rather stand, if you don’t mind,’ she said, trying not to bristle at being ordered about so impolitely.
His gaze was cool as he looked up from stirring sugar into his black coffee. ‘I do mind.’
Sam gave a perplexed frown. ‘I really don’t think it’s appropriate for maintaining our employer/employee relationship for me to join you at the dinner table.’
‘I think the appropriateness or otherwise of our situation will be dispensed with the moment you have to help me prepare for bed later tonight!’
Sam instantly felt the heat of embarrassment burning in her cheeks—a blush she knew would clash horribly with the red of her hair—at this reminder that this was one of the duties she had agreed to when she took this job. A totally ridiculous embarrassment, when she had been a married woman for over three years.
Except she hadn’t been married to Xander Sterne.
Xander Sterne was in a whole different category from Malcolm when it came to physical prowess. Despite the inconvenience of having had a broken leg for six weeks, which had seriously affected his mobility, he was still all lean muscle and barely leashed power.
The thought of having to help him prepare for bed later tonight, including being available in case he needed help with his shower, was enough to make Sam feel hot all over, and she had to clasp her hands tightly together behind her back so that he wouldn’t see they were trembling.
‘All the more reason for us to maintain the formalities between us,’ she countered coolly.
Xander rarely used this formal dining room, and he hadn’t enjoyed eating dinner on his own in here this evening either. So much so that he was going to instruct Samantha to serve his meals in the kitchen in future. But he couldn’t help notice her discomfort at his mention of needing her help later tonight.
He wasn’t exactly looking forward to the awkwardness of that experience himself, but for a few seconds Samantha had looked positively horrified at the reminder of it, before she quickly masked the emotion. An emotion that was still evident in the flush in her cheeks, and the trembling hands she had attempted to hide from him by thrusting them quickly behind her back.
Proving she wasn’t quite as cool and composed as she wished to appear...
‘I’m starting to get a crick in my neck from looking up at you,’ he bit out impatiently.
‘I’m not tall enough for you to get a crick in your neck.’ She eyed him sceptically.
She had a point; even with Xander seated at the table their eyes were almost on the same level.
‘Look, Samantha, I really am trying to refrain from actually ordering you to sit down,’ he rasped testily.
‘Why?’
‘Because you obviously took exception to it a few minutes ago,’ he bit out irritably.
Once again Xander watched the emotions flickering across Samantha’s delicately thin face, seeing reluctance, and then irritation, as good sense obviously won out, and she pulled out the chair opposite him before lowering herself down to perch uncomfortably on its edge.
She raised her chin. ‘I believe you wanted to discuss the rules for the time Daisy and I are staying here?’
That had been what Xander wanted to discuss with her, but now it came to it he felt like a complete and utter heel for having even mentioned the subject. It had seemed to upset Samantha earlier, and even more so now, although he had no idea why.
Admittedly, he hadn’t been in the best of moods after falling over earlier but he had accepted Daisy’s apology, hadn’t he?
He hadn’t heard so much as a peep out of the little girl for the last three hours or so. In fact, it had been so quiet he wouldn’t even have known there was a child staying in his apartment.
Which was exactly what he had wished for earlier this evening, wasn’t it?
His mouth thinned. ‘I’m sure you’ll agree there have to be some rules for the three of us living here together?’
‘Which we should perhaps have discussed in more detail before I accepted the job,’ she said with a grimace.
‘No doubt,’ he conceded impatiently.
Samantha nodded stiffly. ‘The first one of those rules is no running in the hallways, I believe?’
Xander searched that pale face for either sarcasm or humour, but she gazed back at him without emotion. As if Samantha had heard all of this before, in another time and another place.
‘My requests are really only a matter of common sense,’ he snapped his irritation. ‘For your own and Daisy’s sake, as much as for my own.’
‘Oh?’ Samantha raised one auburn brow.
‘Yes, I— Look, I’m not used to having children around me, okay?’ Xander ran an exasperated hand through his hair. ‘I wouldn’t want to—I wouldn’t want—’ He wouldn’t want to what? Explode in temper at that timid little girl?
Would he do that to her? Could he do that? Was that monster he had discovered inside him capable of doing something so horrible to a five-year-old girl?
Xander no longer knew the answer to that question; that was the problem!
His mouth firmed. ‘No running in the hallways, no screaming or shouting, no loud television programmes—especially in the mornings. And, as I’ve already said, no entering my bedroom suite, and definitely no touching any of the artwork.’
None of which applied to her, Sam acknowledged wearily, but was all aimed specifically at her daughter.
She certainly wasn’t prone to screaming and shouting, or watching loud television programmes at any time of the day or night. Nor did she have any intention of entering Xander’s bedroom suite, other than those occasions when she had to help him in or out of the shower, or to dress. Nor was there any reason for her to touch any of his no doubt priceless artwork. Why would she need to? He had a cleaning service that came in twice a week to vacuum and dust and do the laundry.
All of his rules were for the benefit of her daughter.
They were very similar to the rules that Malcolm had laid down for Daisy’s behaviour. Except he had gone even further once Daisy began to walk and talk, and stated that he didn’t so much as want to see or hear her. At least Xander hadn’t gone that far.
Sam stood up and began to walk towards the kitchen. ‘That all seems perfectly clear.’
‘Samantha!’
She halted abruptly but didn’t turn, swallowing as she realised her throat felt clogged with emotion. With tears. For having brought her daughter into yet another household where Daisy could perhaps be seen this time, but was certainly never to be heard.
Somehow she had expected more of Xander Sterne.
Oh, she had known before she met him, from reading newspaper articles about him over the years, that he was an arrogant playboy, who played as hard as he worked. She had also been aware, when she’d met him on Wednesday, that he obviously resented needing her help while his brother was away and she had been prepared to deal with that.
But she wasn’t sure she could deal with having to subdue her daughter’s enthusiasm for life just to make him happy.
She was no longer interested in making any man happy. Which was the main reason Sam hadn’t so much as dated once these past three years; she had vowed never to put her daughter in a situation like the one she had suffered with Malcolm for the first two years of her life.
Once again Sam reminded herself that beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Perhaps not, but she didn’t have to let another arrogant man dictate his terms to her, either.
She wanted this job—the money