Page 1 of Leather and Longing (Island Tales #3)

Chapter One

Interviews were different.

Give me my sweats and a T-shirt any day .

Interviews meant dressing smartly, being on his best behaviour, at least trying to sound intelligent, and above all, making that all important first impression count .

Paul Vaughan wasn’t sure he’d accomplished that, judging by Mrs. Lambton’s facial expression.

She looked like she’d swallowed a whole load of lemon sherbet.

Right then his interviewer was reading through Paul’s application and CV with such scrutiny that he began to feel uncomfortable.

Paul fidgeted with his collar. He hated wearing the dark grey suit, white shirt and dark blue tie, not to mention the tight black shoes that pinched his feet.

He longed for the interview to be over, so he could go home and slough off the clothing as if he was shedding dead skin.

Paul never wore shoes in the house, and when he’d attended lectures at Portsmouth University, flip-flops were the norm among his classmates.

He took a moment to take a calming breath and glance around the room.

The walls were lined with bookshelves, reaching to the ornate ceiling.

Behind the desk where Mrs. Lambton was seated, a long window afforded tantalizing glimpses of the sea.

Paul could just about hear waves crashing on the rocks below.

The desk itself was wide, with an attractive lamp and a computer monitor its only adornments.

Although it was a beautiful room, Paul couldn’t help feeling it was missing something—or rather, some one .

There was no sign of the man mentioned in the advert, the one who needed a companion.

“Mr. Vaughan!”

If her sharp tone was anything to go by, Paul had zoned out for a moment. He sat up straight and cleared his throat. “Yes, Mrs. Lambton?” He met her scrutiny and did his best to appear alert.

She sat back in the wide leather chair, elbows resting on its arms, her gaze focused on him.

“Your qualifications are eminently suitable, and the references from your college tutors are excellent.” Paul estimated her to be in her late fifties, clearly a well-educated woman judging by her speech and diction.

Her grey coiffured hair was neat, her clothing elegant.

Paul smiled. “I’m glad they meet with your approval,” he responded politely. He’d known there’d be no problem with that element of the interview. What concerned him was that the advert hadn’t revealed much about the position, what would be expected of the successful applicant.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll be honest. I would have preferred to be interviewing an older candidate, but on this occasion, you are the best applicant who has applied. On paper ,” she stressed, tapping his paperwork with a thin finger.

Paul remained quiet, waiting to see where this was leading.

A noise from the next room broke the silence, the sound of furniture sliding across a hard floor, followed by a muffled raised voice.

Mrs. Lambton jerked her head toward it, her forehead furrowed.

After several seconds when all was quiet once more, she returned her attention to Paul, but this time her demeanour changed.

She lost some of her stiffness and her regard became friendlier.

“Paul—if I may call you that?” He nodded. “Paul, I’m going to be blunt. This position is not without its… difficulties. My brother, Mr. Kent, is not an elderly man—he’s forty—but he needs to have someone constantly on hand.”

“Oh?” Paul’s interest was piqued.

Her attention seemed focused on the desk in front of her. “Adam was diagnosed as suffering from acute glaucoma three months ago. I’m sure you can imagine for yourself how devastating such a diagnosis was for an author.”

So, Adam is an author .

“Is he going blind, then?”

Mrs. Lambton sat very still. “He is already blind,” she said quietly. “Three weeks after the diagnosis, in spite of various attempts to salvage the sight in one of his eyes.”

“Three weeks?” Paul couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man. Forty, an author, and suddenly his whole world had changed.

“Which brings us to the position,” she said. “There have been several companions, none of whom have lasted more than a few days.” She scowled. “The record is three hours.”

“Why is that?” Paul kept his tone even. Inside his stomach churned.

What the hell does this guy do to make people want to quit so freaking fast?

Mrs. Lambton made a noise at the back of her throat. If it hadn’t been for her ladylike demeanour throughout the interview, Paul could have sworn she’d growled.

“Perhaps it’s best that I tell you, seeing as I intend to offer you the job.”

Paul gave a little internal whoop but then tempered his joy quickly.

I’m not agreeing to take on this position until I know the whole story.

“Every person that I have hired, he has driven them to quit. He can be awkward, cantankerous and on occasion, plain pig-headed. I give you fair warning, he will resist all your efforts to help him. Indeed, he will claim he needs no help. That is not the case, I assure you.”

“May I ask a question?”

Mrs. Lambton gave a cautious nod.

Paul hesitated. “Why isn’t your brother the one interviewing me? Surely if that were the case, he could ensure he approves of?—”

“Adam does not want a companion,” she interjected bluntly.

“And it is I who will be hiring you, not Adam. Personally, I feel he should not be living here alone in this huge house. It would have been a big enough undertaking if he were fit. Now that he is blind…” She massaged her temples with her fingertips.

“However, Adam has made it abundantly clear that he wishes to reside here. A live-in companion is my attempt at a compromise.” She peered at Paul.

“The advert did stipulate that this is a live-in position?”

Paul nodded.

She smiled. “Then perhaps all that remains is for me to formally offer you the position. Are you willing to accept?”

Paul quickly turned over his options in his head. Jobs on the island were few and far between, and after a year of looking, he’d been panicking. He was more than ready to leave home, not that it hadn’t been useful to stay with his parents while he hunted for jobs.

But let’s face it, Dad’s more than ready for me to leave, too. Possibly the understatement of the year.

Paul didn’t want to have to leave the Isle of Wight. He loved living there, and it had been a real wrench to study on the mainland. This position offered him the chance to live in a beautiful house, overlooking one of his favorite places on the island, Steephill Cove.

Yeah, never mind that—what about this Adam? By the sound of it, Paul might not last long in his new job, not if Adam was determined to make him quit.

That made him stop and think. Paul had never been a quitter, and the idea of staying the course when others had fled appealed to him.

“What would the job entail, exactly?” A bit of last-minute information might provide him with the push he needed.

Mrs. Lambton straightened in her chair. “You would be responsible for preparing my brother’s meals, doing the shopping, the laundry and the cleaning.

You would make sure he attends any appointments with his doctor or at the hospital.

You would see that all his mail is answered.

In return, you will be provided with a salary, room and board, and the run of the house.

But you must bear in mind that Adam’s care is your first priority.

” She scowled once more. “I was more than prepared to take care of him, but Adam has made it very clear that he does not want me living here.” She lowered her gaze to stare at the polished surface of the desk, but not before Paul caught a flash of anger.

He hesitated before speaking his mind. “It seems to me Adam doesn’t want anyone living here.”

Mrs. Lambton raised her chin slowly. “Am I to understand you do not wish to accept the position?” There was an undercurrent to her voice, something Paul couldn’t get a handle on.

Her gaze was speculative. For one brief moment, it almost appeared that she wanted him to turn down the job. Except that didn’t make sense.

It intrigued the hell out of Paul.

He smiled. “I would be delighted to accept.” He watched her reaction carefully for any sign of the emotion he’d just witnessed, but there was nothing.

“Excellent.” She extended a hand across the desk and Paul shook it firmly. “As today is Friday, how about if we consider Monday the first day of your employment? Will that give you enough time to arrange to move your belongings here?”

He nodded. “More than adequate.” He didn’t have that much in the first place.

“Then perhaps it’s time for you to meet Adam.”

That was all it took for Paul’s heart to start racing.

She rose to her feet and led him out of the room to the next door.

She paused outside. “Adam is in here, and in the circumstances, I feel it important that you meet him without my presence.” Paul swore he saw pity in her eyes.

She patted his arm. “I will be in the next room when you have finished.” And with that she smiled and left him standing outside the closed door.

Paul stared at it, heart pounding. For God’s sake, just get in there . Adam wasn’t an ogre.

No, he’s a cantankerous, obstinate bastard who doesn’t want a companion.

Heart quaking, he raised his hand and rapped on the wooden surface.

Nothing.

Paul knocked again, louder this time. Still no sound came from the room.

There was nothing for it but to enter. Paul pushed open the door and walked into the room, facing straight ahead.

When he saw the figure by the window, he caught his breath.

He’d built up a picture in his mind of Adam, conjured up by Mrs. Lambton’s description and his own preconceptions of what an author looked like.

The reality bore no resemblance to his imaginings.

Adam sat in a wide armchair by the window, facing away from Paul, a white cane leaning against the arm.

His curly, black hair almost reached his shoulders, the light glinting off it.

There were hints of silver at the temples.

His beard was thick, his long legs encased in sweatpants, stretched out in front of him, his feet bare.

Adam had wide shoulders, his arms toned, a black T-shirt hugging his contours, from what Paul could see at any rate, from his angle.

Paul cleared his throat. Adam’s only response was a slight stiffening of his posture.

He continued to stare toward the window.

Paul walked quickly across to Adam’s chair.

“Good afternoon, sir. My name is Paul Vaughan. Mrs Lambton has just hired me as your companion, so I thought I’d introduce myself. ”

Adam didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. It was only the steady rise and fall of his chest that told Paul he was indeed breathing.

Paul cleared his throat once more. “I thought you might have some questions for me.”

Adam’s steady silence was disconcerting.

After waiting for a minute with no response from him, Paul’s heart sank.

It was obvious his new employer had no intention of speaking to him.

He turned around and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

As he reached for the handle to return to Mrs Lambton, he caught the unmistakable sound of a key turning in a lock, coming from behind him.

Shit. Couldn’t be much clearer, could it?

Adam Kent did not want a companion.

Sighing inwardly, Paul knocked on the door to the previous room and entered. Mrs. Lambton was standing by the window, looking out over the bay. She turned as he entered.

“How did it go?”

Paul resisted the urge to snort. “As well as you’d led me to expect.”

“Why, what did he say to you?” She crossed the room, closed the door gently behind him and stared, drawing her mouth into a straight line and biting her bottom lip.

Paul’s cheeks burned. “He wouldn’t speak to me. In fact, as soon as I’d left the room, he locked it from the inside.”

Her expression betrayed nothing of her feelings.

“I am so sorry, Paul. I’m sure the situation will change.

It’s not the first time he’s done this, although I had hoped he’d grown accustomed to the idea.

Apparently not.” She patted his arm, an unexpectedly warm gesture.

“I have your details here, and I’ll sort out payment details next week.

” She walked over to the desk and picked up a keyring with several keys attached.

“These will be yours. The one with the yellow tag is the front door key.” She handed them to him, and he shoved them into the pockets of his pants.

“Now let me show you where you will be staying.”

Paul followed her out of the room and into the huge hallway with its high ceilings and ornate balustrades.

The room they’d left was one of several leading off from the hall, which was dominated by the wide front door, bordered on both sides by beautiful stained-glass panels.

She led him up the thickly carpeted staircase to the first landing, where more rooms awaited them.

Mrs. Lambton opened the door straight ahead.

“This is the bathroom, with a connecting door to Adam’s bedroom.

I wanted him to convert one of the rooms downstairs into a bedroom, but Adam being Adam, he refused.

” She sighed. “My brother is as immovable as a mountain.” She pointed to the right.

“That is Adam’s room. You will be next to it.

” She walked up to the cream painted door that was to be his room and pushed it open.

Paul had just enough time to peer inside and get a glimpse of the room before she was pulling it shut and leading him away. At the foot of the stairs, she faced him.

“I don’t expect we shall see much of each other, so I will take this opportunity to wish you luck.” Her eyes gleamed. “You’re going to need it.”

Paul had had enough for one day. He gave her a polite nod. “Thank you, Mrs. Lambton. I’ll see myself out.”

He turned and left the room, his back straight, chin high. Once he was outside, however, his shoulders hunched over, and he forced out all the tension of the afternoon in a long exhale of air.

God, I need a drink.