Cassie Miles - In the Manor with the Millionaire

Panic flashed inside her head. A faint shimmer of daylight came around the edge of the door, and she clawed at the light as if she could pry this heavy door open.

Drawing back her fists, she hammered against the door. “Alma. Help. We’re trapped in the basement. Help.”

Behind her, she heard Duncan start up the stairs. She couldn’t allow him to climb. In the darkness, balance was precarious, and Duncan wasn’t like other kids. She couldn’t hold his arm and keep him from falling, couldn’t touch him at all.

“Wait,” she said. “I’m coming back down.”

Quickly, she descended. They’d just have to wait until they were found. Not much of a plan, but it was all she had. She sat beside Duncan on the second step from the bottom. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll count to five and you call for help. Then you count for me. Start now.”

He yelled at the top of his lungs.

Then it was her turn. Screaming felt good. Her tension loosened. After she caught her breath, she said, “Now, we wait. Somebody will find us.”

“My mama is already here,” he said quietly. “She takes care of me. Whenever I get in trouble, my mama is close. She promised. She’s always close.”

His childlike faith touched her heart. “Your mama must be a very good woman. Can you tell me about her?”

“Soft and pretty. Even when she was crying, she smiled at me.”

“She loved you,” Madeline said. “And your daddy loves you, too.”

“So do you,” he said confidently. “From the first time you saw me.”

In spite of her fear, Madeline breathed more easily. She should have been the one comforting him. Instead, this young boy lightened the weight of the terrible darkness with his surprising optimism. “You’re very lovable.”

“And brave.”

“Let’s yell again. Go.”

At the end of his five seconds of shouting, the door at the top of the staircase opened. Daylight poured down with blinding, wonderful brilliance. Silhouetted in that light was the powerful masculine form of Blake Monroe.

“What the hell is going on?” he growled.

“Danger,” Duncan yelled.

She heard Blake flick the light switch. “What’s wrong with the lights?”

Duncan scrambled up the wooden staircase, and she followed. Stepping into the kitchen, she inhaled the light and warmth. This must be how it felt to escape from being buried alive. As she stepped away from the basement door, she wiped the clammy sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. She and Duncan were free. No harm done.

When she saw the expression on Blake’s face, her sense of relief vanished like seeds on the wind. The friendly camaraderie of this morning had been replaced by tight- lipped anger. “I want an explanation,” he said.

She pushed her glasses up on her nose and cleared her throat. “Duncan and I decided to explore one room of the house before lunchtime.”

“And you chose the basement.” His hazel eyes flared. “There’s all kinds of crap down there. Damn it, Madeline. What the hell were you thinking?”

She wouldn’t blame this dreadful excursion on Duncan’s insistence that they go to the basement. She was the person in charge. “We were fine until the door slammed shut. It was locked.”

His brows arched in disbelief. He went down a step to test the doorknob, and the horrible darkness crawled up his leg. She was tempted, like Duncan, to warn him. To shout the word danger until her lungs burst.

Blake jiggled the knob. “It’s sticking but not locked. You must have twisted it the wrong way.”

She hadn’t turned the knob wrong. That door had been locked. “Then the lights went out.”

“There’s a rational explanation. I have a crew of electricians working today.”

She glanced toward Duncan, who stood silently, staring down at the toes of his sneakers. She didn’t want to frighten the boy with her suspicions about Dr. Fisher or being stalked by the serial killer, but they hadn’t been trapped by accident.

Blake yanked the door shut with a resounding slam and took a step toward her. Anger rolled off him in hot, turbulent waves.

Frankly, she couldn’t blame him. It appeared that she’d made an irresponsible decision. When he spoke, his voice was low and ominous, like the rumble of an approaching freight train. And she was tied to the tracks. “You’re supposed to be teaching my son. Not leading him into a potentially dangerous situation.”

“All of life is potentially risky,” she said in her defense. “Children need to explore and grow. New experiences are—”

“Stop.” He held up a hand to halt her flow of words. “I don’t need a lecture.”

“Perhaps I’m not explaining well.”

“You’re fired, Madeline.”

“What?” She took a step backward. Perhaps she deserved a reprimand, but not this.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet. Peeling off a hundred-dollar bill, he slapped it down on the counter. “This should cover your expenses. Pack your things and get out.”

Looking past his right shoulder, she saw Alma enter through the back door with a couple of grocery bags in her arms. The housekeeper wouldn’t be happy about Madeline being fired. Nor would Duncan.

But Blake was the boss. And his attitude showed no willingness to negotiate.

Though she would have liked to refuse his money, pride was not an option. She was too broke. With a weak sigh, she reached for the bill.

“Daddy, no.” Duncan rushed across the kitchen and wrapped his skinny arms around his father’s waist. “I like Madeline. I want her to stay.”

Blake’s eyes widened in surprise, and she knew that her own expression mirrored his. They were both stunned by this minor miracle. Duncan was touching his father, clinging to him.

As Blake stroked his son’s shoulders with an amazing tenderness, she wondered how long it had been since Duncan had allowed him to come close.

The boy looked up at him. “Please, Daddy.”

Blake squatted down to his son’s level. Though Duncan’s eyes were bright blue and his hair was a lighter shade of blond, the physical resemblance between father and son resonated.

Blake asked, “Do you want Madeline to stay?”

The hint of a smile touched Duncan’s mouth. He reached toward his father’s face with his gloved hand and patted Blake’s cheek. “I like her.”

With the slow, careful, deliberate motions used to approach a feral creature, Blake enclosed his son in a yearning embrace. A moment ago, he’d been all arrogance and hostility. Now, he exuded pure love.

Empathy brought Madeline close to tears. Her hand covered her mouth. Staying at Beacon Manor was like riding an emotional roller coaster. In the basement, she’d been terrified. Facing Blake’s rage, she was defensive and intimidated. As she watched the tenderness between father and son, her heart swelled.

The front doorbell rang.

“Get the door,” Blake said to her.

Hadn’t she just been fired? “I don’t—”

“You’re not fired. You’re still Duncan’s teacher. Now, answer the door.”

Not much of an apology, but she’d take it. She needed this job. Straightening her shoulders, she walked down the corridor to the front door.

Standing at the entryway were two women. A cheerful smile fitted naturally on the attractive face of a slender lady in a stylish ivory suit with gray-blue piping that matched the color of her eyes. Her short, tawny hair whisked neatly in the breeze. Confidently, she introduced herself. “I’m Beatrice Wells, the mayor’s wife.”

Madeline opened the door wider to invite them inside. “I’m Madeline Douglas. Duncan’s teacher.”

When she held out her hand, she noticed the smears of dirt from crawling around in the basement and quickly pulled her hand back. “I should wait to shake your hand until I’ve had a chance to wash up.”