Forever Hers Read online

  “My name is Eddie Fitzgerald. Baron, the owner of this house, is my cousin.”

  She scoffed. “If you think dropping the Fitzgerald name is going to convince me of anything, think again.”

  “I used a key to get inside the house,” Eddie ground out through clenched teeth, letting the keys dangle on his forefinger. “Where could I have gotten it unless they were given to me by the owners of this house?”

  “Show me an ID or I’m shooting.”

  Eddie relaxed. People who threatened to shoot most often weren’t shooters.

  “Fine. I’m going to reach inside my back pocket for my wallet.” He shifted slowly so he could see her but the glare from the flashlight made that impossible.

  “Don’t turn around. Get out of the house first then show it to me from across the threshold.”

  Eddie opened the door.

  “Leave the stolen goodies behind,” she ordered.

  He lowered his left arm and the straps slipped off his shoulder. The bag landed with a thud. As he stepped outside, he caught her reflection on the glass window bordering the rotunda foyer. He couldn’t see her face, but he noticed something that gave him a pause. Her hands were crossed at the wrists, the bottom hand gripping the flash light at a right angle and supporting the one holding the gun. Only cops held guns and flashlights like that when confronting a criminal. She also kept a safe distance from him, making it hard to rush her and disarm her, another precautionary move he learned at the Academy.

  “Are you a—?”

  The door slammed shut behind him and the locks clicked. The patio light came on at the same time as the ones inside the house, then muffled sounds followed as though she was running away.

  Eddie frowned. He might not appreciate being ordered around but he understood the woman’s vigilance. It couldn’t be easy living alone when a burglar was on the loose in your neighborhood. It also took guts to pull a gun on him. Many thugs had tried and lived to regret it.

  Maybe he should drive into Sandpoint and find a hotel for the night. He rapped on the door. “Uh, Mrs…uh, I’m leaving now. I’ll come back tomorrow morning and clear up this misunderstanding.”

  Footsteps resounded and came closer, and then an eye peered at him through the peep hole. “Just show me your ID.”

  Eddie sighed. “Listen. It’s late and I need to crash. We’ll clear everything in the morning. Sorry for waking you up.”

  She made an exasperated sound. “I’ve already woken up Lauren, the realtor in charge of this house. She just admitted she forgot to tell me someone would be coming to stay here for a few weeks. All I need is proof that you are who you claim to be then I’ll let you in. She also wants to talk to you.”

  This night couldn’t get any crazier. Eddie retrieved his wallet from his back pocket, pulled out his ID and held it up for her to read it. The bolts clicked and the door opened.

  Eddie didn’t know what he’d expected. It definitely wasn’t a woman in a T-shirt with the words This Is My Zombie Killing Shirt splattered in red across her chest. Skimpy shorts showed off firm and tanned legs, and mussed black hair cut short with bangs gave her an untamable look. Deep blue eyes, startling in their lack of hesitation, stared straight at him without guile and high cheekbones set off a lush mouth with a natural pout. Hot male fantasies could easily be weaved around those lips and some flashed in his head, blindsiding him. She wasn’t classically beautiful. Her unusual face combined with a short hairstyle made her look…interesting. Young.

  “Who the hell are you?” he asked.

  “Amy Kincaid.” She offered him the cell phone. “Lauren hired me to housesit for your cousin, but I’m also the housekeeper, gardener and cook. Whatever you need, I provide it.”

  “A bed would be nice,” he said.

  “After you speak with Lauren.” She shook the phone impatiently. “And please, lower your voice?”

  Eddie didn’t take the phone or dignify her request to keep his voice low. The thought of spending the next several weeks with this woman was unsettling. “What happened to the other housekeeper?”

  “I never met her, but I was told she moved to Florida to live closer to her daughter and her new grandchild. I’m just as efficient as she was.” She raised the phone again and smiled, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Lauren is still waiting and so is your bed.”

  Eddie took the cell phone then slowly brought it to his ear, his eyes not leaving hers.

  “Yeah,” he barked on the phone.

  “Mr. Fitzgerald, please accept my apology. My name is Lauren Holliday with Waterfront Resort Rentals. I got a call from Kara that you’d be arriving later this week, but I hadn’t gotten around to forwarding that message to Amy. I hope we haven’t inconvenienced you.”

  “It’s my fault I arrived a few days early.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, Amy is an amazing cook and she’s very efficient. She comes with glowing credentials and will take good care of you,” the faceless Lauren continued.

  “I don’t need a cook or to be taken care of, Ms. Holliday,” Eddie said, noticing how Amy Kincaid stiffened and a flash of panic zipped through her eyes. Or maybe he’d imagined it; he decided when her eyes narrowed and her chin thrust forward. “What I need is a bed.”

  “What do you mean you don’t need her, Mr. Fitzgerald? Amy has a contract with us. Your cousin and his wife were very specific about what they wanted in a housesitter, and that is a live-in housekeeper and cook.”

  “I’m not my cousin, Ms. Holliday. Ms. Kincaid can take the time off or visit relatives. I don’t need a maid.”

  Blue fire flashed in Amy Kincaid’s eyes.

  “Mr. Fitzgerald—”

  “I’m sure Ms. Kincaid and I can sort this out in the morning. Goodnight, Ms. Holliday.” He passed the phone back to Amy.

  “Thanks, Lauren,” Amy said when she brought the cell phone to her ear. “Yeah, I’ll take care of this. Promise.” She closed the phone and gave Eddie a stiff smile. “Don’t worry, Mr. Fitzgerald. I’ll be ready to discuss our arrangement first thing in the morning. Goodnight.” She turned and walked away.

  Eddie hurried to catch up, turned left when she did. He opened his mouth to ask her where his bedroom was, but she placed a finger on her lips and shushed him then opened a door and disappeared inside. The door closed with a soft click.

  He waited for her to come out again. Seconds passed. Damn it, she wasn’t coming out and he had no idea where his bedroom was. There was only one other door at the end of the hallway, but when he opened it, it led to the garage. Pivoting on his feet, Eddie went in the other direction, opening door after door.

  Great way to start his vacation—pissing off the housekeeper.

  CHAPTER 2

  Raelynn was still asleep when Amy slipped out of the bedroom. In the kitchen, Amy set about preparing one hell of a breakfast to woo Eddie Fitzgerald. He’d beg her to stay once he was done eating.

  Leaving here wasn’t an option. They had nowhere to go, no money to rent a place or check into a hotel. A chunk of what she had saved before leaving Virginia had gone into furnishing Raelynn’s bedroom. The money from her books, the money the Fitzgeralds paid her and the rest of her savings was barely enough to feed them and clothe her daughter. Her daughter was growing like a bean pole. Every month she shot up a few inches. Amy needed to publish more books, which meant more time spent writing. Unfortunately, her writing had taken a back seat as she focused on her daughter’s well-being.

  Outside of writing steamy romance novels, cooking was another one of her talents. When in the kitchen, Amy often slipped in the zone. She danced and hummed along with the music from her MP3 player while flipping pancakes like a pro. Keeping an eye on the sizzling bacon, she stirred the eggs and turned the hash browns. There was orange juice in the fridge and fresh brew in the coffeemaker. Everything was almost ready.

  A feeling of being watched crept over her and Amy turned.

  Eddie Fitzgerald rested his arms on top of the chest-level wa
ll surrounding the sunken living room and studied her, a hint of a smile on his lips. A mask slipped into place as soon as he realized she’d noticed him. Her jaw almost dropped when he straightened his tall body and started toward her.

  He was gorgeous. Masculine. Naked. Half-naked, but pot-tay-toes, pot-at-toes. Her gaze ran across his broad, masculine shoulders, a chest that went on forever, before dipping to a ridged stomach, which seemed to contract under her eyes. A thin line of hair disappeared under the waistband of his pajama bottoms, which hung way too low to be decent.

  The first sign that he didn’t appreciate her ogling him was when she backtracked to his face and saw his lips pressed tight in a thin line, the earlier glimpse of a smile long gone. Her gaze flew to his and she swallowed at the flash of silver in the gray eyes. Pissing him off wasn’t a good way to earn brownie points.

  “Good morning,” she said in an upbeat voice, trying to pretend she hadn’t noticed his annoyance.

  He pointed at his ear.

  “What?” Amy asked.

  He closed the gap between them, bringing with him a wave of sexual energy that had Amy taking a step back. She hated that he made her nervous. It was one thing ogling him across the floor. He was overwhelming up close.

  He plucked the ear buds from her ears.

  Her face hot, Amy turned off the MP3 player and flashed him an apologetic grin. “Sorry about that. I forgot I had them in.”

  “Do you always make this much noise in morning?” he asked.

  Amy blinked at his frosty voice. “Noise?”

  He crossed his arms and studied her with narrowed eyes. “Banging pots…singing at the top of your lungs.”

  Was she? Probably. “Humming.”

  “Screaming.”

  She rolled her eyes. She could either take offense at his attitude or be the bigger person and make light of the situation.

  “I sing all the time. Beautifully. No caterwauling or screaming. Just a sec.” She removed the last pancake, turned off the stove and took a few steps back, making sure there was considerable space between her and his chest. That expanse of pure muscle was too distracting. “Did I wake you?”

  He made derisive sound. “No. I was already up.”

  “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Being in a strange bed does that to some people. Me? I can sleep anywhere…sofa, sleeping bag, bet I could even sleep under rock. Are you a morning person?”

  A confused expression flashed across his face. “Yes. Why?”

  “Because Raelynn likes music, too. She usually plays the MP3 on the docking station and cranks up the volume.”

  “What kind of music?”

  “Zumba.”

  He scowled. “What?”

  “Salsa, merengue, cha-cha, samba, hip-hop…anything with rhythm.”

  His scowl deepened. “Of course.”

  “You don’t like dance music?”

  “Does classic rock count?”

  She chuckled. “No. How do you like your coffee?” she asked, indicating the coffeemaker.

  “Black, strong.”

  “Then you’ll like this. I tend to use creamers myself.” She was babbling. She tended to do that when nervous. She placed the mug in front of him then propped her hip against the counter and studied him since he was busy studying her.

  He had an unforgettable face. Sharp cheekbones, square jaws and piercing gray eyes that didn’t say much. His dark wavy hair was cut short, but not too short. Unruly strands rebelled and curled across his brow and at his nape. His skin was bronze, like he spent time outdoors. The turned down waistband indicated no tan lines either. A nudist? Interesting.

  “About last night,” she said casually, noticing he hadn’t touched his coffee. “I don’t usually pull a gun on unsuspecting people, and I make a really mean cup of coffee.” She slid the steaming cup closer. “Go on, try it.”

  She’d hoped for a smile, but got a frown instead. Mr. Fitzgerald was obviously not a morning person. How long was he planning on staying? Baron and Kara Fitzgerald tended to visit for a few days to a week before heading back to L.A.

  “Excuse me for asking a dumb question, but who is Raelynn?” Eddie asked.

  “My daughter.”

  He looked around, his gaze zeroing on the toys piled by the door leading to the patio before coming back to her. “How old is she?”

  “Almost five going on thirty. Her birthday is in two weeks.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Still asleep, but she’ll be up any minute. Why do you ask?”

  “I’d like us to have an adult discussion without a child clouding anyone’s judgment.”

  He was going to say he didn’t need a housekeeper again. She just knew it. “Okay, but FYI, I have an iron-clad contract, so if you are thinking of kicking us out, I will sue you from here to kingdom come and win,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel.

  Eddie scowled. “Why would I kick you out?”

  “Because you said you didn’t need me last night and that I should take a hike.”

  “I never said that.”

  “That’s what I heard.” She picked up her coffee mug with an unsteady hand and sipped, her gaze not shifting from his. “Why don’t we talk outside? You go put on a shirt or something while I dish up your breakfast.”

  Eddie stared down at his bare chest as though realizing for the first time he was shirtless. A sheepish expression softened his features and heat coiled in Amy’s stomach, surprising her. It shot up a notch when he turned, giving her a view of his back. Powerful broad shoulders. Narrow hips. Killer ass. The man had a beautiful body.

  Just before he disappeared into the hallway leading to the master bedroom, Eddie turned and caught her in the act. Without slowing down, he raised the mug to his lips and sipped, heat flashing in his eyes.

  Amy blinked then exhaled. What the hell was that about? She chewed her lower lip contemplating her next move. Eddie Fitzgerald was an impossible man to read and that bugged her. She wasn’t used to being around such…raw power. It wasn’t cultivated. Some men, like Eddie, just had a presence. Others faked it. Nolan, despite being a cop, couldn’t drum up a reaction from people unless he held a gun, so he compensated by being a bully.

  Stop it, Amy.

  Finding flaws in men was a deplorable habit she’d picked up after her divorce. She always searched for a physical feature or a character trait they shared with Nolan. It gave her an excuse not to become involved. Unfortunately, she often found something.

  Amy carried plates and utensils to the patio table. Golden sun rays kissed the alpine vegetation and a gentle breeze blew ripples across the lake. She preferred eating outside because of the crisp morning air and the amazing view from the patio. Today, she chose it in case Raelynn woke up and saw their new guest before Amy could talk to her. Her daughter didn’t take well to strangers, especially men.

  Eddie returned just as Amy brought out the pitcher of orange juice. He came back in a pair of jeans that showcased his long masculine legs and a T-shirt that hugged his chest and arms. His feet were bare, which drew her attention to his toes. She never thought a guy’s feet would be attractive. She dragged her gaze away.

  “This looks good.” Eddie pulled out a chair for her before taking one himself.

  “Thank you.”

  For a moment, there was silence as they stared at each other. Amy fidgeted when he didn’t speak. “I slaved hard to make this, so go ahead.” And then another thought hit her and she added, “Unless you need to pray.”

  He smiled and his face softened. The smile cinched it. This guy was dangerous. On the scale of one to ten, Eddie was an eleven plus. Nothing like the men she’d foolishly dated. Was he married? She hadn’t noticed a ring. Not that it mattered, she wasn’t interested in him that way.

  “Can we discuss the logistics of our new living arrangements first?” he said, sounding so serious she chuckled.

  “You make it sound so formal. I
will do everything your wife does except sleep with you, Mr. Fitzgerald.”

  “It’s Eddie. And I wouldn’t know everything a wife does. I’m not married.”

  “Then think of me as your housekeeper,” she said.

  “I’ve never had one.”

  From what Lauren had told her, the Fitzgeralds were loaded. Baron had mentioned a housekeeper too. Maybe she was assuming too much about their family.

  “Then I’ll be your first. As per my contract, I do laundry, cook, clean, water the plants and take care of the yard. Raelynn and I have called this our home the last several months, and moving out now is not…convenient.”

  If her monologue impressed him, he didn’t show it. “What if I said I didn’t need these services?”

  “Then I’d say you are a fool.”

  “No one has ever considered me a fool.” He reached for the pancakes and took a pile, then offered her the plate.

  Amy placed the plate down without serving herself. Her stomach was churning with tension now.

  “Since I don’t pay you, you are not obliged to do anything for me for the few weeks I’ll be here,” he said. “I have done my own laundry since I was fourteen, so I can manage. I will do the yard work because that’s a man’s job. If you choose to include me in your meals, I will pay for the groceries. If you don’t want to cook for me, that’s fine too.” He paused before serving himself some eggs and frowned. “Egg whites?”

  He really thought he’d dictate what he wanted and close the subject? “Yes. They’re healthier.”

  A weird expression crossed his face.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He put the serving plate down. The amount of eggs he’d placed on his plate couldn’t satisfy a child. He took some hash browns.

  “You don’t like egg whites?” She didn’t bother to keep the disappointment in her voice.

  He appeared to weigh his words. “They are…bland. I prefer real eggs.”

  She couldn’t believe he just said that. “Egg whites come from eggs. Let me guess, you don’t think turkey bacon is bacon either.”