puzzled. “Sometimes I hear people coming and going in the night. Once I asked Mr. Stone about it, and he just laughed and told me not to worry my pretty head about it.” A hint of color rose in her cheeks. “He teases me sometimes, and Mrs. Borsch gets mad when he pays me any attention. I think he’s a really nice guy, don’t you?”
“He seems pleasant enough,” Ashley conceded, but she wasn’t about to give him a rave review. She had the feeling he was adept at manipulating everyone, including Lily. Having her meals with Kyle Stone could turn out to be a tense affair. She’d have to watch everything she said.
ASHLEY WENT DOWNSTAIRS a few minutes before eight o’clock, following the directions that Lily had given her. “Go down the main hall, past the solarium, and turn right. There’s a small family dining room that overlooks the back garden and stone patio. A lovely spot, it is,” Lily assured. “The large dining room isn’t used unless Mr. Vandenburg is here with guests.”
She had changed her mind several times about what to wear; had been tempted to wear slacks and a summer top, but she didn’t want to embarrass herself if dressing up for dinner was expected. There was no doubt in Ashley’s mind that her sister would delight in wearing some of her nice dresses in the evening, so she’d chosen a bright red sheath with a short, tight skirt and spaghetti straps—the simplest and most colorful of all her sister’s dresses.
Even though dangling earrings were anathema to Ashley, Jill wore jewelry with everything, so she had put on a silver pair that swung easily with the turn of her head. In some ways she felt as if she were dressed for a costume party, but the excitement churning her stomach was not from joy.
Maybe Kyle Stone won’t be here for dinner. Maybe I’ll have a nice quiet dinner by myself, and I won’t have to face his inquisitive eyes.
Hope was born as she reached the small dining room, and paused for a moment in the doorway. The room was beautifully furnished in ivory and burgundy. A crystal chandelier with loops of roped glass glittered over a round table, and gold-tinted ivory chairs with burgundy velvet seats flanked the table. A mirrored buffet facing the door reflected an unfamiliar Ashley, standing there with apprehension in her rounded eyes.
When the slender man wearing a white coat and dark trousers turned around from a small bar at the end of the room, she knew her hopes were only wishful thinking.
“Good evening, Mrs. Gordon. You look lovely tonight.”
Chapter Three
Kyle had been betting with himself that Jill Gordon would show up for dinner in some sexy outfit, but he wasn’t prepared for the sudden start he experienced when he saw her in the doorway. Her honey-blond hair was swept up in a casual twist, and silver earrings glittering like moving stars framed her lovely face. As she came toward him, the soft material of her red dress rippled over long silk stockings and clung to her waist and breasts.
“Lovely,” he repeated, and tightened the hold on his glass as he greeted her. She was one sexy female.
“Thank you. I wasn’t certain whether or not I should dress for dinner, but I see that I made the right choice,” she said as she let her eyes travel over his jacket, pleated white shirt and gold cuff links. Dark eyebrows accented his dark brown eyes and a generous mouth was nicely framed with a dimpled chin and firm cheeks. He was what Jill would have called “drop-dead handsome.”
“I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make this an occasion,” he answered smoothly. “Your first night here should be treated as something special. Putting our best foot forward, so to speak.”
“Do you do that for all the new help?”
He mentally stiffened. There was a depth to her eyes that was disconcerting. The usual bland flattery wasn’t working the way he expected. Above everything else, he didn’t want to alert her to the fact that her presence here was anything beyond her duties as a nanny.
“Hugo gave instructions to make you welcome,” he said smoothly. “May I offer you a drink? I don’t want to brag but my skills as a bartender are equal to any challenge.”
For some perverse reason, Ashley remembered a popular drink the college students had touted for a while. Before she had time to think about it, she said, “How about Sex on the Beach?”
He was tempted to ask if that was an offer, but he restrained himself. This was the good-time, party girl that he’d been expecting. In a way, he was relieved. Keeping Jill Gordon happy might be easier than he thought.
He set down his Scotch and soda. “Sex on the Beach coming up. I’ll make you the best one you ever had.”
That won’t be hard, since I’ve never had one, thought Ashley, already put-out with herself for not asking for her usual daiquiri. Now she had one more thing she’d have to warn her twin about when they switched places. Asking Jill what she was drinking nowadays had never occurred to her. It would be just like Jill to say, “I never drink anything but martinis.”
“Here you go.” Kyle handed her a bubbling pink drink, and waited for her to take a sip.
“Mmmm,” Ashley murmured, hoping she was making the right response. The drink had a pleasant punch flavor, but she worried about how much of a kick was hidden in its sweetness.
He picked up the small pitcher that contained the remainder of her drink, and set it on the dining table where two places had been set facing each other. “Gerta will be serving in a few minutes. She knows I like to enjoy a drink before dinner. Please sit down, Jill. May I call you, Jill?” he asked as he guided in her chair.
“Yes, of course,” she said, trying to quell a nervous tightening in her stomach. How in the world could she avoid the dangerous pitfalls inherent in any idle dinner conversation when the truth must be laced with lies?
“First names seem better all around even though Hugo frowns on too much familiarity amongst the staff,” he said. “We all toe the mark when he’s around, but you know the old adage—when the cat’s away.” He took the chair opposite her. “I’m delighted to have such a vivacious dinner partner. Since we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, we might as well get better acquainted.”
Ashley tried to keep a pleasant smile on her face as she fought off a rising sense of panic. Now what? He obviously expected some entertaining table conversation. What if he started asking her questions whose answers he already knew?
Deciding offense was her own defense, she asked, “Where’d you learn to tend bar?”
Kyle set down his drink slowly. The question took him by surprise because he’d expected the conversation to totally revolve around Jill Gordon. From what he’d heard, this gal pretty much commanded the center of attention wherever she went. “A pretty dull story,” he parried. “Not the kind to interest a pretty lady.”
“Try me,” she challenged, steadily meeting his eyes over the rim of her glass.
“All right.” He leaned back in the chair. “My father had a small tavern in a New York Irish ghetto, where I grew up. We lived in a flat above the bar, and I guess I was more at home working with my pa than upstairs with my five sisters and my mother. What about you? Where’d you learn to appreciate Sex on the Beach—the drink, I mean?” he added with a flirtatious grin.
“I’ve been to a few parties,” Ashley said lightly, resenting his suggestive
