He told her there will be no discussion as if that was the end of the discussion just because he said so.
She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, let it go. It wasn’t in her nature or her upbringing. She’d been working since she was sixteen, getting a job at the local Dairy Queen so she could buy herself clothes and go out with her friends and not put a strain on her mother’s already seriously strained finances. She wasn’t about to let him “provide” for her.
She pushed it. “Douglas, I understand but –”
“The subject is closed,” he announced.
She stared at him, not knowing whether to laugh out loud or scream, wishing she could do both at the same time.
“I can’t –” she began again.
“How, may I ask, do I get you to do what you’re told?” he queried calmly but he didn’t look calm. His eyes were glittering and she was so used to Douglas’s complete indifference she couldn’t tell if he was enjoying himself or if he was immensely annoyed.
“I never do what I’m told,” Julia informed him, having decided that, for her part, she did not find this amusing at all.
“That does not bode well for the next thirteen years,” he declared, his tone showing he had chosen the opposite.
“I’m sorry, I can’t just live here and contribute nothing.”
“You’ll be taking care of the children.”
“One day, I’ll be working too. What then?” she asked.
“We’ll cope, people do these things every day,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Yes, but I’ll need more commitment from you with the children. Especially now, especially Lizzie. I think she’s looking to you –”
He stiffened, all amusement gone, and he interrupted her again, his words curt. “I have no idea how to heal her grief and further I have no intention of filling Gavin’s shoes.”
“But –” Julia began, stunned at his reaction and his words.
“Have we covered everything on your lists?” he asked politely and pointedly, this discussion, according to Douglas, was obviously closed.
“Yes. But, Douglas –” Julia tried again.
Douglas interrupted again. “Good, I have a phone call to finish.”
And to her amazement, he walked to his desk.
She was dismissed.
She stood there not knowing what to do. She’d never met the like of him. One minute, he was so good-looking, so damned sexy that he made her legs tremble and her stomach pitch, the next minute he was so impossibly autocratic, she felt like throwing something at him.
He picked up his phone as he rifled through some papers and she realised that he didn’t even intend to acknowledge her presence in the room.
She’d been there less than a week, she’d left her entire life behind, the life before her was still uncertain and in the midst of all this she had three children who depended on her and, by the way… him.
She wasn’t supposed to do it alone. Tammy and Gav wanted her to have help and that meant far more than a free meal ticket, the use of a car and Douglas publically bestowing his “favour” on her at art galleries.
She didn’t even wage the battle to control her temper, she just let it lose. She downed the contents of her whisky, gagged momentarily as the fire hit her throat and stormed his desk.
“Excuse me!” she slammed her glass down on its shiny surface making his head come up with a jerk. “I’m sure you’re used to strolling into a board room or wherever you work and making everyone do your bidding but I’m afraid that does not work with me. May I remind you that your sister and my brother expect us, no, they trusted us, no, they honoured us by allowing us to raise those children together and I’m not going to let you throw money at it and then get on with your life like nothing’s changed. You’ll pull your weight, you’ll get involved and you’ll damn well quit telling me what to do all the time, because I’m up to here…” she indicated her chin with an angry thrust of her hand, “with it.”
He had the receiver in his hand but, after she finished, he slowly returned it to its cradle.
“Are you finished?” he asked, his tone completely civil.
She took a deep breath.
Was she finished? She didn’t know. Maybe she went too far.
“No, Julia,” he said quietly, “that was too magnificent to question. Simply score your point and go.”
She faltered. “Did I?” He raised his brow in question. “Score a point,” she explained.
He inclined his head briefly.
She was stunned. She was pleased.
For some reason, she was also scared.
One point meant only one point which meant there was a game afoot here. And she did not want to play games with Douglas Ashton. Douglas Ashton always, always won.
Nevertheless, she thought it prudent to take his advice.
“Well then, thank you for the chat. I feel much better,” she lied. “Goodnight.”
She turned to go but his voice calling her name stopped her.
She turned back.
“Yes?” she asked.
He was looking at her in that pleasant way again, something akin to admiration in his eyes, a look that stole her breath away.
His voice was smooth as silk when he spoke. “Last time you said goodnight to me in this room, it came with a kiss.”
The pleasant tremor slid so far up her spine, it went up her neck and made her scalp tingle just as her stomach flipped.
With a supreme effort of will, Julia ignored it.
“I wasn’t annoyed with you last time,” she informed him haughtily.
There was definitely a game afoot and even after this discussion of their “arrangement”, she wasn’t sure of the ground rules.
“I’ll bear that in mind the next time we have a late evening conversation,” he replied, then he picked up the phone and she felt her best bet at that point was to flee the room.
Which was exactly what she did.
Chapter Seven
Douglas’s Decision
The next morning, Douglas rose early and, instead of his usual run, he went to the stables to take one of his horses out to be exercised. They were getting fat and lazy with inattention. Tamsin and Gavin used to come to Sommersgate once a week to take them out but now that they were gone, he was the only one who could do it.
He saddled his chestnut stallion and for over an hour rode him through the wood surrounding Sommersgate. When he was done, instead of leaving it to Carter, Douglas brushed the horse down himself. When he was finished, he went back to the house where he showered, dressed and picked up the phone to call Samantha.
She answered, her voice sounding as if she’d been awake for hours and in that time had arranged peace in the Middle East while baking a complicated soufflé.
He instructed her to clear his schedule as best she could so he could be at Sommersgate in the evenings and to make an appointment at his bank for himself and Julia.
“I see,” she responded meaningfully. “Does this decision have anything to do with a fab… you… las green satin dress?”
Sam had been with him for several years and had lasted longer than all of his PAs. She was able to do this because she was incredibly bright, had the energy of a litter of four week old puppies, was completely circumspect and didn’t fear him. Therefore, he often cut her a fair amount of slack which he would never do for others.