Her aunt had three clients who insisted that she handle their housekeeping personally—and were willing to pay extra for that request. Harrell Kelly, Jeremy Simpkins and Donovan Steele. Kelly and Simpkins were professional football players for the Carolina Panthers, and Steele was a successful businessman whose family was well-known in Charlotte. According to her aunt, the three men liked things done a particular way and were determined to protect their privacy. They were her aunt’s exclusive clients.
Until her aunt’s sidelining injury.
Natalie managed a smile hoping he had a sense of humor because she felt the situation needed it. Tossing the covers aside and pulling herself up into a sitting position, she said, “Break’s over. I need to finish this room, which means it’s time for me to get back to work.”
Thankfully, he stepped back as she eased off the bed. However, he crossed his arms over his chest, looked at her intently and asked, “Do you usually take breaks in other people’s beds?”
There was that voice again. Deep, throaty, husky. It was crazy, but she felt as though the sound touched her physically, in some of her most intimate places and in very provocative ways. She wished she could ignore both him and his question as she proceeded to strip the bed. Being handsome was one thing, being over-the-top, teeth-chillingly gorgeous was another. There was no way she could forget he was standing there. He was too overwhelmingly male.
Since she was filling in for her aunt who was home recovering from a broken ankle, this man was technically her employer, and she doubted Aunt Earline would appreciate losing him as a customer. She struck a businesslike tone and said, “No, I don’t usually take breaks in other people’s beds. That was the first. But then I’ve never seen a bed quite like yours before.”
And that was the truth. Although Donovan Steele was probably six-four, with broad shoulders, he wasn’t what she considered big. His bed, however, was huge. There was no doubt in her mind that four people could sleep comfortably in his bed. She could just imagine what a man—a very handsome one at that—did in a bed this size. Whatever he did, she doubted he did it alone.
“Before we get into an in-depth discussion about my bed, don’t you think you should at least tell me who you are, since I know you aren’t my regular cleaning lady?”
Natalie stopped and glanced over at him. Not to do so would have been outright rude. The moment her gaze locked with his, she felt sensations she couldn’t ignore flood her stomach and her heart rate increased. It should be against the law for any man to look so unerringly masculine.
He had chocolate-brown eyes, a chiseled jaw and a sensual mouth on a creamy cocoa complexion. His hair was cut low and neatly trimmed around his head. A pencil-thin mustache on his upper lip gave him a sexy look. He was wearing a pair of jeans and T-shirt with huge letters that said “Forged of Steele.” His scent, the same one that had tempted her to cuddle even more between his sheets, surrounded them.
She inhaled deeply. “I’m Natalie Ford,” she said without extending her hand. The bundle of sheets she held to her chest made it impossible to do so anyway and she was glad. The thought of touching any part of him left her off balance.
“And I’m Donovan Steele.”
She nodded. “I figured as much. My aunt, Earline Darwin, is your regular cleaning lady. She broke her ankle last week, and I’m filling in while she recuperates. She tried reaching you last week, and when she was unable to do so, she left a message on your answering machine letting you know what happened and that I would be her replacement for the next six weeks.”
He kept his gaze fastened to hers as he said, “I left town early Friday morning, and I’m just returning today, so I didn’t get any of my messages.” He paused for a brief second before adding, “That’s mighty kind of you to fill in for your aunt. Will she be okay?”
Natalie was surprised he cared enough to inquire. “Yes, her ankle will be fine as long as she remains off of it for a while. Thanks for asking.”
He leaned against the dresser. “Now I have something else to ask. Would you like to explain why you were in my bed?”
She met his dark eyes. “Like I told you, I’ve never seen a bed like yours before and couldn’t help wondering if it was as soft and comfortable as it looked. Once I sat down on it and saw that it was, I was tempted to slip between the covers, and I must have dozed off. I apologize for doing so. It was very unprofessional of me, and it won’t happen again.”
A look she couldn’t define quickly flashed across his face, and she had a feeling he wasn’t accepting her apology easily. He continued to look at her for a long time with an intensity that made her throat tighten. But then she felt something else with his stare. Direct heat. And it was getting hotter by the second. She tried to recall when, if ever, a man affected her this way.
“I accept your apology, Natalie Ford.”
Natalie blinked, realizing he had spoken. “Thank you, and like I said, it won’t happen again.”
A slow, sexy smile touched the corners of his mouth. “I think that it will. In fact, I’m counting on it.”
It took Natalie a few seconds to recover from the impact of his smile to catch his meaning. When she did, she tilted her head, looked at him and fought the power of his sexuality and the way her body was responding to it. She could tell by the look in his eyes, that deep concentrated stare, that he’d honed in on it too. So, okay, there was chemistry between them. She refused to see it as a big deal. The man evidently was a flirt. “I wouldn’t if I were you, or you’ll be disappointed,” she decided to say.
He lifted his shoulder in a nonchalant shrug at the same time that he shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I won’t be.” An assured smile touched his lips.
For a few timeless moments, their gazes held in a clash of wills. Now she understood Aunt Earline’s warning about him. According to her aunt, the man was a bachelor who had quite a reputation with the ladies. Apparently when it came to what he perceived as an available woman, Donovan Steele believed in equal opportunity regardless of sex, religion, race, national origin or occupation, since for all he knew she was no more than someone who cleaned houses for a living. Definitely not the kind of woman a man of his wealth and stature would mess around with.
It then occurred to her that, yes, a cleaning woman would be just the type of woman a man like him would probably mess around with. Discreetly. Not someone he would get serious about and take home to meet his upscale family. He’d be surprised to learn that she had a Ph.D. in chemical engineering and was a professor at Princeton University.
“So, when can I take you out?”
Donovan’s question intruded into her thoughts. She studied his face and saw the confidence in the dark eyes staring back at her. No doubt because of the women he’d dealt with in the past, he was pretty sure of himself. He probably figured she was an easy lay and with a few sweet words her legs would part like the Red Sea. Boy, was he wrong.
“I won’t be going out with you, Mr. Steele.”
He smiled. “Feel free to call me Donovan, and is there a reason why?”
There were several reasons she could give him, with his blatant arrogance heading the list. “The reason I won’t go out with you is because I work for you, and I’ve learned that mixing business with pleasure isn’t a good idea.”
That response, she thought, sounded more politically correct than what she’d actually wanted to say. “And in addition to that, I’m taking a hiatus from dating for a while,” she tacked on for size.
He tilted his head at an angle that made his stare even more penetrating. And then he did something she hadn’t counted on him doing. He chuckled. But it wasn’t just any old chuckle. It had both a seductive as well as a