The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress

‘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.

‘Love your red bikini,’ one of them said, smiling at her.

‘Can’t wear one any more,’ another remarked ruefully. ‘Having babies gave me an awful jelly belly.’

‘Why not consider cosmetic surgery if you feel bad about it?’ the third woman suggested.

This topic was instantly bandied around. Daisy sat on the middle step in waist-deep water, letting the conversation float around her, trying very hard to appear calm and at home with the party scene. It gradually dawned on her that it hadn’t worried the women that she’d gone missing. They were older than she was, comfortable in each other’s company with the many experiences of motherhood to share. They seemed to view their men as children, too, happy to sit apart and relax on the sidelines while indulgently watching their husbands at play.

Maybe the tradesmen had made some joking remarks to Ethan about her conscientious devotion to duty, suggesting he loosen the work-rein on her today, possibly implying she deserved some time off. The niggling criticism would have irked him, given that she was supposed to be enjoying the party with them. Whatever…she had to be careful not to arouse his displeasure again.

The problem was in not being able to act normally around him. He made her so tense all the time, having to fight the attraction he exerted on her. She should probably check where he was, try to judge from his expression if her swift response to his angry command had mollified the offence she had given. On the other hand, if she just sat here quietly, keeping her attention on the women, she shouldn’t get into any more trouble.

‘Daisy…’

Her nerves instantly twitched at the sound of Ethan’s voice, but at least there was no sharp edge to it this time. The tone held quite a pleasant lilt and she quickly constructed an inquiring smile as she turned in response to the call.

He stood halfway along the side of the pool, beckoning to her, obviously intent on a private tête-à-tête. It meant she had to get out of the water and go to meet him, wearing nothing but a dripping-wet bikini since she’d left her towel on the other side of the pool and she didn’t dare keep him waiting while she went and picked it up.

‘What’s it like working for such a gorgeous hunk?’ one of the women slung at her curiously as Daisy rose to her feet and started up the steps.

Difficult almost slipped off her tongue. The spectre of Lynda Twiggley blasting her for indiscretion rattled her just in time. She flashed a smile at the woman, quickly answering, ‘He’s actually very kind, very generous.’

‘Then you’ve got a brilliant package there.’ An encouraging grin was thrown back at her. ‘You should go for him, Daisy.’

She shook her head. ‘Not a good idea. But right now I have to go to him, so please excuse me.’

The women laughed at her quip and she left them to their own amusement, forcing her legs to walk around the pool to the man who was, indeed, brilliantly packaged, and the gorgeous hunk part of the package was very much on display. It didn’t matter how sternly she told herself not to find him desirable. She did. Any woman would.

He had the physical perfection of Michelangelo’s David, every masculine muscle shining under taut, tanned skin, vibrantly alive, not carved in cold white marble. Ethan Cartwright, wearing only a brief scrap of black fabric that seemed like a brazen pouch exhibiting even more sexual power, was hot, hot, hot, and just the sight of him made her own blood race with heat. It was impossible to control the response he drew from her.

Her heart thumped. Her stomach fluttered. She was acutely conscious of her bare thighs rubbing together as she walked towards him. And worst of all, with his gaze directly on her approach, taking in the full vision of her body in the red bikini, she felt her nipples tightening into hard bullets with no way of hiding that fact under a wet bra. It was difficult to resist the urge to fold her arms against her chest. Reason insisted that action would only emphasise her self-consciousness and a stiff bolt of pride refused to give into such obvious weakness.

Nevertheless, anxiety rushed her into speech the moment she was close enough to him not to be overheard. ‘Have I done something else wrong?’

His far too sensual mouth moved into an ironic grimace. ‘No. I want to apologise for being so curt with you. I didn’t mean to frighten you into acting like a scalded cat. Your job here is not at risk, Daisy. I just don’t want you to be scarred by your experience with Lynda Twiggley. It won’t hurt you to be more relaxed with me.’

‘No. Okay,’ she agreed, relieved that he was no longer annoyed with her. To be absolutely sure of not making another mistake, she asked, ‘What is the agenda now?’

He waved towards the group of men at the other end of the pool. ‘The guys and I are about to start the barbecue and put the meat on. Why not rustle up the ladies to help bring down the salads and generally get ready for lunch? No hurry. Keep it casual and friendly.’

‘Will do,’ she promised.

‘They’ll all be gone by three o’clock. Children to be picked up from school and an early start to the weekend for the men. Since you missed out on a game of tennis this morning, I’ll play a set with you then.’ He gave her a cheerful grin. ‘Can’t have you bringing a tennis racquet for nothing.’

He tossed these last words at her as he started strolling back to the barbecue area, leaving Daisy openmouthed, struggling for a protest or an excuse to escape playing with him—being alone with him. She had the sinking feeling he would accept neither, anyway.

He wasn’t going to let her off.

She would have to play the set of tennis.

Maybe she could surprise him by beating him. He didn’t know she was an A-grade player. If his male ego got hurt, that might make him a lot less attractive. And he might not want to play with her any more. In any sense.

It was the only hope she could hold onto for staying on here without this constant feeling of vulnerability where he was concerned. She had to beat him this afternoon. Had to.