Beach House Page 3

  “Wish me luck.” Rosie mouthed and waved as she slipped through the hall and out the door. She tried to lighten her mood. Lily had finally got the tarot cards out last night and a positive outcome had been promised. Hah...if you put your faith in such things.

  Stay positive. Time will tell. She tried to ignore the little flutter of nerves at seeing Taj Brown again.

  As luck would have it, it took five attempts to get the car started and of course she caught every red light through Bondi Junction. Finally, she found a spot to park the car, only two streets away from Mr. Pepper’s office.

  She rushed up the stairs; it was quicker than taking the lift to the first floor. “They’re waiting for you in the office.” The secretary stood and led her down the hall, disapproval stiffening her stance.

  “Thank you.” Rosie smoothed her hand over her hair, tucking in the loose fine strands that would never stay in place. She bit her lip and then stopped, pushing the nerves away. There was nothing she could do about the outcome of the meeting, so there was no point being nervous. Taj Brown nerves? No more.

  She’d left the posters up and spent the last few mornings lying in bed trying to reconcile the sexy, carefree surfer with the uptight guy in the suit at the funeral. If it hadn’t been for the tangle of blond curls tied back, she could have even pretended it wasn’t him.

  “Come in, my dear. “ Mr. Pepper took her hand and shook it, and she focused on his face, trying not to look around the room. Not that she had to look. She could feel the gaze burning into her back. Turning around slowly, she nodded coolly, fighting the urge to wipe her sweaty palms on her skirt.

  God, it was so unfair that one man had the looks of a Greek god. Theodore Brown—she was not going to think of him as Taj—stood and held out his hand and a whiff of citrus aftershave floated over to her, covering up the musty smell of the room.

  “Rosie. Good to see you finally got here.” She ignored the jibe and squeezed his hand, hoping the lingering remnants of Tiger Balm on her fingers burned his palm. She hadn’t counted on the nervous jolt that ran up her arm and settled into a fluttery feeling in her chest. She willed the flutters to stay there and not head south like they had at the funeral service.

  “Would you like a cold drink? Or a cup of tea?” Mr. Pepper had to be all of seventy-five yet he fussed around like a mother hen.

  “No, thank you.” She slid into the chair he had pulled out for her at the same time as Taj sat down across the table. “I have appointments booked tonight so I have to get back as soon as I can.”

  Taj’s blond eyebrows rose above those baby blues, and he stared at her. “So your service is by appointment?”

  “Of course it is. How else would you run a business?” She stared back at him, trying not to drown in his stare. Not that it was remotely sexy. It wasn’t even friendly.

  “How else.” His voice was a low mutter and his face held a strange expression as his eyes locked on hers.

  “Congratulations, Rosie. I read in the local paper that you girls have picked up a contract with the football club.” Mr. Pepper took his seat at the head of the table and steepled his fingers in front of his wrinkled face as he smiled at her.

  She ignored the snort that came across the table.

  What is his problem?

  “Yes. So we are really hoping that once the legal stuff from Aggie’s estate is sorted out, we can stay there.”

  “The whole football team?” Taj’s interruption was filled with disbelief and it gave Rosie great pleasure to nod back to him.

  “Yes, the whole team. First grade and the reserves too.”

  He shook his head and turned to the solicitor. “Can we just get on with this please?”

  “Certainly.” Mr. Pepper shuffled his papers. “You may be wondering why the rest of the family is not here, but Agatha made it quite clear to me when she made the changes to her will, that the split with her family was irrevocable.” He turned to Taj. “With the exception of you, Theodore. She followed your career closely and was very proud of what you achieved. If your parents had been alive, I am sure she would have spoken to them eventually. I know she was very upset that there was a rift with them that hadn’t been resolved before they passed away.”

  Rosie sat quietly, confused thoughts swirling through her mind as she waited for him to begin reading. There must have been a family fall out before Aggie took her in. She’d never mentioned family. She frowned, remembering that Taj had said yesterday that he’d met her when they were children, but as much as she concentrated, she had no memory of anyone ever visiting the old house. Apart from the few old girlfriends that Aggie had stayed in touch with over the years. Rosie smiled. That group of old dears had been the first to take on Sally’s yoga when she had kicked the class off.

  Mr. Pepper began to read and she switched off as the usual legalese that said nothing filled the air. Being of sound mind...

  “Now we come to the division. I bequeath all of my worldly goods to my ward, Rosie Pemberton—”

  Rosie gasped and looked across at Taj who had placed his hands on the table and shot to his feet.

  “No way.” His expression was grim. “Did she have any idea what you were doing in our family home? Or did you just start that up when she didn’t know what was going on and couldn’t object?”

  “Theodore. Theodore. Sit down.” Mr. Pepper glared over the top of his spectacles. “Please let me finish. To my ward, Rosie Pemberton, and to my great nephew, Theodore Alfred James Brown. My house, my possessions and all of my assets—” He looked at each of them in turn and cleared his throat. “This is where we may strike some difficulties.They will be divided equally between the two beneficiaries on the condition that each of them resides in the house for a period of three months from the reading of the will.”

  Rosie closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the words sank in. Maybe all wasn’t lost. The room was quiet; you could have heard a pin drop.

  “I’ll buy you out.” Taj broke the silence. Rosie glared back at him. She’d just about had enough of Mr. Attitude over there.

  “What gives you that right? So where were you when Aggie was sick? How many times did you visit her in the home? I’ve been more family to her for the past fifteen years than anyone. Blood ties or not.” She folded her arms and sat back, her glare fixed on him. She could look at him now without her heart fluttering and her nerves skittering all over the place. “I am family. Or rather I was her family. She was all I had, and for many years, I was all she had.” Her voice broke and she dug into her handbag for a handkerchief.

  I will not cry.

  Theodore stared at her and she stared back. Damn, she should have sat on the family side at the service and made it clear, she was going to fight. Good. Hold onto that temper.

  “Please. Both of you.” Mr. Pepper spoke over them as, together, Rosie continued and Taj replied loudly.

  “We had each other.”

  “I’ll have you know—”

  Mr. Pepper’s chair scraped back on the wooden floor at the same time the door opened and the secretary peered around the edge. “Is everything all right, sir? Would you like me to call security?”

  He waved her away. “Thank you. We are fine here. Aren’t we?” His voice was stern as he looked at them as though they were naughty children.

  “I’m sorry.” Rosie’s voice was quiet.

  Taj folded his arms and scowled at her.

  Those posters would be shredded as soon as she got home.

  Chapter 5

  It had taken a lot of self-control and some sweet talking from him, but Taj had finally convinced Rosie Pemberton that they needed to calm down and consider the options open to them. That was after Mr. Pepper made it quite clear that the conditions of the will were iron-clad. If they didn’t live together in the house for three months, the property was to be sold and the money to be donated to foster children care. The wily old bird had obviously thought she’d known them both well enough to know that they would follow t
he instructions. Taj couldn’t have cared less about the house until he’d found out what it was being used for. Now his resolve was set in concrete.

  After thanking Mr. Pepper, they’d taken a silent lift ride down to the ground floor of the building to the coffee shop in the foyer. Taj wrinkled his nose as the fragrance of Rosie’s perfume filled the lift. It was unusual, but pleasant. Familiar, but he couldn’t remember where he’d smelled it before. The doors slid open when they reached the ground floor and he stood back to let her exit first, biting his lip as his knee locked. Perspiration beaded his brow as the pain shot down his calf and he drew in a deep breath. Rosie waited for him, a quizzical expression on her face. He reached out with one hand as the doors began to close and forced himself to step out, ignoring the pain and trying to hide his limp.

  “What’s wrong with your leg?” Rosie’s brow wrinkled in a frown and her voice was pleasant for the first time since Mr. Pepper had dropped the news.

  “Surfing injury.” He forced a smile onto his face and followed her to the table, holding a chair out for her. A strange feeling unfurled in his stomach when he stopped and Rosie looked up at him. She was so close he could see the gold flecks in her hazel eyes.

  “Let’s sit outside. It’s a lovely afternoon.” Her voice was light but her expression was still serious.

  And it was very pleasant out there; the late afternoon sun filtered into the small courtyard between two buildings and the empty tables were dotted with colourful umbrellas. The light breeze had dropped and the brick walls of the buildings had trapped the last warmth of the spring day. Silence reigned again as the waitress came over and took their order.

  “Last order,” she informed them. “We’ll be closing up shortly.

  Taj nodded and switched his gaze to Rosie. “What time is your...er...appointment?”

  “Six.”

  “Okay.” He spread his hands, palms up on the table and thought carefully before he spoke. They’d had their blow up in the solicitor’s office and there was nothing to be gained by arguing again. “So how are we going to play this?”

  Those hazel eyes held his for a long moment and that nervous jolt moved up into his chest. How the hell did someone with so much to offer get into the escort business?

  “I guess you’re going to have to move in.”

  “I guess I am.” Taj nodded slowly. Mr. Pepper had quite clearly laid out the terms of the will. Three months living together in the house on the hill and then they could come to a mutual agreement about what would happen after that. Taj had every intention of buying her out.

  Now that he couldn’t surf, at least he’d be near the ocean. He’d focus on developing the house into units and fill in his days with that.

  “So...” He paused. This wasn’t going to go down well. “You know I’m not happy about your business operating from the house. How about—”

  “How about what?” Her teeth were gritted but her voice was quiet.

  “How about you call a halt to it for the three months that I’m there.”

  “Really! You do realise some of us have to work for a living. And I have clients and commitments. And so do Sally and...Lily.”

  “Whoa. Stop right there.” Now his temper was building again. “Don’t go assuming that being on the surf circuit is all roses. It’s bloody hard work. And I’ve worked at it since I was sixteen.”

  “And I work hard. Just because I—we—work from home—or where we live—doesn’t mean it’s easy. I can’t just drop it and pick it up again. Besides I’ve just signed a twelve month contract with the football club.”

  She pushed her chair back and began to stand but Taj reached out and caught her hand before she could get up. That damn nervous jolt ran up his arm. “Wait. Come on. We have to work this out.”

  “Your way? So I have to give up my practice? The girls have to take a three-month break? Live on fresh air and roses?” She tried to pull her hand back but he held on tight. “You get a lovely old home on the beach to live in and we’ll all be happy? I don’t think so.”

  “Your practice? What practice?” Taj stared across the table at her and the first glimmer of uncertainty hit him.

  “How can you call it a practice?” He screwed up his eyes and lowered his voice trying to figure out what she meant by practice.

  “My practice is my job. My livelihood, my income.”

  “Tell me what you do?” Taj stared at her as his uncertainty grew. “What exactly is your work?”

  Maybe she had better spell it out for him. He was beginning to think he had made one almighty mistake.

  “I’m a therapist. I specialise in remedial massage, Reiki and lymphatic massage.”

  In a flash he realised what the familiar fragrance was. It was the massage oil that his physiotherapist used. That was the smell he’d recognized in the lift.

  Hell, he’d made a mistake.One almighty, bloody mistake.

  “And you do that in the house?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was very patient. He was beginning to feel like the biggest dolt ever.

  “And what about the others?”

  “We all work from the house. The bottom floor has three consulting rooms and a large area where Sally holds her yoga classes. One used to be the conservatory, and the other two were the living areas. The formal one and the informal one. You probably don’t remember much about the house because you haven’t been there for such a long time.”

  He ignored the cheap shot.

  “And of course...the football club.” He had made assumptions and he’d been way off base. Would he own up to what he’d thought?

  As he considered his next words, the waitress placed their coffee on the table. He dropped Rosie’s hand and pulled out his wallet and paid for the hot drinks. But a smile twitched at his lips.

  “Thank you.” Rosie tucked her hair back behind her ears and he followed the movement of her hand. Her nails were unpainted and clipped short. “Now are you going to share what’s so funny? I can’t see the slightest thing to smile about. You don’t want to live in the house and we don’t want you to.” She leaned back and folded her arms and watched him reach for the sugar as she lifted the cup of herbal tea she’d ordered. “Sugar’s bad for you...and so’s coffee. Now are you going to tell me what is amusing you?”

  “I don’t know if I should. Especially if I’m going to be living in the same house.”

  Rosie propped her chin in her hands and the first glimmer of a smile tilted her pretty lips. He loved her name. Her cheeks had a slight rose-tinge to them and her lips were a deep natural rose. She was well named.

  “Spill.” At least her voice was a bit warmer now.

  “I misunderstood when I saw your sign the other night. One of my surfing buddies told me about an escort service called Sister Something and I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

  For a moment she stared at him and then her laugh pealed through the courtyard. The waitress looked over curiously.

  “Sin Sisters? Sin Sisters that used to be across from the beach? You thought that was us?” Her shoulders shook with mirth and his coffee sloshed into the saucer as she bumped the table. “Oh my God. Wait till I tell the girls.”

  “Sin Sisters?” He watched her eyes as they came alight with laughter.

  “Yes, they used to run an escort service from one of the apartments on the corner but they moved on a few months back.”

  He smiled at her thinking how pretty she was when the anger had left her face.

  “Gosh, I don’t know whether to laugh or be cross. You thought we were looking after the football club?” Tears filled her eyes as she almost howled and her shoulders shook with laughter, and Taj caught a glimpse of the little girl that he’d met all those years ago.

  “No wonder you were so uptight. God, Aggie would roll in her grave.” Her smile disappeared and she sobered up as she mentioned his aunt, the person who was responsible for this situation of having to live together. “So do you know what she was up to? Making us li
ve in the house together?” Her eyes were wide as she held his gaze.

  “Not sure. I didn’t know her well enough. What do you think?”

  Rosie dropped her gaze and her attention was focused on her cup.

  “Probably just as bad as your assumption in a way.” She lifted her chin and stared at him. “I don’t think, I know.” She squared her shoulders and looked away as her eyes filled with tears. “She was matchmaking.”

  Chapter 6

  Rosie blinked away the tears that threatened as she thought of Aggie being up to her old tricks even from the grave. She’d known the ‘thing’ that Rosie had had for Taj and had never once let on that he was her great nephew. Maybe she was trying to make amends by this crazy condition.

  “Matchmaking?” He tilted his head to the side and she lifted her eyes back to hold his, ignoring that stupid little flutter in her chest.

  Taj Brown. Her hero was sitting across from her, his blue eyes fixed on hers, the little laughter lines making small white lines fan around his eyes in the deep tan of his face.

  “Yep, but you don’t need to run a mile. No fear of that.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “So, when do you want to move in? I guess we need to do it and then see what happens after the three months is up.” She held his gaze steadily, a gaze which was now full of warmth and humor, and the sun-bleached lock of hair that fell across his forehead sent a delicious shiver down her back. She needed to race home and pull down the posters of him that were all over the wall of her bedroom. Not because she was angry at him anymore, but because she didn’t want to risk him seeing them. There was no need for him to know she’d followed his career for years. She’d have to make that very clear to the girls and make sure they didn’t mention her teenage obsession with him.

  “I’ve got a suite at the Intercontinental over in the city, so as soon as it suits you. The quicker I move in, the sooner we can sort out selling the house. Three months will go quickly.”

  His words were like a dash of cold water. The Intercontinental? She’d forgotten how wealthy he was. And selling the house? No way.