Lone Wolfe Read Free Page B

must have taken Mollie Parker’s photograph a hundred times. And he could
see why: with her pale skin and tumbling, auburn hair, she possessed a Titian
beauty that seemed almost otherworldly, especially considering how he’d
stumbled upon her in this enchanted little place. It had taken a moment to
connect this flashily dressed interloper with the laughing, graceful girl on
his sister’s bedroom walls, but now Jacob recognised the tumbling curls and
creamy skin. She was beautiful, stylish, and he had no idea why she would be in
this place. On his property.
                 Why
had Mollie Parker gone off to Italy the moment her father had died? Why had she
returned? And what was he going to do with her now? The look of uncertainty and
fear in those soft, pansy-brown eyes annoyed him, because he didn’t want to
deal with it. He didn’t want to deal with the outraged Miss Mollie Parker. He
had enough to worry about, managing the renovation and sale of Wolfe Manor, and
attempting, as best as he could, to repair his fractured family. Concerning
himself with a stranger’s well-being was not on his agenda. He didn’t need the
feeling those proud yet pleading eyes stirred in him: something between
curiosity and compassion, something real and alive. He hadn’t felt anything
like that in … years. Nineteen years.
                 And
he wasn’t about to feel it again.
                 He
watched her gaze steal to the boots by the door. Her father’s boots, he
suspected. Seven months on, she would still be grieving. He felt an
uncomfortable jab in his conscience as he realised he could have been more
sensitive; the unexpectedness of her presence, and her vulnerability, had
caught him on the raw. For a single moment, with her fancy clothes and her trip
to Italy, he’d assumed the worst. It had not taken long to realise his mistake,
but then, it never did.
                 Still,
Jacob didn’t want to have to deal with her. Think of her. Be affected by her.
And yet something in her eyes reached out to him, spoke to him, and despite his
misgivings and even his fear, he answered that silent call.
                 He
would help her and at the same time assuage his own conscience. He’d given her
the commission of a lifetime.
                 ‘Work
for you?’ Mollie repeated incredulously. She felt another sharp stab of anger.
‘My father worked for you for fifty years, and for the past fifteen he didn’t
even get a pay cheque.’
                 Jacob
stilled. Mollie realised she’d surprised him. She wondered if he’d thought of
her father at all in the past nineteen years. He obviously hadn’t concerned
himself for a moment with her. ‘I’m not talking about your father,’ he replied
after a moment. ‘You are the one in need of a place to stay, and I happen to be
in need of—’
                 ‘I
won’t be your maid. Or your cook. Or—’
                 ‘Landscape
designer?’ Jacob finished softly. Mollie almost thought she heard laughter
lurking in his voice. She must have imagined it, she decided, for Jacob’s
expression was as coldly foreboding as ever.
                 ‘Landscape
designer?’ she repeated, testing the words. ‘You can’t—’
                 ‘You
told me you were planning to start a garden design business. And I happen to
need someone to landscape the estate’s gardens.’
                 Mollie
blinked, realisation dawning. ‘That’s—that’s a huge job,’ she replied faintly.
                 Jacob
lifted one shoulder in an indifferent shrug.
                 ‘So?’
                 ‘But
… a job like that.’ She paused, her heart beating with
sudden, frantic desperation. She didn’t want to disqualify herself for such an
amazing opportunity, but her own conscience required that she explain to Jacob
the absurdity of what he was