The Millionaire and the Maid

His heart pounded so hard it hurt.

Jo gestured to the macarons and then around the kitchen. ‘You love all this.’

It was pointless denying it. She’d put that whisk in his hand and for a moment he’d felt as if he could fly. He’d tried to ignore it by focussing on her story about her family, but no matter how much he’d lied to himself it hadn’t worked. In much the same way it appeared that trying to turn his back on his passion hadn’t worked. He could blame his talent and his ambition all he liked, but it didn’t stop him from loving cooking as much as he ever had.

‘I expect Ethan must love all this too.’

Something inside him stilled.

She blew out a breath and fell into a chair. ‘I understand you wanting to help him. You’ve both suffered a dreadful accident that’s changed your lives. But...’

Mac sat too, his mind a whirlwind. ‘This is a hell of a way to stop me from kissing you again.’

She bit her lip. ‘I shouldn’t have started this. It’s none of my business.’

He didn’t know if he was angry with her, or grateful, or something else entirely. ‘Don’t stop now.’

She stared at him, her eyes dark. ‘We’ve got in each other’s faces so much this last fortnight, with me demanding you take better care of yourself and you taking issue with my body image, and me wanting to change your view of the accident and you trying to help me find a new direction career-wise. And then there’s Bandit, which has added a whole new dimension. I didn’t know any of this was going to happen, Mac, and it’s been intense. I’ve never experienced this kind of intensity with anyone in such a short time before.’

He dragged a hand down his face.

She straightened, her voice suddenly tart. ‘And you needn’t interpret that as me being in love with you, or something stupid like that, because that’s not what I’m talking about. This is... It’s not friendship, but there are elements of that. It’s not lust, though that’s part of it.’

She shook her head. ‘Maybe it’s the proximity and the isolation and the fact we’ve both recently been through something big that’s created a kind of melting pot here.’ Her chin lifted. ‘Do you know what I’m talking about or am I just—?’

‘No.’

She glanced down at her hands.

‘I mean yes,’ he growled, wanting to wipe that look from her face. ‘I was saying no to your alternative. I’m saying yes, I understand what you’re trying to say. I can’t explain it but there’s a connection.’

And he didn’t want there to be one. Even though he liked her.

She grasped at the air, as if searching for the right words. Her gaze returned to his—troubled, puzzled, dazed. ‘When I think about some of the things I’ve said to you I’m appalled at myself. I don’t feel like this—the here and now we’re in—is the real world.’

He eased back in his seat. His heart thudded in his ears. ‘There’s something else you want to say that you wouldn’t normally say in the real world, as you put it—isn’t there?’

She slumped back before straightening again. ‘What the heck? In for a penny... Helping Ethan realise there’s a future—that he has a future to look forward to—wouldn’t that be a fine way to help him?’

Yes. Yes, it would.

‘You both share a passion for cooking, right? Well, maybe Ethan would like to help you work on the cookbook.’

‘He’s still in hospital. He’s still recovering.’

She ignored that. ‘Maybe down the track the two of you could start up your own cooking show on TV—do it the way it should’ve been done in the first place.’

His heart tried to pound out of his chest. He leapt from his chair. ‘We’d be considered freaks.’

‘Is that how you see Ethan?’

Of course it wasn’t. But the general public wouldn’t be so kind.

‘Is that how you see yourself?’

A fist tightened about his ribcage

‘You tell me I’m beautiful and expect me to believe you, but you refuse to see yourself fairly.’

He was scarred. End of story.

But he didn’t repel her. He met her gaze and swallowed. Maybe other people would see past his and Ethan’s scars too.

‘Call him, Mac. See how he’s doing. Give him something to live for.’

She folded her arms when he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. A lump the size of a frozen pizza throbbed in his throat.

‘Promise me you’ll at least think about it?’

He gave a curt nod, feeling bruised all over.