The Erotic Secrets of a French Maid Read Online Free

The Erotic Secrets of a French Maid
Book: The Erotic Secrets of a French Maid Read Online Free
Author: Lisa Cach
Tags: Fiction, General, Erótica, Romance, Contemporary
Pages:
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swatted them to the ground one after the other until she gave up. She'd probably thought him a grumpy tight-ass, instead of what he really was: a geeky guy who'd never learned to relax around an attractive woman.
    Emma Mayson was young and beautiful and socially at ease, and completely out of his range. She probably went to nightclubs and... and ... whatever people her age and type did with their free time. He'd never moved in socially active crowds. Social activists, yes. But no dance-till-dawn club hoppers. Emma and he probably didn't have a thing in common.
    He pulled her business card out of his wallet, absently running his finger up and down the edge. He could call her right now and pass on Kevin's request.
    The imaginary conversation flowed through his head. Him, awkward and embarrassed to be playing high school go-between. Her, uncomfortable being put on the spot, forced to decide whether or not to reject a man she'd met for only a moment, and not sure if her decision would impact her job at Russ's house.
    He tossed the card on his desk; he couldn't think about it now.
    He spun around to stare out the windows. Instead of passing motorboats, however, it was Emma Mayson he saw, pulling the sheets off his bed and examining them for signs of "activities."
    Yikes! Appeasing his sister was one thing. Beautiful young women washing his underwear was another.
    He had to put an end to it right now.
    He reached for the phone and quickly dialed Emma's cell number, hoping she'd pick up before he could think twice, since the second thoughts were already creeping in— Pamela's disappointed face gazing sad-eyed at him. On the fifth ring, Emma's breathless voice answered.
    "Hello?"
    "Emma? This is Russ Carrick."
    "Oh, hi! I was wondering who it could be. The caller ID said 'TrackingTech.'"
    "Yes, that's my company."
    "What do you track? Stolen cars? Wild animals with radio collars?"
    "Nothing so exciting. We design software for tracking inventory."
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    "Oh."
    Oh,
    she'd said. Oh, how boring. "You'd be surprised how big an industry it is. Everything from apples to the chemicals used in producing drugs has to be tracked by companies."
    "Oh!" she said again, and he could hear her effort to sound fascinated.
    He pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, shutting his eyes against the embarrassment of trying to impress her with inventory software. "Yes, well, the reason I'm calling—"
    "You're taking me up on my offer to cook for you?" she said, hope and excitement in her voice.
    "No, I uh ..." Christ, firing someone was always so hard.
    "Oh." A world of disappointment in that one sound. She didn't say anything more, the soft crackling of the cell connection filling the space between them.
    Ah, dammit. She probably needed this job. He sighed.
    "Yes?" she said timidly.
    He rubbed his face. It wouldn't kill him to let her clean his bathroom for a month or two—he'd just be sure to clean it himself, first, so there wasn't anything embarrassing for her to find. "I'm, er... calling about Kevin, the man you met at my house. The one with the Jaguar."
    "Oh?"
    He smiled. Who knew that one vowel sound could convey so many different things? "This is awkward.
    He asked for your phone number."
    There was a short silence, and then she said warily, "I'm assuming by your tone that he didn't want it in order to hire me."
    "No."
    "Ah."
    "How about I give you his number, and you can call or not as you please? There's no need for you to give me any sort of answer."
    "No, let's not do that," she said.
    Conflicting emotions tumbled through his chest. Glee that she would not be dating Kevin, and embarrassment and a twinge of pain on Kevin's behalf.
    Her tone turned brisk. "If he wants to ask me out, he should do it himself. None of this junior high 'he said, she said' nonsense, and I'm certainly not going to call him for a date. Go ahead and give him my number."
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