His Millionaire Maid(7)

The sun was barely up by the time he’d finished his morning run and showered, changed, and breakfasted. He had a busy day ahead. First, he had a meeting with the nurse manager at the nursing home a twenty-minute drive away where his nonna Lina now lived since her car accident. He never missed the monthly meetings. As far as he could tell, his grandmother was content enough at the home, but he liked to be aware of any changes to her routine.

Then it was back to Hartley for a committee meeting at ten, which would take at least an hour, so by the time he got back to the Comet Inn, Nina would be gone. He wouldn’t have to see her and become further aggravated. Or stimulated.

Just before eleven, he walked into the inn and made straight for his office. Now that Nina had left, he’d have to scramble to find a replacement, plus there was all the cleaning she was supposed to do—work he’d probably end up doing himself.

He was at his desk searching for the number of the employment agency when he heard a clattering noise down the hall followed by a muffled curse. Poking his head out of his office door, he spotted Nina battling with the industrial vacuum cleaner. The two coffees he’d drunk suddenly began burning a hole in his stomach.

He walked out and stood in front of her. “What are you doing?”

She dumped the vacuum cleaner on the floor, wiped the back of her forearm across her brow, and blinked at him. “Doing weights with oversize vacuum cleaners is a hobby of mine, didn’t you know?”

Her face was hot and flushed, and strands of her blonde hair stuck to her temples. She wore the same clothes as yesterday, the T-shirt more wrinkled, the leg of her jeans stained. She looked sweaty and grubby and scrappy. Something in his chest flipped over and squeezed the air from his lungs.

“You’ve decided to stay?” He should have been annoyed, but instead couldn’t help the corners of his mouth tweaking up.

“Looks like it,” she said.

“Because you want to prove yourself to me?”

“I’m doing this for me. Nothing to do with you.”

“Nothing at all? Not even a tiny bit?” Joe leaned his shoulder against the wall. He shouldn’t be feeling this lighthearted just because she’d decided to stay.

“Okay, you got me. Yeah, I admit it. I’m staying because I have a massive crush on you.” She swept her blue gaze over him, assessing him, and a strange tingling raced across Joe’s chest. Even his damn nipples were reacting to her.

He managed not to swallow. “You do?”

“Sure. I mean, no girl could resist all that Italian stallionness oozing out of you.” She fluttered a hand at him. “So you’d better be ready to catch me in case I swoon at your feet.”

He hid his amusement. “And you’re just assuming I’d be happy to let you stay on?”

The sass slipped from her expression, and her mouth fell open. Aha, she hadn’t thought of that one.

“Don’t you want me to?”

“Well, let’s see now.” He made a show of stroking his chin and pretending to ponder the matter. “Do I want someone who’s inexperienced and has a conniption when the shower acts up?”

Nina’s cheeks grew pinker. “I had a bad day yesterday. The shower was the straw that broke this camel’s back.”

“And I can guarantee you’ll have another bad day in the future, probably not far off. Are you going to threaten to pack up again? Because I don’t have the time or inclination to be your personal cheer squad every time you chip a fingernail or something.”

She swallowed, looking like she was battling to hold her tongue. “I hate to break it to you, but being a personal cheer squad is not your forte.”

Joe couldn’t help grinning at that. “True. I don’t go in for that managerial motivational-speak.”

“If I promise to hunker down, can I keep the job?”

She flashed him a winning smile that sent a powerful shaft of lust straight to his crotch. Hoh, boy. How was he going to maintain the hard-ass boss attitude if one smile from her could give him a semi-on? He never got involved with his staff; that was a hard and fast rule. Apart from it being unprofessional, a messy entanglement could sour the tight-knit team he’d built up and, even worse, a lawsuit could ruin him, especially now, when his finances were stretched tight and he was struggling to get a bank loan.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, well, let’s say you’re on probation for the next month.” He scratched his head, waiting for his blood to return northward to his brain. “What have you done so far this morning?”

Nina expelled a breath. “I’ve changed the linen in the rooms where the guests checked out and cleaned the bathrooms. Now I’m about to do the carpets.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You did all that on your own initiative?”

“It’s not that hard to figure out.” She hefted up the vacuum cleaner. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more cleaning to do.”

“Let me carry that for you.” He reached for the vacuum, but she shook her head.

“You don’t usually do that for your maids, do you?”

“No, but…” It didn’t seem right to let her lug that bulky piece of equipment up the stairs. Not when he was imagining himself kissing her.

“I can manage.” To prove her words, she shuffled past him and headed for the reception lobby.

Joe watched her progress. As she reached the foot of the staircase, Vince rushed out of the bar and swooped the vacuum cleaner out of her hands before she could say anything.

“Let me give you a hand,” Vince chirped.

Joe waited for Nina to tell Vince she didn’t need his help, but instead she gave him a brilliant beam and bounced after him. Joe scowled and turned back to his office.



An hour later, Joe was outside the inn pinning up a poster for the upcoming Hartley Food and Wine Festival when Vince ambled up to him.

“So you never told me how the bank meeting went yesterday,” Vince said.

“Not good. The loan officer didn’t like my numbers, so my application was rejected.”

Vince grimaced. “That sucks.”

“Yeah.” Joe shook his head. Nina’s arrival had temporarily distracted him, but now he had to face his financial difficulties. The Comet Inn was doing well, but Joe wanted to expand into the high-end B&B market. Six months ago he’d bought a grand but dilapidated mansion on a fifty-acre block just out of town. Since it was an estate sale, he’d purchased it before securing funding for the renovations. The property had great business potential, but so far he’d had no luck finding a bank willing to loan him the sizable amount he needed.

“What will you do?” Vince pulled on his lower lip, looking worried. “You’re not going to give in to those Beaumont pricks, are you?”

Joe’s back tensed. “No way. I’d sooner pull out my fingernails than let Carson Beaumont take my property.”

He’d never met Carson Beaumont. Instead, the multimillionaire jerk had sent his black-suited corporate thugs to cajole and threaten Joe into selling his proposed B&B to them. Not that Beaumont, Inc. was interested in running a B&B. No, they were interested in the ocean views and the road access his property would give them to their potential new development. They were interested in razing the grand old mansion to the ground and plunking down a flashy megaresort that would totally ruin Hartley.

“I’m not done yet,” Joe said. “There are other banks.”

But he wasn’t filled with hope. The loan officer had been fidgety, embarrassed even when he rejected Joe’s application. As if there was more to it than he was letting on. Joe was beginning to suspect Beaumont, Inc. was somehow behind his difficulties in getting a bank loan.

“Good.” Vince nodded. “I’d hate to see a Beaumont resort here. They’ve already spoiled Sonoma. Why can’t they stay the hell out of Hartley?”

“I’m working on it, Vince.”

Vince returned to the inn while Joe finished pinning the poster. He walked back into the reception lobby just as Nina appeared.

“Hi,” she said. “Got a minute?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his interest piqued by her furtive manner.

She plucked at her jeans, looking slightly embarrassed. “The thing is, I had all my clothes stolen, remember? This is all I own at the moment. I can wash my T-shirt and underwear each night, but if I don’t get some spare things soon, I’m going to start smelling funky. And I really need to get some more comfortable shoes, because these boots are killing me. I know it’s a bit much to ask, but could I have an advance on my wages? Say, forty dollars?”

“Sure.” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and pulled out a couple of twenties.

“Thanks.” Her cheeks were pink as she took the money from him. “I’d better put this in my room.” She hurried away from him, hands in the pockets of her jeans.

“I saw that!” Sarah stood in the entrance to the bar, her arms crossed and a black scowl darkening her forehead. “It’s bad enough you hiring her on a whim, but now you’re giving her money, too?”

“Not giving, lending.”

“There’s no way she’s ever worked in a coffee shop. After what I saw last night, I doubt she has any service experience at all.” Sarah was getting even more worked up. “There’s something fishy about her. I’m convinced she’s hiding something.”