Maid for the Billionaire(7)
"Stay."
"I can't. I really have to go."
"That's not what you want."
"What I want is for you to stop blocking the door," she declared.
His hands fell to his side and he stepped out of her way. She couldn't mean that. "Why deny it? You want me just as much as I want you."
She brushed past him and into the main foyer without so much as a glance back. Her voice sounded more flustered than angry. "I told you that I had stayed to share a meal with you, nothing more."
Her attraction to him hadn't been in his imagination. She'd enjoyed that kiss as much as he had. First hot, then cold. Was it all a game? If so, it was one that he had no intention of losing.
He knew of one way to find out her real motivation.
"Would you stay for ten thousand dollars?" he asked.
He felt a stab of disappointment when she stopped before opening the door and turned back to face him. "Do you think I'm for sale?"
He hoped not.
"How about a hundred thousand?" He forced the words out.
"Is it because I'm a maid that you think you can talk to me this way?" Her hands were back on her hips, eyes flashing with fury, which only made her more beautiful.
The final test. "You're a shrewd bargainer. A million. I've never met a woman who was worth that amount of money, but I suspect I won't regret tonight."
She opened the door with one hand and said, "You're a pig, an egotistical pig. If you even have a million dollars, I suggest you roll it up and stick it up your…" the last word was lost beneath the sound of the door slamming behind her.
He had a pretty good idea where she'd suggested he put it.
His chuckle blossomed into a full, hearty laugh until he was wiping wetness from around his eyes. The release of tension felt good. Damn, that is one incredible woman. Looking back over the evening, he gave into more laughter as he settled back onto one of the cushions by the coffee table and filled his plate with fried rice.
She'd be back.
He'd make sure of that.
Chapter Four
The sound of that big oaf laughing made Abby want to reopen the door and throw a shoe at his smug face. She didn't, though. Instead, she made herself breathe deeply as she descended the stone stairs. A large part of her job consisted of extolling the virtues of non-violent responses to conflict. Mr. Armani evoked a strong rebuttal to that philosophy.
He'd actually offered her money like a common prostitute. What kind of man does that? The kind of man, she reminded herself, who looked like he slept in his car when he left bars.
Abby looked over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't following her out of the brownstone and told herself that she wasn't disappointed that he hadn't. The man was an arrogant ass. A big, gorgeous, sexy, arrogant ass.
A flashy, black car had parked carelessly close to the rear of her slightly rusted, blue Saturn sedan. It had plenty of room behind it. Whoever owned the car had pinned her in out of indifference, rather than necessity. She inched her car forward, then back, but didn't have room to get out of her parallel parking spot.
What kind of … wait, it couldn't be. The license plate had said New York. She'd bet her last dollar that Mr. Armani had driven his trophy car up to Boston.
She set her car in reverse and acted on an impulse; slowly backing her car until it thumped the other. Both bumpers protested and her tires spun, but eventually the cars reversed a few inches. As she pulled forward and into traffic, she quickly looked back in her rearview mirror. His bumper was scratched and slightly dented, but it was nothing more than he deserved and she didn't care if he knew she'd done it. In fact, she would have gladly signed the masterpiece had she been able to.
Who's laughing now? she thought and headed for home.
The triumph was short lived. What was she going to tell Lil? Had she set out to get her sister fired, she couldn't have been more thorough. Even if he didn't mention her general appearance or inappropriate behavior, there was always the chance that he'd report her for damaging his vehicle.
She should feel bad about that. In fact, she had every intention of deeply regretting that move when she was forced to explain it to Lil, but for now, it still felt right. She couldn't suppress a smile as she imagined his expression when he saw what she'd done. He'd be furious!
The idea of making him angry was unexpectedly a turn on for Abby. A man like that wouldn't stay angry. He'd yell at first then pull her against him and their mutual passion would take it from there. Would they make it as far as the bedroom or would the stairs have to suffice?
Abby turned on the car's air conditioner to cool her face. She really had to stop thinking about him that way. The man might be good looking, but he had the social skills of a cockroach. He offered to buy me for the night, for goodness sake.