Maid for the Millionaire (4 page)

He wouldn't be mean. He'd say the words women loved to hear. That he wanted to talk. To clean their slate. For closure. So they could both move on completely. Actually, what he was doing was giving her a chance to vent. She'd probably be thrilled for it.

He grinned. He was a genius. Mostly because Liz was the kind of woman she was. She didn't rant and rail. Or even get angry. She'd probably quietly tell him that she'd left him because he had been a nightmare to live with, and he would humbly agree, not argue, showing her he really did want closure. All the while he'd be processing her house, looking for clues of what mattered to her, what she needed. So he could get it for her and wipe this off his conscience.

He wove in and out of traffic two car lengths behind her, not surprised when she drove to one of Miami's lower-middle-class neighborhoods. She identified with blue-collar people. Which was one of the reasons their
marriage had been so stressful. She'd been afraid to come out of her shell. Afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing with his wealthy friends. Afraid, even, to plan their own parties.

She pulled her car onto the driveway of a modest home and jumped out. As she ducked into the one-car garage and disappeared, he drove in behind her.

He took a second to catch his breath and organize his thoughts. First he would apologize for being presumptuous when he made the waffles for her. Then he'd give her the spiel about wanting a clean slate—which, now that he thought about it, was true. He was here to help them move on. Then he'd do what he did best. He'd observe her surroundings, really listen to what she said and figure out what he could do for her.

Taking a few measured breaths, he got out of his car and started up the cracked cement sidewalk. He was amazingly calm by the time a little girl of about three answered the door after he rang the bell.

“Mom!” she screamed, turning and running back into the dark foyer. “It's a stranger!”

Cain blinked. His mouth fell open. Then his entire body froze in fear. Liz had a child? A child old enough to be…well,
his
?

Oh, dear God. That would explain why she'd left without a word. Why she'd avoided him—

Liz and a red-haired woman Cain didn't recognize raced into the hall leading to the foyer. The red-haired woman pushed the little girl behind her in a move that very obviously said this was her child, not Liz's.

Chastising his overactive imagination, Cain forced his breathing back to normal but it wasn't so easy to get his heart rate off red alert.

And Liz still barreled up the hall, looking ready for a fight. She was only a few feet in front of him before she recognized him.

“Oh. It's you.” Sighing heavily, she turned to the redhead. “This is my ex-husband, Cain.”

Still coming down from the shock of thinking he was a dad, he quickly said, “I'm here to apologize about the waffles last week.”

“Apology accepted. Now leave.”

Wow. She was a lot quicker on her feet than he'd remembered. “No. I can't. I mean, you didn't have to send another employee to clean my house today.” Embarrassment twisted his tongue. He wasn't saying any of this well. Where was the control that helped him schmooze bankers, sweet-talk union reps and haggle with suppliers?

Gone. That's where. Because Liz wasn't a banker, union rep or supplier. She was a normal person. His ex-wife. Now he understood Ava's comments the day he'd discovered Liz was his temporary maid. He wasn't good at ordinary conversation with ordinary people. Business was his element. That was why he didn't have a personal life.

Still, he needed to talk to her.

He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “Could you give me ten minutes?”

“For what?”

He smiled as charmingly as he could, deciding to pretend this was a business conversation so he'd get some of his control back. “Ten minutes, Liz. That's all I want.”

Liz sighed and glanced at the woman beside her.

She shrugged. “You could go outside to the patio.”

Cain blanched. “This isn't your house?”

“No.”

He squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment, then addressed the redhead. “I'm sorry. Ms.—”

“It's Amanda.” She shrugged. “And don't worry about it. It's not really my house, either.”

“Then whose house is it?”

Liz motioned for him to follow her down the hall and into the kitchen. “I'll explain on the patio.”

The little girl with the big blue eyes also followed them to the sliding glass door. Liz stopped short of exiting, stooping to the toddler's level. “Joy, you stay with your mom, okay?”

Grinning shyly, Joy nodded.

Liz smiled and hugged her fiercely, before she rose. Something odd bubbled up inside Cain, something he'd never once considered while they were married. Liz would make a wonderful mom. He'd known she'd wanted children, but after his brother's death, they'd never again discussed it. Was that why she'd left him without a word? And if it was—if what meant the most to her was having a child—how could he possibly make
that
up to her?

Without looking at him she said, “This way.”

She led him to a small stone patio with an inexpensive umbrella-covered table. There was no pool, no outdoor kitchen. Just a tiny gas grill.

She sat at the table and he did the same. “Whose house is this?”

“It's owned by a charity.” Lowering her voice to a whisper, she leaned in closer so he could hear her. “Look, Cain, I really can't tell you much, except this house belongs to a charity for women who need a sec
ond chance. They stay at houses like this until they can get on their feet.”

Cain didn't have to work hard to read between the lines of what she'd said. He frowned. “She's been abused?”

Liz shushed him with a wave of her hand and whispered, “Yes.” Lowering her voice even more she added, “Look, we don't like talking about this when we're with the clients. We're trying to establish them as any other member of their community. Not someone being supported by a charity. We want them to think of us as friends, not benefactors.”

Following her direction to keep the conversation more private, Cain leaned closer to Liz. The light scent of her shampoo drifted over to him. The smoothness of her skin called him to touch. Memories tripped over themselves in his brain until he remembered this was how she'd been the day he'd met her on the plane. Sweet. Kind. Shy. Reluctant to talk. He'd had to draw her out even to get her to tell him the simplest things about herself.

That day he hadn't been bad at normal conversation. He'd wanted to sleep with her enough that he'd pushed beyond his inability to chitchat.

He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. That was a bad connection to make with her sitting so close, smelling like heaven, while his own blood vibrated through his veins with recognition that this woman had once been his.

He cleared his throat. “So, this is a charity?”

“Yes.” She winced.

He glanced around, confused. “What are
you
doing here?”

“Happy Maids donates housecleaning services when one of the Friend Indeed houses becomes vacant. I also stock the cupboards with groceries and cleaning supplies. I'm part of the committee that welcomes a woman to her new house and stays in her life to help her acclimate.”

“A Friend Indeed?”

She nodded.

Processing everything she'd told him, Cain stayed silent. He'd accomplished his purpose. A woman who not only donated the services of her business, but also bought groceries, was obviously committed to this charity. Anything he did for A Friend Indeed would be a kindness to her. Clearly, they'd won her heart. So all he had to do was make a big contribution, and his conscience would be clear.

But figuring that out also meant he had nothing more to say.

He could try to make up a reason to talk to her, but he'd already proven chitchat wasn't his forte. Plus, that would only mean staying longer with the woman whose mere presence made him ache for what they'd had and lost. There was no point wanting what he couldn't have. They'd been married once. It had failed.

Exhaling a big breath, Cain rose. “I'm sorry I bothered you.”

Her brow puckering in confusion, she rose with him. “I thought you wanted to talk.”

“We just did.” Rather than return to the kitchen and leave through the front door, he glanced around, saw the strip of sidewalk surrounding the house that probably led to the driveway and headed off.

His conscience tweaked again at the fact that he'd
confused her but he ignored it. The money he would donate would more than make up for it.

 

On Monday morning, he had Ava investigate A Friend Indeed. At first she found very little beyond their name and their registration as a charitable organization, then Cain called in a few favors and doors began to open. Though shrouded in secrecy, the charity checked out and on Friday morning Cain had Ava write a check and deliver it to the home of the president of the group's board of directors. She returned a few hours later chuckling.

“Ayleen Francis wants to meet you.”

Cain glanced up from the document he was reading. “Meet me?”

She leaned against the door frame. “I did the usual spiel that I do when you have me deliver a check like this. That you admire the work being done by the group and want to help, but prefer to remain anonymous, et cetera. And she said that was fine but she wouldn't accept your check unless she met you.”

Cain frowned. “Seriously?”

“That's what she said.”

“But—” Damn it. Why did everything about Liz have to turn complicated? “Why would she want to meet me?”

“To thank you?”

Annoyed, he growled. “I don't need thanks.”

Ava shrugged. “I have no idea what's going on. I'm just the messenger.” She set the check and a business card on Cain's desk. “Here's the address. She said it would be wonderful if you could be there tonight at eight.”

Cain snatched up the card and damned near threw it in the trash. But he stopped. He was
this
close to making it up to Liz for their marriage being a disaster. No matter how much he'd worked with his dad before he sold the family business in Kansas and retired, Cain had never been able to do enough to make up for his brother's death. His parents had accepted Tom's death as an accident and eventually Cain had, too. Sort of. As the driver of the car, he would always feel responsible. He'd never let go of that guilt. But he did understand it had been an accident.

But his troubled marriage wasn't an accident. He'd coerced Liz. Seduced her. More sexually experienced than she had been, he'd taken advantage of their chemistry. Used it. She hadn't stood a chance.

And he knew he had to make that up to her. Was he really going to let one oddball request stand in his way of finally feeling freed of the debt?

A
RRANGING HER NOTES
for the executive board meeting for A Friend Indeed held the first Friday of the month, Liz sat at the long table in the conference room of the accounting firm that handled the finances for the charity. The firm also lent them space to hold their meetings because A Friend Indeed didn't want to waste money on an office that wouldn't often be used. Their work was in the field.

Ayleen Francis, a fiftysomething socialite with blond hair and a ready smile who was the president of the board, sat at the head of the table chatting with Ronald Johnson, a local man whose daughter had been murdered by an ex-boyfriend. A Friend Indeed had actually been Ron's brainchild, but it took Ayleen's money and clout to bring his dream to fruition.

Beside Ron was Rose Swartz, owner of a chain of floral shops. Liberty Myers sat next to Rose and beside Liz was Bill Brown. The actual board for the group consisted of sixteen members, but the six-person executive board handled most of the day-to-day decisions.

Waiting for Ayleen to begin the meeting, Liz handed the receipts for the groceries she'd purchased for
Amanda and her kids to Rose, the group's treasurer, as well as a statement for cleaning services. Liz donated both the food and the services, but for accounting purposes A Friend Indeed kept track of what each cost.

“Thank you, Liz,” Rose said, her smile warm and appreciative. But before Liz could say you're welcome, someone entered behind her and a hush fell over the small group.

Ayleen rose just as Liz turned to see Cain standing in the door way. “I'm assuming you're Cain Nestor.”

He nodded.

Ayleen smiled and turned to the group. “Everyone, this is Cain Nestor, CEO of Cain Corporation. He's visiting us this evening.”

Shock and confusion rippled through Liz. She hadn't seen Cain in three years, now suddenly he was everywhere! Worse, she'd brought him here. She'd given him the name of the group when he followed her to Amanda's. She couldn't believe he was still pursuing the opportunity to thank her for staying with him while he was sick, but apparently he was and she didn't like it. She was over him. She wanted to stay over him!

“Just take a seat anywhere.” Ayleen motioned to the empty seats at the end of the table.

Cain didn't move from the doorway. “Ms. Francis—”

Ayleen smiled sweetly. “Call me Ayleen.”

“Ayleen, could we talk privately?”

“Actually, I don't say or do much for A Friend Indeed without my executive board present. That's why I asked your assistant to pass on the message for you to meet me here. If you'll let me start the meeting, I'll tell the group about your donation—”

Liz frowned. He'd made a donation? To
her
charity?

“My assistant was also supposed to tell you that the donation was to be kept confidential.”

“Everything about A Friend Indeed is confidential.” She motioned around the room. “Nothing about the group goes beyond the board of directors. Some things don't go beyond the six people at this table. However, none of us keeps secrets from the others. But if you don't care to stay for the meeting, then I'll simply tell the group I'm refusing your donation.”

Cain gaped at her. “What?”

“Mr. Nestor, though we appreciate your money, what we really need is your help.” She ambled to the conference-room door. “As I've already mentioned, everything about A Friend Indeed is confidential. That's out of necessity. We give women a place to stay after they leave abusive husbands or boyfriends.” She smiled engagingly as she slid her arm beneath Cain's and guided him into the room.

“For their safety, we promise complete anonymity. But because we do promise complete anonymity to our clients, we can't simply hire construction firms to come and do repair work on our houses. As a result, several of them are in serious disrepair.”

Liz sat up, suddenly understanding the point Ayleen was about to make. The group didn't need money as much as they needed skilled, trustworthy volunteers.

“The amount of your check is wonderful. But what we really need is help. If you seriously want to do something for this group, what we'd like is your time.”

Cain glanced at Liz, then returned his gaze to Ayleen. “What are you saying?”

“I'm asking you to do some work for us.”

He looked at Liz again. Her skin heated. Her heartbeat jumped to double-time. He was actually considering it.

For her.

Something warm and syrupy flooded her system. He'd never done anything like this. It was overkill as a thank-you for her helping him through the flu. Donating money was more within his comfort zone. Especially donating anonymously. A secret donation of money, no matter how big, was easy for him.

But A Friend Indeed didn't need his money as much as his help. And he was considering it.

Holding his gaze, Liz saw the debate in his eyes. He'd have to give up time, work with people. Ordinary people. Because someone from A Friend Indeed would have to accompany him. A stranger couldn't go to the home of one of their abused women alone.

But, his money hadn't been accepted. If he still wanted to do something nice for Liz, it would require his time. Something he rarely gave.

Continuing to hold Liz's gaze he said, “What would I have to do?”

Liz smiled. Slowly. Gratefully. She didn't care as much about a thank-you as she cared about A Friend Indeed. About the families in the homes that needed repairs. She'd been up close and personal with most of them, since her group was in charge of cleaning them for the families, and she knew just how bad some of the homes were.

Alyeen said, “Liz? What would he have to do?”

Liz faced Ayleen. “Cain paid his way through university working construction jobs in the summer. If he could spare the time, the house we moved Amanda into a few weeks ago has a lot of little things that need to be repaired.”

“It's been years since I've done any hands-on construction. I can't make any promises without seeing the house.”

Ayleen clapped her hands together with glee. “Understandable. I'll have Liz take you to Amanda's.”

Liz's heart thumped. She wanted his help, the group
needed
his help, but she didn't want to have to be with him to get it.

“I'm not sure I can,” Liz said at the same time that Cain said, “That's not necessary.”

“You're a stranger to us,” Ayleen firmly told Cain. “For the safety and assurance of our families, I want you with someone from the board at all times.” She faced Liz. “Liz, you've been at Amanda's every weekend since she moved in anyway. And you obviously know Cain. You're the best person to accompany him to Amanda's tomorrow.” She smiled at Liz. “Please.”

Drat. She shouldn't have mentioned her knowledge about Cain's construction experience. But she had been amazed and grateful that he was willing to help. She'd be crazy or shrewish to refuse to do her part.

“Sure.”

Ayleen maneuvered Cain into a seat, but not once did Liz even glance in his direction. It was one thing to appreciate the gift of his help, quite another to be stuck spending time with him. Worse, the whole idea that he'd be willing to actually work,
physically work
, to thank her for a few hours of caring for him gave her a soft fluttery feeling in her stomach.

She ignored it. They had to spend time together the next day. Maybe hours. She couldn't be all soft and happy—but she couldn't be angry with him, either. He was doing a huge favor for a charity that meant a great deal to her.

Of course he'd wanted to do it anonymously. Being with her probably wasn't a happy prospect for him any more than it was for her. With anybody else she'd be figuring out a way to make this deal palatable for them. So maybe that's what she needed to do with Cain. Find a way to make this easy for him, as if they were two friends working together for a charity.

The thought caused her brow to furrow. They'd never been friends. They'd been passionate lovers. A distant married couple. Hurt divorced people. But they'd never really been friends. They'd never even tried to be friends.

Maybe becoming friends was the real way for them to get beyond their troubled marriage? To pretend, even if only for a few hours, that the past was the past and from this point on they were two nice people trying to help each other.

 

Cain was already at Amanda's house the next morning when Liz arrived. Instead of his black Porsche, he waited for her in one of his Nestor Construction trucks. An old red one.

Keeping with her decision to treat him as she would a friend, she smiled and patted the side of the truck bed. “Wow. I haven't seen one of these in years.”

He walked around the truck and Liz's smile disappeared as her mouth fell open slightly. She'd already noticed his T-shirt, but for some reason or another, the jeans he wore caught her off guard. He looked so young. So capable. So…sexy.

She cleared her throat, reminding herself that this was a new era for her and Cain. Friends. Two nice people working together for a charity.

“Mostly, we use Cain Corporation trucks now.” He grinned. “But when I ran Nestor Construction, this one was mine.” He patted the wheel well. “She was my first.”

“Ah, a man and his truck.” Eager to get out of the sun and to the reason they were here, Liz turned to the sidewalk. “Come on. This way.”

They walked to the front door and Liz knocked. Joy answered, but Amanda was only a few feet behind her. She grabbed the giggling three-year-old and hoisted her into her arms. “Sorry about that.”

Liz laughed. “Good morning, Joy,” she said, tweaking the little girl's cheek as she passed.

Joy buried her face in Amanda's neck. “Morning.”

Amanda looked pointedly at Cain. “And this is Cain?”

Cain held out his hand for shaking. “Sorry about our first meeting.”

Amanda smiled. “That's okay. Neither one of us was in good form that day. Can I get you some coffee?”

Cain peered over at Liz.

Liz motioned for everyone to go into the kitchen. “Of course, we'd love some coffee.”

When Amanda walked through the swinging door out of sight, Liz caught Cain's arm, holding him back. “If she offers something, take it. A lot of the women who come to us have little to no self-esteem. It makes them feel good about themselves to have coffee or doughnuts to offer. Take whatever she offers and eat it.”

Looking sheepish and unsure, he nodded and everything inside Liz stilled. For the first time in their relationship she knew something he didn't. He needed her.

Their gazes caught.

Liz smiled, downplaying the reversal of their roles and seeking to reassure him.

The corners of his mouth edged up slowly in response, and his entire countenance changed. Crinkles formed around dark eyes that warmed.

The hallway suddenly felt small and quiet. The memory of how much she'd loved this man fluttered through her. With one step forward she could lay her palm on his cheek. Touch him. Feel his skin again. Feel connected to him in the only way they'd ever been connected. Touch.

But one touch always led to another and another and another. Which was probably why making love was the only way they'd bonded. They'd never had a chance to be friends. Never given themselves a chance to get to know each other.

Sad, really.

Instead of stepping forward, she stepped back, motioning to the door. “After you.”

He shook his head. His voice was rich, husky when he said, “No. After you.”

He'd been as affected by the moment as she had been. For a second she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, as another possibility for why he'd been so insistent on thanking her popped into her head. He hadn't forgotten their sexual chemistry any more than she had. They hadn't been good as a married couple, but they had been fantastic lovers. What if he was being kind, using this “thank you” as a first step to seducing her?

A sickening feeling rose up in her. He hadn't hesitated the first time. He'd done everything he'd had to do to get her to Miami, into his bed. Working for a charity was small potatoes compared to some of the things he'd done to woo her, including whisk her to Vegas and seduce her into marrying him.

Well, six years later she wasn't so foolish. So young. So inexperienced. If he dared as much as make a pass at her, he'd find himself with a new Friend Indeed employee as his liaison. He'd still have to fulfill his end of the bargain. He just wouldn't do it with her.

She headed for the swinging door. Cain followed. In the kitchen, Amanda already had three mugs of coffee on the table. The room was spotless and smelled of maple syrup. Amanda had the look of a woman who'd happily served her daughter breakfast.

Cain took a seat at the table. “We can use this time to talk about what you need me to do.”

“You're doing the work?”

Liz caught Amanda's hand, forcing her gaze to hers for reassurance. “Yes. Cain worked in construction to put himself through university.”

“And as a bartender and a grocery boy. I was also a waiter and amusement-park vendor.” He smiled at Amanda as she sat. “School was four long years.”

Amanda laughed.

Liz pulled her hand away. “So go ahead. Give Cain the list of things that need to be done.”

“First, the plumbing.”

He took a small notebook from his shirt pocket. “Okay.”

“There are some places with missing baseboard.”

“Uh-huh.”

“The ceiling in the first bedroom has water marks.”

Without looking up from his note taking, Cain said, “That's not good.”

“And most of the walls need to be painted.”

“You guys can help with that.”

Liz hesitated. She didn't want to agree to time in the
same room with him, but from the sounds of the list Cain's work here wouldn't be a few hours. He'd be here for days and Liz would be, too. If she had to be here to oversee things, she might as well have something to do. Plus, the more she did, the sooner her time with Cain would be over.