Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 104820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
She could sense Nina growing impatient.
“If you’re really averse to such a good proposition, Tessa,” Nina said, all the warmth vanishing from her voice, “then I can’t imagine what better opportunity we’d be able to offer you here at Helping Hands.”
Tessa understood. Her fate had already been sealed by the agency. If she wanted to feed her passion, she would have to follow the money. “Of course. I’m happy to accept the position.”
Nina was all smiles again. “Excellent. I’ll just get you to sign the paperwork, and you’ll start with Mr. Davenport this afternoon.”
So soon?
Then again, what was the point in putting off the inevitable? Fate, a horse, and Margaret Percy had somehow conspired to put her in Archer Davenport’s home. What could she do but follow the path she’d been shoved onto?
She shook Nina’s hand and told her she’d head back to Margaret’s house to pack her few possessions. She’d traveled around so much these past few years that she was a pro at packing. All it took was one suitcase with clothes and toiletries and a backpack full of art supplies. She’d managed to keep her painting from Margaret’s beady eyes and would have to find a suitable spot to hide her easel at Archer’s place on Scenic Drive, though she didn’t think that would be a problem in a movie star’s spacious home.
What was a problem—a huge problem—was how her heart thudded as she thought about his blue eyes and wide grin.
No question about it, she would have to keep a tight rein on her feelings if she was going to survive living with the heartthrob of her dreams.
Chapter Seven
Tessa parked her twenty-year-old SUV in the driveway and switched off the engine. She didn’t move. She couldn’t.
A stone’s throw from the beach, Archer Davenport’s house was even more fabulous than she’d imagined. In the years she’d been a caregiver, Tessa had been used to visiting, and living in, all kinds of houses, from modest to grand. Her job had taken her far and wide, and she’d thought she’d lost her greenness when it came to spectacular homes. And yet, coming from Margaret’s historic fairy-tale cottage, this place was a modern masterpiece of glass and sharp angles. Its crisp white paint practically sparkled in the sun.
She recalled Margaret saying it had its own screening room and was one of the few houses in town that had a gym and indoor swimming pool in the basement. The kind of luxury Tessa still had a hard time imagining. She took several deep breaths, trying to convince herself that this was just a job like any other.
She got out of the car, still trying to slow her racing heart, and took her two bags from the back. The front door was built like Fort Knox, an intimidating dark gray with a series of security cameras around the buzzer that immediately made her feel self-conscious, and an electronic keypad.
She smoothed back tendrils of her long hair, which was tied in its usual ponytail. She wore jeans and her white uniform shirt and jacket, her name stitched across the breast in royal blue. Should she have dressed smarter? But no, if Archer Davenport wanted her to be his caregiver, then he was going to have to take her as she was.
She swallowed again, avoiding the eye of the camera. It was to be expected, she supposed, that a movie star would place a premium on privacy. She thought back to their first meeting on the beach, when she’d been out walking with Margaret. It had taken, what, two or three minutes before their conversation had been interrupted by those young fans? She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to lose your anonymity so completely.
Setting her bags on the step, she took another deep breath and pressed the buzzer.
To her surprise, the door swung open seemingly of its own accord.
And up there was Archer Davenport, a sheepish expression on his face, sitting in the middle of a grand staircase, his crutches in a heap on the tiled floor below.
Tessa gasped and raced over to the stairs. “What happened?”
Archer’s cheeks turned slightly red. It was totally unexpected, and completely adorable. “Looks like you arrived just in time,” he said, half grinning, half grimacing. “I needed something upstairs, but lost my balance.”
She gave him her most reassuring smile in return, trying not to gaze too intently into his deep-blue eyes. Archer tried to stand, but she stopped him. “No, hold on to me. Don’t put any weight on that leg.” She gestured at his cast.
Archer scratched at his sun-streaked hair. “I don’t want to sound patronizing,” he said carefully, “but are you going to be able to take my weight?”
Tessa reached for him. “If I couldn’t, you would have made a real mistake in hiring me. Fortunately for both of us, I’m stronger than I look.”