She ran a shaky hand through her silken locks. The coffee shop was her domain, she felt in control there. But here, in his private man cave, he was the master and she felt as though she was in his thrall. A warmth spread through her and she felt her cheeks grow warm just as a soft throbbing between her legs caught her attention. Oh, this was a bad idea.
His dark eyes met hers sending a shiver down her spine and causing the throbbing between her legs to intensify. A devious smile touched his lips, as if he knew where her mind had led her while he motioned to the chair in front of him. She exhaled loudly, just then realizing that she'd been holding her breath.
Doing as instructed she sat in the chair indicated, crossing on leg over the other and sitting up straight, shoulders squared. "Hi." That was the best she could come up with, no other words seemed to come to her at that moment.
His grin widened. "Hi."
So you have me here Mr Reynolds now what are you going to do with me? The way that her body was responding to his presence she knew, without a doubt what she'd like him to do with her. Stop it Beth, you're here for an interview. That's all, she scolded herself silently.
Uncrossing his arms, he lowered them and grasped the edge of the desk, as he continued to recline back on it. "So let's get down to it. We've established that you can't cook..."
"Well, I... Ummmm," she shrugged and gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm willing to learn."
Laughing, Gabriel nodded. "Fair enough. I'm willing to give you a little grace period to get up to speed. What I'm in need of is a live-in cook and housekeeper."
"Live here?" She blue eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped in disbelief. He couldn't be serious. In this house? With him?
Chapter 2
Cocking his head to the side Gabriel arched a brow at her, amused. "Well, that would be what the term live-in implies. You'd be paid well. Your pay will increase when your culinary skills improve. We can heckle about the pay later. In addition, you'll receive room and board. I'm assuming when you said the extent of your cooking skills stopped at..." he chuckled and cleared his throat, "mac and cheese you weren't understating."
Embarrassed, Beth shook her head. "Afraid not. It's really good though."
"No doubt."
Taking a deep breath in, she exhaled slowly. "With all due respect, I have a feeling you can well afford a real chef, one who knows how to cook and do what you need them to. Why me?"
"Fair question." He clucked his tongue off the roof of his mouth as he eyed her. "The thing is that when I say live-in, it means just that and to be honest I'm a fairly hard man to live with."
Beth grinned, she had a hard time believing that. "But this is a rather large house," she countered.
"Okay, let me rephrase then. I want someone who I think I'll enjoy having around," his gaze caught hers and once again she felt a familiar pleasurable chill rush down her spine and the throbbing between her legs that that had just begun to die down resumed in full force.
Enjoy how? Oh-my-God, don't be silly. He certainly doesn't have to hire someone for sex! Maybe he just wants a cook, housekeeper and someone to shoot the shit with from time to time, nothing more and nothing less. But the heat in his gaze told her otherwise. His gaze told her, he wanted her. She'd felt it in the coffee shop and she was feeling it now, more intensely than ever before because there was no counter to use as a buffer between them.
But what if she was mistaken? What if by taking this job, she'd be forced to endure seeing him bring home a parade of snotty model type women. She growled at herself. This was a job, nothing more or less. Who he brought home would be none of her concern.
"So what happened to your former cook-slash-housekeeper?"
"She has moved on."
"And what other duties would this include?"
His eyes continued to gaze onto hers. Damn, she hated, but at the same time loved how he was making her feel. Could she work for someone who made her feel this way? She didn't know.
"Well, the cooking is the primary thing. Breakfast would be required to be prepared and served at 7am sharp every morning. And you are expected to be here and have an acceptable dinner on the table when I come home during the week. On the weekend I expect three meals. In addition, laundry, shopping and cleaning throughout the day. Whatever requires doing - more or less. I do have people come in and take care of the floors, windows, pool twice a week, so virtually everything having to do with the household upkeep would be under your command. And like I say, I require you to be on call 24/7. No exceptions."
"Sounds like you're looking for a wife to me," she joked.
His soft smile faded and his expression went blank. Beth gasped her eyes wide in horror as soon at the words that came from her mouth. Why did she keep doing that? Filter. Beth. Filter, she scolded herself. "I'm so sorry. I never meant. I was jo-"
"Now if you were to fulfill the duties of my wife, then I assure you I'd be expecting more than simple cooking and cleaning." His voice took on a deep, husky sound that made her wish she was bold enough to volunteer for the "extras."
Running a nervous hand through her hair she couldn't bear to meet his heated gaze. Instead she focused on an abstract painting just over his left shoulder.
"So would you like to see the kitchen and the room that would be yours before we discuss money and you make a decision either way?"
She gulped down the lump forming in her throat and nodded. "Yes please."
****
She was a cheeky little thing. And he liked it, perhaps too much. He'd asked himself a number of times during the course of the day if offering her a job and having her live with him was such a good idea. While he'd led her to believe that the previous housekeeper had lived at the house, that hadn't actually been the case. Beth was the first employee that he'd opened his home to. It was partially because of her apparent financial issues, but mostly because there was something about her that had him captivated. And if he were to be brutally honest with himself, the house felt too big for him. He wanted the companionship of a woman without necessarily the relationship.
One of the highlights of each of his - frequently frustratingly - long days was the sweet smile she'd present him with when he arrived at the coffee shop and the causal flirting that would transpire between them while he was there. He liked that she remembered what he liked and things he'd said. She seemed like such a genuine person, unlike the women he'd dated in the past. Yes, she'd managed to get under his skin and so he wanted her near him, at least until he could sort out his feelings towards her.