His Millionaire Maid (2 page)

The only clue to her former life lay in her striking, hand-tooled cowboy boots, now soggy and squelchy and uncomfortable. But she had no way of replacing them, so she’d just have to make do.

When she was fully clothed, she couldn’t resist taking a selfie and sending it to Lindsey. Lindsey clearly thought she was nuts, but she was used to Nina’s schemes by now, and she’d keep her secret.

She slipped the phone into her pocket, squared her shoulders, and stared at the road leading into Hartley, a place she’d never heard of. A place where she could be herself. Who knew what lay ahead for her? It could be disaster, embarrassment, or total failure. But she had to find out. Going back wasn’t an option anymore.

With fingers crossed, she took the first steps toward her new identity.

…

Joe Farina sat back on his heels and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension knotting his back. Some days, owning and running the Comet Inn was tough on a guy, and this was one of those days. One of the waitstaff had twisted an ankle, his chef was threatening to cut someone’s balls off, and the new temporary employee who was supposed to have arrived at two still hadn’t turned up. It was now after five, and since he was short staffed, he was on his hands and knees in the reception lobby cleaning up a bottle of lavender oil one of the guests had spilled.

The front door jingled as someone entered the inn. Joe stood and his gaze fell on a girl who didn’t look a day over eighteen. She was small and slim, with short blond hair and blue eyes almost too big for her face, like a doll. Judging by her faded jeans, cheap T-shirt, and scruffy denim jacket, she had to be the new temp.

“You’re here. Finally.” He couldn’t temper the frustration in his voice.

The girl stopped and raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

He strode forward, his mind leaping ahead to everything that still needed doing. “I’m Joe Farina, your new boss. You’re the temp I’ve been waiting for all afternoon.”

Her eyes widened as they fixed on his hands. Joe paused. He’d forgotten about the rubber gloves he was wearing. Big, blinding, flamingo-pink gloves. Damn.

She bit her lip as if trying not to smile. “Cute. Pink suits you.”

He tore off the gloves and tossed them next to his bucket, feeling strangely flustered. “I’m allergic to lavender,” he said stiffly. “And those were the only gloves I could find.” Why did he need to explain himself to her? “You are my new maid, right?”

She tugged at her jacket. “Uh…your new maid…yeah. Right.”

Joe bit back a groan. She wasn’t slow-witted, was she? She didn’t look slow-witted. Her eyes were deep blue and curious as she glanced between him and the reception area. Her stance was wary, as if she wasn’t sure she should be here.

He waved a hand impatiently. “You were supposed to be here at two. I can’t have employees who turn up late, especially on their first day.”

She jutted her chin as if ready to argue with him. “I’m not—” She stopped abruptly, looking conflicted.

A beat of silence passed as they sized each other up. At first glance, he’d thought she was a teenager, but now that she was closer, he revised his estimate to early twenties, no more than twenty-five. Her hair was several shades of blonde, from ice to honey to caramel, and it was messy and slightly damp, as if she’d been swimming recently. Her mouth was wide and sensual, balancing out a stubborn chin. He liked what he saw, he realized, especially that bold curve to her jaw.

His gaze caught on a weird bit of green stuff tangled in her hair. Was that a fancy barrette? No, it looked more like some kind of vegetation.

“What?” She shifted uncomfortably. “Is there dirt on my face?”

“No, something in your hair.” He reached out impulsively and snagged the damp piece out of her hair. “What is this? It looks like…duckweed?”

Her cheeks turned bright pink—almost as pink as his embarrassing gloves—as she snatched the sliver from his fingers. “No, it must have fallen off a tree, but thanks.”

It was definitely duckweed, but clearly she wasn’t going to tell him how it got in her hair, and he didn’t have time for this.

“Listen. I’m really busy. If you want the job, then come with me.” He moved toward the hallway leading off the reception lobby, throwing a glance over his shoulder to see if she followed. When she did, his small twinge of relief surprised him. He was glad to get another pair of hands, but was he also glad it was her?

He led the way into the linen room and grabbed a stack of clean sheets and towels. He dumped them into her arms.

“Got that?”

Her eyes widened above the stack of linen, but she didn’t complain, just nodded like she knew he was testing her. Okay, then. She’d passed.

He walked into an adjoining utility room filled with cleaning equipment.

“There are eight guest rooms that get dusted and cleaned every day, even when they’re unoccupied. I like to keep them ready to use at all times.”

He picked up a bucket filled with cleaning products and a mop. The temp shifted the pile of linen in her arms and waggled one hand at him. “I got that, too.”

She had spunk, he’d give her that. Her sharp blue eyes dared him, so he handed the bucket and mop to her. She winced as she struggled to balance her load.

“Maybe I should—” Joe began.

“No, no. I can manage. It’s the least I can do, seeing as I’m late.”

This could be interesting. At the back of his mind a warning buzzer sounded. He needed someone efficient, not interesting.

But he couldn’t resist gesturing at the hulking industrial-strength vacuum cleaner in the corner. “Think you can manage that, too?”

She gulped. “Uh, I might have to come back for it.”

“Well, since it’s your first day, I’ll carry it for you.”

He led the way upstairs and showed her into one of the vacant suites. The Lily room was light and bright, with blue-and-white wallpaper, a queen-size bed, a mirrored armoire, and a private balcony with stunning views of the Pacific coastline.

The temp set down her load with a sigh of relief before looking about her with interest. She ran her fingers over a maple dresser and nodded her approval before opening the door to the balcony and surveying the view.

“Pretty,” she said.

Hartley wasn’t a big town. From the balcony, they looked straight down the main street lined with stores and businesses. The street ended at the beach, and beyond that the ocean, now splashed with orange from a spectacular sunset.

“Nice little town you’ve got here,” she said, sounding surprised.

She was acting more like a guest than a casual cleaner.

“Glad you approve,” Joe retorted, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

She blushed and hurried on, “I mean, it’s so different from San Francisco.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

She hesitated before nodding.

“Well, don’t go thinking things are slow around here just because it’s quiet,” he continued. “I don’t allow laziness.”

She frowned at him. “What makes you think I’m lazy?”

The blue glitter in her eyes sent a strange frisson down his spine. Christ, what was that sensation? Excitement?

“You’re admiring the view instead of thinking about your duties.”

“I apologize. Please, let’s get back to my
duties
.” The corners of her lips curled up as if she were thinking of other duties she could perform for him.

Joe coughed. Her brief smile disappeared, and she pulled back her shoulders, but that only drew his attention to her breasts. She was small there, but that didn’t stop his imagination from freewheeling, wondering what she looked like naked. Slender like a dancer, with firm, perky breasts— Damn it, what was wrong with him? Annoyed with himself, he gestured at the adjoining bathroom.

“Your first job is to change the linen and clean the bathroom here and next door. But before you do that, I’ll take you through to the bar and restaurant and introduce you to the rest of the staff. Besides taking care of these rooms, you’re expected to bus tables in the bar and help out in the kitchen. Tonight you’re also on dish duty, since one of my kitchen hands is off.”

She blinked and faltered back. “Wow…uh, okay…”

Joe narrowed his eyes on her fingers as she toyed nervously with a pricey silver necklace strung around her delicate throat. Despite the blue-collar clothes, she seemed too fragile for hard physical labor, which the job required.

“Look.” He rested his hands on his hips, squaring his feet before her. “If you’re not up to it, just say so. I won’t hold it against you.” Although he’d have a few words to say to the employment agency. They’d been having trouble supplying him with reliable staff lately, but this time they’d really screwed up.

His words seemed to have an electrifying effect on her. She drew herself up to her full height, which wasn’t much.

“Who says I’m not up to it?” Her eyes almost spat with indignation. She was quite the fireball when she was riled. “I can handle a few bathrooms and clearing tables and washing dishes. I’m not some pampered rich kid with servants waiting on her hand and foot!”

He blinked at her outburst and bided his time until she’d calmed down.

“So,” he said, folding his arms. “Who are you, then? You never told me your name.”

…

Nina licked her lips that had suddenly dried at Joe’s question. She’d had the answers all figured out in her head, but having Joe stare at her made her thoughts scatter like that damned duck on the road that had started this weird chain of events.

This Joe Farina guy was one of the tallest, biggest men she’d ever come across. He towered over her, but in a good way—good to look at, at any rate. His broad shoulders and lean hips were accentuated by a tight black T-shirt and close-fitting jeans. His hair was thick and dark and tousled, his eyes were the deepest mocha brown, and his movie-star looks were enough to make a girl swoon—even when he wore pink rubber gloves. Her knees weakened, a bead of perspiration breaking out between her breasts.

Crap, this was no time to get all steamed up over a man, especially a man she was about to lie to.

She tilted her chin up and returned his blunt stare. “You didn’t give me a chance to introduce myself before you hustled me up here.” She cleared her throat, praying she wouldn’t stutter over her next words. “I’m Nina. Nina Summers.”

She’d been christened Annette Martha, after her two grandmothers, but she’d always called herself Nina, and Summers was her late mother’s maiden name. Half an hour ago, while walking into Hartley and concocting her cover story, she’d resolved not to stray too far from the truth. She was Nina Summers from San Francisco, a down-on-her-luck girl hoping to make a fresh start in a seaside community. She’d entered the Comet Inn hoping for information on possible employment in the area; she hadn’t expected to walk straight into a job, albeit on false pretenses.

Joe stuck his hand out. “Pleased to meet you, Nina. Sorry I hurried you in without a formal introduction. I’m Joe Farina,” he repeated, “owner of the Comet Inn.”

The unexpected thaw in his manner threw her, and when she clasped his hand, her wits were further confused by the sudden seductive warmth of his callused palm. Holy hell, this man had some kind of magic touch. For a few moments all she could think about was his hands drifting over her, heating her skin, pleasuring her senses.

She hurriedly pulled her hand away. “Farina? That’s Italian, right?” she asked in an effort to mask her discomfort.

“Yeah. I’m told I get a little hot tempered at times, so be warned.”

His mouth lifted in a quirky little smile that sent a tingle down to her toes. She groaned silently. Why did he have such a killer smile? Why him, the first person she had to convince of her new identity? If she couldn’t get past Joe’s guard, then she might as well give up right now.

“I don’t mind a hot temper.” She flicked her fingers through her hair. “I can get hot tempered myself sometimes.”

His eyebrows lifted, and the air between them quivered with an unmistakable spark, a sharp tug of mutual attraction. Joe must have felt it, too, because he stepped back, looking momentarily confused.

“Uh—” He cleared his throat. “Let’s go downstairs and do the paperwork so you can start on those guest rooms.”

Darn, she shouldn’t have done that hair-flicking thing. What was wrong with her? Less than an hour into her new identity and already she couldn’t help flirting with her sexy new boss. She really had to get a hold of herself if she wanted this to work. Biting her cheek, she followed Joe downstairs and along a passageway that led to the back of the building, which appeared to be a private section.

He led her to his office and took down her particulars.

“Got any ID on you?” he asked.

Back in college she’d had a fake ID in the name of Nina Summers, but she’d left that in San Francisco. She’d have to ask Lindsey to mail it to her.

She shook her head. “No, but I’ll get it to you as soon as I can.”

He nodded, wrote something, and then glanced back at her. “Where are you staying in town?”

“Oh.”
Good question.
“I don’t know. I just got in this afternoon.”

“Yeah?” His eyes narrowed on her. “The agency must’ve interviewed you by phone if you’ve only just arrived in Hartley?”

“Uh-huh. I, er, caught the bus in.” She pushed her hands into the pockets of her denim jacket.

“No luggage?”

She’d prepared for that question. “I feel a bit stupid,” she said, lifting her shoulders in a self-deprecating manner. “I fell asleep on the bus, and when I woke up all my stuff had disappeared. I made the bus driver stop and search the bus, but the thief must have already gotten off, because we couldn’t find anything, and by that time some of the passengers were upset with me for making them late.”

Joe let out a soft whistle. “That’s a lousy way to arrive in town.” He looked her over again. “So that’s all you have with you? Not even a purse?”

“Not even a purse. That’s why I can’t show you any ID. All I have is my phone and a few dollars in my back pocket. I don’t suppose there’s a youth hostel around here?”

“Not in Hartley.” He riffled his hair and sighed. “Look, there’s a room next door you can have. It’s nothing fancy, but I won’t charge you for it until you’re back on your feet.”