Master Of Maramba. Margaret Way
on my career I’m in need of a complete change.”
Royce McQuillan stayed quiet for a moment wondering if she’d suffered some kind of nervous collapse. A burnout.
“I hardly see you as a governess,” he said. “What do you know about the job?”
“Nothing!” Her amber eyes sparkled. “But I like children.”
“Being able to handle them might matter more,” he observed, his eyes touching on her slender body in a summery two-piece outfit of blouse and skirt, white with dark blue polka dots, the short skirt showing off her beautiful legs, the V-neck of the top revealing the slight cleft between her milk-white breasts. She had the flawless skin of certain redheads. Not a mark on it for all she lived in a subtropical climate.
Carrie bore his scrutiny by sitting very quietly. A kind of balancing act. “Who said I couldn’t?” she retorted. “I’ve had quite a bit to do with talented children, coaching, giving lessons, master classes for the little ones.”
“Regina is a child who likes getting her own way,” he said matter-of-factly as though it needed to be said. “I don’t know what James told you,” McQuillan glanced in her uncle’s direction, “but her mother left her in my sole custody. Regina isn’t desolated but understandably she’s found that difficult to handle.”
As well she might, Carrie thought. Abandoned so early in life. This dizzyingly dynamic man for a father. “I had to live without my mother,” she said quietly. “I’ve had a stepmother for most of my life.”
“You don’t like her?” he asked bluntly.
“There’s no point in talking about it.” Carrie shook her head, not wanting to be humiliated by this man any further. He didn’t like her. She wasn’t being terribly likeable. Under no circumstances would he employ her. She made to rise. “It was just an idea I had. A spur of the moment thing. Besides something about the story moved me. Regina’s feelings that can’t be dismissed and I need to help someone.” To help myself, to survive, she thought but didn’t say. “I’m sure Uncle James will find you someone you consider suitable, Mr. McQuillan.” She stood up in one swift graceful movement. “I must decline your kind offer to have lunch. I have to see someone this afternoon at the Conservatorium.” Easy to make it up.
He, too, stood up, his expression a little darker. “What a pity. I would have liked to get to know you better instead of a few snatched words. James has spoken of you often. I’ve just recalled where I saw you though I can see it has since disappeared.” He turned to James. “Remember that photograph of a little girl you used to have on your desk. It had a lovely antique silver frame.”
“Carrie, of course!” James’ face lit up. “It’s at home. Liz went off with it. She loves that one.”
“I was ten at the time.” Carrie looked at Royce McQuillan in surprise.
“You haven’t changed at all.”
“I have, too.” I’m falling apart, Carrie thought, stunned how well she hid it. I just have to get away from this man.
“You’re wonderfully observant, Royce,” James said in his charming voice, fully conscious of the charge in the atmosphere.
“It’s not a face one forgets.”
“No.” James smiled at his niece, his heart in his eyes. “Carrie is the image of her mother, my darling sister, Caroline. Having Carrie, Caro is always near.” He reached out and slipped an arm around Carrie’s waist, drawing her to him.
“Love you,” she murmured, turning her head into her uncle’s shoulder. “Well, I must be off.” Her voice picked up briskly. “Enjoy your lunch.”
“Let’s see, I take it you’ve withdrawn your candidature?” Again Royce McQuillan cast his spell over her, his brilliant black gaze suggesting she was a highly volatile individual.
“I didn’t think you liked me?” she answered solemnly.
“Did I say so?”
“I believe you did. In certain ways.”
“Really?” One black eyebrow shot up. “I’m sorry you thought so. I didn’t mean it in that way. If you are serious, perhaps we can discuss the matter again as you absolutely must rush off.” It was obvious he hadn’t believed in her excuse.
“When do you fly back home, Royce?” James Halliday asked, not quite sure what was going on. But something certainly was.
“Tomorrow.”
His gaze held her as though she was pinned to the wall. “I think you want someone very different from me,” Carrie said, suddenly anxious to back out of a dangerous situation while she could. This man could change her life. She knew it. And not for the better. She wasn’t such a fool or so traumatized it hadn’t struck her, though her reactions were multiple, the overriding one was sexual. The slightest contact with his hand had somehow compromised her. This man still had an ex-wife in the background. An ex-wife who wasn’t over him yet. The mother of his child.
Carrie tilted her head to kiss her uncle’s cheek. “See you, Jamie. Give my love to Liz.”
“You are coming sailing with me?” James was mystified by her thoughts.
“Of course I am. Let’s hope for a perfect weekend.” Her skirt flaring as she changed direction, Carrie dared to glance in Royce McQuillan’s direction. “I’m thinking how I’m going to get out of my parking spot. You’re still there?”
“I don’t know if I should let you do it,” he said with a provocative stare.
“Do what? It would be nice if you’d let me in on this,” James complained.
“I met Mr. McQuillan earlier on,” Carrie explained. “We’re both parked in the side street.”
“I can come with you if you’re worried,” Royce McQuillan offered suavely. “Perhaps extricate your car.”
“This time I might have to allow you.” The accident had made her lose so much confidence. “I wouldn’t like to do the slightest damage to your car.”
“Not mine. A friend’s.”
“I see.” She nibbled her lip. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. I have many talents but I’m not the greatest parker in the world.”
“So you’ve said.” He took her arm lightly though he might as well have shaken her such was her reaction. “Won’t be more than five minutes, James.”
“Take your time.” James was doing his level best to assess this surprising situation, but was content to let fate take its course.
“Are you really meeting anybody?” Royce McQuillan asked when they were out on the street.
“I wonder you doubt me.” If he hadn’t released her she would have had to pull away.
“I do.” He wondered what it would be like to kiss her mouth. Hard. Kiss the curve of her neck, the swell of her breast. Dangerous to have such thoughts about someone so young. Too young. He remembered James had told him all about his niece’s twenty-first birthday party. But hang on, that had to be a year or more ago. Time went so swiftly.
“Stay like that,” he ordered when they reached the footpath alongside the parked cars. “Just give me your keys.”
“You will be careful.” She couldn’t understand why she was trying to provoke him. She closed her eyes as their fingers touched.
He didn’t bother to answer. Instead he crammed himself into her tiny car, shot back the driver’s seat as far as it would go, then in a matter of moments had the car waiting, ready for her to get into it and drive away.
“How very nice of you,” she said, unable to get the cool satirical note out of her voice. She stood well back while he extricated himself from her car.