Maid for the Single Dad. SUSAN MEIER

of the room without waiting for her reply and Ellie leaned against the counter with a sigh of relief.

      Day one down!

      After clearing the dining room and popping the dishes into the dishwasher, Ellie went to her room.

      She wouldn’t mind a swim, but she hadn’t brought a suit. Plus, she needed to get up early the next morning. She set her alarm for four, so that she’d be ready for Lacy whatever time she awoke, then did a quick pirouette in the massive bedroom she’d be staying in for the next month. Her boss’s life might be a bit of a mystery. She might wonder what happened to the kids’ mom. And she absolutely had to get better at cooking. But spending a month in this suite could almost make up for that. It was the lap of luxury.

      Running her hand up one of the black posts of the four-poster bed, she noticed the gold decorative rings at the top and sighed dreamily. What must it be like to have so much money that you could have everything you wanted, exactly as you wanted it?

      Lifting her makeup bag from the black mirrored dresser, she turned and walked into the bathroom. Again, she stopped and stared in awe. Brown travertine tiles on the floor matched the brown tiles in the shower and surrounding the spa tub. This bathroom was as big as the kitchen in her and her roommate Mitzi’s apartment.

      She set the makeup case on the counter of the double sink with black-and-gold granite countertops, then stripped to make good use of the spa tub. After a nice long soak, she stepped into lightweight pajamas, applied face cream and crawled into bed with a book. Cool silk sheets greeted her and she groaned. There was a definite difference between cleaning someone’s house once a week and staying in that house—even if it was as hired help. She certainly hoped she didn’t get used to this!

      She read until about ten, then turned out the light of the brushed gold lamp on the bedside table and immediately fell asleep.

      What seemed like only minutes later Henry’s loud crying woke her. Slightly disoriented, she bolted up in bed, wondering what the sound was. But the second burst of crying brought her to full alertness and got her to her feet.

      “Henry!” she cried, not even sure if the little boy could hear her. “I’m coming, sweetie!”

      Intending to change his diaper and take him downstairs while she warmed a bottle, she ran into the room. As her door opened on the left side of the nursery, Mac’s door on the right side of the nursery also opened. Both flew into the room and stopped dead in their tracks.

      Her pajamas, though lightweight, were covering. His chest was bare above low-riding bottoms. His dark hair was mussed. His eyelids drooped sexily and his brilliant blue eyes were glazed over. He had the sleepy look of a man who cuddled after sex.