The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress

Keeping busy helped hold the build-up of tension at bay until after the men had left for the day. Daisy then went into a frantic whirl of getting herself ready for Ethan, using one of the guest bathrooms to take a shower, wash her hair, blow-dry the long brown tresses into curling softly around her shoulders.

Her make-up took longer than usual. It was difficult to stop her trembling hands from smudging the eyeliner and making a mess with the mascara, but the end result was worth the trouble. Her eyes were her best feature and with her hair making a dark, shiny frame for her face, she looked better than Ethan had ever seen her before. Her heart was thumping with the need for him to be surprised at how attractive she could look. The hope that he might see the possibility that she could be a partner for him beyond the bedroom kept sliding through her mind, regardless of how unlikely it was.

Her dress was a lovely, feminine design, made of silk patterned in red and white swirls. It had little cap sleeves, balancing a low, sweetheart neckline which left a hint of cleavage on display. The tightly fitting bodice was styled in a crossover ruche and the swingy skirt fell in graceful folds to knee length. Her bare legs and high-heeled strappy white sandals definitely made it a sexy dress, but not overtly so. She felt good in it, and Daisy needed to feel good about herself. Especially tonight.

Nevertheless, she was hit with a painful pang of total inadequacy when she paused to examine the overall result of her efforts in the mirror. She didn’t match the rich socialites Ethan was accustomed to mixing with, didn’t have their sophisticated polish or their perfect styling. The woman in the mirror might have been good enough for Carl Jamieson but Ethan Cartwright was light years ahead of Carl in the eligibility stakes.

It had been stupid of her to even try to pretend this was a date. She should be wearing her usual jeans, not caring how she looked because it wouldn’t change anything. For whatever reason, Ethan wanted her in his bed. She should probably greet him stark naked, save the bother of taking off her clothes, but everything within her recoiled from taking that line of brutal reality. At least making the most of herself was like putting on a brave face and she needed a brave face to cover up the nervous mess she was fast becoming.

With nothing left to do and not knowing when Ethan would arrive home, she sat in his home theatre and watched quiz shows on television, trying to keep her mind occupied by answering the questions put to the contestants.

She was ready for him.

As ready as she was ever going to be.

CHAPTER TEN

FOR Ethan, it had been a hectic end to the week with clients rearranging their investment portfolios after the share price for the Redback Mining Company had skyrocketed. He was mentally fatigued by the time he finished up on Friday evening—later than he’d wanted to be with Daisy waiting for him at home. He settled into the driver’s seat of his BMW and closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to re-energise himself for the night ahead—a night he’d been looking forward to, impatient for—ever since Daisy had walked away from him.

No more walking away, he thought with grim satisfaction. He didn’t understand why she’d been so damned perverse about denying the natural progression of a relationship between them, but it didn’t matter now. He’d won the time he wanted with her, and from her brief note, it seemed she was not about to baulk at fulfilling her end of the deal.

The power of money.

In this instance he hated it.

But he was going to take what it had bought him—take everything that Daisy Donahue could give him.

Starting tonight.

He sucked in a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, opened his eyes and began the drive home.

Over the past few weeks he’d kept up his usual social life, attending a few A-list parties, going to a couple of race meetings with Mickey, the regular games nights with the guys, holding Sunday afternoon tennis parties now that his court was ready for action. He’d actually been curious to see if any of the women he met raised a spark of interest in him—anything that might divert or supplant this obsession he had with Daisy Donahue. As absurd as it was, a businesslike little note from her gave him more of a buzz than anything else.

And despite his fatigue, he felt a buzz of anticipation growing as he drove out of the city centre, heading towards Hunters Hill. The peak-hour traffic had already thinned so the journey was not frustratingly long. It was just on six-thirty when he turned the BMW into his driveway and it gave him a sweet sense of pleasure to see Daisy’s car was parked at the front steps.

She was here…waiting for him.

He drove down the side of the house to the garage, which was now in a usable state. Was Daisy listening for him to arrive? How was she feeling about losing her freedom to him? Ethan couldn’t imagine her totally giving up the challenging attitude which had made winning her so compelling. The little brown sparrow had the heart of a lion.

Excitement zinged through him as he alighted from his car and strode towards the back entrance to the house. The wall of glass which gave a wide view of the harbour from the dining area and kitchen also gave a direct view inside. He halted in surprise when he caught sight of Daisy standing by the opened oven door, checking the steaming contents of a casserole dish, giving them a stir with a wooden spoon.

She was cooking him a meal?

His gaze swept the island bench. She’d laid out predinner nibbles, as well. And her hair was down, falling around her shoulders in a shiny, touch-inviting curtain instead of scrunched up in a ponytail. Pleasure welled up in Ethan. He hadn’t expected to be welcomed like this.

It flitted through his mind that Serena had never once cooked for him, always expecting to be taken out to restaurants or getting professional caterers in if she threw a party. Daisy wasn’t in the princess mould. She hadn’t put any of the tradesmen off-side with her. No getting up their noses with uppity airs and graces. She’d carried out her job here in a very diplomatic fashion.

Quite possibly cooking him dinner was a diplomatic action, as well, nothing to do with welcoming him home. Don’t assume anything, Ethan cautioned himself, a wave of cynicism overriding the pleasure. She could be buttering him up to get something else from him—the good, old bartering trick. He wasn’t going to fall for it. This time everything would be on his terms, exactly how he wanted it.

He resumed his approach to the back door, watching Daisy through the glass, his heart jolting again when she turned around after closing the oven door again. She looked lovely. No trace of the teenage appearance tonight. She was all woman. Some smoky make-up accentuated the bright chocolate of her beautiful eyes. Her lips were a stunning, glossy red. The upper swell of her breasts gleamed above the low neckline of her dress—a red-and-white dress—its saucy skirt swirling around her legs as she stepped quickly out from behind the island bench, her feet strapped into sexy high-heeled sandals.

She had shed the little brown sparrow image.

It had always been a deceptive image. He’d known it all along.

The lioness was out and prowling.

Desire kicked so fast into Ethan’s groin, his whole body was instantly invigorated—the earlier fatigue gone and forgotten. A few quick strides and he was sliding open the glass door, enjoying the slight shock on Daisy’s face as she stopped and stared at him. Caught, he thought, grinning with exhilarating triumph as he closed the door behind him and tossed his car keys on the dining table in passing, moving straight to the woman who could no longer escape him.

Daisy was stunned anew by Ethan’s physical impact on her. Her heart started galloping. An electric tingle raced around her veins. Her stomach contracted. Weird little quivers ran down her thighs. She forgot to breathe. The welcome home speech she’d rehearsed flew right out of her mind.

He didn’t give her any time to remember it. He picked her up, hoisted her over his shoulder, and was out of the kitchen and heading for the staircase before she found breath enough to speak. ‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked, coming out of shock enough for her dangling hands to find some purchase on his trouser belt and try pushing herself up.

‘Taking you to my cave,’ he replied with relish, keeping her thighs pinned to his chest with one arm and patting her bobbing derrière with his free hand. ‘Did I ever tell you I loved this bottom? Sexiest bottom I’ve ever seen on a woman. It’s been taunting me ever since we met. I think I’ll eat it.’

Eat it?

‘Dinner!’ Daisy squawked, realising the balance of her weight made it impossible to change his hold on her. She batted his bottom with more vigour than he’d used on hers. ‘I cooked dinner for you. It’s going to spoil.’

‘No. I switched off the oven. We can eat later. This hunger demands satisfaction first. Hit me some more. I like you being feisty. It’s very exciting.’

She did out of sheer exasperation. ‘I wanted you to appreciate my efforts.’

‘I do. Red suits you. It’s your true colour. Full of fire.’

‘I meant the food I prepared!’