Monster Among the Roses

I might’ve followed Isobel around the rest of the day like an eager little child. I just had this pitch in my stomach, telling me not to let her out of my sight. What if she suddenly changed her mind and decided not to believe me after all? I mean, all she had to go on was my word alone and no physical proof whatsoever. Or what if she decided she felt deceived after all? Or she decided she didn’t like me? Or—

Okay, I might’ve been a tad paranoid. But could you blame me? I’d just bared my heart to this woman, fully expecting her to stomp on the organ and throw it back into my face. That’s what I deserved. But, no. She’d taken it all surprisingly well and believed me when I had nothing to back up my story. I wasn’t sure if I could trust such an easy resolution. And so instead, I probably annoyed the hell out of her by refusing to leave her all day.

Thank goodness she didn’t seem irritated by my neediness.

But I think she understood what I was doing, and she took full advantage of the situation. Knowing how eager I was to please her, she started asking personal questions, the really embarrassing, uncomfortable ones guys never liked girls to ask them, like how many girlfriends I’d ever had and when my last relationship had been.

I’d fumbled and stuttered, not sure how to answer, because honestly, it’d been so long I couldn’t even remember how many months it’d been. Definitely over a year since I’d been out with a woman, maybe going on two. So that’s what I told her.

Except, the return look she shot me was full of suspicion, making me throw my hands into the air and insist, “I’m serious. I’ve had a pretty long dry spell. For the last few years, Gloria’s chased off any female who’s even looked as if she might be interested in me.”

To which she tipped her head and squinted. “Who’s Gloria?”

I groaned. “Oh, God. Don’t get me started on Gloria.”

So of course, she got me started on Gloria. Ten minutes later, I was still complaining about the bane of my existence as I followed Isobel into the conservatory for the second time that day.

“…And then she said, ‘I understand, Shaw.’ But how the hell could she if she came back a week later, acting as if I didn’t just totally blow her off? I’m telling you, this whole Gloria thing is driving me nuts. Why won’t she just leave me alone already? She knows I’m not interested in her.”

Isobel looked amused as she pulled on her gloves. “Probably because she also knows you’re too nice to come right out and hurt her feelings with a hard brush-off.”

I sniffed. “But why? I don’t get why she likes me in the first place. The few times I ever did try to open up to her and let her in to see the real me, she didn’t like what she saw. She thought my dream to become an archeologist was silly. Her words. Freaking silly. I was serious as all get out and she laughed in my face over something that was important to me. So honestly, if she doesn’t care about what I want or need in my life, how the hell can she expect me to care about anything she wants? And why are you looking at me like that?”

Isobel shook her head, her eyes glittering as if entertained but also crinkled at the corners as if she were learning me, learning the most basic components about me.

“I’m not even sure where to start,” she murmured thoughtfully.

With a sigh, I leaned against a wooden beam wall of the greenhouse. “I’m that messed up, huh?”

“No.” She shook her head slowly. “You’re not messed up at all. You’re just…”

When she didn’t immediately answer, I swallowed, feeling as if she really did have something negative to say about me, something that told me how awful I was for not wanting anything to do with a girl who obviously adored me. God, I was a terrible, awful man, wasn’t I? The way she kept studying me made me squirm inside.

“What?” I demanded. “I’m just what?”

She shook her head. “You’re so delusional. You say you don’t know why she likes you in the first place, so it’s hard for me to get past that part, let alone consider the rest of what you said.”

“I don’t…what do you mean by that?”

“You’re a handsome guy. You’re a handsome, kind, considerate, likeable guy. And maybe a little too humble for your own good. Anyone would be drawn to that alone without ever getting to know the real you.”

“I’m not—” I wanted to argue, because hell, I really wasn’t that stand-up of a person. I was just…me. There were about fifty things wrong with me I could immediately start listing off the top of my head.

“And you have a good heart,” Isobel continued. “With as honest and sincere and kind as you are, people know they can trust you with just about anything, even their deepest darkest secrets. I’m just curious why more women in your neighborhood than just this Gloria lady aren’t after you as persistently as she is.”

I blew out a breath before clearing my throat, suddenly uncomfortable from all the praise. “You know I wasn’t angling for quite that many compliments, right?”

She shook her head. “I know you weren’t angling for any. I’m just telling it like I see it.”

My breath caught in my throat. She really did see me the way she described. It registered through my system like a shock. “Well, whatever the reason, it’s making me want to kiss you right now.” I pushed away from the wall to stroll near her.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Trust me. I didn’t say it to—”

But it was too late. I grasped her hand and tugged her against me. “I’m going to kiss you anyway.” Then I dipped my head and brushed my mouth across hers.

Our lips shifted, clung and then pressed together before I cupped her face and deepened things. Tongues danced, bodies closed in, breaths quickened. My fingers slipped down the sides of her neck, then her back until I was clutching her ass. Damn, it felt even better against my fingers than it looked in yoga pants.

When a moan sang from her throat, I lifted her slightly, rubbing us together, letting her feel my arousal, taste my passion.

“I can’t get enough of you,” I admitted, trailing the tip of my nose along the front of her throat. Her scent clouded my nostrils and we both shuddered.

Hand clasping my shoulder, her fingers bit through the cloth of my shirt as she tipped her head back and gave a husky laugh, taunting me. “Too bad you’re on the clock.”

Earlier, I’d made a strict rule there would be no hanky-panky between us while I was working. I was adamant about it, wanting to remain honorable and trustworthy to her dad. But to Isobel, I swear it became a challenge to tempt me at every turn.

“Dammit,” I muttered, stepping back. “You put on that ruby-red lipstick on purpose, didn’t you?”

She smiled, her eyes glinting with mischievousness.

Chuckling, because I really couldn’t mind her seduction attempts at all, I shook my head, murmuring, “Evil. You’re just plain evil.” Then I leaned closer and more quietly added, “I like it.”

Her eyebrow arched primly as she glanced down at the obvious tent in my pants. “Yes, I believe you do.”

I sent her a wolfish grin. “I won’t be on the clock forever, you know.”

Her smile and giddy laugh did my heart good. Touching her, kissing her, dreaming about going further was all good and well, but being able to make her laugh…that was the true triumph. She’d changed so much since the first day I’d been here, and I couldn’t help but swell with pride and accomplishment, knowing I’d been the one to nudge her from her shell. And I was the one to reap the benefits of it too, because once she was free from her insecurities, she was amazing.

Cheeks still flushed with pleasure, she cleared her throat and turned away from me. “What were we doing in here again?” she asked as she faced a silver rack sitting against the wall. “Oh right. Planting the baby rosebushes.”

“Our babies,” I immediately cooed when she picked up a seedpod where the tiny sprout was getting bigger. Instead of one inch tall as they had been when I’d first seen them, they were now three inches. “Aww.” I couldn’t help it, my heart melted. “They’re so cute. Can we name one Groot?”

Isobel sputtered a laugh and shook her head. “We can’t just name one.” Then she sent me an impish grin. “The others would get jealous.”

“So it’s settled.” I snapped my fingers. “We must name them all. This one can be Shaw, Jr., and ooh, that one looks like a girl. She’ll be Isobel, Jr.”

She snickered. “How the heck do they look like girl or boy plants?”

I shrugged, simply enjoying the playfulness of the moment. “No idea.” I pointed to another. “We’ll have to name one Margaret after my mom, and…” I glanced up. “What was your mom’s name?”

Gaze softening and eyes glittering with emotion, she swallowed before softly saying, “Annalise.”

“Annalise,” I murmured. “That’s pretty. I like that name.”

Her smile was watery and grateful. “It’s my middle name.”

I shifted a piece of hair out of her eyes, and she didn’t even flinch when I accidentally brushed past her scar. “Then we should name them all Annalise.”

She made an amused sound, but sadness lingered in her eyes, which I was sure was what prompted her to turn away. “So, where do you want to plant them?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Wherever you think best.” She kept gnawing on her lip as she studied the garden, unable to make a decision, so I pointed to the first bare patch of ground I saw. “What about there?”

Isobel stiffened, her entire bearing charged with tense distress. “Not there.”

When she immediately turned away, I crinkled my brow and turned to study the ground. “Why not there?”

She said nothing. I touched her back. “Isobel?”

She drew in a breath before answering. “That was where I died.”

My lungs seized. Then I shook my head. “Come again?”

It took her a while before she faced me. When she did, she looked even sadder than she had when she’d said her mother’s name. “It was my fault,” she admitted. “The fire.”

My lips parted. Lifting my hand to cup her scarred cheek, I murmured, “My God. I had no idea. What happened?”

She shifted her attention to the bare section of earth. “I had a boyfriend. Eric. He was…” I removed my hand from her. She sent me a dry glance. “Well, at seventeen, I thought he was everything. My first serious boyfriend. I thought he’d be my last. My happily ever after.” With a roll of her eyes, she muttered, “I thought I loved him.”

I nodded as if I understood, except I couldn’t stop my stomach from churning. She was talking in the past tense, and it had happened eight years earlier, but none of that mattered. I hated this Eric douche, and I wanted to smash his face in, for no other reason than Isobel had once fancied him above all others.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice low and my feelings restrained under tight control.

“Mom found my birth control pills,” she confessed. “We fought. She told me I was too young to be sexually active. I told her it was none of her business, and then she…she grounded me.”

Shaking her head, she glanced at me with a slight smile. “She’d never grounded me before. I’m not even sure if she knew what a real grounding entailed. Neither did I, really. But I didn’t care what it meant. I was the spoiled princess of the manor, Henry Nash’s only daughter. I’d always gotten whatever I wanted. So no way did I accept her punishment.”

I shook my head sadly, imagining a young, pampered, entitled Isobel. And as I did, I still felt bad for her. Not even a spoiled brat had deserved the fate she’d landed.

“It was so stupid,” Isobel went on, her eyes glazed and focused on the past. “I wanted to sneak out to see him, so I climbed from my window and jumped down to the ground. I forgot all about the candle in a jar I’d left burning on the desk right in front of that window. The curtain must’ve gotten swept into the jar when I’d opened the window. I’m not sure. I just remember looking back up there once I climbed down to make sure my mom hadn’t spotted me, and that’s when I saw the orange blaze behind the glass.

“I ran back inside, but oh God, do you know how fast a fire spreads? By the time I reached my room, it was entirely engulfed. I couldn’t just beat out the burning curtain, like I thought I could. I thought I could run and find a fire extinguisher, but my brain felt like it was working through molasses. All my thoughts went into slow motion. I panicked and ended up running to my mom for help, or to warn her, or I don’t know. I just knew there was a problem, so I got my mom.

“When we left her room, the fire had already reached the hallway and was eating up more rooms. We could barely see the bright orange through all the smoke, but my mom grabbed my arm and then…then this flaming beam came crashing down toward us.”

When she paused to gasp for breath as if the smoke was still stealing her oxygen, I took her hand. She didn’t seem to notice, even though her fingers squeezed around mine.

“I’m not sure if the rest is real memory or things I’ve heard that happened mixed with dreams I have about that night. But the dreams feel so real like an honest-to-God-memory; they haunt me more than fuzzy things I recall when I’m awake. In them, I’m trapped and burning alive. It hurts like nothing I can describe, so I scream, thinking I’m going to die. I try to find my mom, but I can’t see anything. Then I hear her calling my name above the crackling flames. She sounds so desperate and scared, but I don’t know where she is.”

Isobel finally realized I was holding her hand and she gently pulled her fingers away to cradle them to her chest. She shook her head.

“Mr. Pan saved me. He must’ve kicked the beam off me, because these arms suddenly scooped me up and carried me down the stairs. He brought me out here, right to this very spot. The first time I came back here after the fire, there was still a human-sized burn patch in the grass where I had lain.”

She placed her hand against the bare patch, her eyes filling with tears.

“In the dreams, Mr. Pan was breathing hard, his face full of soot, and his skin bubbling and bleeding where he’d burned himself to free me from the fire. I reached for him, begging him not to leave me, but he said he had to go get my mom.”

“I waited there for them, unable to move, listening to the fire consume my house, smelling my own burned skin and experiencing the worst agony of my life. I really thought he’d be able to get her and bring her back out. Finally, I passed out. I remember waking a few times when the ambulance and paramedics arrived. I remember being lifted onto the gurney. I vaguely remember bits and pieces of the inside of the ambulance. I tried to ask about Mom and Mr. Pan, but I couldn’t talk very well. They said my heart stopped three times, and I coded before I was brought back again. The first time was when I was lying here in the grass, waiting for my mom to escape from the fire I’d started.”

“Jesus, Isobel.” I shook my head and reached for her, pulling her into my arms.

She rested her head on my shoulder.

“She died because I was spoiled and selfish. Mrs. Pan’s husband, Kit’s dad, died because I wanted to pout and break the rules. My childhood home burned to the ground because I just had to see my boyfriend.”

I wanted to argue and tell her those weren’t the reasons why. But I knew she wouldn’t believe me. No one could convince her of this; she would have to convince herself someday. I could only be there to hold her through it until the guilt and misery passed.

“What happened to him?” I asked. “Eric.”

“Oh, he left me,” she said, her voice bland and unconcerned. “I was too hideous for him to deal with after that.”

I stiffened and pulled back to see her face. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She shrugged and lifted her face. “No one blamed him, least of all me. That was before all my surgeries and graphs. I look tons better now.” Then she touched her own scars. “Remember that comment you made about how my ear hadn’t melted halfway down my neck? Well, it actually did, but they were able to move it back to the proper place. I looked awful. Horrific. I can’t fault Eric for leaving.”

Well, I could. I didn’t give him any kind of pass at all for taking off. The jerk bastard piece of shit. “A misplaced ear is no reason to leave a girl.”

“He was only seventeen,” she tried to explain.

“I don’t fucking care,” I muttered. “He’s an ass.”

Her smile was affectionate. Pressing her palms to my chest, she looked into my eyes, eyes that told me they loved me, and she said, “You’re such a good person; I can see why it’s hard for you to understand imperfection in others. Eric wasn’t—”

“I’m not that good,” I argued, shaking my head. “And I’m damn well not perfect. There’s nothing special about me at all. I make just as many mistakes as the next guy. But I’m not going to forgive some douche who left you after you were scarred no matter how much you defend him. He’s an ass.”

She chuckled. “You already said that.”

“Well it bared repeating.”

“You make me happy,” she murmured, smoothing her hand up my chest until she wrapped her fingers around the back of my neck. Then she leaned in until her mouth was only inches from me. “You make me feel light. And free.”

“Strange,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers and swallowing to combat the urge to kiss her. “You always make me feel heavy. Heavy and hot. So damn hot.”

I burned for her.

“Shaw?” she whispered.

“Yeah?” I whispered right back, my body thrumming and pulse quickening.

She licked her lips. “It’s five minutes after four.”

“Oh, thank God.” Officially off work, I crushed my mouth to hers.

Drawing her into my arms, I hauled her against me. When her breasts gouged my chest, I groaned. When my arousal prodded her hip, she gasped. Our hands gripped and tugged at each other while our teeth clashed and tongues tangled. I gripped her ass, securing her to me, while she rubbed her hip against my front, making me growl a throaty curse of pleasure.

Neither of us heard the door from the house open.

“What the hell is going on?” a voice snarled.

Isobel and I leapt apart before spinning to face the new arrival. Shame and fear filled my veins as Henry set his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes.

“Dad,” Isobel gasped. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth before glancing my way. I caught her eye, and we shared an oops mingled with an oh fuck look. Together, we turned back to him.

I looked down when she took my hand. Our fingers interlaced, and for some reason that eased me. No matter what happened, we were a united front.

“I kissed Shaw,” she announced.

That was obvious, and yet I still very nearly pissed myself when she said it.

“And I like him. A lot.” She used my hand she was holding to jerk me closer to her, all the while not taking her eyes off her dad. “He likes me too. Do you have a problem with that?”

Henry narrowed his gaze on his daughter, then glanced down at our connected hands before he looked up, right into my eyes.

I gulped, unable to decipher what he was thinking.

“I’d like to talk to Shaw in private,” he said to Isobel as he kept his gaze steady on me.

But Isobel shook her head. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“But—”

“He already told me about the reason he was brought to work here as a handyman.”

Henry pierced me with a deadly glare. “Oh, did he?”

He kind of looked as if he wanted to castrate me.

“And I’m not mad at you,” Isobel continued. “You were worried about me; I can respect and appreciate that. I’m not happy that you brought another person here specifically for me, to keep me company, or for whatever reason you did it, but since your misplaced intentions actually turned out for the best, I can forgive you and move on.”

“Well…” Henry seemed momentarily boggled before he nodded, saying a humble, “Thank you. I’m glad you realize I was coming from a place of love and only wanted you to be—”

“I know, Dad.”

Her quiet words seemed to affect him dramatically. His face flushed, eyes watered, and he began to cough. Then he nodded, cleared his throat, and shifted his gaze back to me.

“Nevertheless,” he drew out slowly. “Shaw is my employee, and I would like to speak to him. Alone.”

I nodded and started to step forward, but Isobel tightened her grip on my hand, keeping me next to her.

“Only if you promise his job isn’t at risk and you won’t do anything to harm his mother,” she said, trying to negotiate with her father for my sake.

After a sharp scowl my way, Henry turned back to her. “He really did tell you everything, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” With a nod, she added, “And I believe him.”

“Thank you,” I told her sincerely. I opened my mouth to let her know how much that meant to me, but her dad interrupted.

“In my office, Hollander. Now.”

Leaning over, I smacked a quick kiss to Isobel’s scarred cheek, then I hurried after her father.

Henry waited to speak until we reached his office. And even after he shut the door and turned to me, his gaze flashing with outrage, he kept his voice low, as if he were afraid Isobel was listening at the door.

“This wasn’t part of the agreement,” he hissed.

“I know, sir.” Keeping myself military stiff, I nodded. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

He narrowed his eyes, studying me shrewdly. “You didn’t mean for what to happen, exactly?”

“Isobel and me.”

“And what is happening between you and Izzy?”

I crinkled my eyebrows. “That’s really not your business,” I said slowly.

He didn’t seem to care for that answer. His face a mask of anger, he marched closer, waving his finger in my face. “This is an outrage. I brought you into this house to make her feel alive again. Not to…not to…”

“And I did,” I said evenly. “You can’t deny how much more active and social she is now.”

He growled and narrowed his eyes.

So I added, “And in return, she made me feel alive again. I know I wasn’t supposed to get as close as I did to her, and I know with my station in life, I’ll never be good enough to—”

“Dammit, Hollander,” he growled. “Don’t make me out to look like a snob. I brought you here because of her, just to get her to open up. It wasn’t supposed to become some grand romance. You weren’t supposed to pretend a friendship.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t pretend anything.” But he kept going as if he didn’t even hear me.

“You weren’t supposed to seduce her, and you damn well weren’t supposed to—”

“Fall in love with her?” I cut in, anger vibrating under my skin. “I’m sorry, but you never made that clear. It wasn’t in the contract, and it certainly wasn’t something I could control.”

I swore, if he could, Henry would’ve exhaled fire from his nose. His glare was scorching. With a slow snarl, he bit out, “So you’re going to play the love card, are you?”

I blinked, confused. “It’s not a card. It’s the truth.”

“Is it?” Isobel’s father asked quietly, his gaze boring into mine. “Or is this the desperate man who came into my office thinking he finally found his ticket to securing his future in the arms of my wealthy, vulnerable daughter?”

Something in me snapped. There was no other way to explain it. I couldn’t stand there and let him—or anyone else—question my feelings. Stepping threateningly close, I glared into his blue eyes that were the same shade as Isobel’s.

“I will let you question my affections one time, and this one time only. But don’t ever make that mistake again. She is your daughter; you know how amazing she is. Do you honestly think I was able to spend the last two months in her company without noticing it too? Without falling for her? You’re smarter than that, Mr. Nash. You could put her out on the street right now, without a penny to her name, and I would take her in, happy to have her with nothing but the clothes on her back. Isn’t that why you hired me in the first place? Because you knew that was the kind of man I am? I love your daughter. And if you want to fire me and break our agreement because of it, fine. I’ll find another way to take care of my mother. But it won’t stop me from feeling the way I do about Isobel.”

Henry stared at me long after I’d finished talking. Then he blew out a long breath, ran his hands through his thinning hair, and fell into the seat in front of his desk. “I hope this doesn’t make me a fool, but I actually believe you.”

He still hadn’t answered my most pressing question. So I asked, “So did I just lose my job here or not?”

With an amused sniff, he glanced up. He looked tired, but resigned. “No. But my original warning stands. If you hurt her, you’re gone.”

I nodded, perfectly fine with that. “I’d sooner cut out my own heart,” I promised.