This Cruel Love

“Erm, hello.” I winced, feeling like a teenager caught out by her parents the morning after the night before.

“I’ve brewed a fresh pot of coffee and there’s pancakes and waffles in the kitchen. Fresh fruit too. I wasn’t sure what to get you for breakfast. Jackson said he had a guest staying, but I’m not used to catering for anyone else, only him.”

Her kind eyes went all fuzzy when she talked about him. I decided then and there that she must have a soft spot for all things occult. How else could I explain her warm, fuzzy glow when she looked towards the closed kitchen door, thinking about the owner within?

“That’s kind of you, but you don’t have to go to any trouble on my account. I’ll eat anything.”

She rubbed my arm as if she were soothing me. Why? I had no idea. Then she turned on her heels and went off down the corridor, humming some classical tune as she went.

I braced myself, taking a deep breath in, and then I headed into the kitchen.

“And so she appears. I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I was.”

I stood, still clutching the door, not trusting my feet to make the short walk over to the island in the middle. It was a shame really, because there was a feast of fruits, yoghurts, French pastries, waffles, and pancakes piled up in the middle. It looked amazing, better than a hotel breakfast spread, and I loved those.

Jackson stood, leaning up against the marble work surface, sipping his coffee, all poised and ready to attack. He was dressed in his usual uniform; black tailored suit, white shirt, dark grey tie. He looked ever the gentleman and totally the sinner that he was. He was smirking at my discomfort, no doubt revelling in the fact that I was uneasy. I wanted to pick up the nearest croissant and throw it at his head. Why did he have to have such a massive hold over mine and Justin’s happiness? I hated him, and I never hated anyone.

“I just met your housekeeper, or is she another one of your whores?”

I felt bad as soon as it came out of my mouth. I didn’t think for a second that the gentle, lovely lady I’d just met was anything other than an employee to him. But my brain didn’t work on the same time-zone as my mouth when I was around Jackson Caine.

His face screwed up with disgust as he pushed away from the counter.

“Don’t ever disrespect Sylvie in my presence again.”

He strode over to where I stood and glared down at me. I wilted under his scornful demeanour, but stood my ground as best I could.

“She is a lady and a very respectable housekeeper who’s worked for me for nearly a decade. She’s been married to the same man for forty-two years. I doubt you and your druggie boyfriend will make forty-two weeks.”

The vitriol he was unleashing should’ve made me turn and run, but I wasn’t a quitter.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it. She seems… nice.”

He appeared taken aback by my apology and moved a step backwards.

“She is.”

He spun round and stalked over to the sink, pouring the rest of his coffee down the drain as he spoke.

“Eat. Sylvie wanted to make you feel at home so she brought all this for you. God knows why.”

I huffed at his final little dig at me.

“Well, she’s nice, isn’t she? Not like some people I could mention. She must be the yin to your yang.”

He smirked that stupid, handsome, devil smirk that made me want to punch something, and pushed past me into the living room.

“Your sparkling wit and humour will be required tonight, Ryley.”

Why did he always have to say my name like it was a dirty thing?

“Great, can’t wait,” I replied in a sarcastic tone as I rolled my eyes at him.

“You can keep the eye rolling to a minimum too.”

How had he seen that? Was there a mirror in front of him? I rolled my eyes again anyway.