The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress (6 page)

Most likely this was a case of her being on the spot and him not having chosen another sexual partner since breaking up with his fiancée. He probably viewed her as a nice little tonic for his hurt pride—a good dose and he’d feel on top of his world again. Which would make Daisy just another feather stuffed in his winner’s cap. Her self-esteem insisted she was worth more than that. She’d been used once. She wasn’t going to be used again. Despite the fact that Ethan Cartwright left Carl for dead in the attraction stakes.

As she rang the doorbell on Thursday morning of the third week of working for him, Daisy was thinking she had to find a new job. Fast. With a boss who didn’t agitate her so
physically
and make her dream impossible dreams.

The door opened and she was confronted by another strong blast of sex appeal, though at least it was encased—enhanced?—by a superbly tailored business suit. ‘Ah, Daisy!’ Ethan Cartwright rolled out in his rich voice. ‘I have a special task for you today.’

The twinkling anticipation in his gorgeous green eyes made her heart flutter. She had difficulty catching enough breath to produce a querying ‘Oh?’

He flashed a teasing grin. ‘You’re so good at leaving me lists of things to note, I thought you’d appreciate getting a list from me. It’s in the kitchen. Come on in.’

He set off down the hallway and she followed him at a safe distance, fiercely telling herself not to get besotted by a silly grin. Despite this stern resolve, her stomach was mush and her pulse was pounding at her temples so distractingly her mind barely registered the words he tossed back at her.

‘You know the tennis court people and the guys who’ve done such a great job with the swimming pool…’ he cast a sparkling glance back at her ‘…with your eagle eye upon them will all be finishing up tomorrow.’

She nodded.

‘Well, I thought I’d give them a barbecue lunch in appreciation of the fine work they’ve done,’ he continued cheerfully. ‘Send them off with good feelings so they’ll be happy to return if any problem arises.’

‘You want me to do it?’ Daisy asked, not expecting him to be on hand during the day.

‘No. I want you to shop for it today and help me with the preparation tomorrow morning. I’ll do the cooking.’

Surprise tripped her into saying, ‘You’re going to feed a group of tradesmen yourself?’

He paused at the kitchen doorway, shooting her a quizzical look. ‘Why not?’

She almost bumped into him. Heat flooded into her cheeks as she reared back a step, wishing she could evade the riveting intensity of his eyes, but determined not to appear even more disturbed by him than she had already revealed. Since it was impossible to voice her assumption that
he
wouldn’t mix socially with ordinary
people when he obviously planned to, she had to come up with something else.

‘I thought you’d be occupied with your important clients.’

He lifted a hand, featherlight fingertips grazing her hot skin. ‘Everyone is important, Daisy,’ he said softly, his eyes smiling at her confusion. ‘And I believe in rewarding good work.’

Her heart was thundering. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the caring in his, or her face away from his mesmerising touch. She liked him. She really, really liked him. And she wanted…but she couldn’t let herself want that.

‘Right!’ she managed to mutter.

For a long, long, moment he said nothing. Her toes curled with tension. Her mind whirled with dangerous possibilities. What if he stepped forward and kissed her? What would she feel? The terrible part was she didn’t want to resist if he did make the move and that could land her in all sorts of trouble.

‘Right!’ he finally repeated, and with a quickly sucked-in breath added, ‘Let’s get to the list.’

Daisy sucked in quite a few quick breaths herself as she followed him into the kitchen, sensibly walking around to the other side of the island bench to put it between them. She was still shaking inside from that moment of aching vulnerability and was intensely grateful to have the list to look at as Ethan went through it with her, explaining what he intended to do with everything. The wives of three of the men would also be coming, he informed her, so there would be twelve people to feed, including herself and Ethan.

‘Just add anything you think would be good,’ he said,
pulling a wad of notes from his wallet. ‘This should cover everything.’

She frowned at the amount of money he was trusting her with. ‘I’ll bring home the dockets and give you the change tomorrow.’

His mouth quirked in amusement. ‘I’m sure you’ll account for every cent.’

‘It’s what I’m used to doing,’ she shot at him with a touch of belligerence, needing to emphasise the difference between them for her own sake. He could afford to splash money around as much as he liked whereas she…she started to wonder if he would use leftovers or let her take them home at the end of the day.

He immediately changed the subject. ‘Do you play tennis, Daisy?’

‘Yes,’ popped out of her mouth before she thought where that question might be leading.

‘Good!’ His smile smacked of wicked satisfaction. ‘Bring your tennis gear with you. And your swimming costume. I’ve already spoken to the men about trying out the pool and having a game of tennis. Should be a fun afternoon.’

Fun?

It might be for him, but it wouldn’t be for her.

Her mind boggled at the thought of seeing Ethan Cartwright in nothing but a swimming costume. It was bad enough being trapped into spending a whole day in proximity with this treacherously attractive man. She could only hope he wore surfboard shorts.

‘Have to leave now,’ he ran on, tapping the list. ‘Are you okay with this?’

‘Yes. Have a good day!’ she rattled out, relieved that she was not going to be mentally and physically buffeted
by his presence any longer. At least, not today. Tomorrow was looming as an exercise of intense discipline over her mind and body with him around all the time.

Tomorrow…it was like a song of glorious promise in Ethan’s mind as he drove towards the city centre. There’d been a moment this morning when he’d almost given in to the temptation to kiss her until she melted against him, the heat in her cheeks coursing through both of them in a firestorm of desire. He’d imagined sweeping her up in his arms, carrying her up the staircase to his bed, ravishing her until she gave up everything she was to him.

Only the constraints of time had stopped him. He had an important business meeting this morning. But tomorrow he’d manipulate a situation where she couldn’t deny the strong connection that had unmistakably pulsed between them in the hallway. One way or another he was going to persuade Daisy Donahue to surrender to it with all the intensity of passion he’d felt vibrating from her since the moment they’d met.

W
HEN
Ethan opened the door to Daisy on Friday morning, he was wearing black shorts, a black sports shirt with white trim around the collar, black-and-white tennis shoes with black socks. The athletic style of the man in these clothes instantly raised his sex appeal which was already far too high for Daisy’s peace of mind.

He gave her appearance a quick cursory glance—a loose blue-and-white striped T-shirt over knee-length white shorts—a sensible, sexless outfit—and his mouth quirked with ironic amusement as though he knew she had deliberately dressed down. For one stomachchurning moment challenge simmered in his green eyes, but he simply greeted her normally, then stood back and waved her inside.

‘The men are rigging up the sails which will shade the barbecue dining area,’ he informed her as they headed down the hallway. ‘The tennis court is getting a last vacuum before the net goes up. Everything should be ready by the time the wives arrive after dropping their children at school. We have about an hour and a half to prepare all the food before taking on the host and hostess roles. Are you okay with that?’

‘Yes,’ she answered, only too grateful that she could soon busy herself with other people.

It was good to be busy in the kitchen, as well, helping Ethan prepare the salads, cutting up onions to accompany the steak and sausages, spreading garlic butter on the loaves of French bread.

‘I see you’re used to doing this kind of catering,’ he remarked after they’d been working together for a while.

‘Family parties. We all get together at Easter and Christmas,’ she explained with a shrug.

‘You have a big family?’

‘Three older brothers and one older sister. All married with children. I was the accident. Mum was forty when she had me.’

‘And how old are you?’

‘Twenty-seven.’

‘No marriage in view as yet?’

‘No.’

‘Boyfriend?’

She frowned at him. ‘That’s a very personal question.’

He shrugged. ‘You’ve been working for me for three weeks and I realise I hardly know anything about you, Daisy. Not even where you live.’

‘I live at Ryde with my parents.’

‘To save money, no doubt.’

She flashed him a grim look at his quick understanding. ‘Yes, a fact that my last boyfriend didn’t appreciate.’

‘Ah!’ His mouth twitched into a satisfied little smile.

Daisy was vexed with herself for letting that slip. If Ethan Cartwright was thinking she was free for fun and games, he could think again. She was not about to waste
her time and emotion on a man who would dump her when he found another lady for the manor. She chopped up a cucumber with extra vigour.

‘How did your parents get into debt?’

The question surprised her, stirring a hope that he might toss out some free financial advice. She arranged her mouth into a rueful smile and looked directly at him as she answered. ‘Their superannuation manager directed them into investments which had gone bad. They borrowed money from the bank to renovate their home, believing they would have enough income to service the loan…’

‘And then the bottom fell out of the market,’ he finished for her. ‘Unfortunately a fairly common problem these days.’

It was an offhand dismissal of the subject. Daisy gritted her teeth over the stupid hope, then with a touch of resentment asked, ‘How is it that you knew better?’

‘My father is an economist,’ he answered matter-of-factly. ‘He was forecasting this financial blow-up for years. For the most part it didn’t suit people to listen to him. Many wrote him off as a crackpot academic.’

‘But you didn’t.’

He shook his head. ‘Numbers don’t lie. Numbers made the crash inevitable.’

She wished she could ask him to look at her parents’ investment portfolio, tell them where best to put what was left of their money, but such expert advice was his business. It wouldn’t come free and even if she could afford his fees, it would still smack of asking him for a favour, taking on an extra client whose nest-egg wouldn’t be big enough to earn him much of a commission. Favours put people under obligation to return them and she had nothing to offer Ethan Cartwright.

Except…

No, don’t go there, she sternly told herself.

Giving in to sexual chemistry was one thing.

Wanting financial pillow-talk out of it was something else.

But he’d be using her so why shouldn’t she use him?

The idea of having sex with him had been squirrelling around in her mind for weeks. She
wanted
to know how it would feel. He was, without a doubt, the most attractive man she’d ever met. It was only natural to be tempted to have the experience even though it wouldn’t lead to a serious relationship, and if there were side benefits…at least that would make up for being dumped afterwards. She could come out winning.

On the other hand, that was a gamble and she didn’t gamble.

The higher probability was she would come out losing…losing this job before she could find another, losing her self-esteem, losing her sense of right and wrong, and it was certainly wrong to barter sex for help. This wasn’t exactly a survival situation. She could manage it by herself. But for how long? And at what cost to her own life?

Heaving a despondent sigh, she picked up the punnet of cherry tomatoes and started cutting them in half to add to the green salad.
He
was whipping up a homemade dressing, blending Spanish onion with vinegar, sugar, vegetable oil, water, salt and mustard. The blender was switched off long enough for him to dip a finger into the mixture and lift that finger to his mouth for tasting.

Her heart did a ridiculous flip. It wasn’t a deliberately erotic action. Although when he saw her looking
at him, those devilish green eyes sparkled wickedly. The urgent need for some down-to-earth distraction made her grab at the first non-sexual thought that ran through her mind.

‘How come you’re so into cooking?’ she blurted out.

‘I enjoy eating well. Don’t you?’

‘Yes. But you could afford to frequent the best restaurants. You don’t have to do it yourself.’

‘There’s more satisfaction in doing it precisely to one’s own taste. My grandmother taught me that.’

‘Your grandmother?’

He grinned, delighted to have teased her interest. ‘From the time I was a boy hanging out in her kitchen. I used to go there after school. She loved cooking and everything I ate with her tasted so much better than the stuff my parents bought. Neither of them ever cooked. It was always frozen meals or takeaways, eaten in an absent-minded fashion whenever they felt the need for fuel. They’re both so wrapped up in their mental world, the physical world barely impinges on it.’

He must have had a strange upbringing, Daisy thought, very different from her family life. ‘Does that mean your mother is an academic, too?’ she asked, unable to squash her curiosity about him.

He nodded. ‘The law is her life. She lectures on it at university. Writes books on it.’

‘Were you an only child?’ He hadn’t indicated the presence of any siblings.

‘One was enough for my parents,’ he said dryly. ‘Not that they didn’t care for me. They did in their own way. Though I’d have to say the best thing they did for me was send me to boarding school. I had a great time at Riverview with Mickey and Charlie and the other guys.’

He poured the dressing into a sauce-boat ready to use later. ‘Though the food wasn’t up to my grandmother’s standard,’ he added ruefully. ‘When I finally struck out on my own, I wanted to cook for myself.’

Daisy had to agree it was hard to beat a really good home-cooked meal.

‘This dressing is one of my grandmother’s recipes,’ he ran on. ‘Have a taste.’

It was impossible to resist dipping a finger in and carrying it to her mouth, though she was conscious of him watching the action, waiting for her response. ‘Mmm…yummy.’

He laughed. ‘It’s always a pleasure to share pleasures.’

His eyes twinkled with a seductive invitation to share many more with him.

Daisy instantly pulled herself back into a defensive shell. Everything about Ethan Cartwright made him too temptingly attractive. It was becoming more and more difficult to hang onto common sense. She couldn’t even write him off as a selfish, arrogant pig any more. He didn’t act like one.

But there was still the huge barrier of his billionaire status, and she couldn’t help resenting how easily he could throw money around, getting absolutely everything he wanted. Somehow that made it all the more imperative that he shouldn’t get her, not as anything but an employee who fairly earned her wage.

Ethan observed the shut-down on her face and the belligerent set of her chin as she finished with the tomatoes and moved to the tray where she’d placed the cutlery wrapped in paper serviettes.

‘I’ll take this down to the barbecue area, save having to bring it later,’ she slung at him, avoiding eye contact, and was off, not waiting for him to agree or disagree.

She moved so fast, her pony-tail and her perky bottom twitched from side to side. Ethan grinned to himself, sure that it had become too hot in the kitchen for her and she was taking evasive action. She was so marvellously different from the women who virtually threw themselves at him. With Daisy there was no flirting to encourage his interest, and a swift backpedalling whenever she felt herself teetering on the brink of responding to him beyond her set limits.

All the no-go signs from her only served to make the challenge of breaking through her barriers more compelling. He had made some headway this morning, moving onto personal ground, drawing out a curiosity about his life which revealed the interest she’d been deliberately repressing.

Maybe her ex-boyfriend had soured her view of men generally and she was wary of letting herself be vulnerable again. Certainly his experience with Serena had reinforced his cynical view of women. But he felt the potential for something very different with Daisy Donahue and nothing was going to stop him from clinching a connection with her. He had the rest of the day to work on cracking her resistance to being with him.

Daisy threw herself into the role of party hostess, determined to avoid being with Ethan Cartwright as much as possible. Luckily, none of the wives played tennis, so she couldn’t be drawn into playing a set of mixed doubles. The morning passed agreeably enough. The
women expressed interest in a tour of the mansion and with Ethan’s permission, she showed them all they wanted to see, then stayed chatting with them at poolside, only moving away to refill drinks and ensure everyone was enjoying themselves.

All the men either played tennis or watched the game, amusing themselves with a lively commentary on the play, then cooling off in the pool before lunch. Daisy was the only one who didn’t go into the water, escaping to the kitchen on the pretext of last-minute preparations for the barbecue.

The vision of Ethan Cartwright in a brief black swimming costume had made her so hotly conscious of her own body, no way was she about to don the bikini she had brought with her. It was far more comfortable sticking her head into the refrigerator, staring at the contents which were largely dead meat with no sex appeal whatsoever. She was still blankly looking at the tray loaded with steak and sausages when
his
voice assaulted her ears with a tone of extreme annoyance.

‘This is totally absurd! You have no reason whatsoever to act as though I’m Lynda Twiggley, demanding that you toe some tyrannical line of duty every second of the day. I will not have it!’

It jerked her around to face a dripping-wet splendid male physique emanating a savage energy that sent wild quivers through her entire system. He’d slid open one of the glass doors that led onto the back verandah and stood just outside the dining area, glowering at her with fierce green eyes.

‘I told you to bring a swimming costume,’ he ranted on. ‘You know I wanted you to join in the fun. There is no need for you to be up here fussing over food. Since
you must be perfectly aware of that I find it distinctly offensive that you choose to turn your back on the rest of us…’

The accusation flustered Daisy into rushing out an apology. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give offence. I was just…’

‘Just nothing!’ He pointed to her beach bag which she’d dropped at the end of the island bench. ‘If that contains what it should contain, get changed and be down at the pool within five minutes. This is play time, Daisy. I expect my staff to follow the agenda I set.’

Having delivered this blistering ultimatum, Ethan strode off to return to his guests. The shock of his anger and the implied threat to her job had Daisy scuttling for her beach bag the moment his back was turned. She raced into the powder room under the staircase, threw off her clothes, dragged on her bikini bottom and fastened the bra top as fast as her fingers could work.

A glimpse in the mirror made her feel dreadfully naked and hopelessly vulnerable. She was too accessible to Ethan’s touch and if he did touch her, she was frightened of showing him some uncontrollable response, and he’d know he could get to her physically, know and probably take advantage of it.

Any confidence in maintaining a proper distance between them was shot to pieces. Never had she felt so gut-wrenchingly nervous about wearing a bikini. Never. Ever. She wasn’t ashamed of her body. It was slim enough and curvy enough to wear a bikini reasonably well, but how could she hide the effect Ethan had on her with only a few scraps of material for cover? It was no shield at all. It left her terribly, terribly defenceless.

Her frantic mind screamed there was no time to
worry about this. About three minutes had already gone and her job was at stake. Snatching up the towel from her bag, she ran to the door Ethan had left open and kept running, heading straight for the pool, not looking at anything but the water ahead of her, desperately blanking her mind to the fear of revealing far more than her almost-naked body.

A cheer went up from some of the men at the sight of her flying figure stripped of its usual cover-up clothes. Daisy didn’t let herself think or care what they thought. She dropped her towel on the slate patio and dived in, staying under the surface of the water until she reached the other side of the pool and had to come up for air. Having taken a few deep breaths to calm her pounding heart, she swam slowly to the steps at the shallow end where the other women were sitting, paddling their feet.