Maid for the Billionaire(6)

A jab of excitement shot through him. "I'm not sure you have to."

Their eyes met and there was no hiding the attraction sizzling between them. She looked away first, busying herself by settling back onto her cushion and carefully opening a pair of chopsticks. He knelt on his own cushion without taking his eyes off her. When she reached for one of the boxes, an odd anticipation filled him. He knew next to nothing about her, but her preferences mattered to him.

Next to nothing? he chided himself. Hell, he didn't even know her name. He'd avoided asking for the same reason he hadn't offered his own. Just for tonight, he didn't want the outside world to intrude.

"Thank you," he said simply.

Her hand jerked and she almost dropped the sweet and sour chicken she was spooning onto her plate. At the last second, she righted the box and placed it back on table with a shaky hand. "For what?"

He waited till she looked back up at him before he answered. "For staying."

She cocked her head to one side and said quietly, "You looked like you needed someone to talk to."

"Talk?" he scoffed. That wasn't what women normally offered him and certainly not what he was looking for this evening. He gave her his best suggestive smile. "Is that really what you think I need?"

Completely unexpectedly, she mocked instead of melted. "Wait. Don't tell me. You don't do that, either."

He couldn't help it. He laughed. She had a dry wit that tickled his sense of humor. How long had it been since he'd found a woman anything more than tediously emotional or clingy? "You're nothing like the women I'm used to," he said spontaneously. As she started to sputter a response, he spoke over her. "In a good way."

She groaned and looked away. "Let's not go there again."

He leaned over the table to cup her chin lightly with a finger, raising it until she looked at him again. "Obviously my charm is rusty." He ran his thumb lightly over her lips, watched them part instinctively and fought back the desire to haul her up on the small table between them. "I'm trying to tell you that I find you very attractive."

Swallowing nervously, she pulled her chin out of his grasp. In a dismissive manner, she picked up her chopsticks again. "If you want anything more than companionship over a meal, you've asked the wrong woman," she said and quickly filled her mouth with rice as he digested her comment.#p#分页标题#e#

He sat back on his heels. "So prim and proper. Do you start all of your dates with such declarations?"

Between deliberately casual bites of food, she said, "This isn't a date."

"It could be."

She choked on her food and reached for her glass of water. After a few gulps, she stood and said, "This was a mistake."

He quickly stood and blocked her exit. He felt her breath quicken. "Tell me I'm not crazy. Tell me you're just as tempted." He pulled her slowly toward him, until her body was flush against his.

"I really don't think this is a good idea."

He brushed his lips softly over hers, successfully silencing her protests. For a moment, she remained unresponsive, frozen in his arms. Then with a shudder, her lips began to move against his. As he deepened the kiss, she relaxed against him with a sigh and wrapped her previously rigid arms warmly around his neck.

He shifted backwards, so she came up onto her tiptoes and rested more fully on his excitement. With a moan, she moved against him, exciting him more. Nothing mattered except this feeling, this woman, this evening.

"Stay tonight," he whispered into her neck. "If I had known that my maid was this sexy, I would have come back to Boston a long time ago."

She pulled back so abruptly that he dropped his arms.

"Crap," she said and continued to back away from him.

He reached for her again, but she evaded him this time. Whatever connection they'd shared had clearly been broken by his mention of her career. He scolded himself for stupidly mentioning it.

"I have to go," she sidestepped a wide circle around him, trying to get to the door before him.

"Stay. I know this is crazy. I've always made sure to steer clear of…"

"Dating the help?" she suggested, her tone full of the judgment it had held earlier.

"Yes, but only because I never wanted to put anyone in an awkward position…" he acknowledged the irony of his words as he tried to get between her in the door. Somehow this was different. She was different.

"How nice of you," she spoke over him.

"I don't care that you're a maid. It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

He blocked her exit. She couldn't leave. Not like this.