His Millionaire Maid(8)

Maybe Sarah had a point, Joe mused. Nina had seemed cagey about her past. But then again, plenty of people were. She wasn’t the first to come here looking for a fresh start.

Joe shrugged. “Even if she is, it doesn’t mean she’s not honest.”

“Are you into her? Is that why she’s got you twisted around her little finger?”

Joe’s jaw clamped tight. “I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge of this place.”

He’d spoken evenly, but it was enough for Sarah to blush, a rare occurrence for her. “If I stepped out of line, I’m sorry,” she said, “but maybe you’re forgetting I’m more than just your chef. I’m your friend, too, and I’d hate to see you being taken for a ride.”

Joe sighed. Sarah was right; they were friends, and she had every right to call him out on his peculiar behavior. But it irked him that she thought Nina had some kind of hold over him. She didn’t. Sure, he had a hard time not thinking about her, and every conversation they had set off tiny fireworks in him, but he wasn’t enslaved by her. He wasn’t going to let a little inconvenient lust fog up his brain.

“D’you really think a girl like Nina could have me twisted around her little finger?” he scoffed.

Sarah slowly shook her head. “Guess not. You get plenty of women throwing themselves at you, and you never lose your head over any of them.”

“Damn right I don’t.” Deanne had taught him his lesson. Since then, he made sure his amorous adventures were strictly temporary. That way his emotions were never in danger. Besides, he didn’t have the time or energy for a serious relationship. He had the Comet Inn, his grandmother, and his new business venture, as well as his commitments to the Hartley business community and his soccer team, all keeping him busy. A serious girlfriend would only complicate his already overloaded life.

“Fine. You can handle it.” Sarah turned to head back to the kitchen and said over her shoulder, “Besides, that Nina Summers hardly seems like your type.”

Joe was left standing there, his teeth grinding. How did Sarah know what his type was? Did he even have a type? Judging by the way his body reacted to Nina’s presence since she’d arrived, he had to admit not only was she his type, but she was also in a unique class of her own made specifically to tempt him.

Rubbing his face, Joe headed for his office. He needed some time alone.

…

Friday passed in a blur of drudgery. Nina wasn’t a stranger to hard work, but by the end of the day she realized that weekly Zumba and yoga sessions were no preparation for being a maid or busgirl.

Joe ran a tight ship at the Comet Inn, and everyone was expected to pull his or her weight. Though he was the undisputed boss of the place, he pitched in wherever he was needed, worked harder than anyone else, and his employees seemed to genuinely like and respect him.

Nina didn’t get any special concessions from him because she was new and inexperienced. After she’d readied the rooms for their Friday night guests, he inspected her work and found several things she’d missed or hadn’t done to his satisfaction. As he spelled out her shortcomings, he wore a slightly cynical expression, as if he expected her to argue, but she didn’t. Determined not to give him the chance to criticize her attitude, she smiled blandly and got on with the job.

Friday night at the Comet Inn was frenetic, and even though Joe hired extra staff for his busy nights, they were still swamped. By the time the kitchen closed, Nina was staggering on her feet, so fatigued that Sarah’s whiplash tongue barely penetrated the fog of exhaustion enveloping her. She tossed her soiled apron into the laundry bin and trudged past the bar. She’d meant to hang out with Vince, but she was too tired to socialize, and besides, Vince seemed busy.

In the lobby she bumped into Joe, and, with her last ounce of energy, she mustered up a nod for him.

“Good night. I’m not even attempting that freaky shower tonight. I’m going to fall straight into bed.” She was too exhausted to even keep up the pretense of coping in front of Joe.

His dark eyes softened as he reached out and clasped her shoulder. “Didn’t you have any breaks today?”

The weight of his hand sent a warm buzz through her. “Not really. It took longer than I expected to get the last guest rooms in order.”

“You’re entitled to a thirty-minute break every five hours. You should’ve taken them.” His thumb rotated absentmindedly on her shoulder at the neckline of her T-shirt, and the feel of his thumb pad against her skin emitted a rush of heat through her body. Her fatigue vanished, replaced by a startling, troublesome desire.

“I want to pass probation.”

“But I don’t want you passing out,” Joe said, his eyes heavy lidded, enigmatic. “It’s too bad the inn is booked solid or you could’ve used one of the free bathrooms.” He paused, then added casually, “You can always take a shower at my place.”

With you? The question burst into her mind, accompanied by graphic images of showering with Joe. Hard muscle, cascading water, Joe’s firm ass clasped in her hands, and his hungry lips moving over hers… Sexual need spiked in her, sharpening to a tight, hot throb between her legs. Holy hell. She had a full-on lust for this guy.

“Your p-place?” she stuttered, her lungs not working. “Uh, where’s that?”

“About ten minutes out of town. I’ve got a house on a few acres. Nice and quiet.”

She cleared her throat, which had suddenly become the Sahara Desert. “The others would get suspicious if the maid took a shower at your place.” She could feel her face growing red.

He huffed out a breath, looking almost regretful. “Yeah, they probably would.”

She should’ve grabbed his offer as soon as he’d made it. But that would’ve been reckless. “I don’t want people to think I’m any different from the last maid you had.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “The last maid was a bodybuilder who could whip this place into shape in a few hours without breaking a sweat. I doubt you could be any more different from her, but I get your point.” His hand dropped away, and Nina missed the contact, but at least she could breathe again.

Now that Joe wasn’t touching her, common sense returned. She hadn’t gone to all this trouble disguising her identity just to hook up with a hunky Italian who offered her free hot showers in his private home. Besides, Joe’s offer might be perfectly innocent. He might only be a concerned employer. He might not be attracted to her at all, because how attractive could she be in these icky clothes that she’d worn for two straight days? Suddenly self-conscious of her grimy appearance, she ran her fingers through her messy hair and tugged at her stained T-shirt.

“Are there any shops open tomorrow where I could get some cheap clothing? I really need to get out of these.”

She caught a sudden spark in his eyes, as if the idea of her getting out of clothes intrigued him. “Try the thrift store down the road.”

“Okay.”

“What size are you?” His gaze traveled lazily over her breasts and hips.

Nina concentrated on her breathing. “Why?”

“My sister, Carla, keeps clothes at my place. I could give you some of hers.”

“Wouldn’t she mind?”

“I doubt it. She took most of her stuff when she moved to New York a few months ago. Anything precious left behind she packed in boxes marked ‘Do not touch.’”

“Oh. Is she your only sibling?” Nina asked, curiosity overcoming her.

“Yup. Our parents died more than a decade ago, so we’re close.”

“I’m sorry about your parents. I lost my mom when I was thirteen.” She paused for a breath. “So what’s your sister doing in New York? College?”

“She graduated from Princeton this year. Now she’s taken an internship at the UN.” Pride animated his voice.

“Wow. She sounds like a go-getter.”

“That she is. She wanted to do the internship before entering grad school. She’s only twenty-two, but she’s always been interested in public policy. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up becoming the secretary-general one day.”

Carla Farina was younger than Nina, but it sounded like she’d had her act together for ages. Which made Nina feel like even more of an underachiever.

“Carla won’t mind if I give you a few of her things,” Joe continued, surveying her legs. “She’s a little taller than you, but just as thin.”

Joe had given her a job and a place to stay and loaned her money. If she started accepting clothes from him, she’d be in danger of becoming a complete charity case, and that wasn’t why she’d embarked on this lifestyle change.

“That’s very generous of you, but I can’t,” she said. “You’ve already done more than enough for me, but thanks for the offer.”

“Sure.” Joe lifted his shoulders. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Wishing him good night, she inched past him.

When she’d hatched this crazy scheme, she hadn’t factored in the possibility of men, and even if she had, nothing in her past experience could have prepared her for the fizzing pull of attraction she felt every time Joe came near her, an attraction she couldn’t seem to suppress or control. She hadn’t felt that way since, well, forever. Even Oliver, her rat ex, whom she’d supposedly fallen madly in love with, had never affected her the way Joe did.