The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress(25)

Maybe the tradesmen had made some joking remarks to Ethan about her conscientious devotion to duty, suggesting he loosen the work-rein on her today, possibly implying she deserved some time off. The niggling criticism would have irked him, given that she was supposed to be enjoying the party with them. Whatever…she had to be careful not to arouse his displeasure again.

The problem was in not being able to act normally around him. He made her so tense all the time, having to fight the attraction he exerted on her. She should probably check where he was, try to judge from his expression if her swift response to his angry command had mollified the offence she had given. On the other hand, if she just sat here quietly, keeping her attention on the women, she shouldn’t get into any more trouble.

‘Daisy…’

Her nerves instantly twitched at the sound of Ethan’s voice, but at least there was no sharp edge to it this time. The tone held quite a pleasant lilt and she quickly constructed an inquiring smile as she turned in response to the call.

He stood halfway along the side of the pool, beckoning to her, obviously intent on a private tête-à-tête. It meant she had to get out of the water and go to meet him, wearing nothing but a dripping-wet bikini since she’d left her towel on the other side of the pool and she didn’t dare keep him waiting while she went and picked it up.

‘What’s it like working for such a gorgeous hunk?’ one of the women slung at her curiously as Daisy rose to her feet and started up the steps.

Difficult almost slipped off her tongue. The spectre of Lynda Twiggley blasting her for indiscretion rattled her just in time. She flashed a smile at the woman, quickly answering, ‘He’s actually very kind, very generous.’

‘Then you’ve got a brilliant package there.’ An encouraging grin was thrown back at her. ‘You should go for him, Daisy.’

She shook her head. ‘Not a good idea. But right now I have to go to him, so please excuse me.’

The women laughed at her quip and she left them to their own amusement, forcing her legs to walk around the pool to the man who was, indeed, brilliantly packaged, and the gorgeous hunk part of the package was very much on display. It didn’t matter how sternly she told herself not to find him desirable. She did. Any woman would.

He had the physical perfection of Michelangelo’s David, every masculine muscle shining under taut, tanned skin, vibrantly alive, not carved in cold white marble. Ethan Cartwright, wearing only a brief scrap of black fabric that seemed like a brazen pouch exhibiting even more sexual power, was hot, hot, hot, and just the sight of him made her own blood race with heat. It was impossible to control the response he drew from her.

Her heart thumped. Her stomach fluttered. She was acutely conscious of her bare thighs rubbing together as she walked towards him. And worst of all, with his gaze directly on her approach, taking in the full vision of her body in the red bikini, she felt her nipples tightening into hard bullets with no way of hiding that fact under a wet bra. It was difficult to resist the urge to fold her arms against her chest. Reason insisted that action would only emphasise her self-consciousness and a stiff bolt of pride refused to give into such obvious weakness.

Nevertheless, anxiety rushed her into speech the moment she was close enough to him not to be overheard. ‘Have I done something else wrong?’

His far too sensual mouth moved into an ironic grimace. ‘No. I want to apologise for being so curt with you. I didn’t mean to frighten you into acting like a scalded cat. Your job here is not at risk, Daisy. I just don’t want you to be scarred by your experience with Lynda Twiggley. It won’t hurt you to be more relaxed with me.’

‘No. Okay,’ she agreed, relieved that he was no longer annoyed with her. To be absolutely sure of not making another mistake, she asked, ‘What is the agenda now?’

He waved towards the group of men at the other end of the pool. ‘The guys and I are about to start the barbecue and put the meat on. Why not rustle up the ladies to help bring down the salads and generally get ready for lunch? No hurry. Keep it casual and friendly.’

‘Will do,’ she promised.

‘They’ll all be gone by three o’clock. Children to be picked up from school and an early start to the weekend for the men. Since you missed out on a game of tennis this morning, I’ll play a set with you then.’ He gave her a cheerful grin. ‘Can’t have you bringing a tennis racquet for nothing.’

He tossed these last words at her as he started strolling back to the barbecue area, leaving Daisy openmouthed, struggling for a protest or an excuse to escape playing with him—being alone with him. She had the sinking feeling he would accept neither, anyway.