by Day Leclaire
“I’m—”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Kate said in a fierce voice. “After all the times you stood by me while I wept over Lance, don’t you dare. You hear me?”
Rebecca managed a watery smile. “I hear.” Behind them, the bells above the door sang a gay greeting and she flinched. “Will you cover for me while I fix my makeup?” she asked in an undertone.
“Of course.” Kate spared a quick glance over her shoulder. “Oh. It’s Alicia Montoya. She and Justin will be tying the knot soon, won’t they? She’s probably here to pick out something for her wedding night.”
“Let’s hope that’s all she’s here for,” Rebecca murmured.
Not waiting for a response, she hastened into the back to the small powder room. She groaned when she looked in the mirror. Black mascara tracks streaked her face and left crescent moons beneath her eyes. She looked like a zebra, her face dead-white in between the black stripes, while her eyes and nose were red and swollen. The downside to being a redhead. Everything showed on her face.
She took her time washing up and reapplying her makeup. Then she loosened the formal knot of hair and allowed the auburn strands to flow loose around her shoulders. Better. If Alicia looked closely, she wouldn’t be able to miss the hint of red that lingered around Rebecca’s eyes. But with luck, it wouldn’t be readily apparent. Taking a deep breath, she exited the powder room and returned to the front section of the store.
Kate and Alicia had their heads together, deliberating between two nightgowns. Kate held the first, a sexy little black number that revealed far more than it concealed. Alicia clutched the second, a deep ruby gown that gave an extra luster to her lovely olive complexion.
“Is this for your wedding night?” Rebecca asked as she joined them.
“Yes, it is.” Alicia gave her a shy smile. “I’ve wanted an excuse to buy lingerie here for a long time.”
Rebecca returned Alicia’s smile with surprising ease, probably because the other woman had a knack for making people feel comfortable. “Yes, I remember you telling me that when you were in here a while back with Cara. But you didn’t have anyone special to wear it for.” She gave a wide smile. “Until now. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” She returned to deliberating between the two choices. “I just can’t decide whether to go full-out sexy with this black one, or more modest with the red.”
“If you’re asking my advice…”
“Yes, please!”
“Go with the red. The black may look sexy, but it’s too blatant for a wedding night. One look and all your secrets are revealed. You want more romance. More mystery. And watch…” She draped the material over Alicia’s arm. The feather-light material clung, while the light seemed to sink into the gown, turning the silk almost transparent against her skin. “Justin will be able to see through the gown just enough to drive him crazy.”
The next hour passed in a flash. Helping Alicia choose lingerie for her wedding and honeymoon proved a delightful distraction. Afterward, while Rebecca rang up the stack of purchases and Alicia looked on with a shell-shocked expression, Kate discussed wedding details.
“Have you decided whether or not you’re holding the wedding at El Diablo?”
“That was our original thought, but after the incident with the barn, Alejandro has changed his mind. We’ve decided to marry at the mission church.”
“Just because of the fire?” Kate asked in concern. “Is he worried about another incident?”
“Not since Darius installed security. But after the fire, Alejandro’s housekeeper quit and he’s had a terrible time finding a replacement.” Alicia shrugged. “It just made more sense to switch the venue to the church. Besides, it’s a beautiful old place, all stone and timber. And we’ve decided to have the ceremony on Christmas Eve after Eucharist.”
“I can’t think of anything more perfect,” Rebecca said with all sincerity.
She finished ringing up Alicia’s purchases, then wrapped them in tissue and placed the lingerie in a series of elegant boxes. But all the while her brain spun in circles, replaying that one sentence over and over again. Alejandro’s housekeeper quit and he’s had a terrible time finding a replacement. An idea formed. A crazy, impulsive, outrageous idea.
The minute Alicia left the shop, Rebecca turned to Kate. “I know the perfect person for Alex’s housekeeper. And the best part about it is that it will kill two birds with one stone.”
Kate stared in utter bewilderment. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“Not what. Who.”
“Okay, I’ll bite.” Kate smiled indulgently. “Who would be the perfect person for Alex to hire as his housekeeper?”
“Me.”
Six
A lex tucked his hammer into his tool belt. Stepping back from the barn, he settled his Stetson more firmly on his head to shade his eyes from the late-afternoon sun and stared up at the towering structure. Almost done. Soon, no one would ever know there had been a fire here.
He always found hard physical labor satisfying. It also had the added benefit of easing some of the pent-up anger and frustration from his encounters with Huntington and Rodriquez. The temptation to allow the two men to destroy one another was overwhelming. He’d actually consider it, except for one thing.
Rebecca.
Desire continued to rip through him after his latest encounter with her. He’d hoped that working on his barn would ease it. Instead, a bone-deep hunger gnawed at him, warning that this wasn’t an emotion he could expunge from his system through sweat and determination. It would require far more than that. Even so, his labors had clarified one thing.
Sebastian Huntington would pay for what he’d done. And Rebecca was going to end up back in his bed—but not in order to settle her father’s debt.
“You’ve got company,” one of his hands said, inclining his head toward the gravel drive.
Sure enough, a faint plume of dust rose in the distance. A few minutes later, a sporty convertible pulled into the sweeping circle fronting the ranch house. It didn’t take much guesswork to figure out who sat behind the steering wheel.
He took his time joining Rebecca. She stood with casual elegance beside the door of her Cabriolet and waited him out. She wore a sexy little dress in a stunning bronze that made the most of her figure and showcased a pair of legs that were among the prettiest he’d ever seen. The setting sun caught in her hair, turning the rich red to a halo of vibrant color around her face. She wasn’t wearing sunglasses and the vividness of her green eyes hit like a shock as he approached. She stared at him, as proud and indomitable and self-assured as ever. Well, that made two of them, both too headstrong for their own good.
He shoved his Stetson to the back of his head. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what are you doing here, Becca?”
She straightened, facing him with a determination that made him instantly wary. “I’ve come to solve two of our most pressing problems.”
Hell. “If this is about your father—”
“It’s about my father’s debt, to be exact.”
“By all means, let’s be exact.”
He might as well have saved the sarcasm. She brushed it aside the way she would a pesky mosquito. “Alicia came into my shop today and mentioned that you’ve been without a housekeeper ever since the fire.”
He took the odd turn of conversation in stride, merely folding his arms across his chest and cocking an eyebrow. “So?”
“So, you’ll be relieved to know that won’t be an issue any longer.”
The comment caught him by surprise. In order to give himself time, he stripped off his gloves and hooked them in his belt. Then he leveled the playing field by closing the short distance between them and tipping her face up to his. “What are you up to, dulzura?”
If he hadn’t been near enough to see the hint of alarm flashing through her gaze or to hear the slight hitch in her breathing, he’d have thought her unaffected by his touch. “Meet your new h
ousekeeper,” she informed him. “I’ll accept whatever wages you were paying your former live-in and I’ll stay until my father’s debt is paid off.”
He couldn’t help himself. His mouth twitched into a broad smile. “You’re joking.”
She pulled free of his grasp and reached inside the car to push the trunk release. “I’m also giving you my car. That should put a small dent in what’s owed. I bought an old pickup as a replacement since I’ll still need to get to the boutique.” She circled to the rear of the car and wrestled the first suitcase free, dumping it on the gravel drive. “I’m afraid I’ll have to spend part of each day at Sweet Nothings, but my assistant is well-trained and I can arrange my hours to suit your convenience. I’ll also get up early to take care of the main housekeeping duties and then finish them off after work and whenever the store is closed.”
“Enough, Rebecca,” he insisted with a hint of impatience. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not amused.”
She whipped around with a ferocity that shocked him. “This isn’t a game. Nor is it funny. In fact, I find nothing about the events of the last twenty-four hours the least bit amusing.”
“I’m not hiring you.”
She must have anticipated that small hurdle, because she had her counterargument already lined up. “You won’t be able to resist, Alex. Just think how delicious it’ll be, telling everyone that Rebecca Huntington is your new housekeeper. Where once your mother was housekeeper to the Huntingtons, now the last of the Huntingtons is housekeeper to you.” Turning her back on him, she hauled out the rest of her possessions, stacking them neatly on the ground. “Now, if you’ll show me to my quarters and give me a rough idea of my duties, I’ll get some dinner on the table for you.”
She bent to gather up the first load and he snatched the suitcases from her hands. Son of a bitch! They weighed a ton. What the hell had she filled them with, rocks? “You’re not staying, and you damn well aren’t going to play at being my new housekeeper.”
She stepped in front of him to prevent him from returning her suitcases to her trunk. “I intend to pay off my father’s debt one way or another. I’m going to hand over every spare penny from the shop and work the rest of it off here, Montoya, one day at a time, until the debt is paid in full.”
“That’s Mr. Montoya,” he shot back. “My employees address me as Mister or Señor, or even Alex. But they all address me with the proper respect or they find a job elsewhere.”
She inclined her head with a dignity and grace that was an innate part of her. The fact that it also filled him with a bizarre combination of pride and desire left him at a loss for words. “You’re right. I apologize, Mr. Montoya.”
He swore in Spanish. “This is ridiculous.” She’d realize just how ridiculous if she knew the full extent of the debt. “I can’t have you working for me, Becca. You must see how it’ll look. What people will say?”
“Let them talk,” she retorted fiercely. “They’re going to, no matter what I do. As you’ve already pointed out, my reputation is in tatters. And I don’t see how my presence can possibly hurt yours.”
Didn’t she get it? He spelled it out for her. “People will say you’re my mistress, not my housekeeper.”
Her eyes blazed like emeralds. “But I’ll know the truth. My friends will know the truth. You’ll know the truth. As far as I’m concerned, that’s all that matters.”
He hesitated.
When Rodriquez had left the previous night, he’d been furious. He’d also been determined to make Rebecca his. At Huntington Manor, she was vulnerable. Here, where he could keep an eye on her, she’d be safe, or reasonably so. Granted, she’d still have to go into town each day and work at her shop. But he didn’t think even Paulo would have the nerve to do anything to her in broad daylight within the confines of a busy store. And wasn’t her safety paramount?
As a rationalization, it barely passed muster. But he couldn’t quite get past the image of Paulo’s face when he’d spoken about Rebecca. There’d been no mistaking the man’s intentions, just as there was no mistaking one simple fact.
Alex would do anything to keep Rebecca out of Paulo’s hands.
He gave it two full seconds of careful consideration. “Fine. You’re hired.”
She didn’t bother to conceal her triumph, though that would be short-lived. The minute he explained the full extent of her duties, he expected her to pack up her overstuffed suitcases, chuck them into the trunk of her car and scurry off down the road as fast as her fancy little sports job would take her.
When she reached the steps leading to the front door, she paused and he caught the first hint of vulnerability. She turned toward him. “Maybe we should start the way we intend to go on,” she said.
“What are you talking about?” He shot her an impatient look. “Could we move this along? These suitcases aren’t getting any lighter.”
“I’m your housekeeper, Alex.” She gave a quick shake of her head. “I mean, Mr. Montoya.”
“Alex,” he said sharply.
“Housekeepers don’t usually enter through the front door,” she pointed out. “Your mother never did. Not after the day you first arrived.”
“Oh, for the love of—” He tromped up the steps, juggled the suitcases and managed to drop one on his toe. He practically kicked open the door. “In,” he ordered.
Beside him, Rebecca opened her mouth again, no doubt to argue some more. “But—”
“Madre de Dios! You don’t have the first clue how to be an obedient, respectful employee, do you? Is it your intention to argue over every single request I make?”
She stared at him, stricken. Then a hint of laughter crept into her eyes and her lips quivered into a full-blown smile. “Not if they’re requests.”
He dropped her suitcases in the foyer and succeeded in avoiding his toes this time. He slammed the door shut, sealing them in the dusky interior. Without a word, he swept Rebecca into his arms, intent on proving to her in the simplest, most straightforward manner available the sheer insanity of her idea.
“You know what they’ll call you, don’t you?” he warned.
She didn’t struggle. Nor did she sink against him. “I believe you said I’d be labeled the daughter of a thief.”
“Now they’ll call you Diablo’s mistress.”
She met the ferocity of his gaze with surprising equanimity. “We’ll know the truth.”
“And what truth is that?”
She stood within the warmth of his embrace, their heated breaths mingling, their hearts beating as one, and said, “That I’m just your housekeeper, nothing more.”
He took her words as a challenge. And then he took her mouth, intent on proving her wrong. This was a mistake, Alex conceded an instant later. Rebecca had only been in his home for thirty seconds and already he had his hands on her. Hell, all over her. He was practically eating her alive. Not that she resisted. She should have slapped him. Instead, she slipped her fingers into his wind-ruffled hair, knocking his Stetson to the parquet floor, and secured him in place so that their mouths melded, one to the other.
He couldn’t get over the flavor of her, the delicious appeal that was so distinctly hers. His hands swept downward, sliding over territory he’d spent bitter, lonely years dreaming about. The shape of her had changed since those long-ago days. Subtle changes that had transformed the girl he’d once known into the woman he now held.
Her breasts still filled his palms, but her body had grown leaner, more honed and better defined. Her hips flared beneath the narrowest of waists and her backside had just the perfect amount of curve to it. He wanted to slip his hand beneath her skirt and discover whether she wore another sampling of the sweet nothings that gave her lingerie shop its distinctive name. Sultry black bits of nothing or maybe siren-red. Perhaps she’d chosen the same sort of dainty ivory scraps of sweetness he’d seen before. Silk and lace that melted against her creamy skin and set off the blazing nest of curls between her thighs.
<
br /> The image his brain created threatened to unman him. He didn’t want to take her here in his foyer, though if they didn’t find a suitable arena for their activities, that was precisely what would happen. More than anything, he wanted to carry her to his room and spread her across his bed while he stripped her down to those delicate morsels of feminine finery and find out just what color she’d chosen to wear today.
Intent on turning thought into deed, he eased back in order to sweep her into his arms. Instead, he gave her just enough breathing room to come to her senses. With an exclamation of disbelief, she ripped free of his embrace.
It took her a moment to regain her breath enough to speak. “This has got to stop,” she informed him. “I’ll be your housekeeper and do the best job I know how. And I’ll even deal with any gossip that occurs as a result. But I’m damned if I’ll become your mistress in anything more than imagination.”
“Too late, dulzura. We’re both damned already.” He leaned in. “And you will become my mistress. It’s only a matter of when.”
God help him, but she was beautiful, especially when angry. She glared at him with those witch-green eyes. The deep, lustrous red of her hair spilled around her face, emphasizing the creaminess of her skin and underscoring the flush that rode the sweeping arch of her aristocratic cheekbones.
“If you’ll show me to my room?” she asked in her best lady-of-the-manor voice. “I’d like to unpack before I start dinner.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said in his driest tone. “This way.”
He headed for the back of the sizable ranch house. Near the kitchen, he opened the door to the suite of rooms that had belonged to his former housekeeper. He carried her suitcases through to the bedroom and set them on the floor near the bed. He glanced up in time to see an odd look on her face.
