Maid for Montero
Hired as his mistress!Zoe Grace is terrible at being housekeeper of the Montero Estate. So bad that she faces being fired after just two weeks! Desperate to keep her job, she’ll do anything to convince her handsome Spanish boss to give her just one more chance… Isandro Montero cannot believe that his new housekeeper is so inept! She has to go – rápido!Except firing beautiful Zoe would ruin his reputation, as she has two young charges to care for. So Isandro will put Zoe where he can keep his eye on her – and maybe his hands… In his bed!‘It’s hard to find the time to write a review for Kim Lawrence when you can never put her books down!’ – Hollie, 37, Exmouth
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Isandroâs gaze lifted from the logo plastered across the tee shirt she was wearing. Not that he had read a word of the inscriptionâthe words had mingled with the mental image of him peeling the shirt over her head.
Surely notâ¦She couldnât beâ¦could she?
No, she couldnât, he decided, clinging to his mental image of the perfect housekeeperâa woman of a certain age with an immovable irongrey helmet of hair and a brisk manner. He didnât expect the new housekeeper to possess all the attributes of her predecessor, but this woman⦠girlâ¦couldnât beâ¦
âThis part of the house isnât open to the public, actually,â Zoe admitted, softening the gentle remonstration with a smile.
Madre di Dios, she was!
âNone of it is, but people keep wanderingâ¦â She heard the sharp note of anxiety that had crept into her own voice and closed her mouth, shaking her head as she smiled brightly and concluded, in her best fasten-your-seat-belt tone, âSo if youâd like to follow meâ¦?â
Would he like to follow herâ¦? Yesâup the sweeping staircase and into his bedroomâ¦
About the Author
KIM LAWRENCE lives on a farm in rural Anglesey. She runs two miles daily and finds this an excellent opportunity to unwind and seek inspiration for her writing! It also helps her keep up with her husband, two active sons, and the various stray animals which have adopted them. Always a fanatical consumer of fiction, she is now equally enthusiastic about writing. She loves a happy ending!
Recent titles by the same author:
THE PETRELLI HEIR
SANTIAGOâS COMMAND
GIANNIâS PRIDE
IN A STORM OF SCANDAL
Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
CHAPTER ONE
SOME MEN IN Isandroâs position would have whined about press intrusion. He didnât. He considered he had little to complain about in life, and he knew it was perfectly possible, even for someone whose financial empire drew the sort of global media attention that his did, to have a private life.
Of course, if his taste had run to falling out of nightclubs in the small hours or the routine attendance of film premieres with scantily clad models, it might have been more difficult, but neither pastime held any appeal for him.
He viewed security as a necessary evil, a side effect of successâlike midges in the Highlandsâbut he was hardly a recluse who lived his life behind ten-feet-high walls.
If he had had a family to consider, possibly he might have seen potential danger lurking around every corner, but he didnât. He only had an ex-wife, with whom he exchanged Christmas cards these days rather than insults, and a father he had very little contact with. Given that he was confident in his ability to look after himself, Isandro was not alarmed when the electronic gates that guarded the entrance to his English estateâwhich did actually have ten-feet-high wallsâdid not swing open as he approached, for they were already open.
Slowing his car, he swept the area with narrow-eyed, irritated speculation. While he didnât automatically assume this suggested anything dark and sinister, it did suggest a carelessness that he did not expect from those who worked for him.
The groove between his dark, strongly defined brows and his level of irritation deepened as his glance lighted on a brightly coloured bunch of balloons attached to an overhanging branch that looked incongruous beside the discreetly tasteful sign that simply read âRavenwood House: Privateâ.
He had owned Ravenwood for three years, and in that time on the admittedly rare occasions he had visited he had never found cause for complaint, which was nothing less than expected. He employed the best, be they corporate executives or gardening staff, paid them extremely well and expected them to earn their salary.
It was not a complicated formula but one that he found worked, and if it didnâtâ¦He was not a man renowned for patience or sentimentality in his professional or personal life. If those in his employ didnât perform to the high standards he expected and deliver the goods they did not remain in his employ.
He opened the window, reached out and caught hold of the string dangling from the balloons. As he tugged two popped on the branches and the rest rose into the air, embracing their freedom. Following their merry progress with his eyes, he frowned before he pulled his head back in. He was not ready to read anything significant into the open gates or the balloons, but there had been a recent staff change, and the housekeeper did play a pivotal role at Ravenwood.
The previous postholder had not only been efficient, but had combined excellent man-management skills with the ability to blend into the background. She had never been obtrusive.
Under her watch he could not imagine open gates, invisible security or balloons. It was always possible none was connected with the new housekeeper, and he kept an open mind on the subject, innocent until proved guilty. No one could say that he wasnât scrupulously fair, and he made allowances for human error.
