She was petite, but the curves of her delectable body were hard not to notice, especially for a guy who hadn’t had sex in years. I’m not quite sure why my cock had suddenly sprung to life and was pressing urgently against the denim of my jeans, but there was something about this female that brought the appendage to attention. It hadn’t happened in a long time, and it caused me to take a second look at her.
The woman was nothing like the chicks I’d dated in my past. She looked like the quintessential “girl next door.” Her expressive face was almost devoid of makeup. The light-blonde hair on her head was obviously confined behind her, but messy escapee locks framed her delicate face. When our gazes finally met, my gut ached like I’d been sucker punched.
Her eyes reminded me of the clear waters of the Caribbean on a perfect day, aquamarine and calm.
Or were they green?
Or were they blue?
It was a no to both answers, but a little of both. If I had to pick, I’d sway more toward blue.
I shook myself out of my stupid thoughts. Holy fuck! What the hell did I care what color this woman’s eyes were? Especially since she was leaving immediately.
“Mr. Sinclair?” she inquired, her husky, confident voice making me harder. It was the kind of sexy voice I wanted to hear screaming my name while she was in the middle of a mind-blowing climax. If I didn’t suspect she was sent to clean my house and cook me food, she could be making a fortune as a phone-sex operator.
“What do you want?” I asked belligerently. I was curious, but not enough to deal with somebody invading my space. I cursed my brothers for sending me a female. Not that I wanted a guy at my door. I actually didn’t want anybody here.
“I’m Sam. Your new housekeeper.”
“You’re not a guy.” It wasn’t a brilliant conclusion, but it was exactly what I was thinking.
She held a hand over her eyes, shielding her face from the sun. “I never claimed to be male,” she said calmly as she brushed by me to enter.
I had wanted to close the door in her face, but she’d been too stealthy. Not to mention the fact that when her body had briefly caressed mine, I’d been momentarily distracted. “You need to go. I told Julian not to send you here. And I sure as hell didn’t know that you were a woman.”
She calmly reached behind me and closed the door. “You’re letting the flies in. Judging by the smell of your house, I think it’s already a breeding ground for bugs.”
“I don’t care. Get. Out,” I told her, my teeth clenched together in irritation.
“Nope. Sorry. I need this job,” she answered as she pulled her suitcase through the foyer and into the family room. “God, you really are a pig.”
Intrigued, I followed her. Not once had she flinched at the nasty scars on my face. I had several, the two worst ones running from my temples and down both of my cheeks. “It doesn’t matter if the place is a mess. You won’t have to clean it up.”
She turned and put her hands on her curvy hips, causing the thin yellow sundress she was wearing to bunch up and show a little more of her bare legs. “I’m staying. I told you I need this job. You can either show me to my room, or I’ll find it myself.”
“Leave,” I said in a graveled, irritated tone.
She lifted an eyebrow. “Make me. What are you going to do? Throw me out on the doorstep? Go ahead. I’ll just sit out there until you let me in. Of course, it’s hot and humid, so I could get dehydrated. But I’m sure you’d call an ambulance once I lost consciousness.”
The woman was challenging me, and I knew it. “I won’t know. I wouldn’t worry about you.”
She wouldn’t really sit on my doorstep, right? I looked her up and down, noticing the determined tilt of her chin and stubborn expression, deciding she just might.
Turning her back on me, she left the family room and wandered around the bottom floor, dragging the suitcase behind her. I didn’t say a word as she explored, the disgusted look on her face saying everything she wanted to say out loud, but didn’t. Finally, she found the elevator to the top floor, stepped into it, then punched one of the buttons.
“Dinner will be at eight o’clock. I need to clean up the kitchen before I cook.”
“You need to leave…”
Before I could tug her out of my elevator and throw her bossy ass outside, the door to the lift whooshed closed.
“Goddammit!” I cursed her curvy blonde ass as I headed toward the stairs.
Maybe Sam the woman had surprised me, but she wasn’t about to best me. It was my house, and I didn’t want her here.
I hightailed it upstairs by taking the stairs, determined to get her out of my home before she even had a chance to see the bedrooms.
I need to get her out of here. I don’t want her around.
If she really thought she was staying, she was delusional.
There wasn’t a damn thing she could say to make me change my mind.
Chapter 3
Samantha
There was a time in my life when I’d loved Xander Sinclair’s music. It had been my solace, my one guilty pleasure. His style had been unique, not quite metal, but expressive rock with some thoughtful ballads thrown into the mix.
His words had reached out and spoken to me when he sang. They’d touched my heart and gotten me through some of my darkest days.
Meeting him now, even several years after he’d recorded his last song, I couldn’t believe the man and his music were so very different.
Shaking my head and longing for the days when Xander had been my hero, I walked into a bedroom, knowing immediately that it was a guest room. Everything was in its place, and it was tidy. Obviously, the owner had spent no time in this space.
Hefting my suitcase onto the bed, I tried to focus on what I needed to accomplish. Before I could get anywhere, I needed to clean up the mess Xander had made of the house. The place looked like a tornado had struck and nobody had ever done cleanup.
If I lived in a house this messy, I’d probably be depressed, too. My mild OCD with having everything organized and tidy might not always be healthy, but there was no way I could live in a place like this. Maybe I had my quirks, but I was well aware of them, and tried to keep them under control.
“I thought I told you to get your ass out of here?”
It wasn’t like I wasn’t expecting him, but Xander’s husky voice still startled me. I knew very well that he was behind me, but I didn’t turn around. I didn’t react. I just started to open the zipper on my suitcase so I could unpack.
“I heard your request,” I admitted. “I’m just not heeding it. You need me. This is a beautiful home, and you’re completely destroying it. Your brother built this house for you. Don’t you want to take care of it?”
He moved closer. “I don’t give a shit. It’s just a place to live,” he growled. There was a hesitation before he asked, “How did you know he built it?”
“I got information from your brothers. I was warned. It’s not like I was sent here blindly. I already knew you were acting like an asshole. I knew what I was getting into. And judging by the state of this house, I deserved to know, and I’ll earn every penny they’re paying me.”
He moved closer, and I could see him cross his arms over his broad chest from the corner of my eye.
“So they told you I’m trying to recover? That I’m a drug addict and an alcoholic?”