getting out and doing cannonballs into the cooler pool. Valerie planted her hands on the pool edge to push herself out as Hannah grabbed her ankles, trying to tug her back in. They were laughing and taunting each other.
The stretched-out straps of Valerie’s bathing suit slipped a little. She pulled free of her daughter’s grip. Breathless, she shoved herself up and almost out of the pool…and came face-to-face with a huge golden retriever—and her boss standing right behind.
* * *
So. The buttoned-up Valerie Sinclair did have a body—a very nice body—beneath all that fabric, David thought, studiously avoiding watching her directly as she jammed her straps back into place and hurried over to a chair to grab a towel, covering herself, apologizing the whole time.
“Hi, I’m David Falcon,” he said to the worried-looking little girl clinging to the side of the pool.
“I’m Hannah. What’s your dog’s name?”
“This is Belle.” Belle looked up at him at hearing her name, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth in a goofy dog smile. She’d become like a puppy again since he’d loaded her in his car. “She’ll swim with you, if you want.”
“Really?”
“She won’t go in on her own, but if you slap the water and call her
