* *
Holly made sure Sophia was settled in her suite with her meal, a drink and the television remote handy. She had cut up the chicken and the vegetables so Sophia could eat with her left hand using a fork. ‘I’ll be back in half an hour to bring up dessert and to clear your dishes,’ she said.
‘Muchas gracias,’ Sophia said with a soft smile. ‘You’re a good girl.’
Holly gave a little grunt of a laugh. ‘Try telling your boss that.’
Sophia looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. ‘You don’t need to be bad to be noticed. There are other ways to get his attention.’
Holly frowned. ‘I’m not trying to get anyone’s attention.’
Sophia gave her a sage look. ‘Earning someone’s respect takes time. It also takes honesty.’
Holly fiddled with a loose button on her cardigan. ‘Why should I bother trying to earn someone’s respect when I’m not going to be here long enough to reap the benefits?’
‘Señor Ravensdale could help you get on your feet,’ Sophia said. ‘He could give you a good reference. Find employment for you. Recommend you to someone.’
Holly snorted. ‘Recommend me for what? Scrubbing someone’s dirty floors? No thanks.’
Sophia released a sigh. ‘Do you think someone who’s in charge of maintaining the upkeep of a house is not worthy of respect? If so, then you’re not the person I thought you were. People are people. Jobs are jobs. Some people get the good ones, others the bad ones—sometimes because of luck, other times because of opportunity. But as long as each person is doing the best job they can where they can, then what’s the difference between being a CEO and a cleaner?’
‘Money. Status. Power.’
‘Money will buy you nice things but it won’t make you happy.’
‘I’d at least like the chance to test that theory,’ Holly said.
Sophia shook her head at her. ‘You’re young and angry at the world. You want to hit out at anyone who dares to come close in case they let you down. Not everyone will do that, querida. There are some people you can trust with your love.’
Holly swallowed a golf ball-sized lump of sudden emotion. Her father had called her querida. She still remembered his smiling face as he’d reached for her and held her high up in his arms, swinging her around until she got dizzy. His eyes had been full of love for her and for her mother. They had been a happy family, not wealthy by any means, but secure and happy.
But then he had died and everything had changed.
It was as though that life had happened to another person. Holly felt like a different person. She was no longer that sweet, contented child who embraced love and gave it unquestionably in return. She was a hardened cynic who knew how to live on her wits and by the use of her sharp tongue. She didn’t feel love for anyone.
And she was darn certain no one felt it for her.
‘I’d better go serve His High and Mightiness his dinner,’ Holly said. ‘I’ll see you later.’
‘Holly?’
She stopped at the door to look back at the housekeeper. ‘What?’
‘Don’t make things worse for him by speaking to the press if they come here. He doesn’t deserve that. He’s trying to help you, in his way. Don’t bite the hand that’s reached out to help you.’
‘Okay, okay, already. I won’t speak to the press,’ Holly said. ‘Why would I want to? They’ll only twist things and make me look bad.’
‘Can I trust you?’
‘Yes.’
‘He won’t let you win, you know.’
Holly kept her expression innocent. ‘Win what?’
Sophia gave her a knowing look. ‘I know what you’re trying to do but it won’t work. Not with him. If he wants to get involved with you then it will be on his terms, not yours. He won’t be manipulated or tricked into it.’
‘That’s quite some pedestal you’ve got him on,’ Holly said. ‘But then, he pays you good money. You’d say anything to keep your job.’
‘He’s a good man,’ Sophia said. ‘And deep down I know you’re a good woman.’
You don’t know me, Holly thought as she closed the door. No one does.
I won’t let them.
JULIUS WAS STANDING at the windows of the dining room when Holly came in with the food. She unloaded the tray on the table and then turned briskly to leave.
‘Aren’t you joining me?’ he asked.
Her chin came up. ‘Apparently I’m not dressed for the occasion.’
There was a bite to her tone that made him wonder if he had upset her. Embarrassed her. Hurt her, even. She always acted so defiant and in-your-face feisty that to hear that slightly wounded note to her voice faintly disturbed him. There was so much about her that intrigued him. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to uncover her secrets. The secrets he caught a glimpse of in her eyes. The shifting shadows on her face he witnessed when she didn’t think he was looking at her.
She was an enigma. A mystery he wanted to solve. She played the bad girl so well, yet he saw elements to her that showed her vulnerability, her kindness. Like the way she had taken over the kitchen so Sophia could rest. That showed sensitivity and kindness, didn’t it? Or was he being the biggest sucker out to fall for it? Was it all an act? A charade? How could she be as bad as she made out? What was her motive to make him think she was out to seduce him? Was it because he wasn’t taking her up on it? Did his refusal to succumb to the temptation she offered make her see him as even more of a challenge?
‘It’s not a formal dinner,’ Julius said. ‘If I had guests, then, yes, I would insist on you dressing appropriately. I’m sorry I didn’t realise you haven’t the suitable attire in which to do so but that will be rectified as soon as possible tomorrow.’
Her small, neat chin came up. ‘Once you’ve coughed up that dictionary you’ve swallowed, maybe you’ll have room for the dinner I’ve prepared. Bon appetit.’
He let out an exasperated breath. ‘Look, if I’ve upset you I’m sorry. But things are a little crazy for me just now.’
Her eyes flashed with unbridled disdain. ‘Why would I be upset by someone like you? I don’t care about your opinion of me or my clothes. It means nothing to me. You mean nothing to me.’
Julius pulled out the chair to the left of his. ‘Please join me for dinner.’
Her mouth took on a mutinous pout. ‘Why? So you can train me like a pet monkey?’ She put her hands on her hips, deepened her voice and did a surprisingly credible imitation of his British accent. ‘Don’t hold your knife like a dagger. That’s the wrong fork. Don’t cut your bread. Break it. No, don’t call it a serviette, call it a napkin.’
Julius couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching. She had definitely missed her calling. She could tread the boards as well as anyone. ‘I promise not to criticise you.’
She narrowed her gaze in scepticism. ‘Promise?’
He didn’t know which Holly he preferred—the snarky challenger or the hot little seductress. Both, he realised with a jolt of surprise, were vastly entertaining. ‘Promise.’
She made a little huffing noise. ‘Fine.’
He seated her then came around