2
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Jonathan
I’d never felt pain like this. As I sat at my desk watching Conor Rose’s daughter leave my office, agony sliced down my middle. My mother was dead. Everything inside me refused to believe it, yet I knew it was true. This was my punishment for being so stubborn and unforgiving, for pushing her out of my life, and now I’d never get the chance to tell her how much I loved her, despite everything.
If this was what hell felt like, people were right to fear it.
My office doors opened, and my assistant, Therese, stepped in. “Sir, you mentioned you had a task for me?”
I stared at her, feeling like I wasn’t inside my body. Then I blinked and cleared my throat, my voice deceptively devoid of emotion when I responded stoically, “My mother has passed away, and some arrangements need to be made.”
Immediately, Therese’s eyes softened with empathy as she took an instinctive step forward. “Oh, Jonathan. I’m so sorry.”
I snatched the pages I’d torn from Ada Rose’s notebook and stood, absentmindedly noting the feminine yet messy writing before I handed them to Therese. “She was in Thailand with her husband, and the bodies need to be brought home. There’s some information here. Spare no expense. If we need to pay the right people to make the process quicker, you have my permission to do so. Can you get Albert Reed on the phone? I’m not sure if she changed solicitors during the last ten years, but Mam was with him back before she got married.”
“Yes, I’ll call him now,” she replied then stepped forward to squeeze my arm. “I really am so sorry, sir. It’s just awful.”
She left, and I walked straight into my private bathroom, closed the door and then promptly punched my fist into the wall. Agony shattered through my knuckles, the skin splitting. The physical pain hushed my chaotic emotions, but only for a second or two. I needed something to drown out everything that was in my heart. Perhaps a bottle of whiskey might help.
My relationship with my mother had always been complicated. She’d made questionable choices with her life, choices that had affected me a lot when I was young. Eventually, it had gotten to the point where I could no longer stand by and let her continue picking men who would ruin her. It had happened over and over again, until she’d eventually met Conor Rose and determined he was different. That he wouldn’t destroy her emotionally just like my biological father and all the others who came after him had done.
Well, it turned out he had ruined her in the end, just not in the way I’d anticipated.
Who the hell went out on a boat during a storm?
My thoughts went to his daughter. She looked just like him, even had his eyes. Eyes as captivating as those were surely what had seduced my mother when she and Conor had first met. It had been difficult to look at Ada, not only due to her resemblance to her father, but also because she was strikingly beautiful. This was despite the fact that she dressed in drab, practical clothing. I much preferred women draped in expensive, luxury garments. Still, it didn’t help that she was exactly my type. Lots of thick, dark hair, big, sultry brown eyes and an ample chest.
My mind went to that moment just before she left my office, the strain in her expression like she was in some sort of physical pain. It had only been a brief flash, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
No . I refused to give her any more thought. If she were anything like her father, then I wanted nothing to do with her. As soon as the funeral was over, I never wanted to hear from her or any member of the Rose family ever again.
Filling the sink, I plunged my hand in and watched as the water turned pink while blood seeped from my cut knuckles. I hadn’t punched a wall since I was a teenager. It was odd that I hadn’t cried. Ada Rose had offered me those tissues after she’d shared the news, but I didn’t need one. My eyes were confusingly dry, but not because I wasn’t bereft. Perhaps some part of my mind knew there was no time yet for tears. Too much needed to be done.
Speaking of which, I really did need to talk to my mother’s solicitor and sort out her affairs. After a few more minutes of composing myself, I released the water from the sink, found some bandages in the cupboard to wrap my knuckles and then walked back out into my office.
***
The very next morning, I stood outside my childhood home.
Located on the outskirts of a small seaside town, it was a three-bedroom bungalow with a front drive and large garden. From the main bedroom, there was a distant view of the sea. Throttled by emotion, a brick sank in my stomach as memories flooded in. Even the smell in the air was as familiar as the back of my hand.
After speaking with Albert Reed—who, it turned out, still handled my mother’s affairs—I discovered that she hadn’t changed her will since I was a teenager. It was shocking because I would’ve bet my last penny that Conor Rose would’ve convinced her to make him, or perhaps his daughter, the main beneficiary after they were wed. But he hadn’t. Maybe he just wasn’t very bright. That meant the house and whatever small effects Mam left behind went to me. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Didn’t know if I wanted to sell the house or keep hold of it. Some irrational part of me even considered moving in so I could absorb a small piece of her. Discover what I’d missed during our years apart.
An old Toyota was parked on the road, but I suspected it belonged to one of the neighbours. Mam had never driven, and as far as I knew, Conor didn’t drive either due to an accident he’d caused years ago while drunk behind the wheel.
Therese had come along for moral support, and I was glad because I honestly didn’t know where to start.
“Such a lovely home,” Therese said, her voice soft and sad as we entered the house thanks to the key she’d collected from Albert Reed.
Nostalgia thickened the air. Too many memories to count. It still smelled like peonies and lavender, my mam’s favourite scents. The place was spotless, which was unusual because Mam had always been a little chaotic in her cleaning habits. She tended to let things pile up, then, with a burst of energy, would do a massive spring clean. I was relieved there wasn’t much sign of Conor. Aside from a few updates, it still looked as it had the last time I’d been there. Something about the familiarity hit me square in the chest, and I needed a moment.
“I’m just going to use the bathroom,” I said, and Therese nodded as I headed down the hall. Placing my hand on the doorknob, I turned the handle. Before I’d properly registered the noise of another person, I had the door open and was faced with a very naked, very wet woman.
Not just any woman.
Ada Rose.
Water dripped down her lush, full breasts and round hips as she stood from the bath and was clearly in the middle of reaching for a towel that hung on a nearby rack. Her dark brown eyes grew ever larger as she gaped at me then shrieked, “Get the hell out!”
“ Fuck ,” I growled and swiftly retreated.
Slamming shut the door, my pulse pounded as I pressed my head against the wall and swore again under my breath. I was as hard as a diamond from the delectable naked vision that just graced my eyes. It was only when I willed my cock to go down that my fury emerged. What the hell was she doing taking baths in my mother’s house?
Seemingly having heard Ada’s shrieking, Therese appeared at the top of the hall. “Is everything all right?”
“Just an unexpected visitor. I’ll deal with it.”
She nodded, looking sceptical. “Okay, I’ll be in the kitchen, then.”
A minute later, the bathroom door opened, and Ada emerged, her body wrapped in a towel and her hair twisted up in another. Her feet were in flip flops. Her skin was pink and dewy from the bath, her cheeks stained red in clear embarrassment. My gaze traced the wet, delicate strands of hair clinging to her forehead and neck. Continuing in their descent, my eyes went to the seductive curve of her bosom obscured beneath the thick towel, and I found myself suddenly parched, my throat dry and scratchy.
She was stunning, and I hated how my traitorous gaze couldn’t help but drink her in.
She appeared to take a deep breath, a concerned frown lining her brow as she pressed her fingers to her temples. “Okay, why are you still here?” She stared up at me, colour high in her cheeks that told me my walking in on her had been mortifying for her. Good. She deserved to feel discomfort when taking liberties in someone else’s house.
“Why am I here?” I barked a mirthless laugh. “Why the fuck are you here?”
“I live here,” she stated simply.
I balked. “No, you don’t. This is my mother’s house.”
“I’m well aware of who owns the house,” Ada snipped, that spark of attitude I’d noticed yesterday in her tone. “I moved in with my dad and Leonora almost three years ago.”
“Well, this house belongs to me now, so you’ll have to move out.”
She blinked, her pretty dark lashes fluttering. “Excuse me?”
“You have one week to collect your things and make arrangements.”
“One week, but that’s … that’s hardly enough time for me to—”
“Actually,” a prim voice interjected as Therese butted her head out at the top of the hallway once again. Of course, my assistant had been listening. “If she’s been living here for three years, she’s entitled to 180 days’ notice of termination.”
Ada arched an eyebrow at me and cocked her head. Jesus Christ, why did we need to be having this conversation while she was clad in only a towel, droplets of water still glistening on her bare shoulders?
The devil normally appeared in a tempting package, I reminded myself.
I narrowed my gaze. “Go put some clothes on, and we’ll discuss this in the kitchen.”
Her expression hardened. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Fine. Stay in your skimpy little towel. It’s not like I haven’t seen everything already.” I hoped my dismissive tone disguised how much the sight of her had affected me.
Her eyes flared wide, that rosy flush returning to her cheeks as she pressed her lips together in anger. Then she stomped past me toward what I assumed was her bedroom.
Bloody hell, that was all I needed. A squatter in my mother’s house. And an inconveniently beautiful one at that.
I went to the kitchen and found Therese by the counter going through emails on her phone like she hadn’t been listening to every word.
“I assume you heard all that,” I said with a sigh as I entered.
“You could’ve been kinder to her. You just walked in on her in the bathroom, not to mention she’s grieving, too.”
Right. Grieving for her rat bastard of a father.
“Is that true what you said about the notice? 180 days seems excessive. That’s what? Six months?”
Therese turned her phone to me, showing me a list of tenant rights on the RTB website. I inwardly swore. My plan was to get rid of Ada Rose as soon as our parents’ funerals were done with. Now, it appeared I was going to be stuck with her for a lot longer than anticipated.
A few minutes later, she appeared in the kitchen doorway, thankfully clad in jeans and an oversized hoodie so I didn’t need to be distracted by the curves hidden beneath. She’d combed out her thick hair, and it hung in a damp river down her back.
“Hello again,” she said, dipping her head to Therese. “Can I offer either of you a cup of tea or coffee?”
“Don’t presume to offer me a beverage in my own house,” I shot off, deeply uncomfortable with how at ease she was walking about the place.
“Right, I get that you’re inheriting the house, Jonathan. You don’t need to keep repeating it. However, you haven’t been here in a long time, and I’m more familiar with where everything is kept; hence, my offer …”
Oh, the fucking attitude . For a split second, my fingers itched to bend her over the table and teach her a lesson in how to speak to me. She was definitely her father’s daughter. Though it did concern me how much I enjoyed the sassy way she’d enunciated my name.
“I might not have been here in some time, but I did grow up in this house; hence , why I can remember where things are kept. I’m not an imbecile.”
Ada Rose merely lifted an eyebrow and motioned for me to go ahead. “Great. In that case, I’ll take a cup of tea. Milk, no sugar.”
I pressed my lips together and stared her down. A long silence elapsed before Therese blew out an exasperated breath. “I’ll make the tea. You two sit and discuss the tenancy arrangement.”
I walked slowly across the room then silently unbuttoned my suit jacket and took a seat at the table across from Ada. I felt her eyes on me while Therese filled the kettle with water then began searching through cupboards.
“Cups are in the second cupboard on the left,” I told her then shot Ada a satisfied glance when Therese replied, “Ah, so they are.”
Ada frowned then glanced at her lap. Her dark eyelashes cast shadows across her cheeks and highlighted her fine bone structure. When she glanced at me next, her eyes travelled over me as though cataloguing my features. I noticed when she focused on my bandaged hand.
“What happened to you?”
I stared at her but didn’t answer, a flash of me punching the wall in my office bathroom entering my head before I blanked it out. She blew out a sigh and let the subject drop.
“How are things proceeding with the repatriation process?” she continued in a sober voice.
“I’m flying over there tomorrow and will be returning with the bodies on Friday.”
“Friday? Right, okay.” Her brow furrowed like she was making plans. “That means we should be able to hold the funeral on Monday. I’ve already been in touch with a director and—”
“Please have them forward the bill to my office.”
Ada blinked in surprise, my generosity clearly taking her off guard. Look, I might not have wanted her living in my mother’s house for any longer than absolutely necessary, but I did possess a heart. Despite our troubled relationship, I loved my mother, and I would give her the send-off she deserved, even if it meant paying for her scumbag husband’s funeral, too. Ada had corresponded with Therese about Mam’s wish to be buried alongside Conor, and if Ada’s wardrobe, the fact she was living in my mother’s spare bedroom and her beat-up old Toyota parked out front was anything to go by, then I doubted she had the money to pay for her father’s half of the funeral.
“I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”
I held her gaze, my expression flat while a knife twisted in my gut. I’d been in pain since hearing of Mam’s passing, and it felt like I would never not be in pain again. No day would go by when I wasn’t filled with self-recrimination and regret. That was my cross to bear.
I fucking hated myself. Why did I have to be such a proud, stubborn bastard?
“Because I don’t wish to spare any expense in laying my mother to rest,” I said, leaving everything else unspoken. And you clearly can’t afford it.
“Speaking of which,” Therese put in as she carried two mugs of tea over to the table before setting them in front of Ada and me. “Mr Oaks and I have been in touch with Leonora’s solicitor, and there were some funeral instructions in her will. These all pre-date her marriage to your father, of course, so they might not reflect her most current wishes. However, if you’ll agree, some of the small details can be catered to. I’ve compiled a list.” Therese pulled a sheet of paper from her bag and handed it to Ada. Looking a little overwhelmed, Ada took the list, staring down at it as she sliced her teeth across her lower lip.
“This should be … this should be manageable,” she said, and there was something in her expression, something vulnerable that had the cold, careless organ in my chest softening towards her. Just a bit.
No. I couldn’t let myself feel empathy for Conor Rose’s daughter. That was a slippery slope to being scammed and conned, which was exactly what her family was best at. I needed to harden myself towards her, which was why I directed the conversation away from the funeral.
“So, if you’re to live here for the next six months, we’ll need to talk about your rent payments. What rate were you paying my mother?”
At this, her large brown eyes flicked up from where they’d been reading Therese’s list. Again, she sliced her teeth across her lip, and I wished she’d quit doing that. It made me remember just how fucking edible she looked naked with water dripping down her luscious body. And wait, why did she suddenly look so uncomfortable?
“Um, I was paying a hundred and fifty a month, but I was also—”
“A hundred and fifty a month ?” I cut her off, mouth agape. “What is this? 1995?”
Ada Rose’s frown was truly something to behold. I could glower like a champion, but I had nothing on her. The power of her scowl was directed solely on me. “It was mainly to cover utilities, and I know it sounds cheap, but I bought all the groceries, not to mention did most of the cooking, gardening and housework.”
I stared at her, trying to decide if she were being honest. This could be a con. An attempt to swindle six months cheap rent out of me. “I’ll be able to check my mother’s account to see how much you were really paying her.”
Ada’s glower multiplied.
“Now, now,” Therese intervened. “Miss Rose is clearly telling the truth. This house is spotless, and the flower beds out front are immaculate. Someone’s obviously been tending to them.”
I grudgingly accepted she wasn’t wrong. Mam had never kept the house as tidy as it was now, nor had she possessed a green thumb or the inclination to garden, which the person tending to the front lawn very obviously did.
“You won’t find anything in her accounts because I paid her in cash.” Ada said, and I arched an eyebrow then folded my arms.
“That’s convenient.”
This was it. My way of getting rid of her. The matter of rent was the perfect solution. All I had to do was be a total bastard and quote a number she probably couldn’t afford. Then she’d no longer be my problem, and I could focus on the grief currently eating me alive without being distracted by Conor Rose’s daughter. I wasn’t myself, and that made me vulnerable to being taken in by a pretty face hiding a blackened heart. I refused to ever be as easily manipulated and na?ve as my mother had been.
“It wasn’t convenient. It was—"
“Unfortunately for you,” I cut her off. “I’m not quite as generous as my mother, even if you have been doing chores, as you say. A house of this size in this location will fetch at least three grand a month in rent, possibly more. Since you’re only using one room, that would be a third, so let’s call it an even thousand.”
Ada’s mouth fell open, her cheeks reddening. “But … but I can’t afford that.”
“Then, sadly, I’m afraid I’ll have to reiterate my first offer, which was for you to vacate the premises within one week.”
“Sir, you’re being a little unreasona—”
Ada interrupted Therese’s attempt to come to her aid when she stood from the table, her furious brown eyes levelled on me. “Thank you, Therese, but there’s no need to argue on my behalf. If Mr Oaks wishes me gone, then I’ll go. I won’t live where I’m clearly not wanted. I’ll be out of here in one week.”
With that, she strode from the room, her shoulders tense, and her head held high. At that moment, I learned something about Ada Rose, something we unfortunately had in common.
We were both as proud and as stubborn as each other.
“That was poor form, sir,” Therese said like she was disappointed in me.
I’d always valued her ability to tell it to me straight, but in this case, I didn’t want to hear it. I’d been determined to get Ada Rose out of my life as soon as possible. So, why did I feel like a piece of shit right now?
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” I grunted as I heard the front door slam shut. Walking into the living room, I peered out the window to see Ada driving away in her dark blue Yaris that was probably the guts of twenty years old. I stood there for several moments before wandering to the back of the house where the bedrooms were located.
I found myself standing in the doorway of my old room. It was almost exactly as it had been when I was a kid. Mam had barely changed a thing, and emotion threatened to rise, but I pushed it back down.
Across the hall was the spare bedroom, which appeared to now be occupied by Ada Rose. Without thinking, I stepped inside the room and was immediately hit with the subtle fragrance of mandarins. Was that what she smelled like? The bed was neatly made, while some clothes were strewn across the armchair by the window. Peering at her meagre possessions and the soft, feminine way she’d decorated her bedroom, a whack of regret filled me. Therese had been right. The way I’d dealt with Ada was poor form. I’d allowed my grief and my feelings towards her father to turn me into an utter arsehole. Just because Conor Rose was a lowlife didn’t necessarily mean Ada was the same, even if she was the spitting image of him.
I needed to fix this.
The only question was, would she even talk to me again long enough for me to remedy the situation?