Indecent Encounter: The Silverhaus Affair (4 page)

B
rushing
my hair up into a ponytail made me wince. My arms ached, my back was stiff, and I could even feel the pull of tired muscles in my butt and thighs. Still, I was beginning to like my job, and I could even see the possibility of getting along with Jamison despite his stiff British exterior. I smiled at myself in the tiny mirror of my attic bathroom. I didn’t even mind that the shower was broken up here, because I’d discovered that the pool house bathroom was like a private luxury spa with one of those fancy rain type shower-heads.

It was still early even by Jamison’s standards, and I smiled again. I had been up for an hour, sitting at the small writing table in my room. It felt good to see the scribbled pages of my screenplay stacking up next to my laptop. I could’ve easily typed it all, but something about this room and being in a mansion that was built before modern technology was invented inspired me to write the old-fashioned way, with paper and pen. After talking with Alex about the independent film he wanted to make, my imagination felt like it'd been set on fire. I started writing in the evenings or whenever I could manage to catch a few spare moments while on a work break.

Not that Jamison gave me many breaks. The butler was still testing me, though he was running out of disgusting tasks. After I’d finished sweeping out the crawl space under the stairs, I'd organized everything in it and labeled all the boxes. Jamison had no choice but to tell me I'd done a good job.

I smiled and tapped my pen on my notepad. It appeared I was finally winning the stuffy old Brit’s approval, and the work routine was falling into a rhythm. I imagined the rest of the summer would go even more smoothly. By the time I returned home, I'd have enough money for Karl, and at least a partially finished screenplay.

I closed the lid of my laptop and set my notebook with the finished pages on top. A sharp pang of guilt pulsed in my stomach. There on the desk was the pamphlet for Rainbow Roads. I should’ve emailed Zach that morning for an update. I hadn’t been checking in on my brother as often as I’d planned, partially because of the complications with Zach, but also because, as each day passed, I found myself more and more absorbed into my job and my life here. I carefully tacked the pamphlet on the wall and reminded myself why I was here.

The thought of my brother in a program that would help him flourish was enough to banish all my aches and pains. I couldn’t help but look around with a buoyant smile. The sweet attic room was light and airy, the perfect retreat from the not so bad job after all. Maybe Lady Luck was starting to smile on me for once.

I descended the tight staircase and discovered I had the small servants’ cottage kitchen to myself. I savored my extra time, making my morning coffee with the extravagant espresso machine that ground imported Italian beans. Despite my menial position, all of my food and such was provided for, and Jamison didn’t skimp on the staff provisions either. I felt like I was surrounded by all the small luxuries I could ever want.

When the buzzing of the coffee grinder was done, the morning settled back into blessed stillness. After the constant clatter of living in a college dormitory, the servants’ cottage was a peaceful sanctuary. I sat back and listened to the ivy rustling outside the window. Although the fancy coffee machine made espresso and café Americano, this morning I’d pushed the button for a frothy cappuccino. I heard the sound of the steam foaming the milk. I stepped over to the machine near the kitchen window to watch as the milk-foam billowed up in the cup. This time I heard a new sound in the still morning. Somewhere outside, water was lapping.

I wondered about it as I waited for my special cappuccino cup to fill to the wide, round rim. It brewed fresh, and straight into my coffee cup. As soon as it finished, I grabbed the cup and headed outside. The sound of the water had reminded me that I could sit by the swimming pool. One of the wicker lounge chairs along the sun deck would be the perfect place to finish my heavenly morning.

I floated out the front door of the servants’ cottage, and instead of heading across the courtyard to the main house, I turned right toward the pool. My coffee sloshed, and I lost a dollop of the lovely foam down the side of the cup as I ducked under the leafy, vine-covered pergola.

I blinked.
Did I just see a naked man?

I peered through the morning glories and caught another glimpse of golden skin. It was Alex. He strode along the sun deck and dove into the pool in one graceful arc. His naked body sliced into the water with only a small splash, and I watched as his powerful arms cut strong, steady strokes. He swam back and forth with ease, and I was mesmerized. Unable to help myself, I crept along the length of the pergola scouting out a better vantage point.
Wow. Talk about “perks” of the job.

The early morning sun was just touching the water when I found a gap between the morning glories and the climbing roses. Alex’s body moved through the clear water with the clean strokes of a practiced swimmer, and now, I could see all of him.

Wide shoulders tapered to a tightly muscled back, and his even tan suggested this was a daily practice. If that was true, I was setting my alarm clock early every day. He kicked, barely causing a splash, and I traced the defined muscles of his calves up to his flexing thighs and to the round crest of his tanned ass. It jutted out of the water and rolled with each long stroke. Instinctively, my fingers flexed around my coffee cup as I imagined what it would feel like to have my hands on that firm set of muscles.

He flipped at the edge of the pool, his feet slapping the surface as he somersaulted under water and then pushed off the wall. It was all easy, the smoothness of his actions hinting at the power he left in check.
Hot damn!
The competitive swimmers I knew at college would look like sticks next to Alex. He was an oak, not just tall, but solid and strong.

My cappuccino was getting cold, but I was unable to tear my eyes away. I teased myself, wishing he’d turn over and practice the backstroke, when he stopped at the wall right in front of me and stood waist deep in the water. I froze. Could he see me through the climbing roses? He shook the water out of his gold-streaked hair and smiled to himself, clearly enjoying the morning exercise. He rolled his shoulders, shook out his arms, and stretched. I savored each reach and pull, as the morning sun dried his body and I practically whimpered. All I could think about was pressing my cheek against his solid chest and feeling its warmth.

My fantasy slipped into visions of me brushing my lips across every dip and curve of his sculpted abs, me naked in front of him in the water and…
oh, my
. He pulled himself up onto the pool deck, and I gasped out loud. I cringed and prayed he wouldn’t come to investigate the sound. Alex cocked one eyebrow and stood facing the climbing roses. Thank god I was completely hidden in the shadows of the vines, because I couldn’t breathe, much less move.

My eyes widened as I took another look.
Good Lord
.

He was huge.

I’d never seen a man so well-endowed. It hung thickly against his thigh, another muscle waiting to be flexed. If this was what he looked like just out of the cool water, my mind buzzed with the thought of Alex aroused. I remembered the first time I tried giving a hand job and glanced down at my hand gripping the coffee mug. I wondered if I could even close my fingers around him.

My stomach twisted at the thought of having Alex in my hands and my gaze was pulled back to his magnificence. My boyfriend experience in college had consisted of a few fun encounters and two short-lived relationships. All I knew for certain was that they were all boys. Alex was all man.

I wanted him in a different way than the boys at college. There was no silly flutter of flirtation, or giggling rites of passage. More than curiosity or fun, my body ached to be touched by his, entered by him. I wanted his hands and mouth running over every inch of my body, leaving me burning. I imagined my fingers exploring his velvet soft skin as I lowered my head to taste him for the first time.

I felt a throb run through the center of me, and the deep desire to have him inside me was unlike anything I’d experienced. I realized I wanted him purely because he was a man and I was a woman. Primal. Primitive. And not as surprising as I'd have thought. Something about his presence, the mere look in his eyes and–well,
damn
, that sculpted body–pulled pure carnal lust from every cell in my body. It was metaphysical, beyond logic.

Suddenly, my clothes were too tight, too restrictive, I wanted to shed them and feel the cool morning air on my skin. I knew I could call out and Alex would find me hiding here. The thought electrified every nerve and I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Alex, not hearing anything else from my direction, shrugged his shoulders and snatched up a towel from a nearby lounge chair. I blinked as if coming out of a trance, and remembered those lounge chairs were the reason I’d come outside in the first place. I was going to drink my coffee in one of those chairs, except now my coffee was cold.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and turned away from me. I let out a breath. My shoulders relaxed. If just looking at him left me breathless, what else could he do to me? Right now, hiding in the flowers, I didn’t want to know. I saw the statuesque blonde woman reappear from the pool house, waving to Alex with a big smile. Alex’s head snapped up in a short nod, and he went around the pool to walk arm in arm with her toward the main house.

“Lucky,” I muttered.

“Yes, lucky I found you, otherwise, you’d be late for work.”

Oh crap.
I jumped. Jamison stood behind me with his arms crossed. When I turned, I sloshed more of my drink. By now it looked as if a volcano of frothy milk had erupted over the sides, and foam dripped to the ground. “I was just enjoying the roses, the pergola, it’s so…um…beautiful back here. I’m so lucky to work here.”

“You enjoyed the view, eh?” the butler asked, and I saw him almost smile. He swallowed it quickly and cleared his throat. “The staff is only allowed to use the pool on special occasions.”

“Except for the pool house shower, right? I was on my way back from the pool house,” I stammered.

Jamison looked from my complete lack of towel or toiletries to the bright red blush I could feel on my cheeks. “Lying is much worse than spying. Mr. Alex does not approve of either.”

“There’s no reason to tell him, is there?” My voice came out with a bit of a squeak.

“Tell him what?” Jamison gave me a smug smile. “Pull yourself together, Chelsea. Breakfast will be served in the main house in ten minutes. You should’ve been inside helping me prepare it.”

Jamison left me under the pergola licking the sweet foam off my hand where it’d run over my knuckles. I thought I heard him chuckle as he walked away. I tried to cool my flame-red cheeks, but it was no use. As I hurried off, another burst of laughter drifted out the open windows from the main house, and I considered hiding in my attic room for the rest of the day. Instead, I continued to the kitchen of the main house.

I was in such a rush to get inside and get to work that I plowed through the kitchen door, my sticky coffee cup leading the way. Once inside, I stopped short. I looked up to see Alex standing behind the immense kitchen island, his powerful bare chest still sprinkled with water droplets.

“Good morning, Chelsea,” he chirped with a mischievous smile.

From where I stood, the countertop was just the right height to conceal his towel and it looked as if he were completely naked. My cheeks turned red again. I figured I’d better stop staring and get to work, or I might not have a job at all, just a flight back to the States.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” he asked with a laugh and sauntered off through the kitchen, munching a strawberry he’d picked off a plate of fruit for the table.

I was pretty sure he enjoyed watching me fluster. He must’ve hung back, waited in the kitchen until I came in, purposely, to tease me. He could have waited in the breakfast nook at the table.
Sneaky bastard
.

I shoved my hair behind my ear, rinsed the coffee off my hands at the sink and set to work preparing the plates for breakfast as Jamison had instructed me. I hoped Alex would put on some clothes before sitting down to breakfast, or else I wouldn’t be able to focus on my work duties. A part of me wondered if his type flirted with the help just to break up the monotony of the day.

I picked up the serving platter of cut fruit and pushed my back against the door to the breakfast nook to open it, prepared to see more bare skin at the table. I supposed the rich could be as eccentric as they wanted.

“
T
he least you
could do is wear something nice for dinner,” Jamison snapped.

I glanced down at the white skirt and apron of my work uniform and then back up at the butler. I was confused. “I wasn’t sure if I was done working for the night or not.”

“Yes, I told you this morning we would be done with work at six o’clock, and, contrary to what Americans believe, it is a polite custom to change for dinner. Please tell me you at least brought a sundress or a skirt,” Jamison said.

I’d been here for two weeks now, and things were fine, but today was my birthday and I was fighting off the blues as it was, missing Clara and Zach on my special day. I had to bite my lip to keep from snapping back at the old staunch as I spun on my heels to go back upstairs to my attic room. Grumbling to myself, I dug through the wardrobe cupboard on the stairs, finally pulling out my white bustier sundress with the thin spaghetti straps and a short, flared skirt. I’d show him.
I do have something nice to wear for dinner, you old...

Luckily, I’d packed one nice dress on the off chance that I might have a reason to wear it sometime this summer despite my plans to spend all of my time working. I liked the way the built-in bra accentuated my figure. The fabric was white eyelet embroidered with a few delicate blue flowers across the top, and it was one of my favorites. I took down my ponytail and brushed out my hair so it fell over my bare shoulders, so long that it practically hid the thin straps of the dress. At least I'd feel good about how I looked on my birthday.

In the daytime for work, I went light on the make-up, but since I’d essentially been ordered to dress better for dinner, I decided to use this opportunity to show Jamison just how well this
American
could clean up. I tossed my hair out of my face and leaned into the mirror.

And maybe after dinner I’d run into Alex and give him a taste of his own medicine. I’d pretty much decided Alex Silverhaus was a player, a handsome, wealthy show-off who just liked to mess with people. Well, two could play his little game. I could be a tease, and then wave bye-bye just like he’d done earlier. I was almost positive he knew I'd been watching him in the pool, and he'd pulled the whole kitchen stunt intentionally. Sure, I'd gone all weak in the knees earlier when I'd seen his gorgeous body turning somersaults in the sparkling, blue pool, with water glistening on his golden skin...
dammit
…I needed to stop thinking about it. He was an arrogant ass.

I chose a sultry smoky eye shadow, and just the right amount of mascara to frame my eyes. A quick brush across my lips with a light pink gloss, and I was ready. I winked at myself in the mirror.

I cleaned up pretty damn good if I didn’t say so myself, and besides, it was my birthday. I was allowed to have a little fun.

D
inner
in the main kitchen was a regular thing. Usually, Jamison and I sat on the high stools at the kitchen island and tried to pretend that we were both civilized people. Tonight was different. When I entered the kitchen I was surprised to see the breakfast nook table set for three.

As I assessed the food preparations to see if I could help, I heard a voice come from the doorway.

“I hope you don’t mind if I crash your party,” Alex said.

He looked deliciously handsome in a crisp white, collared shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. The shirt contrasted perfectly with his tanned skin and golden hair. The glint of his expensive watch reflected off the kitchen lights when he pushed back a stray lock of hair that had fallen out of place.

Jamison sniffed, and said, “Mr. Alex is welcome whenever he wants.”

Out of habit, and mostly to avoid fawning over Alex, I went to the stove to help Jamison serve, but he swatted my hand away. He turned back to his work with barely a nod, but I knew it was his way of saying he approved of my dinner clothes. When I turned around, Alex was right in front of me opening a bottle of champagne, and there was nothing for me to do but stand between the two of them, feeling awkward. Jamison with his back to me, and Alex close enough in front that I had to slightly tip my head to look at him.

Well this was uncomfortable.

“My, my. You look very lovely, Chelsea.” Alex's eyes raked me up and down with approval.

I wished I were immune to his charm, but it felt like his hands had followed his gaze, and I couldn't stop my smile. I pulled my long hair to cover the bare skin at the top of my dress, and tried not to let him see how much he affected me. Now I knew the meaning of “undressing me with his eyes.”

“What do you say we have a little of the bubbly?” Alex gave me one of his heart-stopping smiles as he twisted the cork, and his eyes blazed into mine, daring me not to look away. The bottle exploded with the signature
pop
, but his eyes remained on me. Something inside my stomach twisted, and a jolt of electricity went zinging through my veins. He cocked an eyebrow as if to say, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

His charm was working, and it
had
gotten to me, though I didn’t want it to. Damn, I was so easy. I'd been gone the minute I'd laid eyes on him. I spun around and tried to sound casual as I talked to Jamison’s back. “Dinner smells wonderful, Jamison.” I rattled on, running sentences together out of sheer nerves. “What is it? Salmon? It looks like salmon. I love salmon.” I craned my neck and peered over his shoulder hoping the heat I felt was from the stove and not Alex.

“I know,” the butler said, “I also made those sweet potato French fries you raved about.”

“Oh, that was really kind of you. Thank you.” I calmed myself, and then turned back to find Alex handing me a glass of champagne.

“Is work going well?” Alex asked.

I just stared at him with my mouth open and blinked. What was going on? Why was he here, making small talk with me and drinking champagne while Jamison made my favorite foods?

Alex looked past me at Jamison and laughed. “I told you we should’ve gotten balloons.”

He picked up the bottle of champagne from the counter, and followed Jamison to the table in the breakfast nook while I stood there, gaping like an idiot.

“And I suppose I should’ve invited the neighbors and arranged for a circle of chairs in the living room too,” Jamison huffed as he pulled out a chair for me.

“A circle of chairs?” I asked as I sat down. “What are you talking about?

“Your birthday, of course. You really are oblivious, Chelsea,” Jamison said, pushing in my chair.

“He means ‘happy birthday,’ ” Alex said, sitting down across from me.

“This is all for my birthday?” I asked, surprised. “You shouldn’t have. But how did you know?”

“It was on your paperwork when you applied for the job,” Jamison chimed in.

“Oh, of course,” I said. “But usually I don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I’m assuming that means ‘thank you?’” Jamison asked Alex, eyebrow raised.

“I’m sorry, Jamison. Thank you! It’s just been a long time since I had a birthday party,” I said.

I felt a little more at ease now with the distance of a table between us, but Alex had chosen the seat directly across from me. That meant he had the perfect vantage point to punish me with his outrageously good looks. Maybe I could master the art of undressing him with my eyes too, but then again, I didn’t need to have much imagination to do that. I’d ready seen his incredibly hot body in all its naked glory. And that was the problem. The image of him standing by the pool easily popped into my head no matter how many times I tried to push it away. Even the thought of it now turned my cheeks pink.

Alex stared at me curiously. I touched my fingertips to my cheek, hoping my face wasn’t flushed enough to give away my thoughts.

“You probably don’t know how birthdays are celebrated in Holland, do you?” Alex turned to Jamison and said, “Jamison, we should’ve celebrated the way my father used to, in the tradition of Holland, and invite the family and neighbors over for coffee and cake.”

“Please, I’d rather not.” Jamison addressed me and explained, “In Holland the tradition is to put a circle of chairs in the living room, in which no one is allowed to leave their seat to mingle while they have coffee and cake. Quite boring, I’m afraid.” He gave me a placating smile. “I spared you the drudgery. It’s the old way. I prefer my way.”

“Oh, I see. That doesn’t sound so bad, the cake and coffee part.”

“Well, I made lemon meringue pie instead of a cake. I hope that will be acceptable,” Jamison said. He served all three of us before taking his own seat.

“We didn’t know your favorite dessert so Jamison made mine,” Alex said. “Now that I think about it, this is exactly what most of my childhood birthday parties were like.”

Jamison raised his champagne flute and said, “Happy birthday, Chelsea. I’m sorry, but I don’t sing.”

I laughed and raised my glass. “Thank you. I sing. I just don’t sing well. Believe me, you wouldn’t want to hear it. It sounds something like a dying cat. But this is wonderful.”

I sipped the dry champagne, and the bubbles tickled my nose. I wasn’t an expert on wines or champagne, but I could tell this was an expensive one. As I looked around the table at my two bosses, I realized for the first time that Alex treated Jamison more like family than a butler.

Just as I was thinking this, Alex leaned in and elbowed the older British man in the ribs. “Remember when David refused to eat the salmon because he could see all those green bones?”

The usual sternness faded from Jamison’s face when he turned to Alex, and something like fondness filled his eyes. “I kept trying to tell him it was just rosemary, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Henry made him sit at the table until he ate it all. He was still sitting there when I woke up the next morning,” Alex said.

“Alex was always an early riser, but you discovered that for yourself the other day, didn’t you, Chelsea?” Jamison asked as if holding a smile in check.

My breath seemed to solidify in my throat and I nearly choked. “Um…” was all I could get out so I took another sip of champagne to cover and just nodded. A knowing glance bounced between the two men, and I could tell by Alex’s wicked smile that Jamison had told him all about my spying, although I had a suspicion that Alex had already known. Shit.

“So, Chelsea, are you an early riser too?” Alex asked. His glance slid to my bustier top and his mouth softened.

“Yes, ever since I started college,” I said, hoping to turn the subject to something less embarrassing. “Seems like I always got stuck with the early classes.”

“What about swimming?” Alex said.

Damn him.

His steady gaze bore into me and something intense flared between us.
Oh crap
. I knew I shouldn’t be feeling this way about Alex. He was my boss. This kind of attraction could be dangerous, and the worse thing was, each time it happened, the pull became a little stronger
.
I knew he wouldn’t stop. I was sure he charmed the pants off every woman he met, and I was no different, even if I was the hired help. I supposed I should've been grateful that he saw me the same as every other woman he flirted with. I was nothing special.

I pushed the thought from my mind and answered his question, “I love swimming. Actually, I competed on my high school team.”

“Ah, finally a worthy opponent,” Alex said.

I thought I detected a flicker in his blue eyes. My pulse quickened at an implication I was sure I hadn't imagined.

“Perhaps you should join me,” he said. “I’ll let you train a bit before I challenge you to a race.”

The thought of joining him for a morning swim stopped my fork halfway to my mouth. I forced myself to take the bite and chew slowly, trying to keep the images of his glorious wet body out of my head.

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit.” I put my head down and chewed vigorously, glancing up only to see Jamison roll his eyes and then scowl at Alex. A warning of some kind?

Apparently, it had no affect on Alex. “No problem, just swim naked like me.”

I took another sip of champagne, but the bubbly did little to cool my burning cheeks. Alex’s light blue eyes were tracing their way down the spaghetti straps of my dress and across the creamy rise of my breasts. Suddenly, I regretted wearing such a seductive outfit. I’d planned on teasing him, and then brushing him off, but he was so compelling and his magnetism so potent, my plan was blowing up in my face. I kept reminding myself not to fall for it. He was a flirt, and I was here. That was all.

“I think you'd find it refreshing, and a little company would help kick start my workout. You know, get the blood pumping,” Alex said.

Much to my relief, a timer dinged in the kitchen. I didn’t need swimming to get my blood pumping; Alex was doing a fine job of that all by himself.

Jamison popped up from his chair and said, “Excuse me. I don’t want to burn the meringue.”

Once Jamison was out of the room, Alex said, “Yum.”

I watched, mesmerized, as he licked his lips. It was a purely sensual gesture, and I knew it had nothing to do with the pie. I imagined skipping dessert and letting him taste me instead. My nipples hardened at the thought, standing out against the thin fabric of my sundress. When Alex’s eyes grazed them, I felt the same sizzle of electricity that’d pulsed through me before.

If he could do that with only a look...

I pushed my sweaty palms down the skirt of my dress under the table and swallowed. “I…I wouldn’t want to intrude on your mornings,” I stammered, desperately thinking of something to say to change the subject. “Doesn’t your…ah…friend like to swim?”

“My friend?” Alex asked, puzzlement written on his face.

“Yes,” I said. “I’ve seen her before. The tall woman with the blonde hair?”

Jamison returned to the table and gave Alex a look I couldn’t read. Suddenly, the hot, flirtatious mood disappeared, and Alex's expression turned sullen. He leaned back in his chair in silence and pushed a green bean around on his plate with the fork.

“She’s very beautiful,” I ventured.

“Yes,” Alex said, his eyes still trained on the plate. “Carrie is very beautiful.”