Maid for Montero - By Kim Lawrence Page 0,41

within a whisper of following his instincts and diving in.

If he had, who knew what the outcome might have been? She called herself a strong swimmer but he knew what he had seen. Though he actually was a strong swimmer, there remained a question mark—could he have reached her in time?

It was possible they might both have perished.

She stiffened as she shot to her feet, every muscle in her body clenched and defensive, refusing to acknowledge the cold fear in her belly. Clasping her hands together, she blew out her breath slowly and flicked back her wet hair.

‘What did you say?’ Her tone was conversational. She had obviously misheard him—nobody would be that brutal, that totally…totally vile.

‘You’re sacked.’

Desperation overcame her anger and she crumbled. ‘I’m really trying—’

‘Do not beg, Zoe. This is not open for discussion.’ She bit her lip.

‘It doesn’t matter how much you try. You’re uniquely unsuited to the role of housekeeper. I think it’ll be easier all around if we cut our losses rather than drag this out. You are not the sort of housekeeper I need.’ You’re the sort of sex I need.

Panic made her voice shrill as she came back, ‘I could be. It’s just I can’t relax around you…’ She caught his look and added quickly, ‘Because you’re my employer.’

Quite suddenly he was tired of this pretence. Sensual mouth compressed, his chiselled cheekbones jutting hard against his golden skin, he silenced her with a sharp jerk of his head as he rose to his feet. ‘That situation has got nothing to do with the fact I pay your wages. A strong sexual connection makes all our encounters less than relaxing, especially when you work so hard trying to pretend it doesn’t exist.’

Zoe turned her head, her mouth open to produce a strong rebuttal, her eyes connected with his glowing dark gaze. Her biggest fear had been him guessing the way she felt, and now he had. So what, she thought despairingly, was the point denying it?

‘Don’t you find it exhausting, Zoe?’ he asked softly.

She stood there mutely staring at him. Inside she was dying of sheer mortification. This was her boss saying he knew she secretly lusted after him. What was she meant to say to that?

For a split second his resolve wavered. She looked so pale, so vulnerable. But it only wavered briefly. Another month like this one and he’d be a basket case.

‘I can only assume you’ve had some problems in the past with female staff and…crushes, but I promise you’re safe from me.’

He didn’t want to be safe from her.

‘Good to know, but you’re still sacked.’

She flinched. The bastard had said it the way someone remarked on the weather. Somewhere deep inside her, rage stirred. ‘Because I don’t fancy you.’

‘If that were true, there would be no problem.’

Her chest swelled as she flung him a look of withering contempt. ‘Even if you were right I have my own rules, too. And the first one is that I never have sex with a man I don’t respect. Believe you me, that rules you out, you contemptuous little snake!’

He gave a low throaty chuckle.

‘Why didn’t you just sack me on that first day?’ That would have been bad but this was worse. Thinking her job was secure, she’d allowed herself to relax, she’d allowed herself to sit here thinking stupid ridiculous thoughts about him, imagining that they might even…Stupid…stupid…stupid! She was so angry with herself she wanted to scream. She took a deep breath and slung a look of loathing his way.

‘I didn’t sack you at that point because my company is in the middle of some sensitive negotiations which could mean a lot of…’ He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. ‘You are not interested in the whys, but the success of this deal will mean something in the region of a thousand jobs over a five-year period.’

‘What’s that got to do with me?’

‘It’s about protecting my company’s brand. Any negative publicity would send the clients running for the hills, and the story of me sacking a woman because she used my property to host a charity fund-raiser would be the worst-possible PR.’

Trying to think beyond the static buzz in her head, a combination of anger and panic, she only really processed one word in two of what he was saying. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Because you are an innocent.’

How long would her savings last…a month, two…? After that what was she going to do?

‘I really hate you.’ Her