She lowered her head and shook it. He really was clueless. Deliberately, Rosabel rotated to face him once more. Confusion wrinkled his brow, and she almost pitied his lost expression. Almost. “What I want is time to think things over. This isn’t just a job you’re offering me, and after working with you in the past, I’m not sure accepting would be all that smart. So I’m going to think, and I’m going to make up my own list of demands. Goodbye, Duncan.”
Opening the front door, she ambled inside. Duncan shuffled forward, gripping the screen’s rotund handle. The glimpse of his rattled expression was the last satisfying sight she captured before closing the door on him.
Rosabel thought over her conversation with Duncan during a silent dinner with her drooping father while her teeth contemplated the texture of the steak she’d selected. She thought it over while helping to undress Dad and ready him for bed. She thought it over in the shower while steaming hot water streamed down her back.
After she wandered into an uneasy sleep on the living room recliner to keep a better watch on Dad, Duncan paraded in her dreams, popping up unwanted with flowers for her at every intersection on the road. He appeared so often she woke up irritated at him, and annoyed that, as Dad wasn’t walking the halls, she could have gotten some decent rest for once. Not a good sign.
She ignored his calls and texts all the next morning long, gratified at being able to hold this over him. And yet somehow, she’d ended up packed and wasn’t at all surprised when Sarah showed up on the doorstep with a bag and an explanation at having been generously paid to stay for the next two months, rotating with two other hospice nurses throughout that time period.
Rosabel was stunned. Two months? How could a grandma’s birthday party last that long? She’d been expecting a single weekend.
Well. She still hadn’t agreed. She had to get Duncan’s word on a few things.
Dad sat at the kitchen table, hands on his knees as he stared at his slippers. Rosabel parked her suitcase near the door before hugging her father, breathing in his scent of soap.
“I’ll be back, Daddy,” she promised, pushing away a twang of worry. He’ll be fine, she told herself. He’ll be getting the best care he’s ever had.
Dad’s distant, shrouded gaze swept the room before landing on her. “Henry. Where’s Henry?”
With a sad smile, she kissed his cheek, bade Sarah goodbye, and rolled her suitcase to her car. She’d handled Duncan’s ventures plenty of times. At least this time she didn’t have to plan the flight the way he’d had her do in the past. He’d even had her plan a honeymoon for his friend Maddox, and though Maddox had been gracious, and she’d claimed she hadn’t minded, the request had riled her.
She didn’t mind that Maddox needed help. She was always on the lookout for a way to do someone a good turn, and Rosabel happened to really like him. Maddox was a great person, always kind and courteous, and he hadn’t stopped expressing his gratitude for her help since. What bothered her was the way Duncan had handled it. He hadn’t asked her first; he’d referred to her like she belonged to him. Like she was something he could share. He’d made her feel cheap and dispensable.
No, a relationship with Duncan wouldn’t be possible, not unless he changed the very fabric of who he was. And no one could change that much.
5
Duncan paced along the runway’s asphalt beside his car. Sunlight baked the back of his neck, and a bead of sweat trailed down his spine. The warm day hinted at the coming summer and only added to the heat of his frustration. He’d texted Rosabel the departure time. She knew the way to the airfield. Yet, apart from his awaiting driver and the pilot standing at the jet’s threshold, Duncan was there alone.
What was taking her so long? Why wasn’t she here yet?
He yanked his phone free and sent the thousandth testy rant to her via text.
I can’t wait here all day. Where are you?
She hadn’t replied to any of the previous messages, so he didn’t expect a reply to this one, but still. Punctuality was common courtesy. Especially when he’d done so much to make this as easy as possible for her. Fleetingly, he worried something had happened to her father, but he brushed the concern aside.
From his standpoint on the airplane’s entrance ramp, the pilot waved Duncan down and pointed to his watch. An irritated growl rumbled from Duncan’s throat. He hated keeping people waiting. How inconsiderate could she be? Now she was making him look bad!
Duncan’s thumbs were at the ready on his screen when Rosabel appeared across the runway at his left, dragging her suitcase behind her. Relief stole over him, while his temperature cranked up a few more notches. She wore jeans that hugged her just right, along with a floral shirt beneath a navy-blue cardigan. Her hair was pulled halfway back, leaving the rest to pool to her shoulders. Man, he’d thought she killed it in a pencil skirt, but casual? She was downright brutal.
“I knew you couldn’t resist my charms,” he said at her approach. Duncan felt like puffing out his chest. She’d come after all.
Relief remained heavy and insistent. For several moments, he’d worried she would blow him off, but he’d arranged things with his caretakers. How could she say no after that—especially since he’d handled the preparations himself? He should get a gold star.
“Is that what you’re calling them these days?” She looked squarely at him, no nonsense. No smile.
Duncan refused to falter. He gripped his suitcase handle. “Come on. Clock’s ticking.” He was halfway to the airplane’s ramp before he realized the only suitcase and footsteps he heard were his. Slowing, he glanced out to find she hadn’t moved.
Frustration scattered through him all over again. Leaving his suitcase near the on-ramp, Duncan stormed back down, his shoes thumping heavily on the metal until they hit the pavement once more.
“What’s the deal?” he demanded. “We’ve already delayed fifteen minutes for you. Let’s go.”
Rosabel folded her arms. “Have you really forgotten?”
“Forgotten what?” He was here. She was here. The plane was here. What more did he need to know?
“My terms.”
Their conversation wafted through the edges of his mind. He vaguely remembered her mentioning something like that. Duncan rested a hand on his hip, feeling the sun beat against his neck. Time ticked its urgency against his sternum, but he pushed his impatience down. “All right, then. What do you want, other than what I’ve already offered?”
A muscle tightened at her throat. “I get my own room. My own schedule. We tell your family the truth—I am your assistant, there to assist. Nothing more.”
His jaw tensed. “Anything else?”
She abandoned her suitcase and crossed the remaining distance with so much irritation burning in her expression, he braced himself to either be hit or kissed. He wasn’t sure which he preferred at this point.
Who was he kidding? He’d take the kiss.
Rosabel did neither, but that didn’t mean her presence was without impact. Her perfume wafted toward him, and she was close enough he caught the light glinting off the rage in her brown eyes. “I am my own person with opinions and interests. You no longer shoot me down just because our opinions on things don’t always coincide. If I’m going on this trip, you treat me with the respect I deserve—”