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The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress(22)

By:Emma Darcy


‘I see you’re used to doing this kind of catering,’ he remarked after they’d been working together for a while.

‘Family parties. We all get together at Easter and Christmas,’ she explained with a shrug.

‘You have a big family?’

‘Three older brothers and one older sister. All married with children. I was the accident. Mum was forty when she had me.’

‘And how old are you?’

‘Twenty-seven.’

‘No marriage in view as yet?’

‘No.’

‘Boyfriend?’

She frowned at him. ‘That’s a very personal question.’

He shrugged. ‘You’ve been working for me for three weeks and I realise I hardly know anything about you, Daisy. Not even where you live.’

‘I live at Ryde with my parents.’

‘To save money, no doubt.’

She flashed him a grim look at his quick understanding. ‘Yes, a fact that my last boyfriend didn’t appreciate.’

‘Ah!’ His mouth twitched into a satisfied little smile.#p#分页标题#e#

Daisy was vexed with herself for letting that slip. If Ethan Cartwright was thinking she was free for fun and games, he could think again. She was not about to waste her time and emotion on a man who would dump her when he found another lady for the manor. She chopped up a cucumber with extra vigour.

‘How did your parents get into debt?’

The question surprised her, stirring a hope that he might toss out some free financial advice. She arranged her mouth into a rueful smile and looked directly at him as she answered. ‘Their superannuation manager directed them into investments which had gone bad. They borrowed money from the bank to renovate their home, believing they would have enough income to service the loan…’

‘And then the bottom fell out of the market,’ he finished for her. ‘Unfortunately a fairly common problem these days.’

It was an offhand dismissal of the subject. Daisy gritted her teeth over the stupid hope, then with a touch of resentment asked, ‘How is it that you knew better?’

‘My father is an economist,’ he answered matter-of-factly. ‘He was forecasting this financial blow-up for years. For the most part it didn’t suit people to listen to him. Many wrote him off as a crackpot academic.’

‘But you didn’t.’

He shook his head. ‘Numbers don’t lie. Numbers made the crash inevitable.’

She wished she could ask him to look at her parents’ investment portfolio, tell them where best to put what was left of their money, but such expert advice was his business. It wouldn’t come free and even if she could afford his fees, it would still smack of asking him for a favour, taking on an extra client whose nest-egg wouldn’t be big enough to earn him much of a commission. Favours put people under obligation to return them and she had nothing to offer Ethan Cartwright.

Except…

No, don’t go there, she sternly told herself.

Giving in to sexual chemistry was one thing.

Wanting financial pillow-talk out of it was something else.

But he’d be using her so why shouldn’t she use him?

The idea of having sex with him had been squirrelling around in her mind for weeks. She wanted to know how it would feel. He was, without a doubt, the most attractive man she’d ever met. It was only natural to be tempted to have the experience even though it wouldn’t lead to a serious relationship, and if there were side benefits…at least that would make up for being dumped afterwards. She could come out winning.

On the other hand, that was a gamble and she didn’t gamble.

The higher probability was she would come out losing…losing this job before she could find another, losing her self-esteem, losing her sense of right and wrong, and it was certainly wrong to barter sex for help. This wasn’t exactly a survival situation. She could manage it by herself. But for how long? And at what cost to her own life?

Heaving a despondent sigh, she picked up the punnet of cherry tomatoes and started cutting them in half to add to the green salad. He was whipping up a homemade dressing, blending Spanish onion with vinegar, sugar, vegetable oil, water, salt and mustard. The blender was switched off long enough for him to dip a finger into the mixture and lift that finger to his mouth for tasting.

Her heart did a ridiculous flip. It wasn’t a deliberately erotic action. Although when he saw her looking at him, those devilish green eyes sparkled wickedly. The urgent need for some down-to-earth distraction made her grab at the first non-sexual thought that ran through her mind.

‘How come you’re so into cooking?’ she blurted out.