Free The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress by Emma Darcy Page B

It was becoming more and more difficult to hang onto common sense. She couldn’t even write him off as a selfish, arrogant pig any more. He didn’t act like one.
    But there was still the huge barrier of his billionaire status, and she couldn’t help resenting how easily he could throw money around, getting absolutely everything he wanted. Somehow that made it all the more imperative that he shouldn’t get her, not as anything but an employee who fairly earned her wage.
    Ethan observed the shut-down on her face and the belligerent set of her chin as she finished with the tomatoes and moved to the tray where she’d placed the cutlery wrapped in paper serviettes.
    ‘I’ll take this down to the barbecue area, save having to bring it later,’ she slung at him, avoiding eye contact, and was off, not waiting for him to agree or disagree.
    She moved so fast, her pony-tail and her perky bottom twitched from side to side. Ethan grinned to himself, sure that it had become too hot in the kitchen for her and she was taking evasive action. She was so marvellously different from the women who virtually threw themselves at him. With Daisy there was no flirting to encourage his interest, and a swift backpedalling whenever she felt herself teetering on the brink of responding to him beyond her set limits.
    All the no-go signs from her only served to make the challenge of breaking through her barriers more compelling. He had made some headway this morning, moving onto personal ground, drawing out a curiosity about his life which revealed the interest she’d been deliberately repressing.
    Maybe her ex-boyfriend had soured her view of men generally and she was wary of letting herself be vulnerable again. Certainly his experience with Serena had reinforced his cynical view of women. But he felt the potential for something very different with Daisy Donahue and nothing was going to stop him from clinching a connection with her. He had the rest of the day to work on cracking her resistance to being with him.
    Daisy threw herself into the role of party hostess, determined to avoid being with Ethan Cartwright as much as possible. Luckily, none of the wives played tennis, so she couldn’t be drawn into playing a set of mixed doubles. The morning passed agreeably enough. Thewomen expressed interest in a tour of the mansion and with Ethan’s permission, she showed them all they wanted to see, then stayed chatting with them at poolside, only moving away to refill drinks and ensure everyone was enjoying themselves.
    All the men either played tennis or watched the game, amusing themselves with a lively commentary on the play, then cooling off in the pool before lunch. Daisy was the only one who didn’t go into the water, escaping to the kitchen on the pretext of last-minute preparations for the barbecue.
    The vision of Ethan Cartwright in a brief black swimming costume had made her so hotly conscious of her own body, no way was she about to don the bikini she had brought with her. It was far more comfortable sticking her head into the refrigerator, staring at the contents which were largely dead meat with no sex appeal whatsoever. She was still blankly looking at the tray loaded with steak and sausages when his voice assaulted her ears with a tone of extreme annoyance.
    ‘This is totally absurd! You have no reason whatsoever to act as though I’m Lynda Twiggley, demanding that you toe some tyrannical line of duty every second of the day. I will not have it!’
    It jerked her around to face a dripping-wet splendid male physique emanating a savage energy that sent wild quivers through her entire system. He’d slid open one of the glass doors that led onto the back verandah and stood just outside the dining area, glowering at her with fierce green eyes.
    ‘I told you to bring a swimming costume,’ he ranted on. ‘You know I wanted you to join in the fun. There is no need for you to be up here fussing over food. Sinceyou must be perfectly aware