Page 3 of Good Girls Like it Dirty
What would he ever see in a twenty-five-year-old foreigner who was a far cry from his age-appropriate, classy, soon-to-be ex-wife? Even though Miss Ashley was a mega-bitch, guys like him mostly saw her good side.
She stepped into the ginormous living area and plastered on a smile as she held the plate with quiet dignity. She’d enrolled in an intensive English course, and she still had two months left in her American adventure before she had to ace a proficiency test in English. She wanted to fulfill her longtime dream of teaching children with a renowned organization in Africa, but to qualify she needed high marks on said exam. She’d worked in France as a kindergarten teacher and also moonlighted as a barista for two years to save enough money to come to Los Angeles and support herself for six months. Besides, a friend of hers had lined up a job as a live-in nanny. Unfortunately, the deal had fallen through the week she left France, but she decided to go anyway. So, yeah, living in Los Angeles cost a lot more than she’d anticipated. To make ends meet, she’d taken any illegal gig she could land, spared every penny she managed, and lived frugally.
“Monique.” Paula gestured from feet away, shaking those annoying bangles. “Here.”
Monique headed to the small group of impeccably dressed people gathered around the owner of the house. Doug, Paula’s husband, was telling a story and most of them paid attention to him, while a couple of guests grabbed canapés and mouthed “thank you.”
“This is Monique, our cleaning gal. The one I told you about. She’s phenomenal,” Paula said, and just then Monique realized she’d been talking to a slinky Asian woman. “You have to try her, Lee.”
Frustration beat at the base of her throat. Sure, Paula’s heart was in the right place, but why not introduce her like a human being instead of talking about her like she was an appetizer? Like I’m not as good as them. The bitter thought cloaked her like black smoke, but she willed it away. No one treated her that way anymore.
“Do you have a card?” Lee asked, and her eyes seemed to carry a touch of apology.
“I’ll text you her info,” Paula said before Monique could reply.
Monique’s eyes started to roll, but she caught herself in time. I better get good tips for this. “It’s been a pleasure, madam.” Monique offered her a diplomatic nod.
“Thanks, I’ll be in touch. Love your accent by the way,” Lee said.
“Isn’t she a doll?” Paula said, butting in. “Feel free to walk around, Monique.” Paula gestured, reminding Monique of her place. Monique again fought the need to roll her eyes. Snotty people reminded her of the father she’d lost to a new family—who’d used her modest upbringing as a weapon.
Sighing, she skimmed the living area. Some guests sat on either side of the L-shaped sofas while others stood. Soothing bossa nova music played in the background, and Monique wished she’d feel more serene.
She circled between people, and the tray was almost empty when she heard a deep masculine voice behind her. “Monique?”
The little hairs at the back of her neck stood on end. Drawing in a breath, she turned on her heel to meet the man who had the power to send her hormones into overdrive with one single word.
Dressed in a long-sleeved black shirt with an open collar and dark denim jeans, Zaine looked as hot as ever. He regarded her with a special interest; specks of silver flickered around his sultry brown irises.
“Fancy meeting you here, Monsieur Zaine,” she said, though she should have guessed he would be attending. Zaine and Doug were friends, and Paula had been the one who recommended her cleaning services to Ashley. “Care for an appetizer?” she asked, wishing her voice didn’t tremble at the end.
“No thanks,” he said, inching closer. He stared deep into her eyes, causing butterflies to cartwheel in her stomach. “I already had quite the appetizer earlier,” he said in a low tone.
What would have happened if she had accepted his offer? If she had screwed him then? Behave, Monique, behave. No good ever came from listening to her impulses.
Goose bumps covered her flesh, and she clamped her lips to suppress a moan. What if she followed her carnal instinct to give herself to him… Just once? She wanted to give in to the insatiable need sitting heavy on her chest and tingling in her breasts. Oh, how she wanted him. But she didn’t dare. At least not here. “Then you should stick around for the full meal. It’ll be served later.”
Desire glinted in his eyes. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
She squared her shoulders, desperate to sound calm and collected. “Great. I heard the chef is amazing. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
Zaine gripped her elbow, making her look at him square in the eye. Every part of her throbbed for him, her blood pumping hard and thick in her veins. His gaze darted to her eyes, then dropped down her mouth. She sucked in her breath.
“What if I’m starving and don’t feel like waiting?” he said in a sexy, growly voice.
