completely natural, spun gold and wheat over rich coppers and browns. And his eyes, such a lovely gray blue, beautiful beneath straight brows. She realized he was waiting for her answer.
Forcing herself to retrieve the thread of their conversation, she said lamely, “I just meant, um, that I’m not so good at it. I’ll have to learn, I guess, is what I mean.”
Appearing somewhat mollified, Daniel seemed to accept her explanation. “I’ve written a list of your chores. I’ll get you started with each one, but after today I’ll expect you to do them on your own. You can always ask me anything of course, if you have questions along the way.”
He handed Alex a sheet of paper with a list of items printed in a neat, masculine hand. It read—
Clean master and guest bathrooms , including toilets , sinks , counters and floors .
Collect used towels for laundry and place fresh towels in the bathrooms .
Dust living room , study and den .
Weed flower gardens .
Sweep and mop kitchen floor .
Vacuum carpets .
As she read through the list, Alex glanced up at Daniel, unable to control her expression of incredulity. “You expect me to do all this in a week?”
“A week?” Daniel retorted. “Those are your chores for today! After you finish each job, you report back to me. I’ll inspect your work and reward or punish you accordingly. Then you’ll need to shower and groom so you’ll be ready for Liam.”
Alex was momentarily silenced by his promise of a reward or punishment. Nervously she bit her lower lip. “I don’t know, Daniel. Like I said, I’m not that good a housekeeper…”
“That’s all right. By the time I’m done with you, you will be.”
* * * * *
A half-hour after breakfast found Alex hovering anxiously behind Daniel, who had entered the much-larger master bath to check on her first chore of the day. He’d shown her where cleaning supplies were kept and given her an apron and a few cursory instructions about what he expected.
As Alex had scrubbed, wiped, sprayed and mopped, she’d grumbled to herself. Being someone’s unpaid drudge was not her idea of an erotic adventure! Still, she had to admit, it made a certain kind of sense to share the duties of the other resident submissive. Daniel was working in the kitchen, she knew. It wasn’t as if he were just using her for free maid service. She tried to think of it as something sexy—a French maid on her knees as the Master came in to have his way with her…but she couldn’t quite manage it, especially not while she was scouring the toilet. Why couldn’t men aim better, for Pete’s sake?
He looked at the mirrors and examined the faucets and sinks, all shiny clean. He stepped to the toilet, lifting the lid and peering into the bowl. He ran his finger along the inside of the bathtub and opened the shower stall, closing it after a moment with a satisfied nod. His glance fell to the bath rug and he frowned. Alex followed his gaze and saw a bit of tissue, which she hurriedly bent down to retrieve and toss in the trash can.
“You swept the floor and mopped it?” he asked, frowning.
“Um, yes.” She had swept and she’d run a damp mop around the edges of the room. Jesus, this wasn’t a freaking hotel, for god’s sake. The place looked way cleaner than when she’d started, what was the guy’s problem?
Daniel knelt and lifted the edge of the bath rug. He shook it, watching as dust and a few bits of lint sprang free. “The fresh bath rugs are in the linen cabinet,” he said, pointing. “You should have seen them when you put out the clean towels.” He picked up the rug and shook it out again before dropping it into the hamper. On the floor where it had been lay two more crumpled tissues, proof positive Alex hadn’t picked up the rug in order to sweep and mop.
She felt her face heat with chagrin. “Hey,” she said weakly. “I told you I’m not that good a housekeeper.” She knew her voice sounded whiny. She was angry at herself
Forcing herself to retrieve the thread of their conversation, she said lamely, “I just meant, um, that I’m not so good at it. I’ll have to learn, I guess, is what I mean.”
Appearing somewhat mollified, Daniel seemed to accept her explanation. “I’ve written a list of your chores. I’ll get you started with each one, but after today I’ll expect you to do them on your own. You can always ask me anything of course, if you have questions along the way.”
He handed Alex a sheet of paper with a list of items printed in a neat, masculine hand. It read—
Clean master and guest bathrooms , including toilets , sinks , counters and floors .
Collect used towels for laundry and place fresh towels in the bathrooms .
Dust living room , study and den .
Weed flower gardens .
Sweep and mop kitchen floor .
Vacuum carpets .
As she read through the list, Alex glanced up at Daniel, unable to control her expression of incredulity. “You expect me to do all this in a week?”
“A week?” Daniel retorted. “Those are your chores for today! After you finish each job, you report back to me. I’ll inspect your work and reward or punish you accordingly. Then you’ll need to shower and groom so you’ll be ready for Liam.”
Alex was momentarily silenced by his promise of a reward or punishment. Nervously she bit her lower lip. “I don’t know, Daniel. Like I said, I’m not that good a housekeeper…”
“That’s all right. By the time I’m done with you, you will be.”
* * * * *
A half-hour after breakfast found Alex hovering anxiously behind Daniel, who had entered the much-larger master bath to check on her first chore of the day. He’d shown her where cleaning supplies were kept and given her an apron and a few cursory instructions about what he expected.
As Alex had scrubbed, wiped, sprayed and mopped, she’d grumbled to herself. Being someone’s unpaid drudge was not her idea of an erotic adventure! Still, she had to admit, it made a certain kind of sense to share the duties of the other resident submissive. Daniel was working in the kitchen, she knew. It wasn’t as if he were just using her for free maid service. She tried to think of it as something sexy—a French maid on her knees as the Master came in to have his way with her…but she couldn’t quite manage it, especially not while she was scouring the toilet. Why couldn’t men aim better, for Pete’s sake?
He looked at the mirrors and examined the faucets and sinks, all shiny clean. He stepped to the toilet, lifting the lid and peering into the bowl. He ran his finger along the inside of the bathtub and opened the shower stall, closing it after a moment with a satisfied nod. His glance fell to the bath rug and he frowned. Alex followed his gaze and saw a bit of tissue, which she hurriedly bent down to retrieve and toss in the trash can.
“You swept the floor and mopped it?” he asked, frowning.
“Um, yes.” She had swept and she’d run a damp mop around the edges of the room. Jesus, this wasn’t a freaking hotel, for god’s sake. The place looked way cleaner than when she’d started, what was the guy’s problem?
Daniel knelt and lifted the edge of the bath rug. He shook it, watching as dust and a few bits of lint sprang free. “The fresh bath rugs are in the linen cabinet,” he said, pointing. “You should have seen them when you put out the clean towels.” He picked up the rug and shook it out again before dropping it into the hamper. On the floor where it had been lay two more crumpled tissues, proof positive Alex hadn’t picked up the rug in order to sweep and mop.
She felt her face heat with chagrin. “Hey,” she said weakly. “I told you I’m not that good a housekeeper.” She knew her voice sounded whiny. She was angry at herself
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