A Winter's Rose Read Online Free PDF Page B

“You handled me, didn’t you? Besides, I’m desperate. See you in the morning, Princess.”
    Desperate, Bentley thought, watching as he stepped into the elevator and the doors swished shut. Now, there was a commendation. For long moments she stood in the doorway staring at the empty hall, his business card clutched in her hand.
    She shook her head and stepped into her suite, closing the door behind her. He’d said she’d handled him. Had she? She felt like a punch-drunk boxer, too tired to go another round, but too dazed to understand the time had come to call it quits.
    But, in a way, she had won. If she could go the distance with Chloe, Jackson would give her a real job at Baysafe. She would have earned that job. And that felt good. Really good. She smiled.
    All she had to do was figure out how to cope with Chloe. How hard could it be? She had been Chloe’s age once. And a baby-sitter couldn’t be that different from a nanny, and she’d certainly had enough of those growing up.
    But that didn’t make her an expert, just as having once been a child didn’t make every adult a good parent, she reminded herself.
    A thread of self-doubt worming through her, Bentley crossed to her music box look-alike. Picking up the box, she wound it and watched the figure circle the base. David had told her that it was for the best she hadn’t been able to conceive, because she would have been a terrible mother. She didn’t know why he’d said that, didn’t know what he’d based his opinion on. The comment had been just another of his cruelties, another of his calculated blows to her self-esteem. Bentley tightened her fingers on the music box’s base. In truth, she’d been too devastated to even ask.
    She still was.
    She shook her head and fought back tears, focusing again on her look-alike belle. Bentley smiled, somehow comforted by the figure. David was wrong. She would prove it—to herself, to the world. Tomorrow she would win Chloe’s trust and affection, and earn Jackson’s respect.
    * * *
    Tomorrow came fast, and by seven forty-five the next morning, Bentley was scared witless—over baby-sitting a thirteen-year-old. She shook her head, feeling more than a bit ridiculous at admitting it, even if only to herself.
    Shaking her head again, Bentley turned onto a lovely street lined with oleander bushes and restored Victorian cottages. The concierge had called this the Silk Stocking district. A smile pulled at her mouth. Jackson Reese lived in the Silk Stocking district? It just didn’t fit.
    But the house did. Bentley pulled to a stop in front of his home, a raised Victorian cottage with a minimum of gingerbread and a wide, shaded front gallery. She turned off her car and took a moment to study it. He’d left the yard to nature, in a sort of contained wildness. Two large live oaks dominated his property, and oleander bushes, climbing vines and winter blossoms abounded in disordered profusion. Although far from the pristine, manicured lawns and landscaping of the surrounding homes, his garden was beautiful. It reminded her of him.
    Disconcerted by the thought, Bentley checked her appearance in the mirror, then took a deep breath. This was it. Stepping out of the car, she headed up the walk. Inset into his front door were two leaded glass panels, and the diamonds of glass caught and splintered the light. She pressed the buzzer.
    Moments later Chloe answered the bell, her expression defiant. When Bentley smiled Chloe glared at her, then without speaking turned and stalked into the house. So much for fantasies about winning trust and friendship, Bentley thought, waiting at the open door a moment before following the youngster inside.
    The house was charming, with high ceilings and lovingly restored woodwork and floors. Sun spilled through the abundance of windows, dappling the interior in warmth and light. Bentley stopped in the middle of the front