“No. The job.”
He raised his eyebrows and nodded instead of speaking.
Good. At least she hadn’t blown it so much that he’d changed his mind.
“I’m interested,” she told him. “But I need to know why you’re bothering. You could get someone in here a couple of times a week to do the cooking and cleaning. Why a full-time live-in housekeeper and why me?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead he seemed to consider the question. Which made her squirm in her seat. Was she being inappropriate with her questions? Would he get angry? Did she want to work for him if his temper had such a short fuse?
“I know you well enough to trust you in my house,” he said at last. “Besides, I like your daughter.”
Her nerves were frayed. One snapped. “Then have a couple of kids of your own.”
Thoughtful gray eyes turned toward her. “I can’t.”
She’d been expecting half a dozen answers, but not that one. “I don’t understand.”
“I have a low sperm count. It makes conception highly unlikely.”
She blinked. Her mind seemed to sway slightly as a couple hundred questions formed in her mind. How had he known? That wasn’t the sort of information one learned in a routine examination. He had to have been tested for fertility. Which meant what? That he’d been trying to get someone pregnant at one time? So at one time...
“You were married?”
A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I know that’s hard to believe.”
“No, it’s not that.”
Although it was. She couldn’t imagine Jeff on bended knee, proposing. And married? As in living with a woman? Being casual in jeans, maybe, or walking around unshaven, wearing a robe? It boggled the mind.
“I was married for several years. We tried to have children. When she didn’t get pregnant, we were both tested. The fault was mine.”
Was that why he wasn’t married anymore? Was that— She realized that it was none of her business. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“I understand your concern. While I like Maggie, I don’t think of her as a substitute daughter.”
He picked up a pen and studied it. On anyone else, Ashley would swear the action was a stall for time. Finally he set the pen down.
“I don’t make a habit of being a nice guy, which is why I’m doing this so badly,” he said. “You work for me. I have no intention of firing you. If you want a loan for relocating to another apartment and your old job back, you’re welcome to both. If you’d like to try being my housekeeper on a trial basis, that’s fine, too. I don’t want anything from you or your daughter.” He paused. Something dark passed across his face. “If you’re looking for an explanation for my actions, think of them as atonement.”
“For what?”
He shrugged. “I’m damn good at what I do. I was better as a soldier. That comes with a price.”
She didn’t want to ask any more because she didn’t want to know what he’d done. She remembered the article that mentioned his time in special ops. There were hints about covert assignments. Assassinations. Secret battles.
He was dangerous. She knew that in her head, but she couldn’t feel it in her heart. As if she was exempt from the ruthlessness. Was that possible?
“I have a small child,” she said. “Considering your line of work, I’m assuming you have guns in the house. Will she be safe?”
Instead of answering in words, he rose to his feet. At the far end of the room, he touched a book on a shelf and the entire bookcase swung open. Ashley rose and followed him. He pointed to the large safe built into the wall.
“There’s no key or combination lock. It requires a retinal scan. The mechanism has its own power source so it won’t be disabled by an electrical blackout. Everything dangerous is kept in there.”
She thought about asking what all might be in inventory, but figured she was better off not knowing.
“Maggie is perfectly safe,” he said. “I wouldn’t let her stay here otherwise.”
Ashley shivered. She wanted reassurance that she would be safe, too.
