The Millionaire and the Maid

She tried not to focus on the languid line of his body. ‘But...?’

‘There’s no denying looks have an impact on how a person is perceived.’

‘If a person is repelled by your scars they’re not worth the time of day.’ She folded her arms. ‘You know, it could prove a useful filtering device.’

He gave a bark of laughter. ‘You can’t say that.’

‘Don’t let anyone know you feel self-conscious about it, Mac. That’s my best advice. They’ll see it as a weakness, and there are people in the world who pounce on others’ weaknesses in an effort to build themselves up.’

He turned to her more fully. ‘That sounds like the voice of experience.’

She shrugged and tried to walk the walk she’d just talked. ‘Look at me.’ She gestured down at herself.

‘I’ve been doing my very best not to do that, Jo. I promised you gentlemanly behaviour, but when I look at you...’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Do be serious.’

Mac moved to trap her against the veranda post and the side of the house. He planted one hand on the weatherboards by her head, the other on the railing near her waist. Her mouth dried. Her heart thudded so hard she found it impossible to catch her breath.

‘What on earth do you think you’re—?’

‘Shut up or I’ll kiss you.’

She almost swallowed her tongue.

‘You have the nerve to give me a lecture about shallowness, beauty and an individual’s true worth, and then you want to carry on with you’re not attractive?’

She opened her mouth. His eyes suddenly gleamed, fixing on her mouth with a hunger that had to be feigned! But she remembered his threat and snapped her mouth shut.

‘What a shame,’ he murmured, and in his eyes was a mixture of laughter and regret.

She wanted to call him a liar, but she didn’t dare.

‘When I said you were a striking woman I meant that in every positive way there is. I meant that I find you attractive. I meant that it takes a Herculean effort on my part whenever I look at you to conceal my desire.’

She choked.

‘And it’s not because I’ve been isolated for the last four months.’

Again, she was tempted to call him a liar. She was tempted to say anything that would make him kiss her. Warmth threaded through her stomach at the thought, her thighs softened and her breasts grew heavy.

But if he kissed her she wouldn’t be able to help it. She’d kiss him back and then he’d know how much she wanted him, how attractive she found him, and it would make her vulnerable. She swallowed. She didn’t want to be vulnerable around this man.

‘You seem to think you’re too tall for a woman...’

He moved in closer, his heat swamping her, though he still didn’t touch her. He smelled of soap and freshly ironed cotton...and very faintly of dog. She really wished that last would put her off, but it didn’t.

‘I don’t think you’re too tall. I think you and I would fit perfectly.’

They might not be touching, but this close to him she felt dwarfed.

‘I could stare into your eyes all day. They’re so clear, and the colour changes depending on your emotion. I find myself wanting to learn what each shade means.’

That voice of his, its low intimate tone and the words he uttered, could weave a spell around a woman.

He eased back a fraction and she managed to draw air into her lungs again. Until she realised what he was doing and the breath jammed in her throat again.

‘You have the most intriguingly womanly shape—all dips and curves.’

He was staring at her body the same way she’d stared at his face a short while ago. Had he felt this exposed? For heaven’s sake, she was fully clothed, but Mac’s eyes were practically undressing her—as if he was imagining what she’d look like without said clothes—and his eyes started to gleam and he actually licked his lips. She swallowed a moan and sagged against the wall, her pulse racing, bustling, jumping.

‘Your body is lush and strong, and I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t aching to explore it. Thoroughly and intensely.’

The words scraped out of him, a hoarse whisper, and Jo’s head fell back against the house as she struggled to draw air into her lungs.

‘But that’s just the outside packaging. The woman I’m getting to know is passionate, she gives no quarter, but she is remarkably generous.’

His gaze burned fiercely down into hers. She couldn’t have uttered a word if her life had depended on it.

‘And all of that makes me ache that much more to make love with you.’

How on earth had the morning descended to this? For years she’d worked among teams of men in remote locations in the Outback and she’d always managed to keep things on a professional footing.