Free The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress by Emma Darcy

which was already far too high for Daisy’s peace of mind.
    He gave her appearance a quick cursory glance—a loose blue-and-white striped T-shirt over knee-length white shorts—a sensible, sexless outfit—and his mouth quirked with ironic amusement as though he knew she had deliberately dressed down. For one stomachchurning moment challenge simmered in his green eyes, but he simply greeted her normally, then stood back and waved her inside.
    ‘The men are rigging up the sails which will shade the barbecue dining area,’ he informed her as they headed down the hallway. ‘The tennis court is getting a last vacuum before the net goes up. Everything should be ready by the time the wives arrive after dropping their children at school. We have about an hour and a half to prepare all the food before taking on the host and hostess roles. Are you okay with that?’
    ‘Yes,’ she answered, only too grateful that she could soon busy herself with other people.
    It was good to be busy in the kitchen, as well, helping Ethan prepare the salads, cutting up onions to accompany the steak and sausages, spreading garlic butter on the loaves of French bread.
    ‘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.
    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 wasteher 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