His Millionaire Maid(24)

"Are you sure?" Patty eyed the dresses doubtfully.

"Yes!" Nina nodded eagerly. "Price them at fifty dollars, and they'd be  gone in a flash. In fact, you could probably sell them for sixty,  seventy dollars. Each of these dresses would retail for several thousand  dollars." She scrambled through the bag and pulled out more clothing.  "Look, there are pants and jackets, too. You could make a fortune here."

Mrs. Stewart and Patty both stared at her.

"I've never heard of this Favreau." Patty sounded accusing. "You seem to know a lot about French clothes."

Nina halted, belatedly realizing her faux pas. Mrs. Stewart also  appeared confused. Okay … she'd slipped up again. An ordinary  working-class girl like she was meant to be might know about Christian  Dior and Valentino, but she shouldn't recognize a niche brand like  Favreau.

"Um, I used to do some babysitting for a rich woman in San Francisco,"  she quickly improvised. "She wore dresses like these. That's how I  know."         

     



 

"I see." But Patty still seemed a little suspicious. "It's just that you  knew what they were so quickly. You didn't even read the labels."

Nina shrugged. "I guess I have an eye for detail, that's all." She  turned to Mrs. Stewart. "So, should I price them and put them aside for  the festival stall?"

"Maybe just a few." Mrs. Stewart was still doubtful. "And definitely  don't price anything above thirty dollars. We don't want to end up with a  lot of unsold stock."

Thirty dollars! They might as well give them away. But Nina held her  tongue, afraid she'd blow her cover, and did as she was told.

At lunchtime they stopped for coffee and a quick sandwich. Patty seemed  to have gotten over her doubts about Nina, as she chatted to her about  her family and her occupations. She was on the festival organizing  committee, it turned out, and was another fan of Joe's. Under Joe's  leadership, the festival had grown each year and was now a great tourist  attraction.

"We pride ourselves on our individuality and craftsmanship," Patty said,  sounding like a brochure. "People visit here because they like a  personal touch. That's why we're so opposed to having a Beaumont resort  foisted upon us."

Nina's heart sank at the mention of her dad's hated company again.

"Not everyone is opposed," Mrs. Stewart said mildly. "Some people think a resort would be good for jobs."

Patty snorted. "A few jobs in exchange for ruining our peaceful  environment? It wouldn't be worth it. There are other ways of generating  new jobs."

Like Joe's proposed B&B, Nina thought. He'd need to hire extra  staff, and the kind of guests Joe wanted to attract would likely spend  more money in the area, too.

"What do you think of the resort?" Mrs. Stewart asked Nina.

She looked up at the two women. "It shouldn't happen. It has to be stopped." Because Joe's dream had to come true.

Patty and Mrs. Stewart exchanged looks. "See?" Patty said. "Everyone thinks it's a terrible idea."

Fortunately, they dropped the subject after that.

 …

"Should I lie low until we get to your place?" Nina's eyes sparked with  mischief as she squirmed in the passenger seat of Joe's pickup truck. It  was broad daylight, and he had just picked her up from the inn after  she'd helped Mrs. Stewart. "I could put my head on your lap," she said,  licking her lips. "That way no one would know I was with you."

Lust surged through Joe at the prospect of having those luscious lips of  Nina's so close to his crotch. But he manfully tamped down his desires.

"Sweet pea, it's sweet of you to offer, but I don't want the sheriff  pulling me over, because I'm sure I can't drive straight with your head  in my lap."

Laughter bubbled out of her. "Well, as long as you don't mind being spotted with me."

He'd been careful to park at the back of the inn when he'd picked her  up, and now instead of driving down the main street, he was taking a  detour through the quiet part of town. He didn't particularly enjoy  keeping his affair with Nina a secret, but he knew he had to be careful.

"If anyone asks," Joe said, "we're picking up supplies for the inn."

"Good thinking."

But she seemed a little deflated, as if the secrecy was getting to her.  He lobbed her a quick glance, noticing the gold glimmers in her hair and  the soft poutiness of her lower lip, and his blood stirred again. He  could stare at her all day and never get his fill. She'd surprised him  over the last few days, the way she'd leaped in so enthusiastically to  help him without a second thought. His heart warmed once again.

Impulsively, he reached over and squeezed her free hand. "Thanks for all your help with the B&B."

She grinned sheepishly back at him. "You've said thank you already. You  don't have to keep saying it. And besides, I wasn't the only one. You  had your friends there, and they probably helped you more."

"Yeah, but I expect them to turn up, not you."

He thought of Deanne, the woman who had made him steer clear of any  further relationships, and how different she was from Nina. Deanne would  never have come out in a storm to help him. She wouldn't have supported  his dream of opening a B&B at all.

Nina was gazing at him rather penetratingly. "You keep yourself so busy  all the time," she said, blue eyes trained on him. "Is that how you  avoid having a girlfriend?"

Startled by her question, Joe almost drove off the road. When he was  back in control, he shook his head at her. "You know, you really  shouldn't spring a question like that on a guy when he's driving."         

     



 

"Sorry," she said, clearly unapologetic. "I'm just curious."

He clamped his hands around the steering wheel. "Clearly, you're not helping the cause."

She waved a hand. "I'm not auditioning for the part, but I'd like to  know. A guy like you … stable, driven, knows what he wants and goes after  it. You seem more like the type to be in a steady relationship, not  bouncing around from affair to affair." She lifted her shoulders. "But  you don't have to tell me. I know I'm too blunt sometimes."

He had no reason not to tell her about Deanne, now. He was over the hurt-nothing but scar tissue left.

"I broke up with my last girlfriend, Deanne, a few years back, just  after my nonna's accident," he said calmly. "She'd cheated on me. When I  confronted her, she said it was my fault because I spent too much time  on my grandmother and my business."

Nina gasped. "What a bitch! But you shouldn't let her ruin your whole life."

"Who said she ruined my life? I'm very happy without a girlfriend."

"Don't you want to get married one day and have kids?"

He gave her a wry smile. "You really don't mind asking personal questions, do you?"

"Hey, you and I are way past the polite stage, if we were ever there at all."

"Agreed. The truth is I don't have time for a girlfriend, let alone a  wife and kids. I'm busy enough as it is, and I'll be even more stretched  when I get the loan for my B&B."

The justifications slipped from his tongue, glib and practiced. How  often had he used these excuses? They sounded so plausible he almost  believed them himself. But deep down he knew he would move heaven and  earth not to allow anything to get between him and his woman. If she was  the right woman, that was.

Nina rolled her shoulders, as if she wanted to shake off the somber mood  that had come over them. "Well, seeing as you're such a busy beaver,  we'd better make the most of this afternoon, huh?"

Joe was more than happy to push aside his serious thoughts. He squeezed  her thigh and left his hand there. "Beaver, hmm? You read my mind."

She slapped his hand, feigning outrage. "Your mind is so dirty."

"Yeah, but you like it."

She walked her fingers up his forearm, making his skin tingle. "Yeah, I do."

But when they reached his house, getting naked with her wasn't the first thing on his mind.

"I've got something for you," he said as they walked into his living room.

She reached for him and put her arms around his neck. "I know," she  hummed, fitting his leg between her thighs and rubbing herself against  him. "I've been looking forward to it."

"Now who's got the dirty mind?" He pressed his thigh up against her  tight-fitting jeans and contemplated shuffling his priorities before  reluctantly straightening his leg. "Behave yourself."

"You behave yourself." She pouted.

He stared at her lips, momentarily distracted, then shook his head and  moved over to the couch where he picked up a large gift bag. He held it  out to her.

"Hope you like it," he said, feeling oddly self-conscious.

She didn't grab the bag at once. "You bought me a gift?" She seemed  stunned, as if she'd never received a present before. Accepting the gift  bag, she continued to stare at him.