"We're here, sir." A voice cut through his pleasant dreams, dragging him into wakefulness.
Peeling open his eyes, Nicholas Davenport turned his head just as his driver pulled open the car door and the rush of cool night air rushed in to greet him. With a shake of his head and a scratch at the shadow now lining his jaw, Nick clambered from the car and allowed the brisk wind to blow away the last of the cobwebs lingering in his mind.
"Do you need me for anything else tonight?"
Glancing over his shoulder, Nick shook his head at his driver. "No, you head on home. I'm working from home tomorrow so I'll call when I need you. Now get home to your wife."
He watched as the man shifted from foot to foot, his head ducking even as he closed the rear door of the car with practiced ease.
Chuckling, Nick clapped a hand on the younger man's shoulders and pushed him towards the driver's seat. "Your partner sent me the appointment details because you forgot." He sent a glare at the young man before allowing his lips to form into a smile. "You won't want to miss these moments. Trust me on this."
With a last wave, the dark haired man strutted towards the front of his house even as the car pulled away.
He stilled however, one foot hovering over the first step, when his eyes landed upon a battered motor vehicle parked off to the far side of his driveway. Nick glared at the offensive hunk of ugly brown metal. It had to be at least fifteen years old if the registration plate was an indicator. If not the tarnished paintwork, the duct taped bumper and the missing hub caps were all badges from many years of active use.
What was it doing on the driveway? Nick certainly didn't own that piece of scrap metal and Betsy hadn't arrived in a car. Mrs Reed definitely didn't own it - she didn't even drive.
Glaring once more at the piece of scrap metal, Nick flipped out his phone and sent a quick text through to his security team before heading into his home. It would be gone soon enough.
Immediately upon entering his home, the tired man spotted a difference. It was small. Insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Normally when he came home from work, so used to the late nights he so often kept, the house was dark and sleeping. Yet as he opened the door soft light beckoned him through the doorway. Someone had left the light on for him.
Securing the house behind him, Nicholas set the alarm and checked in with security letting them know the house was all locked up tightly. There was nothing wrong with being a little bit paranoid. Life had taught him that.
The soft murmur of the television floated through from the doorway to the lounge. Nick paused in the hallway, hesitating with his briefcase in hand.
Betsy.
She was the only one who could possibly be awake at this time. There was no chance Mrs Reed would still be up. She was like clockwork, in bed with her curlers in as soon as the closing credits of the soaps finished.
Setting his case down next to the wall, Nick ran a hand down his face to try and wipe away the last of his weariness. The nap in the car had done little to rejuvenate him. Instead he felt even more exhausted.
Peering around the edge of the doorframe, he allowed his lips to pull up into a smile at the sight which greeted him. The lounge space was large and open, decorated with his two children in mind. The walls were a non-descript magnolia, one that could be touched up from time to time when mischievous children decided to use them as a canvas. The furnishings on the other hand were all about comfort and homeliness.
Nick leant against the doorframe, his weariness getting pushed to the back of his mind as he breathed in the fresh scent of vanilla which lingered in the air. His eyes however lingered on the trio upon the sofa.
The television flickered as an advert danced across the screen, a muted voice selling toothpaste or some other mundane household product. The dim light from the lamps bathed the room in a soft glow but the sight of his children snuggled up against his newest member of staff struck a chord within him.
Betsy sat between the two children, her head tilted awkwardly against the back of the sofa. Her lips were parted as she breathed softly, her nose twitching as she did so. She had an arm wrapped protectively around each of his children, holding them to her as they slept with their heads resting on the pillow in her lap. Never before had he seen his children trust anyone this quickly.
Their last housekeeper had been great on paper; she had all the right references and knew how to sell herself in the interview. Even her criminal record check had been clean. She had seemed perfect.
Nick gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists. He would never make that mistake again. In practice the woman had been nothing but a gold digger looking for her next pay day and she had gotten it. Just not in the way she had expected.
Stepping further into the room, Nick picked up the remote control from where it had fallen onto the floor and turned off the television with a click of a button. The sudden quiet was deafening.
Setting it on the arm of the sofa, he stroked a finger down his daughter's cheek. She frowned in her sleep before giving a little sigh. Her breaths once more became deep and even.
Settling back on his heels, Nick had never felt so apart from his family as he did in that moment. The three humans were so peaceful in their sleep, oblivious to his watchful stare. There was a part of him which wanted nothing more than to lift his daughter's legs so that he could slide onto the sofa and become a part of this moment.
Nick could barely remember the last time he had spent time with his children like this, just sitting together, his arms holding them as they slept. The sad truth hit him in the gut like a hard punch. Tommy had been just a baby. At just a year old, the youngest member of the Davenport had been restless, determined to experience everything. Peaceful moments had been rare. And his little girl had finally allowed him to hold her for the first time since his wife's death. It had been a bittersweet moment.
And so was this.
Scrubbing his hands over his face, Nick peered up at the blonde woman whom he had now taken responsibility for. The pixie looked younger in her sleep, her face relaxed and free of worry. Even the slight pinching around her mouth had evaporated. What could weigh so heavily on her? What troubles could this woman have that even her sister was scared for her sanity?
After his conversation with Claire, she felt more like an enigma. "Who are you?" Nick found himself whispering, his voice going unheard.
Grinding his teeth, Nick looked away. Just a few feet away, in his briefcase, sat all of the answers he could possibly need and yet here he sat, unmoving even as she slept on. The very fact his children had trusted Betsy enough to fall asleep in her presence spoke volumes more than the documents ever could.
Children were often more perceptive than adults gave them credit for. If he had listened to his children before, maybe he would have saved them all some trouble.
Nick's lips curled up into a smile even as his eyes became watery. Bittersweet indeed, he thought while scrubbing his face once more to remove any evidence of his weakness.
Carefully scooping his eldest child into his arms, Nick cradled her to his chest as he stood up from the floor. Mewling in protest, her hands batting half-heartedly at the air, his daughter turned her head and buried it into his chest. Her hands settled on clutching the fabric of his suit.
He took her up to her bed, carefully sliding her under the duvet before placing a gentle kiss upon her forehead. A few minutes later he was doing the same with the smallest member of the Davenport household. In his sleep, Tommy clung tightly to his father, his arms wrapped around his neck in a chokehold. After prising his hands free and settling underneath the covers, Nick brushed against his cheek before backing from the room.
Arriving back in the lounge just minutes later, Nick paused on the threshold. In the absence of the children, his new housekeeper had slumped to the side, her breathing deep and even despite how awkward and uncomfortable she looked.
He should just leave her there. She wasn't his responsibility. She shouldn't have fallen asleep in the first place. All of these thoughts flitted briefly through Nick's mind even as his feet closed the space separating him from the slumbering woman.
"Elizabeth? Betsy?" He called, his hand giving her shoulder a gentle shake.
The blonde turned her head into the cushions and muttered words in her sleep. Moments later her breathing returned to its deep and steady rhythm.
Scratching at the stubble on his jaw, Nick sighed tiredly.
With only the dim light of the lamp to see by, Nick bent and scooped the petite woman into his arms. She was light, her slight form fitting against his chest comfortably. The movement jostled the young woman and she started to stir. Her lashes fluttering as she hovered precariously between sleep and wakefulness.
Nick froze. His eyes were wide as he stared down at the woman within his arms.
Suddenly having her in his arms felt like a really bad idea. She was his employee – nothing else. It didn't matter that he knew her sister. None of it mattered at all because they were strangers to one another and should this woman wake within his arms the situation would not be a happy one.
Finally after what felt like an eternity, Betsy sighed and rested her head against Nicholas's chest, her head resting on the part of his body which held his chest. Had she been awake, Nick was sure she would have been able to hear the thundering of his heart.
Releasing the breath he hadn't even realised he had been holding, Nick stood. Then with cautious steps, he proceeded through the house. He didn't bother turning on any of the other lights, so familiar with his house that he could easily navigate without looking.
The trip to her room was over all too quickly.
Mrs Reed had already been in earlier in the evening to draw back the covers and switch on the night light so it was with ease he settled her body onto the bed. He lifted the covers and gently tugged them over the sleeping woman. He spared one last glance at her before turning away.
Only to be stopped by a firm hand on his arm.
Glancing back, Nick could just about see the eyes blinking up at him still glazed with sleep.
"Thank you." Betsy croaked, her eyes blinking rapidly in an attempt for her eyes to remain open.
There was husky tone to her voice which did things to Nick. Nick's chest grew tight as panic set in. He was a man who had been celibate for too long. Nick wasn't even sure how long it had been. There had been flings after his wife but even those had grown tiresome far too quickly.
Maybe it had been too long? Maybe then he wouldn't be so affected by their situation.
In the darkness, alone in a bedroom with this woman, it was far too intimate. It was too much. After the day he had had, his entire world had been thrown off balance and this woman was the cause of most of it.
Gruffly, he replied, "Your welcome."
Tugging, he tried to pull his arm out of her hold but Betsy did not release him. "You need to sleep Elizabeth. We will talk on this tomorrow."
Betsy opened her mouth to speak but Nick pulled pinned her with a glare, one that she couldn't see as his face was so cast in shadows. But she could feel it nonetheless.
"Tomorrow Miss Jones."
She released his arm and allowed her hand to drop back on to the bed.
Without another word to her, Nick left the room with calm and measured steps despite the fact that his pulse was pounding in his ears. He had to remain in control. It was the only way to deal with the situation. It was with these thoughts, feeling less in control than he had in months that Nicholas retreated to his own room for a restless night of sleep.