Maid for the Billionaire(5)

He knew he was attractive, but it had been a long time since a woman had looked through his reputation and his wealth and seen him. Not only had his housekeeper been unimpressed by his expensive clothing; she'd actually taken him to task for his behavior. Outside of Jake's recent outburst, he couldn't remember the last person who had.

And he liked it.

The woman downstairs either had no idea who he was or she was using this pretense to heighten his interest in her. Either way, it was working.

He forced himself to take the stairs one at a time. Tonight was not about rushing. No, he intended to savor every moment and every inch of his pony-tailed brunette.

She was kneeling on a cushion next to his old marble coffee table, opening take-out containers. At his approach, she looked up and for a moment appeared to reconsider her decision to stay. She stood quickly, but held her ground as he came to a deliberately close stop.

Damn, she smelled good.

Her eyes widened and darkened, exactly as he had predicted they would. He hoped her acquiescence wouldn't come too easily. It was probably nothing more than the thrill of a good chase that had him feeling alive for the first time in days. However, with little or no effort, this woman had done what an entire bottle of Jack Daniels had failed to do the night before; she'd silenced the questions that had been thrashing around his head relentlessly.

She pointed toward the informal meal before them. ―Is this ok?‖

The table was set with two glasses of water and the paper plates the restaurant had sent. He spoke before he weighed his words. ―I don't think I've ever eaten on the floor.‖

She turned away and started to gather the boxes. ―I thought so. A man like you would want to eat at the dining room table. I can move...‖

He grabbed her arm to stop her from retrieving another container from the coffee table. ―I didn't say I wouldn't like it. I just said I hadn't done it.‖ Touching her felt good, too good. He slowly released her arm and took the boxes from her, replacing them on the table. ―Sit,‖ he ordered.

Her eyebrows flew up in surprise. ―Do people always do what you tell them to?‖ she asked without sitting.

―Usually,‖ he answered with an unrepentant, wide grin.

Fire flashed in those amber eyes. ―I‘m not sure I like you.‖

A jab of excitement shot through him. ―I'm not sure you have to.‖

Their eyes met and there was no hiding the attraction sizzling between them. She looked away first, busying herself by settling back onto her cushion and carefully opening a pair of chopsticks. He knelt on his own cushion without taking his eyes off her. When she reached for one of the boxes, an odd anticipation filled him. He knew next to nothing about her, but her preferences mattered to him.

Next to nothing? he chided himself. Hell, he didn't even know her name. He'd avoided asking for the same reason he hadn't offered his own. Just for tonight, he didn't want the outside world to intrude.

―Thank you,‖ he said simply.

Her hand jerked and she almost dropped the sweet and sour chicken she was spooning onto her plate. At the last second, she righted the box and placed it back on the table with a shaky hand. ―For what?‖

He waited till she looked back up at him before he answered. ―For staying.‖

She cocked her head to one side and said quietly, ―You looked like you needed someone to talk to.‖

―Talk?‖ he scoffed. That wasn't what women normally offered him and certainly not what he was looking for this evening. He gave her his best suggestive smile. ―Is that really what you think I need?‖

Completely unexpectedly, she mocked instead of melted. ―Wait. Don't tell me. You don't do that, either.‖

He couldn't help it. He laughed. She had a dry wit that tickled his sense of humor. How long had it been since he'd found a woman anything more than tediously emotional or clingy?

―You're nothing like the women I'm used to,‖ he said spontaneously. As she started to sputter a response, he spoke over her. ―In a good way.‖

She groaned and looked away. ―Let's not go there again.‖

He leaned over the table to cup her chin lightly with a finger, raising it until she looked at him again. ―Obviously my charm is rusty.‖ He ran his thumb lightly over her lips, watched them part instinctively and fought back the desire to haul her up on the small table between them.

―I'm trying to tell you that I find you very attractive.‖

Swallowing nervously, she pulled her chin out of his grasp. In a dismissive manner, she picked up her chopsticks again. ―If you want anything more than companionship over a meal, you've asked the wrong woman,‖ she said and quickly filled her mouth with rice as he digested her comment.

He sat back on his heels. ―So prim and proper. Do you start all of your dates with such declarations?‖

Between deliberately casual bites of food, she said, ―This isn‘t a date.‖

―It could be.‖

She choked on her food and reached for her glass of water. After a few gulps, she stood and said, ―This was a mistake.‖

He quickly stood and blocked her exit. He felt her breath quicken. ―Tell me I‘m not crazy.

Tell me you‘re just as tempted.‖ He pulled her slowly toward him, until her body was flush against his.

―I really don‘t think this is a good idea.‖

He brushed his lips softly over hers, successfully silencing her protests. For a moment, she remained unresponsive, frozen in his arms. Then with a shudder, her lips began to move against his. As he deepened the kiss, she relaxed against him with a sigh and wrapped her previously rigid arms warmly around his neck.