The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress(14)

Having reached the front door, she took a deep, calming breath and pressed the call button. Ethan Cartwright did not give her time to twiddle her thumbs. The door was opened within seconds and the oxygen Daisy had drawn in was instantly trapped in her lungs.

The man was utterly, utterly gorgeous.

He was dressed in a superbly tailored dark grey suit, white shirt and a silk tie striped in red, grey and green. Some nose-prickling exotic cologne had been splashed on his strong, freshly shaven jaw. His thick, black hair flopped onto his forehead in an endearing wave. The green eyes sparkled as though he was delighted to see her and his smile kicked her heart into thumping like a drum.

‘Good morning!’ he said cheerfully, his rich male voice making her ears tingle.

‘Hi!’ was all she managed to croak.

‘Come on in and I’ll show you around,’ he invited, stepping back and waving her forward.

He’s not for me, he’s not for me, he’s not for me, her mind wildly recited as she willed her feet to move. The job was obviously still on. All she had to do was be sensible and adopt a strictly practical attitude.

The verandah had been tiled in a grey-and-white diamond pattern. This was repeated in the wide hallway she stepped into, but with an inset border featuring a black-and-white scroll. This border led to and framed a central staircase which curved up to the top floor, the balustrade painted in a shiny black lacquer, the steps carpeted in dark red.

‘Wow!’ she murmured.

‘Do you like the red?’ he asked, looking quizzically at her.

‘Well, the effect is very dramatic,’ she said cau tiously, unsure if this was some kind of test.

‘I’m thinking of recarpeting in green.’

‘Green would look good.’

‘You don’t have to agree,’ he said dryly.

‘No, I think green would be easier to live with. The red is a bit in your face. Though it’s all a matter of taste, isn’t it? I wouldn’t bother changing it if you’re planning to sell. Let the new owner choose.’#p#分页标题#e#

‘I’m not planning to sell.’

She looked at him in surprise.

His eyes bored in hers. ‘I intend to make this my

place.’ ‘It’s a big place for one person,’ she couldn’t help commenting.

‘I’m tired of living in an apartment. I want space.’

‘Well, you’ve certainly got it here,’ she said, barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes at the sheer extravagance of how much space he’d bought for himself.

His mouth quirked. ‘You don’t think I’ll use it all?’

Caution held her tongue again. ‘It’s not for me to say.’

Amusement danced in his eyes. He ushered her to double doors to the right of the staircase. ‘This was the drawing room. It will become my games room.’

‘Games?’ she queried, looking at the huge expanse of dark red carpet and the magnificent white fireplace on the far wall, in her mind’s eye seeing it furnished in the kind of graceful antiques people put in grand houses.

‘All sorts of board games, card games. I have a group of friends who get together to play on Tuesday nights. I’ve acquired a large collection of games over the years and I’m having shelves and cupboards built along the internal walls in here to house them.’

She shook her head, amazed that a man like him enjoyed such ordinary pastimes. It was what her family did when they got together, playing games around the kitchen table.

‘You don’t like the idea?’ he probed.

‘If no expense is to be spared on these renovations, I’d put in a bar as well,’ she suggested, a teasing grin breaking out on her face. ‘Gaming is thirsty work.’

It was his turn to look surprised. ‘You play, too?’

‘I’m the current family champion at Scrabble,’ she proudly declared. ‘And I’ve been known to clean them all up at poker.’

He laughed, and suddenly there was a connection sizzling between them that knocked every bit of common sense out of Daisy’s head. He didn’t seem quite so high and mighty, more human like her, and she wished she could join his gaming group on Tuesday nights.

He cocked his head assessingly. ‘I hadn’t thought of a bar in here, but it would be handy. And a pantry for nibbles. Speak to Charlie about it.’

‘Who’s Charlie?’

‘Charlie Hollier, my architect. He’ll be dropping by some time today. Tell him to add a bar and pantry to the plan for this room. It will save trips to the kitchen.’

Just like that, Daisy thought, remembering how obscenely wealthy he was and telling herself that he and his friends undoubtedly played high-stakes poker which she could never afford. Her family counted their wins in plastic chips, no money involved at all.