His Millionaire Maid (10 page)

Nina tossed the ceramic shards into the garbage bin, making as much clatter as she could. She’d been too quick to shrug off her docked pay. She should’ve acted more concerned.

“I’m here to make a fresh start,” she said as calmly as possible.

“Yeah?” Sarah didn’t seem convinced.

Nina was saved from having to say more by Mrs. Stewart appearing in the kitchen. She and her friend had dined at the restaurant earlier, and when Nina served them, Mrs. Stewart had made some coy remarks about Joe. Now, as the smiling woman advanced on them, Nina prayed she wouldn’t say anything embarrassing in front of Sarah.

“That chicken was delicious!” Mrs. Stewart beamed at Sarah. “You must keep that on the menu permanently.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Stewart.” The head chef grinned. If there was one thing that softened her up, it was compliments on her cooking. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No, thank you. I really came back here to talk to Nina.”

Sarah’s frown returned. “Sure,” she replied, but instead of leaving, she stood right there, looking suspicious.

“How can I help you?” Nina asked Mrs. Stewart, hoping she wouldn’t mention Joe again.

“It’s about the Food and Wine Festival. You know about it, right?”

Nina nodded. She’d seen all the posters around town and knew Joe was on the organizing committee.

“The thrift store will have a stall at the festival,” Mrs. Stewart continued. “We’re accepting all kinds of donations to sell. My niece usually helps me, but she’s broken her leg, poor thing, so I was hoping you’d volunteer.”

The festival was in two weeks, and by the end of that weekend, Nina’s three-week vacation from Beaumont, Inc. would be over and she’d have to return to San Francisco. The dreaded reminder, coupled with Mrs. Stewart’s request, threw Nina into confusion. “Oh, um, yeah, well—”

“Of course she’d love to help you,” Sarah broke in with a smirk at Nina. “She wants to make a fresh start in Hartley, and what better way is there than getting involved in our local charity?”

Nina coughed. “Well, sure.” She hesitated a second before nodding firmly. She’d still be here for the festival, anyway. “Yes, I’d love to help you, Mrs. Stewart.”

“Oh, good! I’m so pleased. I’ll talk to you later when you’re not so busy. Good night, dears.” She waved a general good-bye before trotting out of the kitchen, leaving Nina and Sarah alone.

“I’m happy to help Mrs. Stewart.” Nina stuck her chin out. “She’s nice, and she gives people the benefit of the doubt.”

Sarah looked down at her. “Just remember to keep your volunteering to your off hours. You’re paid to work here.”

Nina bit back a quick retort. No point aggravating the head chef.

By the time Nina had finished her kitchen duties, the restaurant was closed, and only a few quiet drinkers were left. Nina looked about the bar expectantly, hoping that Joe had returned from soccer practice, but he was nowhere to be seen, and disappointment pinched her.

“Hey, Nina,” Vince called from behind the counter where he was carefully filling a glass from a beer bottle.

She hitched her butt onto a stool at the counter. Even though her shift had ended, she didn’t want to go to her bare, lonely room. Not when a part of her was still hoping for Joe to return, even though he’d never made any promises.

“What’s that?” she asked, glad for the distraction from Joe. She nodded at the unlabeled bottle from which a rich, golden-brown beer flowed steadily into the glass.

“It’s an IPA from a local microbrewery,” Vince said.

“IPA?”

“India pale ale.” He grinned. “Clearly you’re not into beer.”

“Sorry, no.”

He slid the glass to her. “Try it. You might like it.”

Shrugging, she took a cautious sip and rolled the liquid around her mouth before swallowing. “Hey, that’s not your normal beer. It’s kind of chewy and bitey.”

“Hoppy, you mean.”

“If you say so. It’s really good. Where did you get it from?”

“The shed in my backyard.” Vince retrieved the glass and took a satisfying swallow. “It’s a hobby of mine, brewing beer.”

Nina sat up. “You have a brewery? Do you sell your beer here?”

He shook his head, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “Nah. Joe doesn’t know about it.”

“But you’re friends. How does he not know?”

“Well, he knows I brew beer, but he doesn’t know I’ve upgraded my equipment to commercial grade.” A diffident expression came over Vince’s face. “I’ve been meaning to ask him if I can stock some of it here, but, well, he has enough on his plate at the moment, what with his bank problems and those Beaumont shitheads who want his property and…”

Nina’s heart stopped for several seconds as Vince continued to talk.
What did he just say? Those Beaumont shitheads? He can’t mean—

“Hey, Joe.” Vince’s words broke through her whirling thoughts, and her heart stuttered to life, suddenly pounding like a runaway freight train.

“Hey, Vince. Hi, Nina.”

Joe stood right behind her. Every nerve ending in her body shrieked out his presence as she turned to face him.

“Hi.” She sounded like a frightened mouse.

She tried to take a breath, but it was difficult with Joe so close to her. He was freshly showered after his soccer game, his body giving off waves of clean masculinity that pulled her in. His warm, expressive gaze traveled over her like he’d missed her, but then, as if becoming aware that Vince was still there, he glanced away, and she was able to breathe.

Joe talked to Vince, but she barely listened as Vince’s words whirred in her mind. Beaumont shitheads.
Beaumont.
What exactly did he mean by that? Was there some connection between Joe and her dad?
Unlikely
, she told herself. Beaumont was a common enough surname. And why would a billionaire like her dad be interested in a small place like the Comet Inn? It didn’t make sense. Vince must have meant someone else.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Joe said.

She came to with a start. The bar was emptying, and Vince had begun closing up. She was alone with Joe. He rested one elbow on the counter, and although his stance was casual, the look in his eye was anything but.

She swallowed, deciding to set aside her concerns about what Vince had said. It was much nicer to concentrate on Joe. “Just one penny? Is that all my thoughts are worth?”

He glanced quickly about, then angled his body so that no one but she could see his face. “That depends. If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, then I’d be willing to pay you more.”

She sucked her lower lip, wondering what he was thinking. From last night she knew Joe had some pretty dirty thoughts.

He uttered a groan so soft only she could hear it. “Don’t do that with your lip. Unless you want me sporting wood in public.”

She sputtered with laughter. Only Joe could get her so excited with so little. Before she could respond, Vince came back behind the counter and shot a weird look at her. Afraid he would recognize the lust in her face, she pushed to her feet.

“I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed. Good night, all.” She made a general wave to encompass both Joe and Vince before beating a hasty retreat.

If Joe wanted a repeat of last night, then he’d have to come and get her, she decided as she made her way to her room. Even if she couldn’t stop thinking about him, she didn’t want to appear too eager. Taking a shower didn’t stop her thinking of him, either. In fact, it made it worse. By the time she returned to her room, she was wondering how she’d ever get to sleep.

She let out a shriek as she spotted Joe lying fully clothed on her bed. “Oh, sweet Jesus, you scared me! Why didn’t you warn me?”

He heaved himself up to a sitting position. “Do you always walk around in nothing but a towel after your shower? I’ll have to buy you a bathrobe.”

Excitement shivered through her. She walked up to him until they were almost touching. “Why?” She licked her lips. “Are you planning to surprise me in my room on a regular basis?”

He reached up and placed his hands on her hips, his fingers anchoring her towel. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether you give me what I want.” His grip on her towel firmed. She swayed and allowed the towel to slip away until it crumpled to the floor. Joe’s hands remained on her hips, his expression almost reverential as he took in her nakedness. “Oh, sweet pea,” he breathed. “You’re perfect.”

She was far from perfect, but Joe’s reaction filled her with a strange, heady sensation. What if she was perfect
for him
? Heat swept over her, plumping her breasts, making her nipples harden. Joe cupped a hand to her breast, fingers teasing her nipple even harder.

“Yes, perfect.” He stared up at her with hunger stamped across his face.

Her knees buckled as she slid onto his lap, straddling his denim-clad thighs. She speared her fingers through his hair, and then their mouths met and fused with desire. They kissed frantically, his fingers imprinted into her back, she pressing herself into him, desperate for contact.

“Wait,” she panted when she was forced to come up for air. “What about Vince?”

“Damn.” He gave her ass a soft pinch. “I’m sure as hell not sharing you with Vince.”

Ooh, I like that
, she thought in surprise. She liked Joe pinching her ass. She let out a mock growl. “I meant is there any chance he might’ve seen you come into my room?”

“No. He’s gone home, and I locked up the inn.” His thumb absently stroked her butt cheek where he’d pinched her. “There’re only two guests upstairs. So it’s just you and me, sweet pea.”

Every time he called her sweet pea it sent a thrill straight to her heart. She brushed her lips teasingly against his. “That’s good. Why didn’t you take off your clothes while you were waiting for me?”

“I didn’t want to be presumptuous.” His eyes glinted as his hand wandered around her ass. He began stroking between her thighs.

Her breathing stalled as his fingers caressed her, sweeping from front to back, exploring every inch of her. She didn’t have time to be embarrassed at how thoroughly he was touching her; she was too caught up in the magic of his fingers. Blood thudded in her veins, desire coiled in her center, tension winding her up tighter and higher.

“You’re so wet,” Joe murmured, his eyes on fire.

Suddenly she was mad for him, mad to feel him inside her. She grabbed at his belt buckle. “Get this off.” She growled in frustration. “Quick. Now.”

“But you’re so close.” His fingers circled her entrance, and she shuddered, almost climaxing but holding herself back.

“I want you in me.” She practically snarled, tugging his belt free.

Joe’s eyes widened. “Yes, ma’am.”

He grabbed a condom from his pocket. Then, with her help, he unzipped his jeans and shoved them and his boxers down to his knees. He had barely sheathed himself before Nina leaped back onto his lap, positioning herself over his rigid erection. He didn’t wait. Grabbing her by the hips, he drove her down onto him without finesse, with just plain, raw sexual need. And that excited her more than she’d anticipated. Joe was in her, around her. He filled her up and surrounded her until there was nothing in her world but him.

He rolled her onto her back and shifted the angle of his body so he could thrust even harder into her. She felt herself spiraling up, caught in the sensations of his body pumping into hers. And then his mouth found hers again, and he was kissing her like he could never sate his appetite. His fingers found her aching nipple, and his other hand slid between their heaving bodies and pressed against her clit.

All erogenous zones on fire, she gripped her knees against him and came in a roaring climax that shook her to her hair roots, so she was only barely aware when, short seconds later, Joe erupted inside her. He let out a long, deep groan before collapsing onto her. He lay there panting for a moment then rolled off her, wrapping his arms around her so that she lay half on top of him.

“Yeah, perfect,” he said as he planted a clumsy kiss on her hair.

Nina didn’t say anything as she curled closer to him. Yes, sex with Joe was perfect. It was just everything else that was not so perfect.

Chapter Seven

As Nina approached Joe’s office, she couldn’t stop her imagination from running wild. Had Joe summoned her there just so he could kiss her, even though it was Friday at noon and the inn was bustling with preparations for the busy weekend? But her anticipation died as soon as she stepped inside and saw Joe sitting behind the desk squinting at his laptop.

His smile of greeting was warm, but he waved her to the chair on the opposite side of the desk. Clearly he hadn’t called her in for a make-out session. Too bad.

“Your pay.” He slid a check with an attached paystub across the desk toward her.

“Oh.” It felt wrong to accept money from Joe. He worked so hard for it, while she had millions of dollars doing nothing in her bank account. But, she reminded herself, she had come here to prove to herself that she could survive without her trust fund or her name. She was entitled to her wages.

She inspected the figures on the paycheck and frowned. “You forgot to deduct the breakages.”

He shrugged. “Everyone breaks a few things when they first start.”

“But you don’t sleep with every new employee.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is I don’t want any special treatment. For whatever reason.”

They stared at each other for a beat before Joe sighed. “Fine.” He took the paycheck from her.

“And don’t forget the forty dollars you loaned me.”

He wrote out a new check and handed it to her. “Happy now?”

“Yup.” She smiled at the meager figure on the check.

Joe grinned back at her, and as always, his smile infected her with happiness. But the moment was broken as a sharp gust of wind blew in from the open window. Joe got up and walked to the window, his expression suddenly somber.

Outside, storm clouds were rolling in, black with thunderous intent, and in just a few seconds the room had noticeably darkened.

“Damn, I was hoping we’d miss this storm.” Joe scanned the leaden sky. “But it looks like we’re going to get hammered.”

He’d barely spoken before a fork of lightning lit up the sky, and they both flinched. Thunder was quick to follow, rumbling ominously; the storm was closing in fast on Hartley.

“Shit. I have to go.” Joe turned to Nina, his brow creased with concern. “This storm might tear my place apart.”

“Your place? But your house seems solid enough.”

“Not my house, my…” He blinked at her as if he’d only just realized what he was saying. “My other investment property. It’s run-down, and I don’t know how it’ll hold up against this storm.” He grabbed the jacket slung over his desk chair, and strode toward the door.

His concerned expression made her worried on his behalf. “Wait for me.” Nina hurried after him. “I can help you.”

Joe hesitated in midstride. “You?”

“Yes, me. I’ve finished my morning chores. Just give me a second to get a sweater or something and I’ll go with you.”

He scratched his chin, but then another flash of lightning appeared to make up his mind. He nodded. “Make it quick.”

Nina dashed next door to her room, where she tucked away her paycheck and grabbed the gray hoodie she’d bought from the thrift store. Joe was waiting for her in the reception lobby. He tossed a yellow rain slicker at her and jerked his head in the direction of the door.

“Let’s go.”

The air was thick and heavy as they drove out of Hartley in Joe’s truck. Dark clouds curdled overhead, but the rain held off for the moment. The road seemed familiar. They were heading toward the cliffs where Joe had brought her earlier that week—had it only been on Monday? But then he took a different turn down a narrow, rutted lane.

Five minutes later they pulled up outside a rambling old house surrounded by several acres of weed-infested land. Despite its neglected air, the house was still grand and gracious. Its stone walls were weathered to the color of honey, and in the dilapidated grounds were traces of a once manicured lawn. The best feature of the property was its location, situated on a rise overlooking the ocean, with stands of red oaks surrounding it. Oaks that were buffeted by the rising winds.

As they hurried to the house, gusts of wind heralded the arrival of the storm, and a few seconds later the clouds dumped rain in giant bucketfuls. The interior of the house was cavernous and gloomy. Nina had a brief impression of soaring ceilings, arched windows, and carved timber. And over that, peeling paint, moldy walls, and rotting decay.

Joe had brought some folded-up tarpaulins with him. He started for the once magnificent staircase. “Follow me.”

The rat-a-tat of the rain grew louder as they dashed upward, and the stairs became narrower as they ascended to the third floor, where the attics crouched just beneath the roof. A door banged in the rising wind. Joe stepped into the closest attic and swore under his breath.

“Look at that.”

The window to the attic had blown out, leaving a gaping hole through which rain poured inside. The roof had sprung several leaks, some of them drips, others almost rivers. The wind howled and flurried about the house, rattling every nail, shaking every timber.

Joe made a quick survey of the other two attics, Nina close behind him. Both of them had also sprung copious leaks.

“Let’s fix that blown-out window first,” Joe said, throwing down his pile of tarpaulins.

Nina helped as best she could, following his instructions and trying to ignore the rain slapping at her. She’d never experienced anything like this before, and soon she was soaked and freezing, despite the rain slicker. But she didn’t allow herself to complain. How could she when Joe was working even harder than she was?

Together they fastened a tarpaulin over the broken window, which required Joe to hang out dangerously from the ledge. They rigged up other tarpaulins beneath the worst of the leaks so that the water was diverted outside the house. Smaller leaks were dealt with using the pails and cans that had obviously been put to the same use before.

The violent storm passed as quickly as it came, leaving behind a sodden, dripping house. They trudged downstairs to the first floor, where a few more windows were broken and water pooled in several places.

“What made you buy this place?” Nina asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.

Joe swiped a hand across his damp brow as he glanced around the reception room they stood in. “I’ve always admired this house. As soon as it came up for sale, I had to buy it. It’s a wreck now, but it’s got great potential. I want to turn it into a high-end boutique B&B. Hartley’s becoming more popular, and an upmarket B&B will fill a gap.”

“It’s definitely got loads of character.”

Something about the house reminded her of the faded mansion she’d grown up in. Her mom had adored grand old houses, and her dad had indulged her. Nina had fond memories of sliding down banisters and running through half-finished rooms. Then her mom had died, and when her dad had remarried, her stepmom had turned her childhood home into a mini Palace of Versailles.

Nina flicked a piece of peeling wallpaper. “But you’ll need a lot of money to turn this into a B&B.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

The odd note in his voice made her frown as a memory triggered. What had Vince said about Joe’s bank problems?

“Are you having trouble getting a loan?” she asked before she could stop herself.

His eyes sharpened on her. “Who told you that?”

“Uh, no one. Just a guess.”

Uneasiness rolled in her stomach. Money. Always rearing its ugly head. Joe wasn’t like her jerk of an ex, though, was he? He wouldn’t ask her for money. But what if he found out how wealthy she was? Would that make a difference?

Joe riffled his fingers through his hair as he gazed out a missing window at the storm-churned sea. “Well, it’s true,” he said reluctantly. “But that’s not the half of it.”

“There’s more?”

“Yup. Someone’s trying to make me sell this place.”

The uneasiness in her stomach congealed into cold dread. “Who?” she forced herself to ask, sensing she wouldn’t like the answer.

“A billionaire bastard named Carson Beaumont. Ever heard of him?”

Thank God he had his back to her or he surely would have noticed her shock. She felt the blood draining from her cheeks, leaving her shaky and weak.

“Uh, n-no, don’t think so.” What else could she say? She hated lying about such an important fact, especially after she’d promised him no more lies, but what choice did she have when he’d just labeled her father a bastard?

“You’re lucky, then.” Joe was still staring out the window. “Beaumont wants this property because of the sea views and because it’s the only access to a huge plot of land farther back where he wants to build another of his obscene megaresorts. He’s already made me several offers. Oh, not him personally, of course. He sends up his goons to do his dirty work.”

“Dirty work?” She felt as hollow as she sounded.

“Yeah. I think they’ve been whispering to the banks, discouraging them from giving me a loan.” His hands curled into fists, and his shoulders grew rigid. “And they know my grandmother is in a nursing home. They know to the dollar how much it costs me each month, so they’re trying to use that as leverage on me.” Veins bulged in his hands. “Fuckers.”

Nina sucked in tiny sips of air as her ribs threatened to crush her lungs. “That’s vile,” she choked out.

God, this was so much worse than she could have imagined. How dare her father treat Joe—or anyone—like this? It was contemptible, immoral. Were Beaumont, Inc.’s managers acting on their own or only carrying out orders? It didn’t really matter. Her father had always been a ruthless businessman. He pressed his subordinates to get results, no matter what. He was responsible.

What could she do about it, though? Should she call her dad and demand he back off from Joe? But he wouldn’t, because he’d never taken her seriously and she wasn’t the apple of his eye like Brooke was. He wouldn’t because business always came first. He wouldn’t because
she
never came first with him. What she wanted and what she cared about didn’t matter to him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Joe’s soft query came from closer than she’d expected, and she saw that he was right in front of her, eyes dark with concern.

She folded her arms around herself, feeling sick and cold. “I wish I could help you.”

“You have helped me, just now.” His mouth lifted in a small smile. “Thank you, Nina.”

His thanks only made her feel worse. She didn’t deserve his thanks. She was the enemy because of her name.

“I didn’t expect such a bad storm. I’ve been trying to find the time to weatherize this place before winter comes,” Joe continued. “Guess I should get a move on it now.”

“Let me help you,” she said, consumed by guilt. “When I’m free, of course. I won’t neglect my duties at the inn.”

He seemed surprised but pleased. “That’d be great, thanks. I’ll see if I can get some of my buddies to help over the weekend, too.”

He shifted toward her, his hands gripping her elbows. He wanted to uncross her arms, she intuited, and by the look in his eyes, he wanted to kiss her. But this time, her desire was no match for a guilty conscience, and she kept her arms firmly locked.

A frown touched Joe’s brow, and some of the warmth ebbed from his eyes. Instead of embracing her, he brushed her cheek briefly. “You must be freezing. Let’s get back to the inn.”

She followed him out, her heart as heavy as the clouds hanging overhead.

…

Work was a welcome distraction from a troubled conscience. The inn was full that weekend, and Sarah was short in the kitchen again. Nina didn’t mind being the target of Sarah’s quick temper. She preferred being busy to dwelling on Joe’s problems with Beaumont, Inc. and how she was concealing her identity from him. When her shift on Friday night ended, Joe told her to get a good night’s rest and he’d see her in the morning. She was almost relieved not to spend the night with him, but in the small hours of the morning she woke up cold and lonely and missing the heat of his body.

Saturday was hectic, too. After finishing her morning chores, she discovered that Vince was preparing to go and help Joe weatherize his B&B mansion, and immediately she insisted on going with him. At the house were three men, all friends of Joe’s. Joe was apparently up on the roof. The men eyed her curiously when Vince introduced her but soon turned their attention back to work.

Nina was doing her best to caulk a leaky window when Joe walked up to her.

“Hey, you’re here,” he said, surprise and pleasure on his face.

As always, her heart flipped at his appearance. “I said I would be.”

“You didn’t have to, you know.”

But she did, she really did—to make up for her dad causing him trouble, however small the gesture. The more she got to know Joe, the more she admired him. He didn’t deserve to be bullied into selling his dream. She wanted to help him succeed in any way she could.

“I know I don’t have to; I want to. But I’m not exactly the world’s best handyman.” She gave a wry nod at the smeary line of filler she’d laid down.

“Here, let me teach you.” Before she could blink, Joe had wrapped his hand around hers holding the caulking gun. There was no one else in the room. He leaned into her, his breath feathering her cheek. “See, you just need a steady hand…”

Their bodies melded together. His groin nestled against her ass. His hand wasn’t so steady, and neither was her heart. “Joe…someone might come in.”

Reluctantly, he let her go. “Maybe we can meet tonight?” His voice was thick with need.

She nodded, her blood fevered. But before she could say anything, Joe’s friend Paul walked into the room, Joe stepped away from her, and the moment was over.

With a sigh, Nina returned to her task. She hadn’t been at it five minutes before her cell phone rang.

“Hey, girlfriend,” Lindsey chirped in her ear. “Thought I’d better check on you, since I haven’t heard from you in more than a week.”

“Oh, hi, Lindsey.” Nina paused to check the room was empty. She didn’t need anyone overhearing her conversation. “Sorry I haven’t called earlier. Things have been…hectic.” That was one way of putting it.