Page 11 of His Housekeeper's Twin Baby Confession
She took a deep breath and tried to calm her restlessness. She had to admit that in the space of the last few days she’d tipped over the edge of being acceptably aware of her boss in a way that hadn’t affected her too much, into full-on crush territory.
It was as if a Pandora’s box had opened inside her and four years of repressed emotions and longings were being brought back to life.
It had been a long time since she’d felt like this and it troubled her. Because the last time it had ended in a marriage that had reduced her to a shell of the person she’d been.
She’d had to work hard in the intervening years to try to forgive herself for letting her husband into her life. For trusting him and allowing him to wage upon her a slow and insidious campaign of abuse that had worn her down.
They’d met just after her mother had died, when Carrie had been at her most vulnerable and feeling very alone in the world. Her mother’s death had made her even more acutely aware that her absent father had chosen his own family over her. Her mother had been her rock and her guide, and without her Carrie’s strength had felt very shaky.
Her husband, a master manipulator, had sensed that and exploited it. Carrie knew this wasn’t her fault, and she knew that women even stronger than her had been taken in in similar ways, but the reflex to blame herself for being weak was still strong. Strong enough to let her relish working as a housekeeper for a man whose house was like a fortress, and which had provided her with much needed space and time to heal.
And shehadhealed—on many levels. Perhaps this ridiculous growing desire for her boss should just be taken as a welcome sign that she was ready to open up a part of herself that she’d locked away for a long time.
She’d vowed never to marry again, because she knew she could never trust anyone that much, but she hadn’t ruled out the possibility of a relationship. Companionship. Maybe this fascination with her boss was her body’s way of telling her that she was ready for the next step in her healing. As terrifying as that thought was...
The morning after the party, Massimo answered a call in his home office with a disgruntled-sounding, ‘Yes?’
It was his executive assistant, informing him that one of the guests from the party—a famous model—wanted to know if Massimo had a date for the charity ball at the end of the week, and if not could she offer herself?
Massimo would never cease to be shocked by the ways and means and audacity of women looking to get his attention. He couldn’t even picture the woman in question.
‘No,’ he responded. ‘I do not wish to accept her kind offer of a date.’
‘So you’ll be going solo?’
Massimo stood up and walked over to the window. He was feeling restless. He hadn’t seen Carrie yet that morning. One of the other staff had served him at breakfast. He’d looked for her at the end of the party last night, but one of the events staff had informed him chirpily that she’d gone to bed.
There was no reason for that fact to have irked Massimo so much. Carrie would routinely slip away before the end of a party, once it was largely over and in the capable hands of the events manager. But it had irked him last night.
Impulsively he said, ‘Actually, I already have a date.’
‘You do?’
The incredulity in his assistant’s tone made Massimo scowl. He couldn’t help but be acutely aware that his lack of interest in taking a lover lately had become a fevered source of speculation.
Hence why the plan he was now considering would be the perfect solution. A way to curb the gossips while also proving to himself that this sudden fascination for his housekeeper was an anomaly.
‘Yes, I do,’ he repeated, pushing aside the pricking of his conscience.
He cut off the connection and threw the phone back onto the table behind him. He stuck his hands in his pockets. He couldn’t deny that he was behaving completely out of character, and that this plan would potentially blur the boundaries between him and his housekeeper, but for the first time in his life he chose not to think about the consequences.
‘Would you join me for lunch?’
Carrie’s mouth fell open.
She’d just shown Massimo out onto the terrace, where she’d laid a table for lunch. A light chicken salad and crusty bread. He was looking at her, perfectly composed, as if he hadn’t just asked her a preposterous thing.
‘I...’ She was about to tell a white lie and say that she’d already eaten when something reckless moved through her.Temptation. ‘Okay.’
‘Good.’ He went and sat down.
In a bit of a daze, Carrie got another place setting and went out to the table. There was more than enough food for two. Maybe Massimo was just being practical. He had always erred on the side of discretion and frugality over ostentation. Perhaps in reaction to the lurid and lavish ways of his parents and brother.
Massimo helped himself to a portion of salad and handed her the utensils.
‘Thank you.’
Carrie still felt dazed. What was she doing, sitting at a table with her boss, dressed in her very plain uniform of white shirt and black trousers, flat shoes. Hair pulled back, as always. Minimal make-up.
