Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [18]
“Okay. I'll do as you suggest for the present,” Brenna said reluctantly. “But I want to speak to Mr. Donovan right away, Monty.”
Monty Walters nodded, ignoring Paula Drummond's outraged gasp. He understood the receptionist's incredulity. One didn't demand an audience with Michael Donovan in his own kingdom of Twin Pines. Such an act was unprecedented, but then so were all Donovan's actions in regard to Brenna Sloan. Perhaps Donovan's reception of her request would be in accordance with this exceptional behavior.
“Mr. Donovan asked me to call him when we arrived,” he said quietly. “I'll ask him to get in touch with you.” He touched Brenna's cheek lightly. “It's been a long day. Why don't you try to take a nap? You look exhausted.”
Brenna nodded ruefully. She probably looked a wreck. With only four hours' sleep last night and the long drive today, she felt achingly tired. “I will,” she promised, smiling. “Thank you for everything, Monty.”
“My pleasure, Brenna,” he said lightly. “I'll see you soon, no doubt.” With a casual wave, he turned and walked out the door.
“Well, now that we're all in agreement, we'll get you settled, Miss Sloan,” Paula Drummond said brightly. “Which are your bags?”
As she silently pointed out her personal luggage, Brenna was tempted to tell the girl that they were not all in agreement. There was no way that Michael Donovan was going to get away with this high-handed interference in her personal life. As she gave Doris Charles a few quiet instructions as to Randy's likes and dislikes as to food and his general schedule, she already felt a sense of loss. She and Randy had never spent even one night apart, and she was feeling distinctly shaky at the idea of the parting. He had become the center of her life since Janine died.
“I'll take good care of him,” Doris Charles said kindly. “It's only a five-minute walk to the cottage. You can come and see him as often as you wish.”
Brenna felt an absurd desire to say thank you. Thank you for telling me I can come and see my own child. She already felt he had been taken away from her. “I know you will,” she said huskily, “and it's only for tonight.” She brushed the top of Randy's head with a light kiss, and turned away quickly before she changed her mind. She followed Johnny Smith out the far door and down the paved path toward the small, elegant redwood cottage.
four
JOHNNY SMITH UNLOCKED THE FRONT DOOR and touched the wall switch, flooding the interior with light. He preceded her into the room, saying cheerfully, “I'll just carry these on through to the bedroom, Miss Sloan.” Taking her silence as assent, he crossed the deeply carpeted living room to a door on the left, leaving Brenna to gaze in amazed admiration at the interior of the cottage.
The living room area was carpeted in pearl gray with matching drapes at the casement windows. The modern furniture was in shades of violet and purple with cream pillows thrown in luxurious profusion on the lavender couch. Clear glass occasional tables gave a tranquil, pristine quality to the living room. In the dining area, a silver bowl with a multitude of floating violets was the colorful centerpiece on a magnificent glass dining table. There appeared to be a small kitchenette leading off the dining area, but she decided not to explore further, and followed Johnny into the bedroom.
Brenna found that the boy had pulled open the drapes and was coming out of the adjoining bathroom. “Plenty of towels,” he said briskly. “Sometimes the maids forget.”
The bedroom, too, was carpeted in pearl gray with the same violet accents, she noticed. The queen-sized bed was covered with a royal purple taffeta spread, coordinating with the matching drapes at the long French windows.
Johnny pointed to the cream princess phone on the side table. “You dial nine to get an outside line, dial six to get the main hall switchboard.” His bright, brown eyes were eager. “Would