Maid for the Millionaire by Susan Meier Page A

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.”
    â€œYou’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.”
    â€œAnd 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.”
    â€œFirst, the plumbing.”
    He took a small notebook from his shirt pocket. “Okay.”
    â€œThere are some places with missing baseboard.”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œThe ceiling in the first bedroom has water marks.”
    Without looking up from his note taking, Cain said, “That’s not good.”
    â€œAnd most of the walls need to be painted.”
    â€œYou guys can help with that.”
    Liz hesitated. She didn’t want to agree to time in thesame 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.
    â€œSure.”
    Because Amanda had stopped listing repair items, Cain finally glanced up. “That’s it?”
    â€œIsn’t that enough?”
    â€œIt’s plenty. In fact,” he said with a wince, “if those water marks are roof leaks, we’ve got a problem.”
    â€œWhy?”
    Cain caught Liz’s gaze and her insides turned to gelatin again. But not because of chemistry. Because of fear. His eyes were soft, his expression grave. He wanted to do a good job. But he also had to be honest.
    She’d only seen him look this way once. When she’d told him she couldn’t plan a huge Christmas party he’d wanted to host for his business associates. She’d been afraid—terrified really—that she’d do something wrong, something simple, but so awful that she’d embarrass them both. He’d been angry first, but that emotion had flitted from his face quickly and was replaced by the expression he now wore. It had disappointed him that she couldn’t do what he needed, but he had to be honest and admit he still wanted the