Free The Billionaire Affair by Diana Hamilton

untamed male.
    All she could do was give him a wide smile of glorious recognition and take the hand he held out to her. And so it had begun…
    Caroline gave a shaky sigh then tightened her lips. She’d been such a gullible fool then, and last night she’d have gone down the same path if Ben hadn’t demonstrated that he wasn’t remotely interested.
    But it was no use brooding about it or wishing it hadn’t happened. It had and she had to put it out of her head, salvage some pride, do her job and get out of here as quickly as she could.
    A shower helped a little. No way was she going to dress in the old jeans and top Linda had lent her and scrabble around in the dusty attics. Today of all days she needed to have all flags flying, to retrieve some of her pride and somehow try to wipe away the shame.
    Ben wouldn’t be around to see what she looked like but she needed to look her best for her own sake.
    Teaming the elegantly cut linen trousers she’d worn to the restaurant with an oyster silk shirt and a narrow tan belt she spent far longer than usual on her make-up, achieving a discreet and perfect mask. Then she fixed her glossy hair into her nape with a mock-tortoiseshell comb.
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    Linda was at the kitchen table, a sheet of paper in front of her. She got up, smiling, as Caroline entered. ‘Good—I was just about to leave you a note; now I don’t have to bother. There’s cold stuff in the fridge and loads of tins in the wall cupboards. So help yourself. I guess the boss will do the same—he’s already left for Shrewsbury… And don’t tell me you’re going to tackle the attics in that outfit! Didn’t the jeans and top fit?’
    â€˜I’m sure they will.’ Caroline followed her nose to the coffee pot. ‘I thought I’d give the attics a miss today and make a start on the first floor.’ She lifted the pot. ‘Like some?’
    Linda wrinkled her pert nose. ‘Go on, then, twist my arm! I should be on my way, but another ten minutes won’t make much difference.’ She sat down again, watching as Caroline filled two mugs. ‘Tell me, how do you manage to look so flippin’ stylish? It’s something you’re born with, I guess. Me, I look all wrong whatever I wear!’
    â€˜I’m sure that’s not true.’ Caroline sat opposite the other woman and handed her the milk jug and sugarbowl. She felt really mean; Linda obviously wanted to settle into girl talk but she herself had other ideas.
    Last night she’d fully intended to satisfy her now burning curiosity and ask Ben what his plans were for Langley Hayes. And now, after what had happened, she would make sure that she had as little to do with him as possible during the remainder of her time here. So that precluded any conversation longer than one syllable.
    So before Linda could start talking about clothes and make-up she said, ‘I can’t help noticing that the house has a rather institutional look. Comfortable and much brighter than it ever was when I lived here—but functional. What does Mr Dexter intend to do with it?’
    â€˜Don’t you know?’ Linda widened her eyes then gave a wry smile. ‘No, of course you don’t, or you wouldn’t be asking!’ She took a sip of her coffee then added more sugar. ‘He’s set up a trust, put a whole load of his own money in, and the income from the golf club and leisure centre will help with the upkeep, pay the helpers’ wages. It’s for disadvantaged kids—holidays, weekends. It’s a brilliant idea— There’ll be indoor activities as well as outdoor, a small farm, organic-produce gardens, riding, boating, fishing— It will let inner-city kids know there’s more to life than hanging round street corners and getting into trouble.’
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    Long after Linda had left Caroline stayed in a mild state of shock. What the housekeeper had