Her Man Friday by Elizabeth Bevarly Read Free Book Online Page A

to find that Mr. Freiberger was glaring at her. "I didn't mean to imply that—"
    "Chloe's secret is safe with me," he interrupted her. "If that's what you were worried about. The last thing a fourteen-year-old girl needs is to have talk like that circulating about her."
    Actually, talk like that was the least of Chloe's worries, Lily thought. But there was no reason to tell Mr. Freiberger about all that. "Thank you for your discretion," she said instead.
    "How long has she been living here?"
    Lily couldn't imagine why he would be interested in such a thing, but she told him, "About a year and a half now."
    He nodded slowly, and she got the feeling it was because he was thinking hard about something. And although she was reluctant to interrupt him, it suddenly occurred to her that the two of them were alone in Mrs. Puddleduck's room, and his forearms really were quite, quite sexy, and she hadn't had a date in quite, quite some time, so it would probably be better for them to retreat to their previous positions pronto, mainly because Schuyler's office and the kitchen were in two separate wings of the house, and at the moment, Lily felt an intense need to be far, far away from Mr. Freiberger and his forearms.
    So she said, "Would you like to come to the kitchen for a cup of tea?"
    Thankfully—at least, she
tried
to convince herself that she was thankful of the fact—Mr. Freiberger declined her invitation. "Thank you, Miss Rigby, but I really should go back to my work. I was right in the middle of something very interesting when I heard Mrs. Puddleduck scream."
    Lily nodded. "Some other time then."
    He dipped his head forward a bit in acknowledgment. "I think I'd like that."
    A whiff of formaldehyde reminded her that there was one last matter to which she needed to attend. After glancing briefly over her shoulder, she said, "I'll, uh, I'll have Mr. Tooley, the groundskeeper, see to the, uh, the spleen. Perhaps he could put it in the compost bin. I'll need to order a new mattress, as well." Until then, she thought, the nanny could claim one of the guest rooms.
    "Disposing of the evidence?" Mr. Freiberger asked. The look on his face suggested that he was only half-joking.
    Lily expelled a restless breath. "Look, I won't lie to you. Chloe is more than a handful. But deep down, she is a good kid. She's just had some rough breaks, you know?"
    "What kind of rough breaks?"
    Unwilling to divulge the particulars of Chloe's young life to a man she'd just met—after all, even juvenile delinquents were entitled to some privacy—Lily only said, "Let's just say she has a lot of issues to work out, shall we? Despite what Mrs. Puddleduck said, Chloe's not dangerous."
    If nothing else, Lily was certain about that. Even after a life fraught with insecurity, instability, and perhaps even subtle abuse, Chloe Sandusky was, in essence, a good kid. She was just crying out for attention, and, as a gifted child—as an
extremely
gifted child, Lily amended—she was simply much more effective than other kids at going about such a thing.
    "I'll hold you to that," Mr. Freiberger said.
    Oh, goody, Lily thought. And then maybe he'd hold her to himself.
    She bit back a sigh at the thought and extended her arm toward the door, indicating he should precede her. But he only smiled and mimicked her gesture, suggesting that she should go first instead. So Lily strode forward with the bookkeeper right behind her. And, with no small effort, she somehow managed to keep from following him when they parted ways at the foot of the stairs. Instead, with a brief nod to his forearms—uh, to him—she returned to her cold tea, and warm thoughts, in the kitchen alone.
----
Chapter Four

    At the foot of the stairs, Leo kept his gaze trained on Lily Rigby until she was completely out of sight. Not so much because he didn't trust her, but because she had a way of walking that a man simply could not ignore. Yeah, a walk that could start fights and stop traffic, no doubt