Page 10 of Monster Among the Roses (Fairy Tale Quartet 1)

That made my suspicions rise. I squinted at him. “You knew she wouldn’t want me in her garden.”

Mr. Nash glanced over before smiling brightly. “Of course.”

Shaking my head, I had to ask, “Then why did you send me in there?”

With a sigh, the older man settled back, deeper into his chair, as if his explanation was too long and complicated to answer sitting upri

ght. But all he said was, “Because I knew you two would run into each other if you went in.”

Huh? “I don’t understand.”

He nodded as if sympathizing with my confusion. “You know, back in the regency era, affluent spinsters and widows paid nice young women to come sit with them and be their companions.”

Okay. That explained…well, nothing.

“But if you try anything like that these days,” he added with an irritated sniff, “it’s barbaric and you’re accused of buying someone friends.”

When I squinted, totally lost, Henry gave a small growl. “My Izzy hasn’t left the property except for doctor’s appointments and the rare special occasion in eight years. Eight years. She’s turned herself into a hermit because of those damn scars, and I hate it. It’s no way to live. She says she’s not lonely, but I know my child. And she’s lonely. I’ve tried to bring in young women her age to keep her company, but she…”

He shook his head, looking vaguely ashamed.

My ultimate purpose here finally began to sink in. But it seemed preposterous, so I shook my head, even as I said, “Sir, if you brought me here to befriend you daughter, why didn’t you just say so from the beginning?”

And why did he seem so pleased that my first encounter with her had ended disastrously? I’d done the very opposite of befriend her.

“Because that’s not why you’re here,” he answered, actually answering nothing. “Izzy was right; a paid companion wouldn’t ensure genuine friendship for her. And that’s what she needs—someone who actually likes her. If she had anything less, it would only leave her feeling more hollow. So I don’t want you to befriend her.”

Damn, I was back to being confused again. “You don’t?”

“Of course not. I’m not stupid. No matter how much he might wish it, a father can’t force anyone to love his child, or even like her.” His expression took on a melancholy despondency. “But I can provide her with…I don’t know, entertainment, maybe. Which made me think maybe you could…”

I shook my head, not at all sure what I could do to entertain Isobel Nash. “You thought I could what?”

His shoulders slumped. “I’m not sure, entirely, just…break up the monotony of her day. Give her contact with someone other than family. Interrupt her routine, annoy her, make her mad, make her smile, make her laugh, make her shout, I don’t care, just…just make her feel again. Take away her loneliness and be genuine about it.” After a pause for thought, he lifted a finger. “The only thing I forbid you to do is hurt her. If you hurt her, you’re gone. No exceptions.”

I nodded. No way would I ever do anything to hurt Henry Nash’s daughter. But I was still trying to figure out what exactly I was supposed to do to “entertain” her.

“If nothing else…” Henry reached for the coffee cup sitting on his desk to take a deliberate sip. Then he flushed and shrugged ruefully. “Well, you’re a good-looking kid. Maybe she’ll enjoy just watching you work. She’s already given away how pleasing she finds your appearance.”

My mouth gaped open, stupidly, not remembering that moment at all. “She did?”

Mr. Nash grinned. “Of course. When she said ‘especially him,’ the way she did, she outed herself. Your handsomeness made her feel insecure.”

I shook my head, not gleaning that perspective from her comment at all. Glancing at her father as if he’d lost his marbles, I murmured, “I’m not so sure that’s what she meant by that.”

“But it was,” Nash argued cheerfully. “I know my Izzy, and you intimidated her.” I started to shake my head again, but he pointed at me. “You did. You’re a pretty person who didn’t seem bothered by her scars.”

“I wasn’t,” I assured him.

“Exactly. And that’s why I need you. You’re just the thing I want throwing a wrench into her gears and forcing her from her comfort zone. Since her scars don’t adversely affect you, I know you won’t make her feel like a freak, yet you won’t back down from any challenge she issues, and she’ll keep coming back for more because she’s attracted to you.”

Beginning to maybe believe his claim that Isobel thought I looked good, a rush of endorphins took control of me, whooshing through my bloodstream and suddenly making me feel very alive. I remembered how close she’d gotten in the rose garden and how good she’d smelled. The urge to kiss that sassy red mouth of hers to shut her up properly had been strong. It was starting to stir again.

In fact—

I paused, realizing what this whole thing actually meant. Dear God, I’d been hired to be a piece of meaningless pretty for a lonely mutilated woman.

I cleared my throat, not sure what to make of that. Then again, I’d come here earlier, worrying Mr. Nash might want to make me his sex slave, so technically this was a lot more relieving. A hell of a lot more relieving, since I was actually attracted to Isobel in return, and he wasn’t asking me to do anything sexual. But then…that part also made me more uncomfortable. What if I crossed a line I knew I shouldn’t? Nothing in Mr. Nash’s manner suggested he wanted me to actually make an advance toward her. But it would be too easy to fall into flirt mode now that I knew my purpose was to pay attention to her.

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