One Summer At The Lake: Maid for Montero / Still the One / Hot-Shot Doc Comes to Town

He had come up with a workable solution. Now all he had to do was sell it. Isandro did not doubt his ability to do so. That was what he was good at: selling ideas; producing packages that made everyone think they had a good deal.

Zoe had anticipated his anger. After all, from his point of view she was a grade A nuisance. But she had not imagined this level of simmering fury. Even while he had been yelling at her over capsizing the boat, there had been an underlying gentleness, almost a tenderness, in his manner.

Searching his lean, handsome face now Zoe could see no trace of the tenderness. The gleam in his deep-set dark eyes was hard and calculating…She shivered.

‘I don’t play games,’ she protested. ‘And I happen to think that someone who changes his girlfriends like socks and never sees them during daylight hours is not qualified to preach to me on what constitutes a healthy, well-balanced life!’

Having said her piece, she sat down with a bump on the sofa opposite him, her cheeks burning. She drew the folds of the robe around her like a tent and pulled her knees up to her chest.

‘Obviously, how you live your life is none of my business, but that goes both ways. I work for you, but that doesn’t give you a right to criticise my lifestyle unless it impinges on my ability to do my work.’

‘Pardon me for stepping over the line,’ he drawled, tipping his head in mock apology. ‘But I think that line has been blurred from day one with us.’

Eyes trained on the gaping neckline of her robe and the exposed curve of one smooth shoulder, he exhaled through flared nostrils, combating the stab of lust by focusing on the disruption this woman had caused in his life, and not the fact he wanted to touch her skin.

This situation was of his own making. He had broken a fundamental rule. He had allowed the lines to become blurred, and he needed a strict demarcation between his personal and professional lives.

Her eyes lowered. ‘I know I made a bad first impression, but I hoped that by now you’d see that I really am capable of—’

‘Drowning yourself?’ An image of her vanishing under the water began to play on a loop in his head, the images accompanied by the dull bass soundtrack of his blood pumping in his ears.

She flashed him a reproachful look. ‘No. Being a good housekeeper.’

He laughed, and it sounded cruel to Zoe, who sat hunched watching him. ‘You’re a terrible housekeeper.’

A part of her despised wanting to cry. She held the tears back by sniffing and concentrating on the part of her that wanted to throw something at him.

‘I’ve made a few mistakes,’ she conceded.

His brows hit his hairline. ‘A few! You can’t give the most basic instruction, you fall for any sob story and you invite people to take advantage of you.’

‘I think more of people than you do. I trust them.’

‘I know—that’s why you’re sacked.’

He hadn’t intended to deliver the news quite so brutally, but a combination of need and frustration bypassed his subtlety circuits. And diplomacy did not come easy when you had a slow-motion nightmare playing on a loop in your head. He prided himself on his ability to apply cool logic to all situations, but for a moment back there on the water, even though he’d known the boat would get him to her quicker, he had been within a whisper of following his instincts and diving in.

If he had, who knew what the outcome might have been? She called herself a strong swimmer but he knew what he had seen. Though he actually was a strong swimmer, there remained a question mark—could he have reached her in time?

It was possible they might both have perished.

She stiffened as she shot to her feet, every muscle in her body clenched and defensive, refusing to acknowledge the cold fear in her belly. Clasping her hands together, she blew out her breath slowly and flicked back her wet hair.

‘What did you say?’ Her tone was conversational. She had obviously misheard him—nobody would be that brutal, that totally…totally vile.

‘You’re sacked.’

Desperation overcame her anger and she crumbled. ‘I’m really trying—’

‘Do not beg, Zoe. This is not open for discussion.’ She bit her lip.

‘It doesn’t matter how much you try. You’re uniquely unsuited to the role of housekeeper. I think it’ll be easier all around if we cut our losses rather than drag this out. You are not the sort of housekeeper I need.’ You’re the sort of sex I need.

Panic made her voice shrill as she came back, ‘I could be. It’s just I can’t relax around you…’ She caught his look and added quickly, ‘Because you’re my employer.’

Quite suddenly he was tired of this pretence. Sensual mouth compressed, his chiselled cheekbones jutting hard against his golden skin, he silenced her with a sharp jerk of his head as he rose to his feet. ‘That situation has got nothing to do with the fact I pay your wages. A strong sexual connection makes all our encounters less than relaxing, especially when you work so hard trying to pretend it doesn’t exist.’

Zoe turned her head, her mouth open to produce a strong rebuttal, her eyes connected with his glowing dark gaze. Her biggest fear had been him guessing the way she felt, and now he had. So what, she thought despairingly, was the point denying it?

‘Don’t you find it exhausting, Zoe?’ he asked softly.

She stood there mutely staring at him. Inside she was dying of sheer mortification. This was her boss saying he knew she secretly lusted after him. What was she meant to say to that?

For a split second his resolve wavered. She looked so pale, so vulnerable. But it only wavered briefly. Another month like this one and he’d be a basket case.

‘I can only assume you’ve had some problems in the past with female staff and…crushes, but I promise you’re safe from me.’

He didn’t want to be safe from her.

‘Good to know, but you’re still sacked.’

She flinched. The bastard had said it the way someone remarked on the weather. Somewhere deep inside her, rage stirred. ‘Because I don’t fancy you.’

‘If that were true, there would be no problem.’

Her chest swelled as she flung him a look of withering contempt. ‘Even if you were right I have my own rules, too. And the first one is that I never have sex with a man I don’t respect. Believe you me, that rules you out, you contemptuous little snake!’

He gave a low throaty chuckle.

‘Why didn’t you just sack me on that first day?’ That would have been bad but this was worse. Thinking her job was secure, she’d allowed herself to relax, she’d allowed herself to sit here thinking stupid ridiculous thoughts about him, imagining that they might even…Stupid…stupid…stupid! She was so angry with herself she wanted to scream. She took a deep breath and slung a look of loathing his way.

‘I didn’t sack you at that point because my company is in the middle of some sensitive negotiations which could mean a lot of…’ He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. ‘You are not interested in the whys, but the success of this deal will mean something in the region of a thousand jobs over a five-year period.’

‘What’s that got to do with me?’

‘It’s about protecting my company’s brand. Any negative publicity would send the clients running for the hills, and the story of me sacking a woman because she used my property to host a charity fund-raiser would be the worst-possible PR.’

Trying to think beyond the static buzz in her head, a combination of anger and panic, she only really processed one word in two of what he was saying. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Because you are an innocent.’

How long would her savings last…a month, two…? After that what was she going to do?

‘I really hate you.’ Her snarl was shaky but filled with venom and her eyes gleamed with loathing as she glared up at him. She grabbed at a side table, afraid that her shaking knees were about to give way. This body blow on top of the events of that afternoon had taken a physical as well as mental toll.

‘Calm down. There’s no need to react this way. It’s not as though you enjoy the job.’

Calm down? What planet did this man live on?