Maid For The Untamed Billionaire

Maid For The Untamed Billionaire Miranda Lee From making his bed… To sharing it! Charismatic Jake Sanderson has always flustered shy housekeeper Abby Jenkins. She deliberately avoids his intoxicating presence while she's cleaning his Sydney mansion. Until, after an emotional encounter, she glimpses another side to her enigmatic boss… Being suddenly swept into Jake’s world—and his arms!—is an eye-opening experience for widow Abby. Exhilarated by their thrilling chemistry, she’s finally emerging from the shadows of her grief, more confident than before. But when Jake’s number one rule is no long-term relationships, how can ordinary maid Abby possibly tame the wild billionaire? From making his bed… To sharing it! Charismatic Jake Sanderson has always flustered shy housekeeper Abby Jenkins. She deliberately avoids his intoxicating presence while cleaning his Sydney mansion. Until, after an emotional encounter, she glimpses another side to her enigmatic boss… Being suddenly swept into Jake’s world—and his arms!—is an eye-opening experience for widow Abby. Exhilarated by their thrilling chemistry, she’s finally emerging from the shadows of her grief, more confident than before. But when Jake’s number one rule is no long-termrelationships, how can ordinary maid Abby possibly tame the wild billionaire? Born and raised in the Australian bush, MIRANDA LEE was boarding-school-educated, and briefly pursued a career in classical music before moving to Sydney and embracing the world of computers. Happily married, with three daughters, she began writing when family commitments kept her at home. She likes to create stories that are believable, modern, fast-paced and sexy. Her interests include meaty sagas, doing word puzzles, gambling and going to the movies. Also by Miranda Lee (#u76a56ca2-61b7-5606-9892-0121d0b641aa) Taken Over by the Billionaire The Italian’s Unexpected Love-Child Marrying a Tycoon miniseries The Magnate’s Tempestuous Marriage The Tycoon’s Outrageous Proposal The Tycoon’s Scandalous Proposition Rich, Ruthless and Renowned miniseries The Italian’s Ruthless Seduction The Billionaire’s Ruthless Affair The Playboy’s Ruthless Pursuit Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk). Maid for the Untamed Billionaire Miranda Lee www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) ISBN: 978-1-474-08853-4 MAID FOR THE UNTAMED BILLIONAIRE © 2019 Miranda Lee Published in Great Britain 2019 by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental. By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher. ® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries. www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) Note to Readers (#u76a56ca2-61b7-5606-9892-0121d0b641aa) This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings: Change of font size and line height Change of background and font colours Change of font Change justification Text to speech Dedicated to my sister, Wendy. A lovely lady and my best friend. Contents Cover (#uac4355fd-0129-5d21-96d5-eecf74c0dd72) Back Cover Text (#u1ae14a1f-5922-57ac-93c2-cb069f5f0df7) About the Author (#u52ec3ae4-ae35-5a57-a07e-b902c32f89a9) Booklist (#uf50b86d6-fc09-5ca1-b5b9-303fff32c442) Title Page (#ucee57c1f-82c7-5dc4-8de2-20d255205074) Copyright (#u3fd4100c-1f61-598c-bf13-f29cc325d903) Note to Readers Dedication (#u5c084fae-1d21-5de2-bd7f-e5948fe164cd) PROLOGUE (#u9eefbab6-83af-51c0-b178-2d5e29581a00) CHAPTER ONE (#uffcdf8e8-dd3b-575c-a23f-406675a1e701) CHAPTER TWO (#u3aa63ca5-cd49-5d39-962c-57a5501ed584) CHAPTER THREE (#ua52311ea-1314-5d52-bc73-f8560d31340f) CHAPTER FOUR (#u3b5670dd-d699-58dd-bd8f-33bdb8071699) CHAPTER FIVE (#u5b3dcf0b-dcd4-5158-9032-3efe4b843830) CHAPTER SIX (#ud104186d-f276-5292-b5a2-06dc83abee99) CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER THIRTY (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo) EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo) Extract (#litres_trial_promo) About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo) PROLOGUE (#u76a56ca2-61b7-5606-9892-0121d0b641aa) JAKE NEEDED A HOUSEKEEPER. But not the live-in kind. The last thing he wanted was someone underfoot all the time, picking up after him, forcing him to make conversation and invading his space. The reason Jake had bought a house a few years ago was to have his own space. After spending weeks in hospital and then another month at the rehabilitation clinic, he’d wanted nothing more than to be by himself. So he’d turned down the offers to live with relatives and bought this place in East Balmain, calling it a thirtieth birthday present to himself. He’d thought he could make do with a cleaner coming in three times a week. And he had managed—in a fashion, even in the beginning when he’d been pretty useless, his leg still not totally healed. He’d shopped online and sent his laundry out, a routine he’d continued even after he was fully better and back working. But it had finally become tedious, seeing to all the other chores which owning and maintaining a house involved. He loathed having to wait for tradespeople, who didn’t always turn up on time. Patience was not his strong suit. Jake could well afford to pay someone to do everything for him. He’d already been a wealthy man before the success of his television show, so it had never been a matter of money. More of privacy. Not that he had much privacy any more, his star having risen over the last couple of years, his every move recorded on social media and in the gossip rags. But not at home. His home was his sanctuary, as well as his castle. So it was imperative that Jake find the right kind of housekeeper, a task which had proven to be much more difficult than he’d assumed, mostly because he simply hadn’t liked any of the women he’d interviewed for the position. It was silly, really, given he wouldn’t have to have anything much to do with the woman on a personal basis. His brief to the various employment agencies was for his housekeeper to work only during the week, not at the weekends. She was to come in after he left for work every weekday morning, and be gone by the time he arrived home, which often wasn’t until quite late. Producing and hosting Australia at Noon consumed every minute of every weekday from morning until late afternoon. So it shouldn’t really matter whether he liked his housekeeper or not. But he couldn’t stomach the thought of someone he didn’t like in his personal space when he wasn’t there. The main problem was that every woman he’d interviewed so far had been a big fan of his show. Not a crime, admittedly. But irritating. They had all been way too gushy. And way too eager. Jake was suspicious of eager, especially when it came to women. A flaw, he supposed, common with confirmed bachelors. Still, he kept picturing them putting things about their wonderful new job and their wonderful new boss on all the social media sites they would invariably be on, complete with photos. The upshot was he hadn’t hired any of them, and was instead waiting for another candidate to arrive, sent out by Housewives For Hire, a newish employment agency, the owner of which had fortuitously appeared on a segment of his show a few days ago. Her agency promised to provide exactly the sort of employee he was looking for. Apparently, the women on their books were mostly housewives themselves, wanting to earn extra money whilst their children were at school. He’d rung the lady who owned the agency the other night—her name was Barbara—explaining what kind of housekeeper he needed. He’d asked her to find him someone suitable, preferably a woman who didn’t obsessively watch his show and think he was God’s gift to women. She’d promised to find him the right person. So here he was, sitting in his study at five to two on a Saturday afternoon, waiting to interview Barbara’s top recommendation, but thinking to himself he was possibly wasting his time again. This woman Barbara was sending him was way too young for starters. Only twenty-six. And a widow no less. How on earth had that happened? Barbara hadn’t said and he hadn’t liked to ask. Jake sighed. A car accident, he supposed. Or an illness of some kind. At least she didn’t have children. Nothing sadder than a young widow trying to raise children alone. Nothing tougher, either. This young woman—her name was Abby Jenkins—was apparently looking for work and wasn’t qualified for much, her very short CV showing she had left high school at seventeen to work in a fish and chip shop till she’d married at twenty, shortly after which she’d left to become a stay-at-home housewife. A strange choice for a modern young woman. Rather old-fashioned, in Jake’s opinion. Made her sound a little odd. He didn’t fancy employing odd. But he would give her a chance. Everyone deserved a chance. He heard a car pull up outside. A glance at his watch showed it was right on two. She was punctual at least. Jake stood up and made his way from the study to the front door, arriving in time to unlock the deadbolt just as the doorbell rang. He took a deep breath and opened the door, not sure what to expect. His breath caught at the sight of a very pretty blonde whose lovely green eyes were looking up at him with a decidedly worried expression. No, not worried. Nervous. The girl was terribly nervous, chewing at her bottom lip and clutching the strap of her black shoulder bag as if it were a lifeline. He supposed it was only natural that she’d be nervous. Barbara had mentioned that this was the girl’s first job interview for her agency. Possibly it was her first job interview ever. Jake’s eyes flicked over the rest of her appearance. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a cream crocheted top, their snug fit showing a very good figure. Her honey-blonde hair was long and straight, pulled back into a low ponytail. She wasn’t wearing make-up, not even lipstick. It pleased Jake that she hadn’t dolled herself up like some of the other women he’d interviewed. ‘Mr Sanderson?’ she asked hesitantly. Jake’s eyebrows rose at the realisation that she didn’t recognise him. Which meant she hadn’t ever watched his show, or any of the documentaries he’d made over the years. He didn’t know whether to be happy or hurt, which was ironic. Either way, it was still a positive factor. He definitely didn’t want a housekeeper who was a fan. ‘Yes, that’s me,’ he replied, willing now to overlook the fact that she was not only way too young but way too pretty. Jake reasoned that if he hired her, he wouldn’t be around her on a daily basis so he wouldn’t be in danger of being tempted by her very attractive package. Because, to be honest, it would be seriously hard to ignore those eyes. And that mouth. Jake dragged his gaze away from it before his mind wandered into R-rated territory. ‘And you must be Abby,’ he said, smiling a little stiffly. She smiled back. Not a big smile. A small one. But it showed lovely white teeth behind those luscious lips. ‘Yes,’ she said simply, then added in a rush, ‘it’s very good of you to give me an interview.’ ‘Barbara recommended you highly,’ he said. She seemed startled. ‘She did?’ ‘Indeed, she did. Said she’d dropped in unexpectedly at your home before she signed you up and it was immaculate.’ A soft blush pinked her cheeks. Lord, but she was sweet as well as pretty. Jake liked pretty women, but he wasn’t usually attracted to sweet. Till now… ‘I like to keep things nice and neat,’ she said. ‘Same here,’ he said rather brusquely. ‘Come in and we’ll talk some more.’ ‘Oh. Right. Yes.’ But she didn’t move, her lovely eyes wide and unblinking. Maybe he’d frightened her with his brusqueness. Jake could be very charming, when he chose to be. But he could also be intimidating. Very charming was definitely not on. But intimidating was not nice either. Best stick to businesslike. ‘Perhaps I should give you a tour of the house first,’ Jake suggested matter-of-factly, stepping back and waving her inside. ‘Show you what you’ll be letting yourself in for. You might not want the job, even if I offer it to you.’ ‘I’m sure I will, Mr Sanderson,’ she said and made her way past him into the hallway, where she stopped and stared down. ‘Oh, what a lovely floor. I love polished wooden floors.’ ‘They’re hard work to keep clean,’ came Jake’s blunt comment as he shut the front door behind her. ‘I’m not afraid of hard work,’ she said, turning to look up at him. Jake admired the flash of feistiness in her eyes. It came to him then that he liked this girl. Really liked her. ‘Excellent,’ he said, knowing that he had found his housekeeper at last. And if it bothered Jake that he also found Abby very desirable, then he determined to ignore it. But he also determined to put things in place so that he would hardly ever see her. Out of sight was out of mind, after all! CHAPTER ONE (#u76a56ca2-61b7-5606-9892-0121d0b641aa) Twelve months later… ABBY WAS HUMMING happily as she locked up her neat little weatherboard cottage and headed off to work. She never suffered from Monday-itis. She liked her job. Liked looking after Jake Sanderson’s very beautiful house. And looking after Jake Sanderson himself, despite not liking him all that much. Still, Abby would always be grateful to the man for hiring her when she had no current work experience or references. Frankly, she still could not believe her luck at getting such a cushy position. Aside from the convenience of getting to work—East Balmain wasn’t too long a drive from Seven Hills—she was her own boss since Jake was never there when she was. She could do as she pleased; have breaks whenever she wanted; work at her own pace. Not that she was a slacker. Abby was somewhat of a perfectionist when it came to keeping house. You could eat food off the floors in her own home. And off Jake’s by the time she left each day. Admittedly, when she first arrived on Monday mornings, things could be on the extra messy side. Abby always knew when Jake had had company over the weekend, the kind who stayed the night and didn’t bother to lift a finger to pick up dirty wine glasses or load the dishwasher or do anything other than whatever it was his playmates did. The man who’d been voted most popular television personality earlier this year was reputed never to be short of female company. Abby’s sister, Megan, who was addicted to Twitter and gossip magazines, kept Abby well informed about who her boss was currently dating. His latest squeeze was a newsreader from the same television channel that Jake’s show aired on. Her name was Olivia, a stunning brunette with big brown eyes and a figure to die for. A smile to die for as well. There had been a time when Abby would have felt jealous of that smile. But not any more. Abby stopped humming abruptly as her tongue ran over her top teeth, still amazed at how fantastic they felt. Her bottom teeth too. Of course, porcelain veneers came at a huge cost. Abby still hadn’t finished paying off the personal loan she’d taken out to have them done. But really, it had been a case of necessity rather than vanity. ‘You need confidence to go back into the workforce after all this time, hon,’ her sister had advised. ‘Which means you need to do something about your teeth!’ And Megan had been so right. Imagine showing up for an interview with Jake Sanderson the way she’d been. She suffered from fluorosis, a condition which involved an excess of fluoride, caused perhaps by eating fluoride laced toothpaste as a child. She’d loved the taste. Her fluorosis had worsened over the years, the brown stains darkening, pitting her teeth, especially the top ones. Wayne had said she was beautiful the way she was. But Abby had never believed him. So finally, when there’d been no Wayne to object, she’d taken Megan’s advice and gone to the dentist. It had been the best thing she’d ever done, despite putting her into debt. Not for much longer, though. Each week she saved every penny she could from her wages, not spending a cent on female fripperies like having her hair and nails done, or even clothes. She just made do with what she had. She also rarely ate out, or went out. If there were no further unexpected expenses—like having to pay for Timmy to have his tonsils out—she would be debt free by Christmas and able to finally start up her travel fund. Abby had always wanted to see the world, dreams of one day travelling overseas sustaining her when she’d been an unhappy teenager. Okay, so those dreams had been replaced by other dreams when she’d married Wayne, her focus changing to creating a happy family life, the sort of family life that neither she nor Wayne had ever had. But those dreams had failed to eventuate… Abby swallowed hard for a few moments, pushing the awful memories aside and forcing herself to focus on dreams which were achievable. And which might make her forget. They did say time healed all wounds. Time, and hopefully travel. Her dream holiday would encompass at least six months, seeing Europe, Asia and the Americas. There were so many places on her USA bucket list. Niagara Falls. The Grand Canyon. New York. Which meant of course that one day she’d have to quit her job as Jake’s housekeeper. Megan thought she was crazy to contemplate giving up her cushy job to go tripping around the world. But Abby didn’t agree. She needed to have a dream which looked forward and not back. If she wanted to travel, then she would travel. And to hell with her job as Jake Sanderson’s housekeeper. He’d survive without her, and she’d certainly survive without him. Shortly before nine-thirty, Abby turned into the street which led to Jake’s house. The road sloped gently down to the water, and the ferry terminal, most of the houses two-storey terraces which dated back to the early twentieth century. All of them had been renovated at some stage, Balmain being a very desirable address these days, a far cry from its working-class roots. Jake’s house had once been a large corner shop which someone had bought and turned into a house, extending it up and out. Jake had bought it a few years ago. It had come fully furnished in the Balinese style and with everything else he wanted, including a no-lawn backyard, a lap pool with a relaxing water feature and an en suite guest bedroom downstairs. Apparently, at the time of his purchase, he’d been suffering from some leg injury incurred whilst working overseas and hadn’t been capable of climbing stairs for a while. He’d told her all this on the day he’d given her the job, when he’d shown her through the place and explained what he expected her to do. Frankly, he’d spoken to her more that day than in the subsequent twelve months. Megan was always asking Abby questions about her oh, so famous and handsome bachelor boss, not quite believing her sister when Abby said she still knew next to nothing about him other than the basics, which was that he’d once been a famous documentary maker and was now an equally famous television show host. She had recently learnt that he had a favourite uncle named Craig who was a fairly famous foreign correspondent. Abby only knew this because the man himself had recently come to stay for a while after he’d suffered a skiing mishap. Megan probably knew a lot more about Abby’s boss since she avidly watched his programme every day. It was called Australia at Noon, a live one-and-a-half-hour programme which focused on celebrity interviews and current affairs, with a bit of variety thrown in—a tried and true formula whose success depended on the popularity of its host. Which Jake Sanderson was. Very. Abby did turn his show on occasionally during her lunch break but found she wasn’t as entranced by it—or by its handsome host—as her sister. She found it hard to match his charming television persona with the rather abrupt man who rarely said more than two words to her on the rare occasions their paths crossed. Not that she cared, as long as he kept on employing her and paying her till her travel fund was full. This last thought popped into Abby’s mind shortly after she let herself into the house and saw what was written in capital letters on the whiteboard in the utility room, where her boss wrote down things he wanted her to do, or buy. He never texted her, seeming to prefer this rather impersonal method of communication. Will be home around three. Need to talk to you about something. Jake Abby’s stomach flipped over, her immediate thought being that she’d done something wrong and he was going to fire her. But then common sense kicked in, Abby reasoning it might be nothing more important than his wanting to show her something which needed doing. Yes, that was probably it. No need to panic. But a sense of panic still hovered as time ticked slowly away that day. Meanwhile, Abby worked like a demon so that by the time three o’clock came around every room and surface in Jake’s house was clean and shining. All the pictures and side tables had been dusted. The washing had been done and dried, the master bed remade with clean sheets and fresh towels hung in the main bathroom. Even the courtyard had been swept, and a few of the pavers scrubbed where some red wine had been spilled. She hadn’t had a break, eating her lunch on the go. At ten to three Abby removed her cleaning gloves and tidied her hair, brushing it before putting it back up into her usual ponytail. She always wore jeans and trainers to work, with a T-shirt in the warm weather and a sweater in the cold. Today’s jeans were old and faded and a bit loose. Her black T-shirt was slightly too big for her as well. She’d lost weight lately, courtesy of her banning chocolate and ice cream from her diet. Abby sighed at her reflection in the laundry mirror. She wished she looked better. She would have taken more trouble with her appearance this morning if she’d known she was going to have a meeting with her boss. But how could she have known? She hadn’t seen him for weeks. Still, she really should go out and buy herself a few new things. Jeans and T-shirts didn’t cost much at Kmart. Three o’clock came and went without any sign of Jake. After ten minutes she wondered if she should text him. She did have his phone number but he’d made it clear from the start that she wasn’t to bother him that way, except in an emergency. Him being late was hardly an emergency. Still, if he hadn’t arrived by three-thirty she would text him. Meanwhile, she hurried to the kitchen and put on the kettle. CHAPTER TWO (#u76a56ca2-61b7-5606-9892-0121d0b641aa) JAKE STEPPED OUT onto the deck of the ferry and scooped in several deep breaths. His stomach was still tied up in knots. He’d done his best with his show today, but his mind hadn’t been on the job. Not that he cared. Frankly, he wouldn’t care if he never did another show. Andrew had stood in for him as host last Friday and the ratings were just fine. No one was indispensable in the entertainment game. Jake contemplated letting Andrew take over for a week or two whilst he took a well-needed break. He’d jump at the chance, ambitious young buck that he was. Alternately, he might sell the show lock, stock and barrel and do something else with his life. Harvest Productions had been sniffing around for ages. If he could talk Sebastian into making him a half decent offer, he just might take him up on it. Though maybe not… Jake ran his fingers through his hair in total frustration. Damn it. He hadn’t felt this indecisive in years. Of course he knew the reason. He just didn’t like facing it. Sighing, he made his way over to the railing and stood there, staring out at the water. Sydney Harbour on a clear calm day in spring was a sight to behold. But Jake wasn’t in the mood for admiring his surroundings. Or even noticing them. Closing his eyes, he surrendered to the grief which he’d had to put on hold today whilst he did the show, and which he’d been struggling to contain for several days. Jake still could not believe that his uncle was actually dead. Not even the funeral last Friday had made it real. He could not picture Craig in that coffin. Could not conceive of the fact that he would never see the man again. Would not talk to him again. Or drink with him. Or anything at all with him. Craig had been much more than an uncle to Jake. He’d been his mentor and his friend. His idol, too. Even as a boy, Jake had admired the way his uncle lived his life. Craig hadn’t gone down the traditional route, getting a nine-to-five job then marrying and having children. He’d become a foreign correspondent, travelling the world to all the wildly exotic and sometimes dangerous places which fired Jake’s imagination. He’d also stayed single, explaining once to a teenage Jake that for him to marry would be cruel to the woman, and to any children they had because he would neglect them shamelessly. There’d been women, of course. Lots of women. Beautiful, exciting women who’d graced the dashingly handsome Craig Sanderson’s bed but who knew never to expect any more than his highly stimulating company. Jake had decided long before he left university with his communications degree that that was the life for him. No way was he going to follow in his father’s footsteps. Craig’s only brother had married before he was twenty, when his even younger girlfriend fell pregnant, then worked himself to death—literally—to support his ever-increasing brood. Jake couldn’t think of anything worse. He could not recall his father—when he was alive—having any time to himself. Everything he’d done had been for his family. When his dad died of a coronary at the age of forty-seven, Jake had been heartbroken but more determined than ever to embrace bachelorhood as well as a job which he loved and not one he was compelled to do just to pay the bills and put food on the table. Jake had been true to his resolve. He’d spent his twenties making documentaries in far-flung corners of the world, earning a small fortune at the same time. He’d still be overseas, living that life, if a run-in with a group of rebels in war-torn Africa hadn’t forced his life into a different direction. Working in television was tame by comparison, but it had its moments. Jake couldn’t really complain. Admittedly, since he’d stopped flitting from country to country and city to city, Jake had given up one-night stands and fleeting flings in favour of longer relationships. If you could call a few months long, that was. His current girlfriend was a career-orientated and highly independent woman who was great company, great in bed and knew better than to pressure him for marriage or, God forbid, a baby. Olivia had assured him on their first date that she wouldn’t get bitten by the biological clock bug like his last girlfriend. The only responsibility Jake wanted in life was paying his own personal bills. Which was exactly the way things had been…till the solicitor for Craig’s estate had dropped his bombshell at the wake. Jake already knew he’d been left the bulk of his uncle’s estate, Craig having given him a copy of his will for safekeeping. What he hadn’t known was that Craig had summoned his solicitor to his bedside a few days before his death and given him a letter for Jake, to be delivered after his funeral. Jake pulled the letter out of his pocket, unfolded it and read it for the umpteenth time. Dear Jake Hope you aren’t angry with me for not telling you about my illness, but there was nothing anyone could do and I do so hate pity. I had a good life, my only regret being that I didn’t go out with more style. A bullet or a bomb would have been much more me. But on to the reason for this letter. Jake, there’s something I want you to do for me. Last July, when I stayed at your place after I bunged up my knee, I got to know your very nice housekeeper quite well. Abby was extra kind to me and went over and above the call of duty to make my stay both comfortable and enjoyable. And, no, nothing untoward happened between us. She’s not that sort of girl. Anyway, on to my request. I didn’t want to add a codicil to my will. Too much trouble at this stage. Still, what I would like, Jake, is for you to buy Abby a new car to replace that appalling bomb she drives. Something small and stylish but with a long warranty. I also want you to give her twenty-five thousand dollars out of your considerable inheritance to go towards her travel fund. Please insist that she not use it for any other purpose. Don’t let her give it away to any of those free-loading relatives of hers. I have every confidence that you will do this for me. You’re a good man. And not a greedy one. Give Abby my love and tell her not to wait too long to see the world. Life is meant to be lived. The same goes for you, my boy. I’ll be watching over you from above. Your Uncle Craig Jake closed his eyes as he folded the letter, a huge lump having formed in his throat. ‘Damn it, Craig,’ he ground out, his heart squeezing tight with grief. ‘You should have told me you were ill. I could have been there for you the way you always were for me. You shouldn’t have had to die alone.’ And you should have just put a damned codicil in your will, came the added thought, grief finally giving way to exasperation. It was impossible not to do what Craig asked, Jake accepted as he shoved the letter back in his pocket. But it annoyed him all the same. It wasn’t a question of money. He had plenty of money. It was the fact that fulfilling his uncle’s deathbed wishes would force him into Abby’s personal space—and company—something he’d been careful to avoid ever since he’d hired her. Because let’s face it, Jake, you fancy her even more now than ever. But he could see no way out. He would just have to gird his loins and endure! CHAPTER THREE (#u76a56ca2-61b7-5606-9892-0121d0b641aa) AT TWENTY PAST THREE Abby’s boss finally showed up, looking slightly harassed but still very handsome in a smart grey suit and a crisp white shirt which highlighted his dark hair, olive complexion and deep blue eyes. Even Abby had to admit that in the flesh her boss was a hunk. But she’d never been blindly attracted to a man on looks alone. Handsome is as handsome does, in her opinion. What attracted her most in the opposite sex was kindness and gentleness, qualities which Wayne had had in spades. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ Jake said as he strode into the kitchen, where Abby was making herself coffee. ‘Damned ferry was running late. Could I trouble you for some coffee? Black, with no sugar,’ he ordered as he slid on to one of the kitchen stools, reefing off his tie at the same time. Abby wanted to scream at him. Didn’t he know how stressed out she was? But she held her tongue and made him the darned coffee. ‘So what did you want to talk to me about?’ she asked as soon as she’d placed his mug in front of him. She stayed standing on the other side of the breakfast bar, not daring to pick up her own coffee yet for fear of spilling it. His forehead bunched in a frown, which only added to her discomfort. ‘You’re going to fire me, aren’t you?’ she blurted out. His head shot up, his dark brows arching. ‘What? No. No, of course not! Good God, is that what you thought this was about?’ She just shook her head at him. ‘I didn’t know what to think.’ ‘Why on earth would I want to fire you? You are the best housekeeper a man could have. I’m sorry if you thought that.’ Abby found herself flushing at his compliment. And his apology. Relief swamped her as well. She didn’t want to lose this job. Not for a good while yet. ‘It’s to do with Craig’s will,’ Jake said abruptly. ‘Craig’s will?’ she repeated, feeling somewhat confused. ‘Are you talking about your uncle Craig, the man who stayed here for a while during the winter?’ It had been back in July, she recalled, about four months ago. ‘Yes. The thing is, Abby, he’s left you something in his will.’ Abby just stared at Jake, shock joining her confusion. ‘Are you saying that he’s dead?’ ‘What? Oh. Yes. Yes, he died last week. Incurable cancer,’ he finished up with a heavy sigh. ‘But…but that’s impossible! I mean, he was so alive not that long ago.’ ‘Tell me about it,’ Jake said as he swept an agitated hand through his hair. ‘It came as a shock to me as well. I gather he found out during an MRI for his busted knee about the cancer. But he never told anyone, not even me. And we were very close. I knew nothing about his illness till his solicitor rang and told me he’d passed away.’ Abby found it hard to understand what he was saying. ‘You mean you weren’t with him when he died?’ ‘No. No one was, other than the palliative care nurse. He’d booked himself into a hospice without telling anyone.’ ‘But that’s terrible!’ Abby declared heatedly, upset that anyone would choose to die like that. Jake’s shrug carried a weary resignation. ‘It was what he wanted. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about his death. It was all over the news at the weekend. He was quite famous.’ ‘I… I don’t often watch the news.’ ‘I see.’ She wanted to ask him why he hadn’t told her himself, but of course why would he? She wasn’t a relative, or a friend. He wouldn’t have known how much she’d enjoyed the time she’d spent with his uncle whilst he’d stayed here. Craig had been a fascinating individual, highly intelligent, widely travelled and very well read. He’d been incredibly nice to her, showing an interest in her as a person and not just some kind of maid. The day before he’d left, he’d given her a list of ten books which he said everybody—especially young women—should read. She was still slowly working her way through them. They were the reason she didn’t watch the news much any more, and why she hadn’t seen the report of his death. Tears flooded her eyes at the realisation that this very nice man was actually dead. ‘He…he said he was going away to have a holiday.’ Abby’s voice caught at the memory. ‘He told me the same thing,’ Jake said. ‘Instead he went away to die,’ she choked out. ‘Alone…’ Abby couldn’t think of anything sadder than dying alone. It was the main thing which haunted her about Wayne’s death. That he’d been all alone, out there in the ocean, with the storm raging around him and little chance of being rescued. Had he lost all hope in the end? Had despair engulfed him in the moments before he drowned? Suddenly, a huge wave of grief overwhelmed her, emotional distress welling up in Abby till it could not be contained. Tears filled her eyes so quickly they spilled over and ran down her cheeks. When a sob escaped her throat, Jake stared at her with a look of horror. Embarrassment flooded in but there was no stopping her now. When more sobs racked her body, all Abby could do was bury her face in her hands. She simply couldn’t bear to witness her boss watching her whilst she wept her heart out. No doubt she was making a fool of herself. No doubt he thought she was a typically sentimental female to cry over a man she hardly knew. The feel of strong male arms suddenly pulling her into a comforting embrace shocked Abby rigid. She certainly hadn’t expected a hug. Not from her very aloof boss. Unfortunately, his uncharacteristic kindness only made her weep all the more. ‘There, there,’ he said, patting her back as she clasped the lapels of his suit jacket and sobbed into his shirt. ‘No need to cry. Craig had a good life, with no regrets. He wouldn’t want you crying over him. Craig wasn’t one for tears.’ Abby could hardly explain that it wasn’t just Craig’s death which had set her off, but the way he’d died. All alone. Oh, God… Abby was gritting her teeth and doing her best to pull herself together when Jake stopped patting her back and slid his arms right around her, holding her quite close. No doubt he was still just trying to comfort her but for some reason Abby no longer felt comforted. She felt very discomforted. Because she liked him hugging her like that. She liked it a lot. The urge to slide her own arms around his back was acute. She wanted to hug him back, wanted to bury herself in the solid warmth of his very male body and…and… And what, Abby? Make an even bigger fool of yourself? For pity’s sake, get a grip, girl. Taking a deep gathering breath, Abby lurched backwards, releasing the lapels of Jake’s jacket as she gulped down a sob of shame. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she choked out, her face flushing as she spun away from him and grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the kitchen counter, not saying another word till she’d blown her nose and composed herself. She did note rather ruefully, however, that Jake didn’t wait long to hurry back to the other side of the breakfast bar. Her groan carried more shame. ‘I’ve embarrassed you, I can see. It’s just that… Oh, never mind.’ Her fisted right hand came up to rub agitatedly at her mouth. For a moment she was tempted to confide in Jake about Wayne’s tragic death. But only for a moment. Maybe, if he’d been any other kind of man she might have explained why she’d been so upset at the news of his uncle dying alone like that. But Jake didn’t invite confidences. Why, he’d never even asked her how her husband had died! Despite his hug just now, Jake didn’t really care about her. She was just his employee, hired to look after his house. His housekeeper. A glorified cleaner, if truth be told. Craig hadn’t treated her like that. He’d been genuinely interested in her life. Not that she’d told Jake’s uncle the total truth. Abby had become masterful at blotting out the really painful parts in her past. Talking about them wouldn’t have achieved anything, anyway. ‘The thing is,’ she went on, compelled to make some excuse for her emotional display, ‘I really liked your uncle a lot.’ ‘He must have liked you a lot too,’ Jake replied. ‘Well, yes,’ she said slowly. ‘He seemed to.’ ‘You haven’t asked me what he left you,’ Jake went on, his eyes on her. ‘What? Oh… Some books, I suppose.’ Jake frowned at her. ‘No, no books,’ he said. ‘Nothing as mundane as that.’ ‘Then what?’ she asked, perplexed. ‘To be honest, he didn’t leave you anything directly. He left a letter for me with instructions of what he wants you to have.’ She blinked, then frowned. ‘That sounds…weird.’ ‘Yes, I thought so too,’ he agreed drily. ‘But Craig was never a conventional man. Look, why don’t we both drink our coffee before it gets cold? Then, afterwards, I’ll fill you in on everything.’ When Jake picked up his coffee mug, Abby did likewise, sipping slowly and thoughtfully. A hot drink always calmed her. And brother, she needed calming after that crazy moment when she’d almost hugged her boss back. ‘I would have liked to go to his funeral,’ she said after a suitably calming minute or two. ‘Was he buried or cremated?’ ‘Buried,’ he said. ‘Where?’ she asked. Jake’s face looked grim as he put down his coffee. ‘Rookwood Cemetery.’ She wasn’t sure where that was. She didn’t have a GPS in the ute and often got lost. ‘I’d like to go and visit his grave some time. Pay my respects. Say a prayer or two. Would you take me?’ she asked him before she could think better of it. Jake’s sigh suggested that was the last thing he wanted to do. ‘Okay,’ he said with a resigned shrug. ‘But I can’t go till next Saturday. In the meantime, wouldn’t you like to hear about what Craig wanted me to give you?’ ‘Oh, yes. What is it?’ ‘Well, first of all he wants me to buy you a new car. Something small and stylish, with a decent warranty.’ Shock at this news was swiftly followed by confusion. ‘But that doesn’t seem right,’ she said. ‘As much as I would love a new car, why should he ask you to pay for such a thing?’ ‘It’s basically Craig’s money, Abby. He left most of his estate to me. Trust me when I say that my inheritance was considerable. So it’s no hardship on me to spend a seriously small portion of it on you.’ ‘But why didn’t he just leave some money to me in his will to buy my own car?’ ‘I have no idea. It might have been simpler all round if he’d done that. Apparently, he was worried that you might not spend it on yourself—that you might give it away to relatives.’ ‘Oh, dear,’ she said, embarrassed. ‘I suppose it’s because I told him about paying for Timmy’s operation.’ ‘No. He didn’t mention anything specific. Who’s Timmy?’ ‘My sister’s little boy. She’s a single mum and doesn’t have any private health insurance. Timmy needed his tonsils out but would have had to wait eighteen months to have it done. She couldn’t afford the operation so I paid for it to be done privately.’ ‘I see,’ he said, his tone sceptical. A degree of anger pushed aside Abby’s embarrassment. ‘Please don’t think my sister’s a user because she’s not. She’s doing the best she can under the circumstances. Megan didn’t ask me to pay for Timmy’s operation. That was my idea. She won’t come and live with me, even though I said she wouldn’t have to pay any rent. Your uncle got the wrong idea.’ ‘Possibly, but that’s irrelevant now. I have no alternative but to follow through with Craig’s dying wishes. He was most specific in his letter about what he wanted me to buy for you. A new car is the first cab off the rank. Then he wants me to give you twenty-five thousand dollars. For your travel fund, he said.’ Abby’s mouth dropped open. ‘Twenty-five thousand! But…but that’s way too much. What will people think?’ ‘Who cares what they think?’ came his arrogantly dismissive comment. ‘And who are they?’ ‘My sister for starters. She’ll think I’ve done something I shouldn’t have with your uncle to get him to leave me all that money.’ ‘Really. Such as what?’ ‘You know what,’ Abby shot back. ‘True,’ he said drily. ‘In that case I suggest you don’t tell her about your unexpected windfall.’ Abby gave a snorting laugh. ‘Hard to hide a brand-new car.’ ‘True again. So what do you want me to do, Abby? Go against my uncle’s wishes? Forget everything?’ She looked at him with pained eyes. ‘I couldn’t do that. I don’t care so much about the new car, but I couldn’t turn down the travel fund money. It’s my dearest wish to go overseas and see the world. And I’d like to go before I get too old.’ Jake laughed. ‘You’re hardly ancient, Abby.’ ‘I might be by the time I save up twenty-five thousand dollars.’ He seemed startled by this statement. ‘Do I pay you that poorly?’ ‘No. But I have a house and a lot of bills.’ And the remainder of a debt for porcelain veneers. Jake frowned. ‘You have a mortgage?’ ‘No. My husband’s life insurance paid that off. But I still have a lot of bills. Maintaining a house is expensive.’ ‘Tell me about it,’ he said with the first hint of a smile that day. He really wasn’t much of a smiler. Not with her, anyway. He smiled on television a lot though. Abby wished he would smile more. It really transformed his face from cardboard handsome into a likeable human being. Unfortunately, his smile also did things to Abby which she was finding hard to process. Her stomach curled over and she found herself staring at his mouth and thinking totally unacceptable things. Like what would it be like to be kissed by him? And not just on her mouth. Lord, but this wasn’t like her. She didn’t even enjoy sex that much, unlike her sister, who couldn’t live without it. Sex with Wayne had been okay, but nothing to write home about. She’d done it whenever he wanted, more for him than herself, because she’d loved him so much. In her mind, making love was a natural part of loving. Of marriage. She’d never been into sex for sex’s sake. Why then was she looking at her boss and thinking that here was a man who just might change her mind on that subject? Not that she’d ever have the chance to find out. Not only did he have a gorgeous girlfriend but he was totally off-limits. He was her boss, for heaven’s sake! On top of that, he clearly didn’t fancy her. A girl knew when a man fancied her and Jake definitely didn’t. Her eyes dropped from his to her near empty coffee cup. ‘I’m still finding it hard to believe all this,’ she said, glancing up again once she had her wayward thoughts under control. ‘In one way it’s like a dream come true. But I still can’t get over your uncle dying like that. And all alone.’ ‘Indeed,’ Jake said, that hint of a smile disappearing as quickly as it had come. ‘I’ve been thinking,’ he went on, his face very businesslike again. ‘I’ll put next Saturday aside so that I can take you to visit Craig’s grave in the morning, then we’ll go on and buy you a car afterwards. It’s not far from Rookwood Cemetery out to the major dealerships at Parramatta. Do you trust me to pick out a car for you, or do you want to choose one yourself?’ ‘Well, I… I don’t know,’ she stammered, startled by how quickly he wanted to organise everything. ‘I’m not much of a car buff. But if it’s going to be mine I think I would like to look up a few possibilities on the internet.’ ‘It’s a good idea to buy something that is cheap to repair,’ he advised firmly. ‘I would suggest you look at the Japanese cars. Or the Korean ones.’ ‘All right,’ she agreed. He seemed to know what he was talking about, whereas she was pretty ignorant when it came to cars. ‘And what bank account would you like the twenty-five thousand put into? The same one your salary goes into, or do you want to start up a special travel fund account?’ Abby was taken by surprise when her chin began to quiver. But really today had all been a bit much. ‘Don’t you dare start crying again,’ he commanded. Abby bit her bottom lip and blinked madly. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered through gritted teeth. ‘I’m not usually a cry baby.’ Which was true. Nowadays, Abby kept her emotions under tight control. There had been a time when she’d cried too much. And too often. But no longer. Lifting her chin, she speared her boss with a dry-eyed and rather rebellious glare. ‘Good,’ Jake snapped, making Abby want to hit him. How on earth she could have been sexually attracted to this man—even for a moment—was beyond her. ‘You should go home,’ he went on in that same brusque manner. ‘You look tired. Ring me when you’ve decided on the brand of car and we’ll make arrangements for Saturday. You can tell me then what account you want the money put into.’ ‘All right. Bye then,’ Abby went on rather sharply, gathering up her things and taking off before she could say or do something which might jeopardise her job. Or Craig’s remarkable legacies. She almost slammed the front door, just getting control of her temper in time. She did slam the door on the ute and accelerated off faster than her usual sedate speed. But she soon slowed down, telling herself not to be so silly. No point risking her life because her boss was a pain in the butt. Think about your new car, she told herself. And all that lovely money. Abby sighed. Yes, it was sad that Craig was dead, but life went on, as she very well knew. You had to search for the positives in life or you would go mad. Another thought suddenly came to Abby which made her wince. How much of this was she going to tell Megan? As she’d said to Jake, you couldn’t hide a new car. But perhaps it would be best if she didn’t tell her sister about the money. It might make her jealous and, yes, suspicious. Abby pulled a face at herself in the rear-view mirror. She hated lying to Megan but she just might have to. Oh, dear. Even when things took a turn for the better, life wasn’t easy. CHAPTER FOUR (#u76a56ca2-61b7-5606-9892-0121d0b641aa) ‘YOU HANDLED THAT WELL,’ Jake growled as he pulled a bottle of red at random out of his wine rack. ‘I love the way you kept her at a distance.’ Still, what could he do when she started crying like that? Common sense demanded he do nothing. But common decency insisted that he comfort her. Big mistake. The moment he’d taken her in his arms, all those good intentions of his dissolved in the face of a desire so strong it took every ounce of willpower not to pull her even closer than he had. He didn’t want to pat her damned back. Or utter soothing words. He wanted to tip up her chin and kiss the tears from her lovely face. Thank God he hadn’t given in to that desire. Because she would not have surrendered to him as she did in his darkest dreams. She would have slapped him, then resigned as his housekeeper. Abby didn’t particularly like him. That, he knew. Which should have been a relief, given his resolve never to act on his secret desire for her. Instead he felt peeved by her indifference. And jealous of her obvious affection for Craig. Which was all perverse, given his own decision not to have anything to do with her on a personal level, a decision which fate—courtesy of his uncle—had now blown out of the water. Next Saturday morning he would be personally escorting Abby to Craig’s graveside, then afterwards he would be personally buying her a car. That was all pretty personal, in his opinion. But there was no way out, Jake accepted bleakly as he gazed down at the label of the bottle he’d pulled out and saw it was one of his favourites. A Shiraz from the Clare Valley. Good. Because he needed to get drunk. And he might as well do so on a favourite tipple rather than rubbish. Not that he ever bought rubbish, he admitted as he poured himself his first glass. Long gone were the days when he drank rough red from casks. Hell, he hadn’t done that since his university days. And yet they had been good days. Happy days. Carefree days. Nothing like today, Jake thought ruefully as he lifted the glass to his lips for a deep swallow. Today would not go down as good. Or happy. Or carefree. Today was…what? He wasn’t sure how to describe it. Dangerous came to mind. And not in a good way. Jake had enjoyed danger in his life at times. But this was a different kind of danger. This wasn’t physical danger. This involved his emotions. Intense, uncontrollable emotions. Jake didn’t like intense, uncontrollable emotions. They made you do things which never ended well. Jake carried the glass and the bottle out to his courtyard, where he placed the bottle on the small circular glass table he liked best then sat down in the chair next to it. When his phone rang, he saw that it was Olivia. He didn’t want to talk to Olivia just now. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. So he just turned off the phone and went back to drinking his wine. CHAPTER FIVE (#u76a56ca2-61b7-5606-9892-0121d0b641aa) WITHIN SECONDS OF arriving home Abby rang Megan, not wanting to procrastinate over the call. Megan would only be even more suspicious if she waited too long to give her the good news. ‘Hi there, kiddo,’ Megan answered, a term of endearment which often led people to think Megan was the older sister. And whilst there wasn’t much between them, Abby was actually older by fifteen months. Abby had already decided that the best way to play this was to sound very happy about it. And she was happy. Just a bit wary about her sister’s reaction. ‘You’ll never guess what’s happened,’ Abby said brightly as she dumped her bag on the floor and plonked herself into a nearby armchair. ‘Something good by the sound of things.’ ‘Unbelievably good!’ And she launched into an explanation of the day’s events. As planned, she left out the part about the travel fund money and only mentioned the new car. Naturally, she didn’t include the bit about her bursting into tears and Jake hugging her. Megan exclaimed a shocked, ‘No!’ at the news about the new car, but thankfully didn’t make any sarcastic crack about what Abby might have done with Jake’s uncle to deserve such an incredibly generous gift. Things might have been different, however, if she’d mentioned the twenty-five thousand dollars as well. Though possibly not. Maybe Megan instinctively knew that Abby would never do anything sexual with a man she didn’t love. Wayne had been her first and only lover because he was the first and only man she’d ever loved. ‘Aren’t you a lucky duck?’ Megan said without a trace of jealousy in her voice. ‘A brand-new car! And you don’t even have to wait for probate to come through, since your hunky boss is buying you the car himself. This Saturday, you said?’ ‘Yes. This Saturday.’ ‘It’s a wonderful gift. Especially when you hardly knew his uncle. But perhaps not so much if he was filthy rich. Was he filthy rich?’ ‘He must have been. Jake said he’d inherited heaps. That’s why he doesn’t mind forking out the money for me for a car.’ ‘Oh, right. Still, it’s nice of him to do that. He’s not legally obliged to, I would imagine.’ ‘Probably not, but he said he would never go against his uncle’s deathbed wishes.’ ‘Did you see this letter his uncle left him?’ ‘Well, no, but why would he lie about something like that?’ ‘Maybe he fancies you.’ ‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous! Why would he fancy someone like me when he has that gorgeous girlfriend? I’ve been thinking, Megan, since I’m getting a new car, would you like the ute? I know it’s done a good few miles but it goes really well. Wayne put a new engine in it not long before he died.’ ‘Oh, I’d love it. Thanks, Abby.’ ‘Jake is going to take me to see his uncle’s grave as well,’ she blurted out before she could think better of it. The silence at the other end of the line was telling. ‘Oh, is he?’ Megan said at long last in one of her knowing voices. ‘And why is he doing that?’ ‘Because I asked him to,’ Abby said, angry with herself. ‘And, before you jump to conclusions, we’re just dropping in at the cemetery on the way to the car yards at Parramatta. It’s hardly out of his way. And you are so wrong about his fancying me.’ Megan laughed. ‘We’ll see, hon. We’ll see.’ ‘Oh, for pity’s sake.’ ‘You’ve always underestimated your looks, Abby. Even when your teeth were not great, you were gorgeous. Now that you’ve had them fixed, you’re a knockout. And your figure is to die for.’ ‘Oh, go on with you!’ ‘No, I mean it. Your fantastic figure was one of the reasons Wayne was so possessive of you. And why he didn’t want you to work after you were married. Because he didn’t want other men lusting after you.’ Abby’s first reaction was to hotly deny what Megan said. But in her heart of hearts she knew it was true. Wayne had been very possessive of her. Right from the start, he’d wanted her all to himself. Which had suited Abby fine. All she’d wanted back then was to be Wayne’s wife, plus the mother of his children. She’d been only too happy to stop work and not have to face the world every day with her horrible teeth. Not so happy, however, as the years had passed and the nursery remained empty. ‘That’s probably the reason he wouldn’t pay for you to get your teeth fixed,’ Megan continued. ‘Because he was afraid you’d be too beautiful and he’d lose you to another man.’ ‘That’s ridiculous!’ Abby protested. ‘The reason I didn’t get my teeth fixed back then was because it’s very expensive and we had a huge mortgage. Besides, Wayne already loved me, even with my horrid teeth. As for being too beautiful, please don’t make me laugh. Even if by some miracle I’d become the most beautiful woman in the world, I would never have left Wayne, no matter what. I loved him.’ ‘Did you, Abby? Or did you just love that he loved you with the kind of crazy obsession which can be oh, so flattering?’ ‘I did so love Wayne,’ she insisted. ‘Very much. We would have been happy together if we’d had children.’ Megan sighed. ‘If you say so, Abby.’ ‘I do say so. Now, I do not wish to discuss Wayne any more, thank you. I didn’t realise how much you disliked him.’ ‘I didn’t dislike him. I just didn’t think he was good enough for you. You deserved someone better.’ Abby didn’t know whether to feel flattered or frustrated. ‘Such as who, Megan? Prince Charming?’ ‘Yeah, why not? And let me tell you something else, kiddo. If you bought some new clothes and put on some make-up occasionally, you would be so hot that every man you met would be drooling. And that includes your handsome hunk of a boss.’ Abby didn’t like to tell Megan that she was being delusional—about Jake at least—so she just laughed. ‘Yeah, you can laugh if you like. Just you wait and see. Speaking of your boss, did you happen to watch his show today?’ ‘Hardly. I was too busy cleaning his house.’ ‘He interviewed Maddie Hanks. You know, the latest Aussie actress who’s made it big in Hollywood?’ ‘I know who you mean. She was in that biblical epic. Played a slave girl.’ ‘Yeah, that’s the one. Well, she was flirting with Jake big time. And brother, she is stunning. He seemed very taken with her. Couldn’t keep his eyes off her cleavage. Though I don’t think her boobs are real. Anyway, I wouldn’t mind betting they get together in the near future.’ Abby rolled her eyes. Truly, her sister was so addicted to gossip that she saw scandalous behaviour everywhere. ‘Jake already has a gorgeous girlfriend,’ she pointed out. ‘That newsreader. Remember?’ ‘Huh! That won’t stop him getting into Miss Hanks’s pants.’ ‘He’s not like that,’ Abby said sharply. ‘Oh, really? And how would you know, Miss I-Know-Nothing-Personal-About-My-Hunk-of-a-Boss? Did something else happen today that you didn’t tell me about?’ ‘No,’ she denied, blanking the hug out of her mind. ‘Look, I’m not overly fond of the man, but he’s not some sleazebag.’ ‘Wow. He’s sure got you fooled. All men can be sleazebags if the right temptation comes along.’ Abby just shook her head. ‘Truly, Megan, you are such a cynic when it comes to men.’ ‘I have good reason to be.’ This was true. Timmy’s father hadn’t been the first man in Megan’s life to treat her badly. She’d met a few since becoming a single mother who’d wined and dined her till they got what they wanted before dumping her as cruelly as the cowardly creep who’d got her pregnant then disappeared once he discovered fatherhood was too much commitment for him. ‘I hope you’re going to make yourself presentable when your boss takes you out on Saturday,’ Megan said. ‘It’s not a date, Megan.’ ‘You still want to look a bit nicer than you do when you clean his house.’ ‘I will do my best.’ ‘Good. Gosh, wait till Jan hears all this. She’s going to be green with envy.’ Jan was Megan’s next-door neighbour, a single mother like Megan. She was one of the reasons Megan wouldn’t come to live with Abby, because she didn’t want to leave her best friend. Abby wasn’t overly keen on Jan, but she’d been a good friend to Megan and had a similar personality. Both were very easy-going but extremely untidy. Abby had been somewhat relieved when Megan knocked back her offer for her and Timmy to come live with her. Their messy lifestyle would have driven her mad within a week. ‘Jan’s sure to think I did something suspect with Jake’s uncle,’ Abby said drily. ‘Nah. Now if it was me.’ Abby smiled. ‘Come on, Megan, you’re not as bad as you pretend to be.’ ‘Yeah, I am. Not everyone is as saint-like as you, sweetie. Though, to give you credit, being a goody-two-shoes got you somewhere this time. I dare say you waited on that rich old bastard hand and foot. You probably even baked him those delicious peanut butter cookies of yours.’ Abby fell silent with guilty embarrassment. She had made a fuss of Jake’s uncle. But, at the time, it had been ages since her nurturing side had had an opportunity to flourish. Looking after Jake’s house was a rather impersonal job. It had been so satisfying to bake cookies for a real man and, yes, watch him eat them with relish. She’d enjoyed it all immensely. ‘You did, didn’t you?’ Megan said with laughter in her voice. ‘No wonder he thought of you when he was dying. Those cookies of yours are super-yummy. Though way too fattening. I refuse to let you make me any more. Though Timmy wouldn’t mind some, when you have your next baking session. I have to go and get the little devil himself now. He’s been playing next door. Ring me tomorrow night. Gotta go. Love ya.’ ‘You too.’ After Abby clicked off her phone she just sat there, thinking about some of the things Megan had said about her marriage to Wayne. It was true that her husband had loved her more than she’d loved him. But she had loved him. Okay, not with a grand passion. Her feelings for Wayne had been based more on a deep friendship and eternal gratitude rather than the kind of wild sexual yearnings which some people obviously experienced. Abby supposed she had been flattered by Wayne’s fiercely possessive love. And his insatiable desire for her. After her second miscarriage, she’d wanted to take her doctor’s advice to go on the Pill and give her body a rest. But no, Wayne had refused to countenance that idea, saying he didn’t like to interfere with nature. He’d promised instead to abstain from sex for a while but, of course, that hadn’t lasted for long. He’d never been able to control his desire for her and she’d never felt good about refusing him, mostly because she knew how much he seemed to need it. Abby liked the kissing and cuddling part of lovemaking—she’d loved being wrapped in Wayne’s strong arms—but she’d never felt any urgent need for the sex act itself, unlike Megan, who claimed she couldn’t live without it. It had never really bothered Abby that she didn’t come during lovemaking. It had bothered Wayne, however, so after a while she had just faked it. She hadn’t had to fake falling pregnant, however, and a few months after her second miscarriage she’d been pregnant again. But, once again, she’d miscarried at the three months stage. After that, she’d gone on the Pill without discussing it with Wayne, and she was still taking it long after her husband was gone, mainly because she’d discovered it saved her from premenstrual tension. It felt good, Abby realised, to finally be in control of her body and, yes, her life. She’d been gutted by Wayne’s tragic death, had taken months to get over it. But in the end she’d picked herself up and moved on. Now, because of Craig’s wonderful kindness and generosity, she would be able to move on some more. And Jake would find another housekeeper easily enough. Thinking of Jake reminded Abby of what Megan had said about him, and about men in general. Abby had to admit that her view of the opposite sex was possibly narrower than her sister’s. But she wasn’t stupid. She was sure she would recognise a sleazebag when she came across one. And Jake Sanderson was no sleazebag. But that was possibly the only good point of his character. Abby could see that he had a tendency towards arrogance and self-absorption. Neither was he into commitment, hence his never-ending parade of beautiful girlfriends. But that didn’t mean he would be a cheater. She couldn’t imagine him having sex with some flashy, fly-by-night actress whilst he was dating that truly gorgeous newsreader. Abby would be utterly disgusted if she ever found out he had done something like that. Not that it was any of her business what her boss did in his private and personal life. Still, it bothered her a bit, thinking that he could be, right at this moment, meeting up with Maddie Hanks somewhere in the city then bringing her back to his place for the night. It occurred to Abby that she would know within a minute of arriving at his house tomorrow morning if he’d had a new woman stay overnight. Abby knew his current girlfriend’s smell because she recognised the perfume. It was a heavy musky scent which didn’t wear off easily. During the last few weeks Abby had smelled that perfume every couple of days, and almost always on a Monday after the weekend. But not this Monday morning, she suddenly realised. Which led her to wonder if maybe they’d split up. Maybe that was why he’d been giving Maddie Hanks the eye on his show today. Men like Jake didn’t go without sex for long. Because they didn’t have to. Women threw themselves at famous men in droves—beautiful, sexy, successful women who knew everything there was to know about lovemaking and never had to fake a thing. A very rude word burst from Abby’s lips as she stood up abruptly then marched into her immaculate little kitchen, where she snapped on the kettle then yanked open the freezer, which was full of frozen meals for one. Still feeling decidedly disgruntled, she grabbed a chilli con carne and shoved it into the microwave to reheat, telling herself all the while that her boss’s sex life was definitely none of her business. ‘He can sleep with whomever he damned well likes,’ she said in a tone quite uncharacteristic of her usual serene self. ‘Just so long as he delivers everything he promised me today!’ CHAPTER SIX (#u76a56ca2-61b7-5606-9892-0121d0b641aa) JAKE LEFT IT until nine that evening to ring Olivia back, having learnt from experience that it was never wise to ring her before she’d been home for a while after work. After reading the news from six till seven, Olivia usually went for a de-stressing drink down near the quay before catching the Manly ferry home. Her phone rang several times before she picked up. ‘Well, hello, stranger,’ she answered waspishly. ‘Why didn’t you answer when I rang you earlier?’ ‘I didn’t feel like talking,’ he said with blunt honesty. ‘Are you upset with me for not going to your uncle’s funeral?’ ‘No,’ he told her with equal honesty. ‘I didn’t expect you to cancel your arrangements when they’d been organised weeks before Craig died.’ Olivia and five of her girlfriends had driven up to a resort in the Blue Mountains on the Friday for a hen party for one of the girls, who was getting married shortly. ‘I was home by eight last night,’ Olivia pointed out tartly. ‘Why didn’t you ring? I was waiting for your call. Or your text. Or something.’ Jake was totally taken aback. They didn’t have the kind of relationship where they called and texted each other all the time. They were lovers, but not in love. ‘You told me you were turning off your phone for the weekend,’ he reminded her. ‘Nothing stopped you ringing me when you got home last night.’ ‘I was tired.’ ‘More likely hungover.’ ‘Yes,’ she admitted grudgingly. ‘That, too. But you still could have contacted me this morning.’ ‘Come now, Olivia. You know I’m busy on weekday mornings, getting ready for my show.’ ‘Ah, yes. Your show,’ she said in a tone which had a decided edge to it. ‘I happened to watch your show today…’ ‘And?’ he prompted when she didn’t go on. ‘I saw the way you were ogling that actress’s boobs. You do know they’re fake, don’t you?’ Jake could not believe what he was hearing. He sincerely hoped it wasn’t the sounds of jealousy. Because jealousy meant only one thing. ‘I dare say it was the cameraman doing the ogling,’ he said coldly. ‘Not me.’ ‘That’s not the way I saw it. Just remember that if you’re dating me, Jake darling, you can look, but you can’t touch anyone else.’ ‘Don’t start getting possessive on me, Olivia,’ he warned, his tone darkly ominous. There was a short silence before she suddenly laughed. ‘Of course not. I was only kidding. Any red-blooded man would have to be blind not to ogle Maddie Hanks’s boobs. That’s why they pay her so much to take off her clothes. So when am I going to see you next? I was thinking we could meet up somewhere in the city for dinner tomorrow night. Caf? Sydney, perhaps?’ Jake knew if he did that then Olivia would want to come back to his place for the night. And he simply didn’t want to have sex with her. Truth be told, he’d been glad she’d gone away the previous weekend. After Craig’s wretched funeral and wake he’d just wanted to be alone. ‘I don’t think so, Olivia,’ he told her, trying not to sound as cold and hard as he suddenly felt towards her. But in his head he kept comparing her to Abby, who had cried in his arms over a man she hardly knew. And that was before she knew what he’d left her. Olivia might look all woman but she didn’t have a soft or compassionate bone in her body. She could read the most tragic news and shed not a single tear. ‘But why not?’ Olivia demanded to know in the stroppy tone she adopted when things weren’t going her way. Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/pages/biblio_book/?art=48664742&lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.