Maid for the Billionaire(7)

She should feel bad about that. In fact, she had every intention of deeply regretting that move when she was forced to explain it to Lil, but for now, it still felt right. She couldn‘t suppress a smile as she imagined his expression when he saw what she‘d done. He‘d be furious!

The idea of making him angry was unexpectedly a turn on for Abby. A man like that wouldn‘t stay angry. He‘d yell at first then pull her against him and their mutual passion would take it from there. Would they make it as far as the bedroom or would the stairs have to suffice?

Abby turned on the car‘s air conditioner to cool her face. She really had to stop thinking about him that way. The man might be good looking, but he had the social skills of a cockroach.

He offered to buy me for the night, for goodness sake.

So, why did she wish the evening had ended differently?

She wasn‘t the type who found dangerous men attractive. She dated solid, dependable, safe men. They were part of her plan; a plan that she‘d outlined for herself and Lill when, at eighteen, she‘d become her sister‘s legal guardian. What her life lacked in passion, it made up for in achievement. Her careful choices had made juggling college and parenthood possible. The house she was driving home to was evidence that the path she‘d chosen had been the right one.

Whatever Mr. Armani made her feel didn‘t fit her priorities. It was good, but it was the kind of good that always ended badly. That knowledge didn‘t change the fact that for the first time in too many years to count she‘d felt young, giddy – alive.

Pulling into the neatly shrub-lined driveway of her suburban home, Abby succumbed once again to the memory of their brief kiss and shivered despite the warm, June evening air that assailed her as she opened the car door. She caught her smiling reflection in the car window.

Come on, Abby she said to herself in reproach. Snap out of it. Nothing good would have come from sleeping with Mr. Armani.

Nothing except mind blowing sex.

Abby groaned at the excitement that was still evident in her expression. How was she going to convince Lill that she regretted getting her fired from her job if she couldn‘t get this stupid smile off her face?

Dominic put his feet up on the desk in the small office of the brownstone. The worn leather of the swivel chair reminded him of days long past when he'd settled for this office furniture out of necessity. Each day had held a challenge for him, a reason to get up in the morning.

He poured himself a glass of Jack Daniels, but put it down without taking a sip. Not normally a big drinker, Dominic had temporarily sought solace in the numbness alcohol provided. But even at the level of incapacitation, the self-recriminations and fury had remained

– until tonight.

Tonight he didn‘t want to think about the father who had disowned him when he‘d set off to find his mother or the bitterness that had overcome Dominic when eventually he‘d stopped looking for her. He didn‘t want to second guess the very successful career he‘d thrown himself into or how his business practices had left him with a distinct lack of friends.

No, tonight was not about the past. For once, he was focused on something that had nothing to do with money or revenge. Tonight was about getting something -- more specifically someone

-- he wanted. He‘d played the evening wrong and fixing the situation would require careful negotiations and a clear head.

He pulled out his cell phone and said, ―Jake.‖

Jake picked up on the second ring. ―Dom, what do you need?‖

―I need a favor. A personal favor.‖

Knowing Jake, he sat forward in his chair as he announced, ―I‘m not going to kill anyone for you.‖ Although his tone was light, Dominic heard the serious undertones of his proclamation.

―Do you honestly think if I was going to ask you to knock someone off, that I‘d use my own cell phone?‖ he joked, but Jake didn't share in his humor. ―Jake, I‘m kidding.‖

―I don‘t joke about things that could have me hiding in a third world country to escape extradition.‖

The seriousness of Jake‘s tone stung. When they‘d sat in this very office, cramming for exams and outlining their future business proposals, neither of them could have predicted exactly how much they would surpass their original goals or how ruthless Dominic would have to become to make it happen. But murder? Exactly how depraved did Jake think he‘d become?

Sure there had been financial casualties along the way, but that was business. Morality, much like international law, was often subjective. His success had always sparked rumors of possible wrong-doing, but until now he‘d believed that Jake knew the truth. ―All I need, Jake, is for you to contact our local security company.‖

That got Jake‘s attention. ―What happened?‖

―Nothing happened. I need a background check done on someone ASAP. Tonight.‖

―Not a problem. We subcontract Luros Systems in Boston. I‘ll have Duhamel contact them.

Who do you want checked out?‖

He hesitated and Dominic wasn't a man who second-guessed himself. ―I don't know her name, but she cleaned my brownstone today.‖

―You want a background check on your housekeeper?‖ Jake asked in disbelief. ―Did she steal from you?‖

―No. It‘s complicated, but I want a full report – where she lives, who she dates, how serious it is.‖

―Ohhhhhhh,‖ Jake said. ―You want that kind of background check. That might take some legwork. It's already six o'clock, your time.‖