Chapter 3
3
D ylan stalked into his mother’s sitting room after a brief knock on the door.
Liz Harmon looked up from the newspaper she had spread across the table. “Good morning, darling. Sleep well?”
With a perfunctory nod, he sat opposite her. “I met the butler.”
His mother’s face lit up. “Isn’t Sam wonderful? She came highly recommended.”
“From where? Butlers-R-Us?”
“Don’t take that tone with me, young man. What seems to be the problem?”
Dylan fiddled with the knife-edge crease of his pants. “She’s totally unsuitable. Too young, too feisty, too—“
“Beautiful?” Liz interrupted. “You did notice, didn’t you, or has all work and no play made you a dull boy?”
A vision of Sam and those startling green eyes daring him to flirt flashed into his head. He’d tried to be the consummate professional, a boss in charge. Though thankfully, she’d been looking at his face and not lower, where the evidence of how she affected him would have been plain to see beneath the cotton towel.
“I noticed,” he muttered, understatement of the year. “Though what her looks have to do with it, I’ll never know. It’s her qualifications I’m interested in.”
Liz flashed one of her knowing smiles, the kind she’d been bestowing since he ate his first bug against her instructions and had thrown up, at four years of age. “She came highly recommended. I spoke with Ebony Larkin, her main referee.”
His eyebrows shot up. “She’s worked for the Larkin’s?”
Liz nodded. “Trust me, darling. I wouldn’t have hired just anybody to be your butler. I know how much you need the help.”
“I’m doing fine on my own, Mother.”
“No, you’re not. Between running the business, inspecting the lands around Budgeree, and looking after the family, you are worn out.”
She paused, and he waited for the inevitable reference to his single status. Predictably, his mother didn’t disappoint.
“Besides, you never have time for fun anymore. When are you going to meet a nice, young woman to make your life complete?”
“My life is complete and I like it just the way it is, thanks very much.”
He ignored the bitterness that arose whenever the subject of women entered their conversations. He’d tried the relationship merry-go-round and had hopped off as soon as humanly possible, managing to get his heart trampled in the process.
As far as he was concerned, women and serious commitment didn’t belong in the same sentence, especially with females who looked good, had the right family credentials, yet lied through their expensively capped teeth to get what they wanted. Which is his case, happened to be the Harmon name and fortune.
He’d worked too damn hard to let his family’s wealth fall into unscrupulous hands.
“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Son. You’ve taken this business to the next level all on your own.”
“But Dad would’ve wanted more.”
Hell, his ambitious father wouldn’t have stopped until he owned the entire state of Victoria and then some.
“He would’ve wanted you to be happy, not to run yourself into the ground.” She didn’t have to add, ‘like he did’.
His workaholic father had taken his work obligations to new levels, driving the family business to skyrocketing profit margins but himself into an early grave in the process.
Dylan still missed him a decade later.
“Besides, don’t you think you’re taking the role of family protector a tad too seriously? Most of us can take care of ourselves, you know.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Then why is Meg running around placing racy underwear in my drawer? And why is Allie traipsing round the world like a lost soul?”
He stared at his mother, noting her wrinkle-free skin, the clear eyes, the black hair with barely a gray streak. “Not to mention you.”
The corners of Liz’s mouth twitched. “Your nieces are more than capable of taking care of themselves. Besides, what have I done?”
He tried a frown and failed. “You’re trying to match-make again and I’m not interested.”
“I’m not trying anything. If you’ve got romantic thoughts where the new butler is concerned, that’s not my doing.”
“The butler ?”
Sam Piper and him, romantically linked? Not a hope in hell.
He shook his head, trying to ignore her alluring image again. “No, Mother, I was talking about Monique and that dinner party you’ve organised. Didn’t you think I’d see through the ruse?”
This time, Liz laughed outright. “You’re getting paranoid. There’s no ruse, no hidden agendas. I just thought it was time we got together with our oldest family friends. If you find Monique attractive, that’s up to you.”
Funnily enough, the thought of spending a sophisticated evening dining with the exquisite Monique Taylor and her parents didn’t hold half the appeal it once did. He’d grown up with the leggy brunette and dabbled in a kiss or two when they reached their late teens, but he’d never been interested in taking it further. Though Monique was beautiful, educated, and attuned to his world, there was no spark to light his fire. Not that she hadn’t tried, many times.
Dylan relented. “Okay, it will be nice to catch up with the Taylor’s, but just to let you know, there won’t be any romance between Monique and I, ever. She isn’t my type.”
His mother was no slouch when it came to matchmaking her only son and she latched onto his last words in a flash. “Then what is your type?”
Petite women with short blonde curls, green eyes he could drown in, and a cheeky smirk that wouldn’t quit.
The thought popped unbidden into his mind and he wondered if he’d lost a grip on reality since he laid eyes on his new butler.
He stood quickly and made for the door. “Goodbye, Mother. I have a meeting scheduled.”
Liz smiled knowingly. “Run all you like, Son, but you can’t hide from love forever.”
Dylan refrained from answering. The day he fell in love would be the day he surrendered his sanity and he had no intention of doing that. He had too much to do to fulfil his dad’s wishes, the one driving force that kept him going these days.
Him, in love?
Not a hope in hell.