It’s getting dark in the stables. The orange glow of the lights creates an intimate atmosphere as I cast glances over to him as I work. He is unsaddling his horse. Brushing her down with swift, easy strokes. Damn, he has a nice ass in those perfectly fitteddenim jeans. And I get caught watching the muscles in his back and shoulders, stretch and contract under his t-shirt. The man has nice arms. Muscular. Toned and tanned.
I have to rip my gaze away, reminding myself that I have no business perving on a billionaire. We are from such different worlds it is crazy funny. But when I next glance up again, it is to see him watching me. He looks away but I wonder what he thinks of me as I shovel shit. Probably thinking I look good in the muck. Nothing like the fancy women he is used to. Women who probably swan around in ball gowns. And I don’t even own a dress.
Whatever. Done with the job, I put the pitchfork back in its place and make my way back up to the house to wash up. Telling myself I don’t give a damn what the sexy hot billionaire thinks about me.
Later, up in the house, I’m in the kitchen when he walks in. I watch his long, confident stride as he crosses the space towards me.
“What is for dinner?”
I don’t look up. “I was hired as a maid, not a house keeper. I don’t cook but I’m making myself a cheese sandwich if you want one?”
He comes around next to me. “Is that it? You’re doing that wrong, the cheese is too thin.”
I ignore him. And the way my heart rate increases at how close he is standing next to me.
“Here, move over, I’ll make them.” He sounds gruff, but I’m happy to give over the job to him. I walk around to the other side of the kitchen counter and take a seat on one of the stools there.Watching in fascination as he gets a frying pan heating up, cuts up butter, onion and garlic, all as if it’s no effort at all.
“Who taught you to cook?” I ask.
“Surprised I know how to look after myself?” He asks the question with an arrogant lift of one brow. He waits for an answer but I just shrug.
“My mother thought it was important that her boys know how to cook.” He pauses, and then finishes with a smile. “So she had the housekeeper teach us.”
I snort and shake my head. I try to imagine this man in front of me as a small boy but I just can’t do it, pretty sure he was born a small arrogant billionaire and then just got taller.
“Are your family coming here for Christmas?” I ask.
“No. We don’t really do Christmas.”
“That’s sad. Christmas is all about family. At the motel where I work, we put up decorations and all of us staff would have a Christmas party. Food and gifts.”
He is placing the cheese sandwiches in the pan, but glances up as he asks, “You don’t have family?”
I look away. He doesn’t need to know that once upon a time I had a happy family. But when we lost the farm it drove dad to drink, mom left, we all drifted apart.
To Heath, I say, “I have my friends. Those of us who don’t have kids or family will get together on Christmas eve and have dinner.”
A moment later Heath puts a plate in front of me with a delicious looking toasted cheese sandwich, bread golden brown and seasoned. It smells wonderful. He stands on the other side of the counter and takes a big, manly bite. There is something oh so sexy about the way he digs into his toastie. For a brief momentthe billionaire is gone and he is all cowboy with a sexy, satisfied grin as he enjoys his food.
To get my mind off Heath’s mouth, I look around. “You know, this place would look so good done up for Christmas. A tree over there by the fireplace. And garlands hung up on the staircase. A few fairy lights would make this place look amazing.”
Heath holds my gaze for a beat, watching as I take a bite of the sandwich he made. A bit of oil runs down my chin and I wipe it away, sucking the oil off my fingertip. Heath’s gaze narrows, his eyes darken.
In that moment, looking into each other’s eyes, the world seems to stop, the air is still. All I can hear is my heart racing.
Heath looks away. “Do what you want.”
He drops his plate in the sink, turns on his heel and leaves. Taking the stairs two at a time he disappears. I’m left there wondering what the heck just passed between us. By the time my heart rate returns to normal I have myself convinced he must have been appalled by my manners and had to leave.
Chapter 4
Heath
Damn her and her sexy lips. How am I meant to be around the girl when watching her eat a toasted sandwich makes me want to jump over the counter and kiss her? I’ve obviously been out of action for far too long. But there is something about Zoey that fires my blood.
I don’t know if it’s those soulful big, brown eyes, her sexy smiles or her stubborn attitude, but I think it is best that I avoid her for the rest of the week.
Easier said than done when the girl keeps popping up everywhere. She was there bright and early this morning, following me out to feed the chickens, laughing at the crazy goats.
