I turned. His brothers were watching the whole exchange through the open door. This kept getting better.
They looked so rich and handsome standing there in their fine clothes. It made me feel like a sad sack of potatoes in my second hand skirt and blouse. I glared at Jake again, wishing I had stronger shoes on.
If I did, I could kick him.
"We are always looking for good people actually. If you are looking."
I narrowed my eyes and took in Jake's older brother, Jackson Delaney. He was the shrewdest businessman in the state of Tennessee. He was known for being cold and decisive. He wouldn't offer me a job out of pity.
I pulled myself up straight, lifting my chin.
"I see nothing wrong with a hard days work."
I glared at Jake who was watching me with a look of pure fascination. And admiration. And full tilt desire.
"But I don't work nights."
Jackson let out a sharp bark of laughter. Daniel was smiling too when I glanced at him. I relaxed a little.
"I like her already. Come on Eleanor. Let's introduce you to Mrs. Garretty, our housekeeper."
I followed Jackson into the house, ignoring Jake completely. I could feel him following along behind me, hovering like a mother hen.
It was with supreme satisfaction that I watched Jackson close the door to the housekeeper's office in his face.
Chapter Seven
Jake
I dumped a shot of bourbon into my eggnog. Well, maybe a bit more than a shot. I was getting drunk. But not quite drunk enough for this. Not yet anyway. It was a long-standing tradition, one our mother had adored. But I had always hated it, even as a child.
The annual Delancey Stables Christmas party.
A celebration of rich old fat cats and the reigning class of Brentwood, Tennessee. Plus horse people of course. I didn't mind the horse people so much, even if they were mostly rich as hell. At least they worked for a living.
Elle was here too somewhere. She'd been here for two weeks now. Driving me crazy by always being in view but just out of reach. She had gotten very good at ignoring me.
I'd had fantasies of having her at my beck and call. Close at hand so I could make my moves on her. Land her quickly and painlessly. Not that I usually needed moves to get a girl in bed. Even one as gorgeous as Elle.
Usually I just had to snap my fingers. I tried to imagine Elle running over and plopping her sweet ass in my lap because I told her to come. Kind of like a stunningly beautiful, proud, ornery but obedient kitty cat.
I snorted out loud, earning me a reproving look from one of my great aunts.
Fat chance.
There was no comparison anyway. There simply weren't any women as good looking as her. Not that I'd seen anyway. And she seemed blissfully unconcerned with how she looked, or the effect she was having on me. She was just worried about keeping a roof over her head.
Not that I could fault her for that.
Even at my lowest point, I'd always had this place to come back to. I had just been playing at roughing it really. I'd always known I had a safe haven to come back to if I needed it.
Elle didn't have that. She was on her own. And damn if I wasn't impressed by her tenacity.
She'd proven herself to be a hard worker. The staff all loved her. And they all seemed to be on her side in the battle of the sexes that was waging between us.
It was more than a battle. It was an all out war.
It all boiled down to one thing: I wanted sex. And she wasn't giving it to me.
I laughed again, proving to everyone in earshot that I was the crazy Delancey brother. Not that I gave a damn. At least I wasn't disappointing them. It was pretty much what was expected of me at this point.
Why buck tradition by acting normal? I was the bad brother, and fiercely proud of it. At least, I always had been. I wouldn't mind it if Elle saw more to me than that though.
I finished my drink and wandered off to look for something else to imbibe. Or Elle, so I could leer at her. I passed through the living room to see my father holding court in his wheelchair and turned toward the library. That's when I heard it.
Someone was singing.
At first I thought it was a recording, the voice was so beautiful. Some vintage record of a classic jazz singer. But then the richness of it washed over me, making me realize someone was singing here. Now.
An angel.
The voice lifted higher, soaring above the party noises. It was sweet but not pure. No, there was a rich, husky quality to it. It sounded like smoke.
A bolder settled in my stomach.
Goosebumps broke out on my arms.
I knew even before I turned the corner who I would see, her hip pressed jauntily against the piano while Daniel played holiday music. Of course. It had to be her.
It was.
Elle.
I stared at her hungrily while the rest of the world disappeared. Her voice went straight through me, like a knife. A sweet soul-stirring knife. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.