Four
“The art of medicine consists in amusing the patient while nature cures the disease.”
~Voltaire
Nadia rummaged through the well-stocked fridge for produce, glad to see Elliot had everything she needed.
She found a chicken in the freezer and sat the carcass in the sink to thaw.
Placing the kettle on the stove, she went about organizing her supplies.
The enormous counter was covered with hearty vegetables and an array of leafy greens.
A door opened and she frowned. I told him to stay in bed. Men were so stubborn.
She set a heavy cutting board on the counter. “You should be in bed, mister.”
A stout, older woman stepped into the kitchen wearing a startled expression on her crepe thin, wrinkled face. Not Elliot.
“Hello.” Nadia waved nervously.
The woman’s wide eyes scaled Nadia from her shoulders to where the counter cut off her view, just beneath her ribs. Maybe she should have dressed. She wasn’t expecting company.
The woman took a step back, her hands clutching a large pocketbook. “Who are you? Where is Mr. Garnet?”
“I’m Nadia. Mr. Garnet’s… guest. He has a cold.”
“You’re Mr. Garnet’s guest?” The woman frowned. “Are you a relative?”
She asked the question as if Elliot were some sort of recluse and this was the first time he had a woman in his house. A man like Elliot surely had lots of guests, but perhaps he chased his companions out before—whoever this was—arrived.
“I’m Nadia. Just a friend. I didn’t catch your name.”
“Oh.” Silence blanketed the kitchen. “I’m Martha, his housekeeper.” The teakettle let out a sharp whistle.
Nadia turned and moved it off the burner.
When she faced her again the woman’s gaze reverted to the counter.
Uncomfortable, she mumbled, “I wasn’t expecting anyone so I didn’t dress.
Elliot’s sick, so I wanted to make him tea before anything else.
” She gestured to the mess on the counter. “And soup.”
The woman’s frown remained as she nodded slowly. “I’ll go check on Mr. Garnet.” She disappeared, her silent steps leaving Nadia with no clue to her whereabouts in the large house.
“Strange woman.”
Dropping a teabag in a mug, she poured the hot water and stilled as a thought crossed her mind. Placing the kettle back on the burner, she scanned the room, pausing when her gaze landed on a tiny black globe in the corner by the crown molding.
Awareness crept over her, tingling every square inch of exposed skin as she looked into the hidden camera. Was he watching her?
She didn’t know if the cameras were linked to a computer monitor or the televisions, or, in this day and age, she wouldn’t be surprised if he could watch from his phone. She waited for a sense of violation to sink in, but there wasn’t one.
Oddly, the thought of Elliot watching awakened something dark in her, like performing on a private stage for him and him alone. Her hand slowly lifted, her fingers fluttering in a wave as if he might somehow answer the gesture.
She quickly turned back to the counter and caught her breath.
No. She shouldn’t think about him like that.
He was simply doing her a favor by letting her stay here.
Only a fool would mistake his kindness for more.
And damn her for falling into the same trap she always did when a man was nice to her.
She needed to stop living in a fantasy world and start seeing things the way they actually were.
Look at his home, the way he lived, he probably thought she was class A trash borrowing his guestroom and traipsing around in discount underclothes.
No wonder the maid was shocked. She probably looked nothing like the other women he brought home.
And he was probably mortified his employee just saw her like this.
Nadia would make it clear to the maid they weren’t involved.
At least then Elliot would be saved the chore of making excuses for her presence.
What was she thinking accepting his invitation last night? She’d gone from one man’s inconvenience to another’s. The difference was, she liked Elliot and didn’t want him to resent her the way Ian did. She’d see to his soup and then start looking for somewhere else to stay.