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Rising to his feet, he put on a robe and left the well-kept bedroom. He went out to the veranda. He looked down at the garden and the Bosphorus beyond. In a short time, she’d turned this neglected mansion into an exquisite home.
His hands gripped the wrought-iron balcony railing. And now, because of his lust, he would lose her—his most prized employee!
He glanced back at the beautiful woman sleeping in his bed. He had to find a way to return to a simple relationship of boss and employee. But he wasn’t sure he could.
From the moment he’d first interviewed her in Paris for the head housekeeper position, he’d been intrigued by her—this pretty young woman who went to some lengths to appear plain, wearing black cat’s-eye glasses and oversize, unflattering clothes, pulling her chestnut hair back into a tight bun from which no tendril could hope to escape. She’d left her first position in the household of a financier in Miami, at a very good rate of pay, because apparently she wished to see Europe.
“You will be allowed no vacations,” he’d told her at that first interview. “I need a house manager who will have no other desires other than to smoothly and perfectly run my home.”
He’d waited for Miss Louisa Grey, a modern young woman, to tell him he was out of his mind with such expectations and to leave his office; instead, she’d just looked up at him with her cool brown eyes.
“Of course.”
“I don’t think you understand,” he’d said evenly. “You won’t be able to leave. Not for vacations. Not for Christmas. And do not think I will eventually transfer you to New York. I like stability in my home life. If you start in Paris you will stay here.”
“Fine,” she’d repeated, frowning up at him with her brow furrowed.
“Fine?” he barked.
“I do not need to go back home.”
He’d lifted his eyebrows in disbelief. “Never?”
“Correct. For…for reasons of my own which I do not care to explain.” She lifted her chin. “I will do excellent work for you, Mr. Cruz.”
And she had.
Efficient, dedicated Miss Grey had never taken a day off. Never asked for a vacation. Never complained. She’d never asked for a transfer.
Until he’d seduced her.
For the first few years she’d been his housekeeper, she’d acted as if she could barely distinguish Rafael from an intemperate child to be tolerated and tended. Gradually he’d taken it as a challenge. He’d coaxed her out of her shell in the evenings, as he’d eaten a late supper in the kitchen. He’d gradually lured Louisa’s warm heart out from beneath her dignified reserve. It had been an amusement. Even—a friendship.
Until he’d seduced her.
He cursed himself again under his breath.
She wasn’t just his valued housekeeper, she was the extremely competent manager who coordinated between all his homes in New York, St. Barts, Buenos Aires, Istanbul and Tokyo.
And this would be the end of it. Qué fastidio! Now that he’d slept with her twice, it would end badly—as it always did. She would cease to be sensible, useful Miss Grey and become a woman without a shred of reason in her head. She’d be clingy to her fingertips.
Or would she?
Louisa Grey, clingy? The thought was almost laughable. She was so different from all other women. Was it possible, then, that their affair could be different as well?
He still wanted her. Was it possible she could be that legendary creature—a reasonable woman—and they could continue their affair until he was satisfied? Could they enjoy the passion of a love affair—then simply return to their regular lives that were already so convenient and perfect, as employer and employee?
He ached for her as he did for no other woman. A few days and he’d certainly be done with her. That’s how all of his affairs ended. If he could just enjoy her in his bed for just a few more days…
“Good morning,” he heard her say behind him.
He turned to face her and sucked in his breath.
Louisa stood on the veranda wearing his white oversize robe. The pink sunrise dawning over the minarets of the east brought such beauty to her face. Her smile was quiet and resolute.
He’d never seen anyone more beautiful, with so much sweetness and dignity. She was the most intriguing woman he’d ever met. No woman came close, he realized. Even now, remembering how he’d taken her the night before, he was throbbing with need for her. He wanted to lift her up in his arms, drag her back into his bedroom and throw her on the bed. He wanted to take her again and again, fast and hard, until he’d had his fill.
“Come away with me,” he said abruptly.
