Unveiled, Page 22

  screeches out of the parking space. I conclude very quickly that he wants to get this journey over with as soon as possible and limit the time my dear grandmother has to screw around with his perfect world. God forbid if she could reach the temperature controls up front. I inwardly laugh. And he wanted to move her into his flat? Holy shit, he’d have a seizure every five minutes!

  There are continuous hoots of glee coming from Nan as Miller zips and weaves through the London traffic, but her excitement dulls to nothing when she catches sight of my left hand as it reaches up to rest on the seat in front of me. I realise what’s holding her attention straightaway. She reaches across the car and takes my hand, pulling it towards her and studying it quietly. I can do nothing more than let her, bracing myself for her reaction. I turn pleading eyes up to the rearview mirror and find Miller watching intermittently between keeping an eye on the road.

  ‘Hmmm,’ she hums, rubbing across the peak of my ring with the pad of her thumb. ‘So, Miller, when are you marrying my beautiful granddaughter?’ Her raised grey eyebrows are quickly on me, despite the question being directed at Miller, and I shrink into the leather seat. He better think of something quick-sharp, because I haven’t the foggiest idea of what to tell her. I need her to stop looking at me like that. My cheeks are flaming red-hot and my throat is closing off under the pressure, making speech impossible. ‘Well?’ she prompts.

  ‘I’m not.’ Miller’s short, sharp response makes everything die inside. He has no problem telling my spunky nan, and while I understand him, I’m not sure she will. She’s old school.

  ‘Why ever not?’ She sounds offended, almost angry, and I consider the possibility of her reaching forward and smacking the back of Miller’s head. She probably would. ‘What’s wrong with her?’

  I’d laugh if I could find air to draw breath. What’s wrong with me? Everything!

  ‘That ring is a sign of my love, Mrs Taylor. My eternal love.’

  ‘That’s all good and well, but what’s it doing on her wedding finger?’

  ‘Because your beautiful ring holds position on her right hand and I wouldn’t be so disrespectful as to ask her to replace what’s been in her life for longer than me.’

  I swell with pride and Nan stutters her astonishment. ‘Can’t we just swap them?’

  ‘Are you trying to marry me off?’ I ask, finally finding some words.

  ‘So?’ she huffs, her nose put firmly out of joint, not even Miller’s respectful explanation diluting her displeasure. ‘You plan on living in sin forever?’

  Her absent-minded choice of word resonates deeply, and I find mine and Miller’s eyes locked together in the mirror, mine wide, his wary.

  Sin.

  There are so many sinful things she’s unaware of, things that my poor mind is struggling to deal with. I wouldn’t have exposed her to it before, no matter how sassy and spunky she might be, and I’m most certainly not exposing her to it now. Not with her being so delicate after her heart attack, though you’d never know it. Being hospitalised for the past few days seems to have injected even more sass into her Taylor bones.

  Miller returns his eyes to the road, and I remain tense in my seat, but Nan keeps expectant eyes on my OCD-suffering, ex-prostitute, notorious male ex-escort . . .

  I sigh. My mind hasn’t the strength to even mentally list the endless sinful things that Miller was.

  ‘I plan on worshipping your granddaughter for the rest of my life, Mrs Taylor,’ Miller says quietly, yet Nan’s wistful coo indicates she heard it perfectly, and that might just be good enough. It is for me, and though I constantly tell myself no one else matters, Nan’s approval really does. I think I have it. I’ll just have to keep telling myself that her lacking knowledge is of no consequence, that her opinion wouldn’t change in the least bit if she knew every sordid detail.

  ‘Home sweet home, my lady.’ Miller breaks into my stray thoughts as we pull up to Nan’s house. I notice George and Gregory on the pavement outside, both men sitting on the low wall at the end of our front garden, both men looking apprehensive. I haven’t the time or energy to waste on worrying about Miller and Gregory in such close proximity. They just better behave.

  ‘What are they doing here?’ Nan grumbles, making no attempt to get out, instead waiting for Miller to open the door for her. She’s not fooling me. She’s loving all of the special treatment, not that she doesn’t get it under normal circumstances. ‘I’m not an invalid!’

  ‘I beg to differ,’ Miller retorts firmly, offering his hand, which she takes on a little scowl. ‘Less of the sass, Mrs Taylor.’

  I chuckle to myself as I get out of the car and join them on the pavement, hearing Nan huffing and puffing all over Miller. ‘The cheek!’

  ‘Olivia’s certainly learned from the best of them,’ he grumbles, giving Nan up to George when he steps forward, a worried look all over his old round face.

  ‘How are you feeling, Josephine?’ George says, taking Nan’s arm.

  ‘I’m fine!’ She accepts Georges arm, indicating her need for support, and lets him lead her up the garden path. ‘How are you, Gregory?’ she asks as she passes him. ‘And Ben?’

  He’s told her? I look to my friend, as does Miller, as does George. Four sets of eyes are all resting on Gregory, spiking a string of uncomfortable shifting movements to play out before us. His boots scuff the concrete, he flicks us all wide eyes, and we all just stand staring at the poor guy, waiting for his reply. He coughs. ‘Um, yeah, fine. We’re fine. How are you, Nan?’

  ‘Perfect,’ she replies in an instant, and nudges George on his way. ‘Let’s make some tea.’

  Everyone jumps back into action and follows Nan and George towards the house, but I quickly take over the lead so I can open the front door, allowing them all to pass as I hold it open. The deep inhale that she takes as she’s helped over the threshold and absorbs the familiarity of her home fills me with bliss that could rival the wonderful place that Miller takes me to when I’m the sole focus of his attention. And that’s some mighty blissful place. Having her home, seeing and hearing her sass, it’s all stamping out other more challenging matters that I’m currently doing anything to avoid dealing with.

  Gregory wanders in, giving me a cheeky wink that escalates my happiness, followed by Miller, who takes over my hold of the door and nods for me to continue. ‘Such a gentleman,’ I tease, turning to see Nan now guiding George to the kitchen at the back of the house, when she should be settling on the couch or maybe even going to bed. This is going to be hard work. She’s impossible! On a roll of my eyes, I make chase, set on nailing down a few rules, but a sharp slap of my arse stops me dead in my tracks. The sting is instant and I reach to rub the soreness away as I whirl around, finding Miller pushing the door closed.

  ‘Ouch!’ Ouch? I have no other words. Miller Hart – my man whose manners put royalty to shame, just slapped my arse? Not patted. Slapped. And a stinger of a slap, too.

  A perfectly straight face slowly turns to me, and he inhales as he smoothes down his suit, taking his usual ridiculous time and care, while I remain totally dumbfounded before him, waiting for . . . something . . . anything.

  ‘Give me something!’ I blurt, still rubbing at my backside.

  He finishes up perfecting his perfect suit, then sweeps his perfect hair from the goddamn perfect face. His eyes darken. My legs cross in my standing position. ‘Another one?’ he asks casually, a glint of mischief in his beautiful eyes.

  I take a deep breath and hold it, biting at my bottom lip furiously. What’s gotten into him? Is Nan rubbing off on him?

  ‘What I’d actually like to do is sink my teeth into that gorgeous, cute arse.’

  All breath leaves my lungs and sexual anticipation devours me. The bastard. He has no intention whatsoever of finishing what he’s started. But that doesn’t zap my craving or my need. Damn him!

  He nears, slowly, like he’s on the prowl, my eyes following him until he’s breathing down on me. ‘Sweet Nan isn
’t in any fit state to be brandishing a carving knife.’ He wiggles a suggestive eyebrow. It’s probably the most unlike-Miller action of all the unlike-Miller actions I’ve experienced as our relationship has grown. I can’t help myself. I fall to pieces before him, but he doesn’t recoil in offense like I expect him to. He starts laughing, too, and while my desperate desire for him has faded somewhat, the overwhelming happiness coursing through me is a good compromise.

  ‘Don’t be so sure.’ I chuckle as he takes my waist and turns me in his arms, starting to guide me down the hall with his chin resting on my shoulder. ‘I think her sass has multiplied as a result of all that medication.’

  He pushes his mouth to my ear. It has me closing my eyes and soaking up every delicious piece of him touching me. ‘I concur,’ he whispers, nibbling at my lobe.

  I don’t need to fight the flames of desire from my veins because they turn to flames of madness the moment we fall into the kitchen and I catch Nan filling the kettle at the sink. ‘Nan!’

  ‘I tried!’ George gasps, throwing exasperated arms into the air as he sits. ‘She’s having none of it!’

  ‘Me too,’ Gregory interjects, just to put me firmly in the picture, his arse dropping to a chair at the kitchen table. He looks over at me, shaking his head. ‘I’m not up for a verbal beating down. I’ve had enough physical ones.’

  Guilt plagues me for a split second as a result of my best friend’s curt quip, before I’m reminded of my grievance when the kettle clatters against the edge of the sink. ‘For God’s sake!’ I shout, zooming across the kitchen when she totters slightly. Miller’s in quick pursuit, and I hear the scraping of two chairs, indicating Gregory’s and George’s quick movements. ‘Why can’t you just listen?’ I yell, anger and worry all mixing together, making me shake as I hold her.

  ‘Stop fussing!’ she barks, trying to bat my grappling hands away. ‘I’m no invalid!’

  It takes every modicum of strength not to scream my frustration at her, and I turn my helpless eyes to Miller, surprised to see annoyance rife on his lovely face. His lips straighten, which would usually be cause for concern, but right now I’m silently willing him to help rein in my stubborn grandmother.

  ‘Here,’ he mutters impatiently, removing the kettle from her hands and slamming it down before taking possession of Nan. ‘You will sit, Mrs Taylor.’ He guides a bewildered Nan past a stunned George and Gregory and sits her in a chair. She’s looking up at Miller from her seated position with wary eyes as he towers over her, daring her to defy him. She’s speechless, her mouth dropped open in shock. Miller drags in a long, calming pull of breath, hitches up his trousers slightly at the thighs, then lowers to his haunches before her. Nan’s eyes follow him down until they’re level. She remains silent, and so do the rest of us.

  ‘You will do as you’re told,’ Miller begins, quickly raising a hand and placing a finger over her lips when she inhales, ready to fire back some sass. ‘Nuh-uh-uh,’ Miller cuts in firmly. I might not be able to see his face, but I can see the slight warning cock of his head, and I know for sure she’s also being held in place with equally warning eyes. Miller slowly, carefully removes his finger and she immediately purses her lips indignantly.

  ‘Quite the bossy man, aren’t you?’

  ‘You have no idea, Mrs Taylor.’

  Nan’s eyes flip to mine, searching for . . . I don’t know what, but I know I’m giving her something, even if I’m trying my hardest not to. My cheeks are flushing furiously. I damn them to hell for letting me down and shift under her curious gaze.

  ‘Mrs Taylor,’ Miller says quietly, saving me from further probing eyes when she returns her attention to him. ‘I’m quite familiar with the Taylor sass.’ He jabs a thumb over his shoulder in my general direction, making me want to announce that it’s only utilised in special circumstances. But I refrain. Wisely. ‘I’ve become quite accustomed to it, in fact.’

  ‘Bully for you,’ Nan mutters, raising her nose in the air insolently. ‘What you gonna do? Spank me?’

  I cough to conceal my laugh, as do George and Gregory. She’s a gem!

  ‘Not my style,’ Miller replies flippantly, not biting to her sass. It only spikes more huffiness from Nan and snickering to the point of tears from the rest of us. This is just priceless, and I desperately avoid George’s and Gregory’s eyes, knowing they’ll have me doubling over should I catch a glimpse of their own amusement.

  ‘Do you know how much I love your granddaughter, Josephine?’

  That soon brings all of the uncontrollable tittering to a rapid halt, and Nan’s face softens in an instant. ‘I have a good idea,’ she says quietly.

  ‘Well let me confirm it for you,’ Miller says formally. ‘It hurts like hell.’ I freeze and watch Nan’s face over Miller’s shoulder practically burst with happiness. ‘Right here.’ He takes her hand and lays it over his suit jacket. ‘My sweet girl has shown me how to love, and that just makes me love her all the more. She’s everything to me. Seeing her hurt or sad, it cripples me, Josephine.’

  I remain quiet in the background, just like Gregory and George. He’s speaking to her like they’re alone. I don’t know what this has to do with Nan being obedient, but he seems to be in his stride and I trust it has some relevance.

  ‘I know that feeling,’ Nan murmurs, forcing a sad smile. I could cry. ‘I’ve felt that before.’

  Miller nods and reaches up to brush a stray grey curl from her forehead. ‘Olivia is besotted with you, dear lady. And I’m quite fond of you, too.’

  Nan gives Miller a shy smile and claims his hand. I’ve no doubt she’s squeezing it hard. ‘You ain’t so bad yourself.’

  ‘I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.’

  ‘And you have good buns!’

  ‘So I’m told.’ He laughs, leaning in and kissing her cheek. I crumble on the inside with happiness, when I should probably be rolling on the floor with laughter as a result of her cheeky remark.

  Miller’s never had anyone. Now he not only has me, but he has my nan as well. And the extent of his appreciation is suddenly so palpable. He loves Nan, too. On a different level, of course, but his feelings for her are strong. Very strong, and he’s proved it in every word and action since we’ve returned from New York.

  ‘Now –’ he stands, leaving Nan seated, looking all content and dreamy – ‘Olivia is going to tuck you into bed. I’ll help Gregory make tea, and George is going to deliver it to your room.’

  ‘If you insist.’

  ‘I do.’ Miller looks across to me, giving me an interested look when he catches my watery eyes. ‘Chop-chop.’

  I mentally pull myself together and collect Nan from her chair, eager to escape the presence of my beautiful man before he has me wailing all over the kitchen. ‘OK?’ I ask as she takes slow steps out of the kitchen, up the corridor towards the stairs.

  ‘Never better,’ she answers with total sincerity, tugging painfully at my heartstrings. My contentment is soon stolen and replaced with dread because no matter how far down I bury it in my head, there’s one thing that I can’t hide from her forever.

  Gracie Taylor.

  I’m struggling to come to terms with it myself. Nan would never cope.

  ‘He’ll marry you one day,’ she muses to herself, snapping me from my wandering, agonising thoughts. ‘You mark my words, Olivia. I’ve never felt love so rich and pure in my eight decades of life.’ She takes the stairs gingerly, me following and holding her from behind, my mind in a whirlwind of conflict – indescribable happiness and overshadowing sadness. ‘Miller Hart loves you to death.’

  Chapter 16

  It takes me over an hour to tend to Nan, and I relish every moment, from helping her bathe to tucking her into bed. I dry and brush her hair, help her slip on her frilly nightie, and plump her pillows before helping her climb in. ‘I bet you’re loving this,’ she muses quietly, patting down the bedding around her. She’s sitting up, her grey curls perfectly swishing around her shoulders as she gets cos
y.

  ‘I like looking after you,’ I admit, refraining from tagging on the end that I prefer looking after her when she really doesn’t need it. I want her well, back to normal. She may have regained her spunk, but I’m not delusional to think that makes her fully recovered.

  ‘You needn’t think I’ll allow you to slip back into that empty world you chose to hide in before Miller came along,’ she tells me, keeping her attention on the sheets. I pause with my fussing and watch as she looks at me from the corner of her eye. ‘Just so you know.’

  ‘I know,’ I appease her, ignoring the dash of doubt nibbling at the corner of my mind. It would be easy to hide again, rather than deal with all of the challenges ahead.

  ‘I’ve told you before, Olivia,’ she continues. I don’t like where this conversation is heading. ‘Falling in love is easy. Holding on to it is special. Don’t think I’m silly enough to believe everything is perfect. I see a besotted man. I see a besotted girl.’ She pauses. ‘And one thing I can see even clearer than that are the demons Miller Hart is harbouring.’

  I lose my breath.

  ‘I can also see his desperation. He can’t hide from me.’ She watches me closely. I’m still holding my breath. ‘He’s depending on you, my darling girl. Help him.’

  A light rapping at Nan’s bedroom door startles me and I rush across her room to open the door, my mind racing, the need to escape making me panic. I find George looking slightly reluctant as he balances a tray of tea in his hands. ‘OK, Olivia?’

  ‘Yes,’ I squeak, standing back to give him access.

  ‘Is she up for visitors? I have tea.’

  ‘Take me dancing, George!’ Nan yells from behind me, making George grin.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ George slips in, his grin widening when his eyes find her, all neat and tidy in her bed. ‘You look spectacular, Josephine.’

  I’m surprised not to hear a scoff or sarcastic retort. ‘Thank you, George.’ Nan taps the bedside table in a signal for him to set the tray down, which he does promptly and carefully. ‘Let’s see if his tea is up to scratch.’