One Lucky Vampire

Four

Nicole groaned when the alarm went off and rolled over to slap at it unhappily until it shut off. Her eyes then drifted closed on a little sigh, only to pop open again as she recalled that she’d set it for a reason. What had that been? Oh, right, she’d promised to see Marguerite off, Nicole recalled, snuggling sleepily into her pillow and wondering if it was really necessary.

Painting had gone amazingly well last night and she’d worked until nearly 7 A.M. Nicole hadn’t realized that would happen when she’d made that promise last night. Maybe she could just go back to sleep.

The woman was her aunt’s boss, Nicole reminded herself and considered that fact, but really, just because she was Aunt Maria’s boss didn’t mean Nicole had to get up to see her off, did it?

On the other hand, her mind argued, Marguerite was also kind of her boss too. At least she was a client. Although, surely the lady would be glad to know Nicole had worked so hard and would want her to get her sleep so that she could work that hard again tonight, right?

Except that she was also a really nice woman, who had always been kind to Nicole and who had even gone to all the trouble of finding her a hunky cook/housekeeper when Nicole mentioned she needed one.

Her eyes popped open again at that point and Nicole was suddenly rolling out of bed. Though, truth be told it was the thought of her hunky cook/housekeeper that had her suddenly wide awake and eager to head out to the kitchen rather than any sense of responsibility for seeing off her houseguest, which she should be ashamed of and would be . . . later, Nicole promised herself. Marguerite was a lovely woman, and Nicole had been raised to always be kind and polite. Seeing the woman off was what a good hostess would do, and Nicole would feel guilty for even hesitating over the matter. Later . . . when she’d had more sleep. For now, she wanted a shower, some coffee, and to see if her housekeeper was still here.

Her shower was a fast one. Nicole followed it up with brushing her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail, and then sitting down at her makeup table to put on some face powder and blush. That was something she rarely did first thing in the morning. She usually had her coffee before doing anything the least little bit ambitious. Nicole was not a morning person.

She headed into her walk-in closet next, stopping short at the door as she recalled the glass on the floor and the painful efforts Marguerite had made to get the glass out of her foot last night. However, one glance showed that the glass was gone.

Nicole stared at the spot for one perplexed moment, slow to conclude that someone had gone to the trouble of cleaning it up last night while she was painting. The fact that it took any time at all for her to realize that was pretty pitiful considering that was the only explanation, but then she really wasn’t at her best in the morning . . . especially after only four hours of sleep.

Sighing at how distressingly slow her brain was in the mornings, Nicole pulled out jeans and a T-shirt and began to struggle into them as she considered who might have done the job. There were only two options: Marguerite and Jake. She couldn’t imagine Marguerite doing it after bringing home a cook/housekeeper for her. On the other hand, Jake shouldn’t have started work until this morning. But one of them must have taken care of it.

Nicole had her clothes on and was heading out of the closet before she realized that she’d forgotten to don panties and a bra. She swung back toward the closet, grimacing at what a pain it was going to be to tug the jeans off, and just as quickly swung away, only to swing back. She might be able to do without panties, but going braless was not an option. She was full figured everywhere.

Muttering under her breath, she moved to her underwear drawer, dragged out a bra, pulled off her T-shirt and quickly donned the torturous contraption that squeezed her breasts in and up. At least it seemed torturous this morning, but then she was exhausted and so not a morning person, something that kept ringing through her head. To her mind, vampires had the right idea. The world was quiet at night. No one called at 2 A.M., or dropped in for coffee and a chat then. She could and did work undisturbed during the wee hours. It was bliss.

Once she had the bra on, and had replaced the T-shirt, Nicole made her way out of her room. She was crossing the combined living room/dining room, headed for the kitchen, when the upstairs guest bedroom door opened. Her head swung toward it, a smile of greeting claiming her lips for Marguerite. But it faded, replaced by surprise when she saw Jake coming out of the room.

“Morning,” he said before ducking into the washroom.

“Morning,” Nicole murmured, but doubted he’d heard it. He was already closing the bathroom door. Frowning slightly now, she continued on into the kitchen, eyes widening in surprise when she saw Marguerite seated at the island, perusing the paper. The woman beamed a smile when she spotted Nicole.

“Oh, good morning, dear,” Marguerite greeted. “You’re just in time, Jake made coffee and a lovely brunch for us. It’s in the oven staying warm, but he’ll be back in a minute and probably serve it right up. He just ducked into his room to change his shirt. I bumped into him as he was whipping the eggs and some of it slopped on him.”

“His room?” Nicole said uncertainly. “He was coming out of your room when I—”

“Oh,” Marguerite waved that away with a laugh. “I moved my things downstairs and told him to take the upper guest room. It seemed sensible for him to be on this floor since this is where he’ll be doing most of his work, and it would have been silly to make him sleep downstairs last night and then have to move all of his things upstairs today.”

“Oh, of course,” Nicole said slowly and turned to find a cup and pour herself a coffee. She was in desperate need of one now as she considered that the man had slept a wall away last night . . . close enough to hear her snore. Well, if she did snore. Or what if she talked or mumbled in her sleep? Or tossed and turned a lot? How much could he hear through the wall?

“I hope you like omelets.”

Nicole gave a start at that question in a deep male voice. Jake had returned. She offered him a weak smile as he pulled on oven mitts and moved to the stove.

“I had to work with what was available, so I made toast, and an omelet with sausage, onion, potatoes and cheese in it. But if you don’t like eggs or something I can make you French toast, or pancakes or—”

“No, the omelet is fine,” Nicole interrupted, her mouth watering when he opened the oven door and a lovely scent rolled out on a wave of heat to tempt her nose. “It smells lovely.”

“Doesn’t it?” Marguerite agreed cheerfully. “I did tell you he was wonderful.”

“Yes, you did,” Nicole said faintly, following Jake to the kitchen table in the corner. Really she was following the two plates of omelet, not Jake; he just happened to be carrying them.

Her gaze slid over the table, noting the tablecloth, which she rarely bothered with, and the place mats with perfect place settings. Jake had even set out salt and pepper, ketchup, and A.1. sauce, and milk and sugar . . . which reminded her of the coffee she held in hand that still needed doctoring.

“Sit,” Jake ordered and then added, “You too, Marguerite. Dig in before it gets cold and I’ll grab mine and the toast.”

Nicole sat at the table and quickly added cream and sugar to her coffee, but her gaze was on the omelet. She was not good at making omelets. Hers always came out as messy scrambled eggs, but these looked perfect. Light, fluffy, and oozing with yummy stuff. She actually found herself swallowing repeatedly as saliva built up in her mouth and was glad to be done with the coffee business so that she could try the omelet.

Fortunately, Jake returned to the table just as she set her coffee aside to take up her fork and knife. Nicole had been raised that it was only polite not to eat until the cook had finished and joined the table. The cook being her mom when she was taught this notwithstanding, Nicole would have felt terribly guilty for digging in before Jake was seated. But she would have done it. Now it wasn’t an issue.

“Mmmm,” Nicole murmured, once she’d popped the first bite into her mouth. It really was good. If the man made omelets for her every morning she’d be happy to get up to eat them, morning person or not. And if all of his cooking was this good, the man deserved a raise, she thought, which reminded her that they hadn’t discussed his wages yet. Or anything. She supposed they’d have to sit down and hammer things out after Marguerite left. What pay he expected, what his job description included, and what he expected from her too, because, seriously, he was already looking too good to be true. Nicole didn’t want the trial two-week period to end with her wanting him and his culinary skills to stay, and him unhappy with her as a boss and wanting to leave.

“I realized last night after I went to bed that I forgot to tell you what arrangement I’d come to with Jake for you,” Marguerite said suddenly.

Nicole swallowed and lifted her head, curious to hear this.

“Jake has agreed to the standard rate for the two-week trial,” Marguerite announced.

Nicole tilted her head. She had no clue what that meant. Was there a standard rate for cook/housekeepers? She’d have thought it varied with different employers and their expectations.

“We also worked out what tasks he’s willing to take on. But you can worry about that after we eat. I wrote it all up and left it on the dresser in my room. You can look it over and talk to Jake about it later,” Marguerite added.

“Oh. Okay.” Nicole nodded and began to eat again, but her mind was now on the paper in Marguerite’s room and she was curious to read it. She was also curious about the glass in her walk-in closet, and said, “Thank you for cleaning up the glass in my walk-in closet. It was a nice surprise.”

She had no idea who she was thanking, so Nicole addressed the comment to her omelet as she cut the next piece.

“You’re welcome,” Jake answered.

Relaxing, Nicole smiled at him. “I really appreciate it. Especially since you didn’t officially start until today.”

Jake shrugged. “It was no trouble.”

They all fell silent, their attention on their food after that, until Marguerite suddenly popped up off her chair. “My ride’s here.”

“Oh.” Nicole glanced out the window to see a town car pulling into the driveway and stood up. “What about the rental car you had yesterday?”

“I dropped it off last night before returning with Jake,” Marguerite said breezily as she headed out of the room. “He followed me and brought me back here. It just seemed easier than fussing today.”

“Well, you didn’t have to do that. Jake or I could have driven you to the airport today,” Nicole said, scraping up her last bite of omelet and popping it in her mouth before chasing after Marguerite with Jake on her heels.

“Don’t be silly. I knew you’d both be working today.” Marguerite collected her purse off the dining-room table on her way to the stairs. “This is easier all the way around.”

Still chewing and swallowing, Nicole merely grunted as she followed her downstairs. She pulled up short though when they reached the entry and Marguerite suddenly paused and turned back. In the next moment, Nicole was enveloped in expensive perfume that smelled really, really good as Marguerite hugged her.

“Thank you, Nicole. You are a dear. I’ve always thought so. You and Pierina are both sweeties. I appreciate your putting me up last night so I didn’t have to fly right back. And thank you for setting right to work on the portrait, but I really wish you’d give yourself a break. We don’t mind waiting and I worry about you.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Nicole said, hugging her back. “Once I get these three portraits finished I can slow down a little. Besides, with Jake here, life should be much easier. Thank you, for that,” she added, giving her an extra squeeze. “I was worried about having a stranger in my home. This way, with Jake being family to you, I feel much better.”

“Jake is a wonder. He’ll take care of everything. It will all work out,” Marguerite assured her and Nicole nodded, though she got the feeling Marguerite was referring to more than just her kitchen and home. There was no time to question her on it though, because the doorbell rang then and Marguerite released her.

Leaving Marguerite to say good-bye to Jake, Nicole stepped around her to open the door and smiled in greeting at the suited man waiting patiently on the step.

“Hello,” he said politely, his gaze sliding past her to Marguerite and then moving to the suitcase next to the door. “Is that going?”

“Oh, yes,” Nicole said recognizing Marguerite’s small case on wheels. The woman must have set it by the door before coming upstairs, she realized and grabbed it. But she’d barely slid it a foot closer to the door before the driver stepped in and took it.

“I’ll take care of that,” he assured her politely. “Is this it?”

“Just that and me,” Marguerite said brightly as she stepped away from Jake to move up next to Nicole.

“Very good.” The driver smiled at Marguerite and then turned to lead her to the car. He opened the back door and handed her in and then closed it before carrying the case around to set it in the trunk. Nicole was barefoot, so stayed in the doorway and waved when Marguerite finished buckling her seat belt and looked her way. She was aware when Jake stepped up behind her and thought he was probably waving too.

They watched silently as the driver got in and closed the door, but once the vehicle began to head up the driveway, Nicole asked, “How old is Marguerite?”

She was pretty sure Jake stilled behind her. He probably peered down at the top of her head too, but she didn’t look around to see. Finally, he said, “What do you mean?”

The question brought a small breathless laugh to her lips and she offered him a crooked smile over her shoulder. “It’s kind of a simple question. How old is she?” She tilted her head and added, “She can’t be more than thirty or so, though she doesn’t look that old even, but I’ve known her for ten years. She was married to Jean Claude back when I first went with Aunt Maria to help with spring cleaning, so she must have been at least twenty then, which means she has to be in her early thirties now . . . But I swear the woman acts like she’s at least twice that in age. She mothers both Pierina and me.” Nicole gave an embarrassed laugh and admitted, “I swear, she makes me feel about ten years old every time I’m around her . . . So . . . is she older than she looks? Or just mothering by nature or something?”

“Mothering by nature,” he answered, happy to avoid the original question. “She mothers everyone and was probably doing so even as a little girl.”

“Yeah, I can just picture her as a five-year-old, fussing over every child and adult in the vicinity,” Nicole admitted wryly, and then asked again, “So how old is she?”

When he didn’t answer right away, she raised her eyebrows in question, and he murmured, “Let’s close the door.”

Nicole nodded and moved out of the way as he began to do just that. She watched him lock it, and then turned to lead the way back upstairs to where her coffee waited.

Jake stayed silent as he followed Nicole back upstairs, but his mind was working in overdrive as he tried to figure out what to say in answer to her question . . . and then it came to him.

“She isn’t in her thirties,” Jake announced as they reached the kitchen.

“What?” Nicole asked with amazement as he moved to pour himself another coffee. “She has to be. She—”

“She was thirteen when she married Jean Claude.” Both statements were true. He just didn’t mention that the marriage took place back in the thirteenth century, and that she was actually seven hundred and something rather than the thirtysomething Nicole had supposed.

“Thirteen?” She sounded as horrified as he would expect as she asked, “Is that even legal?”

Jake shrugged and carried his coffee to the table as he offered, “The Europeans don’t have the same laws we do.”

“Yeah, but—holy crap, Jean Claude was worse than I thought,” she muttered with disgust as she followed him.

“What do you mean?” he asked curiously.

“Well, you know, he was such a jerk to her,” she said on a sigh. “I mean I only saw him maybe a half dozen times over the years before he died, but I remember he would come in and be perfectly awful to her, snapping and growling and ordering her around like she was a dog or something. Even as a teenager I thought, man, she’s too pretty and nice to put up with that from anyone.”

Jake turned back to his coffee, doctoring it with cream and sugar as he considered what she’d said. He hadn’t known that Jean Claude was unkind to Marguerite. The truth was Jake didn’t know Marguerite that well, and he hadn’t known her when she was married to Jean Claude. He’d heard stories, of course. His boss, Vincent, had been an Argeneau, after all, and was her nephew, which meant there had been talk about his family. But Jake hadn’t really got to know Marguerite until the attempt on his life that had resulted in his being turned.

Marguerite had talked to him several times after he’d woken from the turn. That was before he’d run away. And Nicole was right, she was a very nice woman, one who shouldn’t have to put up with the kind of behavior Nicole was describing. But then Nicole shouldn’t have had to put up with the abuse Rodolfo had dished out either, so all he said was, “I’ve found in life that the nicest people somehow seem to end up with the most unkind partners. I’ve never understood that myself. You’d think like would attract like, but it definitely seems like opposites attract when it comes to a lot of couples.”

“Yeah,” Nicole murmured, her mouth twisting. “I’d agree with that.”

“What was your husband like?” Jake asked, taking her empty cup and walking over to pour her a fresh one.

“A jerk,” she said, and then smiled wryly as she added, “But then I’m somewhat biased. I’m sure a lot of people think he’s great. Certainly, he’s the sort who’d give the shirt off his back to friends and acquaintances.”

“Just not his wife?” he suggested, pouring coffee into her cup and then carrying it back to the table.

“Me, he wouldn’t even have given the time of day,” she assured him dryly and doctored her coffee with sugar and cream, before adding, “I suspect he married the artist, and was disappointed when he found himself shackled to the woman.”

Jake raised his eyebrows. “Aren’t they one and the same person?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” she asked with amusement. Nicole sipped her coffee, swallowed, and then said quietly, “It turns out Rodolfo was all about the surface and appearances. At first he liked going around bragging about marrying a world-renowned artist. That was cool. Unfortunately, actually living with me was less so.” She peered into her coffee and said, “I think he had poor self-esteem, that maybe he thought marrying me would boost it . . . and was terribly disappointed when it didn’t.” Sighing, she met his gaze and added, “And I suspect he thought that being married to me would mean a life that was one long round of cocktail parties and glad-handing with celebrity clients. Instead, it was day-to-day drudgery, a lot of time spent with him twiddling his thumbs and bored while I worked hard, or his standing by listening to my side of phone calls with those celebrities he longed to connect with, or his having to listen to me being complimented and praised by people who thought of him as ‘the husband’ who didn’t work rather than the charming, dashing fellow who bagged the artist.” She breathed out wearily, and shook her head. “But he wouldn’t talk about it, so I’m just guessing and with that and ten cents, you still have ten cents.”

Jake eyed Nicole silently. She had definitely analyzed her husband and the situation thoroughly. He also suspected she was being kind in her assessment of Rodolfo. The guy had more problems than low self-esteem if he was now trying to kill her for her money. “How long were you married?”

“Two years. I met him at twenty-one, married him at twenty-three, left him at twenty-five and now, a year later . . .” She shrugged.

“The divorce is nearly final,” he finished for her.

Nicole nodded and leaned back against the counter with her coffee. “My career was just taking off when we met. I’d just graduated and had my first art show, which was a rousing success . . . thanks to Marguerite.”

His eyebrows rose. “Marguerite?”

Nicole smiled. “Yeah. My cousin, Pierina, and I used to help out Aunt Maria at Marguerite’s several times a year. I was really into art and during breaks, would usually end up sketching while Pierina and I chatted. Marguerite saw and is the first one who encouraged me to pursue art. Well, the first one to encourage me who wasn’t family,” she added with a small smile. “But family have to encourage and support you so her compliments carried a little more weight,” she explained.

When he nodded in understanding, she continued, “Anyway, Marguerite encouraged me and then kept tabs on me. I did a painting of Julius my last year of high school and gave it to her as a sort of thank-you.”

“Her husband, Julius Notte?” Jake asked with surprise. Julius and Marguerite had only reunited and married a few years ago. As far as he knew, Julius hadn’t been around when Nicole was a teenager.

“No, her dog, Julius,” Nicole said with a laugh. “Weird, huh? That she had a dog named Julius before she ever met her husband Julius?”

Jake didn’t comment. Marguerite had caught him up on a lot on their drive here and he knew that while Julius, the man, had only reappeared on the scene recently, he’d been in Marguerite’s life long before she’d named her first dog Julius. However, he didn’t say that.

“Anyway,” Nicole continued, “After I gave her the painting, she asked me to paint a portrait of her daughter, Lissianna, and then one of herself and then her sons: Etienne, Bastien, and Lucern. And when I had my first art show she insisted on making all the arrangements and invited some pretty big names in the art world as well as a lot of people with heavy pockets. The next thing I knew I had commissions coming out of my ears.” She smiled faintly in memory and then her smile faded. “That’s when I met Rodolfo.”

Jake imagined it must have seemed to Nicole like the universe was smiling on her at that point. Her career was taking off and then she met and fell in love with an exotic, foreign man who appeared to love her back. The world had been her oyster, or would have seemed to be. And if she’d met Rodolfo just as her career was taking off, she wouldn’t have had the money she had now. There would have been no reason to think he’d someday try to rob her blind in a divorce . . . and when that failed, try to kill her.

“Speaking of commissions, I guess I should get to work,” Nicole said suddenly, looking uncomfortable, and he suspected she was embarrassed by how much she’d revealed.

“And I should get to work as well,” he said calmly, but when she then headed for the door, he said, “Marguerite mentioned that you were interested in getting a security system for the house. I happen to have a friend who’s the best in the business. I can give him a call to come out for a look-see.”

Jake wasn’t surprised when Nicole grimaced. He knew Marguerite had suggested she needed security and Nicole had most likely reluctantly agreed just to stop the lecturing. But after heaving a sigh, she nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Jake murmured and watched her leave the kitchen, his gaze dropping to her behind and staying there until she was out of sight. Then he realized what he’d done and gave his head a shake. Jake had dated a lot of women both as a mortal and as an immortal, but he never mixed business with pleasure. It was dangerous to get distracted in his line of work, and Nicole would definitely be a distraction. Hell, she was already a distraction. He’d meant to read her after Marguerite left but had forgotten that intention as soon as she’d begun to talk. No, it was better to keep his mind on business and avoid the temptation of Ms. Nicole Phillips’s physical attributes . . . but damn, she had a nice round rump and there was nothing he liked better than that.

Grimacing at his own stray thoughts, Jake reached for his cell phone as it began to ring. His eyebrows rose when he saw the call was from Cody, the security guy he’d mentioned. His friend really was the best in the business, and as such, was always busy. He’d talked to his secretary rather than the man himself that morning. She’d said he’d be in at noon and Jake had said he’d call back then. It looked like Cody had decided not to wait. He was expecting the man to tell him he was so busy he couldn’t come out for at least a week, but Jake planned to use bribery and calling in favors to get him out earlier than that.

Nicole eyed the covered paintings at the end of her studio, briefly debating whether she really wanted the rest of her coffee and to work, or whether she shouldn’t dump the rest of it and go back to bed to sleep for another couple of hours. Nicole was tired and she was never at her best when she was tired. It made her work slow and uninspired, and she often just ended up painting over it again later after she’d rested, which was rather a waste of time. Sleeping for another hour or two or four and then waking up refreshed and excited to paint seemed more sensible. But she didn’t want to go to bed. Jake might think she was a slugabed like her ex had always claimed.

The thought of her new cook/housekeeper made Nicole recall the list of Jake’s duties that Marguerite had said she’d left on the dresser in her room. Turning away from the paintings, she headed back out through the office and up the hall, intent on fetching the list. She could hear the murmur of Jake’s voice as she stepped out into the lower living room and supposed he was making that call to his security buddy. The thought made her sigh, and then she wrinkled her nose at herself.

Nicole had no idea why she was so resistant to getting a security system. She’d actually looked into getting one herself when she’d first moved here with Rodolfo, but then she’d left him instead. When she’d moved back there had been so much to do, and then there had been the problems with the gas grill and furnace and people had begun suggesting her ex was trying to kill her and she should have a security system because of that, and suddenly Nicole had resisted the whole idea.

She would admit Rodolfo hadn’t treated her well, and yes he’d tried to go after as much of her money as he could in the divorce, including commissions she’d contracted for before meeting him and a percentage of any commissions she did in the future, which was just ridiculous. But to suggest he was trying to kill her . . .

Shrugging her irritation away, Nicole stepped into the guest room, grabbed the list of tasks Marguerite had left for her and returned to her studio. It looked like an awfully long list. Nicole waited until she was in her studio, cuddled up under the fluffy duvet she kept on the daybed that served double duty as a couch in the corner of the room, before beginning to actually read it . . . and fell asleep doing so.

Nicole shifted sleepily some time later, turning onto her side and tugging down the duvet she’d burrowed under. The action freed her eyes and nose, so when she then blinked her eyes open she had an unobstructed view of the eight-foot-tall silhouetted figure just feet away in her studio and blocking the light from the window.

The shriek that ripped from her throat was high and terrified. The figure reacted to the sound by wobbling and then tumbling off whatever he stood on. Nicole sat up abruptly and stared down at the man now lying on her studio floor.

With the window no longer blocked and light pouring in, she could see the stepladder he’d fallen off of and that he had a screwdriver in his hand. She stared at him with confusion as he sat up and then frowned slightly. The ladder and screwdriver didn’t suggest a break-in and he wore a blue shirt with C.C. SECURITY on the pocket. Her gaze shifted to the window and she saw a half-installed small white boxy-looking thing on the edge of the window.

“Man, you scared the crap out of me,” the man admitted, turning over and sitting up.

Nicole relaxed as she took in his gangly figure, red hair, and freckled face. Between that and his open air of chagrin, he wasn’t the least bit threatening and he was obviously the security guy Jake had mentioned coming for a look-see. Apparently a look-see had turned into an install, she thought with irritation.

“Are you okay?” she asked, pushing aside her irritation in favor of worry for the man who had taken a tumble. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine. I was only two steps up. I was more startled than anything,” he assured her and then they both glanced to the door when it burst open and Jake charged in.

He paused abruptly as he took in the scene, and then turned his concerned gaze to Nicole. “Are you okay?”

When she nodded and began to push her duvet aside, he turned his attention to the man still on her floor and moved forward to offer him a hand up, asking, “What the hell are you doing in here, Cody? I told you not to bother her while she’s working.”

“I know, but when I was doing the office I looked in and the studio seemed empty, so I thought I’d quickly do it while she was out. She must have been buried under the duvet,” he added with chagrin.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night. I decided to catch a nap before starting to work,” she explained to Jake, feeling guilty that she’d been lazy.

But he just nodded and said, “Good. I was surprised you didn’t go back to bed again after Marguerite left. You were working until dawn.”

Nicole relaxed a little and stood up, unaccountably relieved that he was being so understanding rather than glaring at her with disapproval as Rodolfo would have done. “I think I’ll make some coffee.”

“I set up the pot earlier. You just have to turn it on,” Jake said, and then led the way out to the office to do it for her, before adding, “I also made a fruit-and-cheese tray in case you wanted a snack. It’s in the fridge.”

Nicole moved to the small bar fridge beside the coffee counter and opened it to find a large plate with cheese, crackers, grapes, and a sliced-up apple on it.

“Wow,” she murmured, taking it out and peering at it with surprise. Then she smiled at him. “I think I’m going to like having a cook/housekeeper.”

Jake smiled crookedly back, and then peered past her, his eyebrows rising. “How much more do you have to do in there, Cody?”

Nicole noted that the man with C.C. SECURITY on his shirt had followed them to the door and was now eyeing the coffeepot with interest. At Jake’s question, he forced his eyes away from the dark liquid and answered, “I just have to finish the one window and then do the sliding glass doors. I’ve already done the keyed door and the other two windows. I’ll be done before the coffee is.”

When Jake nodded, the man moved back into the room and out of sight.

Nicole raised her eyebrows in question and Jake explained, “He happened to have a cancellation this afternoon. When he got here and took a look around, the quote was so good I told him to go ahead.”

“Oh.” Nicole frowned, but merely nodded. Despite her resistance to the idea, she would have got a security system eventually if only to stop everyone else from bugging her about it. That or a big dog. She’d been leaning toward the big dog the last little while. It was lonely rattling around in this big house by herself, and a bit nerve wracking. She’d found herself jumping at the littlest thing. Actually, the last couple of days were the first time she hadn’t felt edgy in the house and that was because she’d had Marguerite and now Jake here. She supposed he’d worked as well as a big dog in making her feel comfortable in her own house.

“I better get back upstairs,” Jake said suddenly. “I was making peppercorn sauce when I heard you scream. I took it off the stove before I came down, but it might curdle.”

“Right,” Nicole nodded, her mind now on peppercorn sauce. It sounded hot. She wasn’t much into hot, but she kept that to herself and turned to her office with her cheese-and-fruit plate. She was wondering now, though, what time it was if he was starting dinner already.

A glance at the clock as Nicole entered her studio told her it was only two in the afternoon. She’d slept an hour and a half. Put that with the four hours from earlier, and it was five and a half. Six would have been better, but five and a half would do. Her gaze slid to Cody now as he stepped off the stepladder and carried it over to the sliding glass doors. She looked at the window now, noting the little white box, and frowned. There were three windows on the back wall of her studio; one large center window and two narrower ones on either side. The center window was the only one that opened though, but there were now boxes on all of them.

“The side windows don’t open,” she began. “Why—”

“They have glass break detectors,” Cody explained. “The center one is fitted with a sensor for breaking glass and opening and closing.”

“Oh.” Nicole peered at the windows again. She hadn’t realized they had sensors for glass breaking. It was clever though, she supposed. Her gaze slid back to Cody and she held out the plate of cheese and fruit. “Cheese?”

Cody grinned and moved forward to take a slice of apple, cheese and a cracker. “Thanks.”

Nicole nodded and took a slice of apple herself, then set the plate on a table by her easels. “The coffee should be ready in a minute. Do you want one?”

“Oh, yes please. That would be great,” he said, and then popped the fruit, cheese, and cracker in his mouth all at once and headed back to the sliding glass doors.

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to get any work done until he finished and left, Nicole settled on the daybed to eat her slice of apple.

“This is a beautiful house,” he commented as he began to attach another white box and a magnet sensor on that door.

“Thank you,” Nicole murmured, her gaze skimming around her studio. She agreed, she loved this house, and had from the start.

“So your husband must make a load to afford it. What does he do?”

She stiffened briefly with surprise, and then said, “I’m not married. Or won’t be in two weeks,” Nicole added reluctantly, because technically she was still married. Though, frankly she’d never really felt married. She’d always thought of marriage as a merging of a couple, not just their assets, but their lives, their dreams, their futures. She and Rodolfo hadn’t merged anything.

“Ah. I see. Divorcing,” Cody said and nodded. “So you got the house in the divorce settlement?”

Nicole stiffened. What was it with people thinking the man was the breadwinner all the time? As if the woman couldn’t make it herself. “No. The house is mine. I bought it . . . twice,” she added dryly. “Or one and a half times. I paid for it when we moved back to Canada, and then I got to buy my soon-to-be ex out of it as part of the divorce because it was considered a marital asset.”

Cody raised his eyebrows with surprise. “You bought it?”

“Women can make money too, you know,” she said dryly and he flushed guiltily.

“Sorry,” he muttered, but his gaze slid to the three covered canvases in the room. “An artist?”

Nicole nodded. She always covered her paintings between sessions. It prevented her looking at them and picking out all the flaws when she wasn’t working on them. She was her own worst critic. Turning her gaze back to Cody, she commented, “You seem to know Jake well.”

“Oh, yeah. Met him on the job when he first moved out here to Ottawa,” Cody said easily. “Being in the same business, we got along well. Went out for a drink after work.” He shrugged. “A friendship was born.”

“The same business?” Nicole asked with surprise. “You’re in security and he’s a cook/housekeeper. I wouldn’t think that was really the same business.”

Cody stilled briefly, but then continued working and said lightly, “House security, housekeeping, it’s all about the house.”

Nicole eyed him briefly, but his back was to her as he worked and she couldn’t see his expression. She stood up. “The coffee should be done. How do you take yours?”

“Just regular, please,” Cody said, his gaze now extremely curious as he looked again to the covered canvases on their easels.

She deliberately took her time making the coffees, wanting to avoid any more questions. In the end, she timed it perfectly. Cody was folding up his ladder when she re-entered her studio.

“All done in here,” he said cheerfully, crossing the room with the ladder under one arm.

Nicole merely smiled and held out his coffee as he approached.

“Thanks,” he said, taking it with his free hand and continuing on out of the room, saying, “I’ll let you get back to work now. Sorry for scaring you.”

“No problem,” Nicole said quietly and followed to close the French doors of the studio behind him as he left. She turned back to the room then with a little sigh. She was still tired and now a little out of sorts as well. Not the best mental state to work in. It was times like this she wished she had a more normal job. She didn’t imagine your state of mind affected your work much if you were an accountant or something. One plus one still equaled two no matter your mood. Sadly, it wasn’t the same with painting, or probably any of the more artistic jobs like music or writing where your mood could make you more critical. Still, she walked over and removed the covers from the canvases one after another and then stood back to survey what she’d done so far.

Nicole knew at once that this was not going to be a very productive day. Every flaw, real or imagined, immediately jumped out at her. She’d used too much red here, not enough shadow there. Was the actress’s nose a touch too big? And the sketch of Christian and his fiancée was all wrong; too stiff, not reflecting the love that seemed to shine from every photo of the couple.

Grimacing, she tossed the covers back over each of the canvases and took her coffee and the cheese plate to the daybed, where she sat down with a depressed sigh. Nicole hated when her work was disrupted. Last night things had really been hopping. She’d been painting quickly and happily, satisfied with what she was doing and how the portraits were working out. Today they all looked like crap to her . . . bleck.

It looked like it was going to be a “to do” day. Those were days she did banking, shopping, and any other chore that she’d neglected while working. Usually there were a lot of tasks to do, cleaning, cooking, shopping, banking, bill paying. Now that she had Jake she could take cooking and cleaning off her list, but that still left some chores.

She had to hit the bank and transfer money from her savings to checking to cover monthly bills that would come out today. She should have done it online yesterday, but now it was too late. It took twenty-four hours for online transfers to go through. Nicole supposed she should find out how much the security system was going to cost and transfer enough to cover that as well. And then she guessed she’d have to go grocery shopping. Jake had mentioned something about only being able to work with what he had, so she supposed she should get him whatever he needed. And she wanted to pick up mousetraps as well. There were always one or two brave mice who tried to move indoors when the cold hit, and while she hadn’t seen any yet, she had no doubt there were one or two around. Maybe she could get those sonic things that were supposed to scare them off rather than buy actual mousetraps. Nicole wasn’t big on killing things and mice were such cute little fuzzy things. Besides, ever since seeing Ratatouille she’d had an aversion to killing the poor little buggers. Although Ratatouille had been about a rat, as she recalled. It didn’t matter, mice were just smaller rats.

Aware that it was after two and that the bank closed at four or shortly thereafter, Nicole took her coffee with her and headed upstairs to find Jake, passing Cody and several other men installing little white boxes in windows in the living room. She murmured hello in passing, but her mind was on the shopping expedition ahead as she thought that it would be helpful if Jake made a list of what he needed for her to pick up while she was out. She suspected he’d need time to plan his menu to know what he needed, and hoped that wouldn’t take too long.

The scent that hit Nicole as she mounted the stairs was amazing. Something yummy was cooking and the air was rich with the aroma of garlic and other spices.

“Something smells delicious,” she commented as she entered the kitchen.

Jake glanced around with a start, and then tossed the dish towel he’d been drying his hands with over a book on the counter. It looked like a cookbook and like he was trying to hide it? She had no idea why. She didn’t expect him to know how to cook everything without a recipe, but he seemed determined to hide it, so she acted like she didn’t see it.

“I have to go into town and do some banking and whatnot, so maybe you could find out how much the security system is going to cost so I can make sure I have the money in the account,” Nicole suggested, and then added, “I thought I’d hit the grocery store on the way back too, so do you want to make a list of what I should pick up while I’m out?”

“Oh.” Jake frowned, but then turned his attention to the door as Cody came in.

“All done,” the other man announced. “The boys are just collecting their equipment and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Perfect timing,” Jake said quietly, but she got the sense that he was relieved at this news.

“I need you both to come put in your personal codes,” he announced.

“Personal code?” Nicole asked, following when he turned to lead them out of the kitchen. She trailed him to the master bedroom, where a security panel was now installed beside the sliding glass doors.

“That way you know who comes and goes and when by which code is used,” he explained. “You need to put one in, and so does Jake. I can put in a third number for guests to use if you like.”

“Oh. I see,” she murmured and peered at the digital screen briefly before asking, “How many numbers?”

“Four. But you want to make it something that isn’t your birthday or anything that someone else can easily guess,” he warned.

Nicole nodded, thought briefly, and then quickly punched in four digits while Cody and Jake averted their eyes. Stepping back, she said, “Done.”

“Great.” Cody worked at the panel briefly, and then stepped away. “Your turn Jake.”

“You can watch if you like,” Jake said when Nicole started to follow suit and turn away. “It’s your system. You should know my number in case you want to remove it later.”

Nicole paused and watched as he punched in his own four digits, repeating them in her head a couple of times so that she could remember long enough to write them down somewhere.

“And now . . .” Cody punched a bunch of buttons again and then stepped away for a third time. “The guest number?”

Nicole punched in another number and then stepped away while he finished the setup.

After a moment’s work, he stepped back and nodded. “There you are. All done.”

“How long have you guys been here?” she asked curiously as he closed the panel.

“My men and I got here at about a quarter after twelve,” Cody answered easily, and then added, “When I heard Jake called this morning I didn’t think we’d be able to get out here until later in the week. But we had a cancellation this afternoon so here we are.”

Nicole didn’t comment. They must have arrived just after she’d lain down, but she was more concerned with the fact that Jake had actually called before he’d mentioned it to her, yet he’d made it sound like he was asking for permission to call when he already had. Now she was a bit annoyed. Like with rekeying the locks, she would have liked being consulted before he actually called about the security system the first time.

Actually, she supposed, if the front door lock was broken, that had definitely needed immediate attention so she wasn’t annoyed about that too much, but this was a security system, not an emergency. She’d lived here two years without one. She really would have liked to be consulted about this before the first call. What if she’d said no to his calling when he’d brought it up? Cody had already been on the way out by that point. She’d have to talk to Jake about that, Nicole supposed.

Sighing at the thought of the unpleasant task ahead, she asked, “So is a check all right?”

“Yeah. Sure. My office gal will send you a bill and you can send a check in then. Don’t worry about it now,” Cody said as they started out of her room.

“Can you give me an idea of what it will be?” she asked. “I’m heading to the bank now and can transfer the money while there.”

Cody nodded and gave a price, adding, “Give or take. I’m not sure about taxes. And then there’s a monthly charge for monitoring.”

Nicole nodded but was surprised by the price. It seemed pretty reasonable. She’d expected it to cost more. In fact, she’d priced security systems when she’d first considered getting one, and the price he’d just given was at the low end of the quotes she’d received at the time. He’d definitely given her a break on the price and she supposed she had Jake to thank for that.

“All set?” Jake asked as they entered the kitchen.

“All set,” Cody assured him, offering a hand.

“Thank you,” Jake said solemnly as they shook hands.

“No problem. Happy to help,” Cody assured him, and then nodded at Nicole and said, “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Nicole said politely.

“I’ll see you out,” Jake said, following when Cody turned to leave.

The moment they were out of the room, Nicole headed for her room to get ready to go. She wanted to brush her hair, her teeth, maybe throw on some makeup and change her clothes for something warmer. Her jeans were all right, but it was cold out and something warmer than a T-shirt was called for. It wouldn’t be if she was the kind of person who did up her winter coat, but she tended to take it off in the car and then just tug it on and not bother to do it up just to run into a store.

Nicole didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep or what, but she couldn’t seem to settle on what to wear. She changed her top three times before settling on a deep purple light knit sweater. She also fussed over her hair, letting it out of the ponytail and using a straightener on it before feeling satisfied. Then she spent longer than normal on makeup, even putting on eye shadow, which she rarely did.

Grimacing when she saw that she’d fussed so long it was now after three, she grabbed her purse and hurried out of the room. Her footsteps slowed, however, when she spotted Jake leaning against the doorjamb between the kitchen and living room, jiggling keys.

“Ready?” he asked straightening.

“Yes,” she answered slowly, eyeing his keys. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I thought it would probably be easier if I came shopping with you,” he explained, and then added with an apologetic grimace, “I haven’t had time to make up a menu plan for the week yet, so I’m going to have to play it by ear. I’m hoping seeing the vegetables that are available this time of year will inspire me.”

“Oh.” Nicole hesitated, but then sighed and nodded. A moment ago this had been a mostly relaxing, if boring, excursion. No excitement, but no stress either. Now Nicole found herself tensing up as she headed for the stairs with Jake on her heels.

He was jiggling keys, did that mean he expected to drive? Would he have a specific grocery store he wanted to go to? What was he going to do while she was in the bank? Would she have to rush because he was waiting in the car, or—

Nicole stopped abruptly and turned back toward Jake, about to suggest he should go shopping on his own while she took care of the bank and such. But she just as quickly turned forward again as she realized she couldn’t expect him to pay for her groceries and she didn’t have any money on hand to give him. This would teach her to always have cash handy, Nicole thought grimly.

She was almost to the door to the garage when Nicole realized that she was reacting to the man just as she had to her husband, tensing up and letting him take control. Training, she thought grimly. But this wasn’t Rodolfo, this was an employee, and while she understood the need to take him shopping with her, Nicole would be damned if she was letting him drive. She had started out on this excursion alone. He was just along for the shopping. She was driving.

Opening the door to the garage, she walked determinedly to her red Lexus SUV and got straight into the driver’s seat. Only after she’d closed the door and slung her purse onto the backseat did she glance around to see how he was taking it. He wasn’t there. The door to the house was wide open, but he was nowhere in sight. She was just starting to frown, when he stepped into view wearing his winter coat and carrying hers.

“Oh, crap,” Nicole muttered and felt herself flush with embarrassment. Shaking her head, she opened the door and climbed back out to take it from him with a muttered “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he said easily, turning to lock the door while she donned it. “This is a heated garage, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Nicole answered as she pulled on the coat. That was why she hadn’t thought of the coat until she’d seen him holding it.

“They don’t allow that anymore, I don’t think,” he commented, checking that the door was locked before turning to face her as he slid his keys into his pocket.

“What? Heated garages?” she asked uncertainly.

Jake nodded. “I think they changed the code and don’t allow it anymore. Something about air exchange or something. Obviously it was built when it was allowed though.” He shrugged and opened the driver’s door, gesturing her in now that she had her coat on.

Nicole climbed back inside and murmured a thank-you as he closed the door. She then pulled on her seat belt and started the engine as he walked around to the passenger’s side. She glanced at him curiously as he got in and did up his own seat belt, but he didn’t seem the least bit upset that she was driving. In fact, she was getting the distinct impression that he’d only brought his keys to lock the door, as he’d done, and she’d been overreacting.

Shaking her head at herself, Nicole hit the button to open the garage door and then shifted gear and backed the vehicle out onto the icy driveway, hitting the button to close the door as soon as she’d cleared it. They were both silent at first, but once she was out of the driveway and onto the road, Nicole decided she should broach the subject that was bugging her. “Jake?”

“Hmm?” He glanced to her in question.

Nicole hesitated, but then said quietly, “While I appreciate your taking care of the front lock and the security system, I’d appreciate it more if in future you talked to me about things like that first, rather than just going ahead and doing them.”

Jake was silent for long enough that Nicole glanced curiously toward him. Her eyebrows rose when she found him staring at her intently, expression focused. She couldn’t tell if he was glaring at her, or trying to find Waldo on her face somewhere. Either way, she didn’t know how to take this response and arched one eyebrow. “Are you having a mini seizure or something?”

He blinked at the question, and confusion crossed his face, so she glanced toward the road again and explained, “I read somewhere that people can have petit mal seizures where they just stare and aren’t really conscious or aware . . . although,” she added, glancing toward him again. “You looked aware, just kind of fixated.”

“No,” Jake turned to peer out the window. But then he cleared his throat, and added, “But my apologies. I understood from Marguerite that you didn’t want to be bothered with details, but I will consult you in future.”

Nicole relaxed. It was so Marguerite, very sweet, but Nicole was too much of a control freak to allow anyone to take care of her that way. The control thing was a new development. She’d seemed to briefly lose control of everything in her life while married. Now that she had it back, she wasn’t letting it go for anyone . . . no matter how good-looking and how nice they smelled.

Damn, she thought as she took a deep breath and her senses were filled with a mixture of a woodsy cologne and what she suspected was just Jake. The man definitely smelled good. The thought made her frown. She had no business noticing that. He was an employee . . . and she was just getting divorced. It was too soon for her to get involved with anyone. Not that he had said or done anything to make her think he wanted to get involved. But she shouldn’t even think of him that way, she told herself firmly.