Melissa James

His Housekeeper Bride


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work on me, bro. I’ve shared a room with you, punched you up, stood beside you when the football jocks attacked us, and covered up for you when you and Chloe did midnight flits to invent something.’

      Glenn laughed again, and agreed.

      Mark smiled reluctantly. They’d all been close from school days. Pete, only a year younger than him, was his Chief IT Officer, and Glenn, besides being Bren’s husband, was Financial Controller for Howlcat. Nerds United, they used to call themselves; but they’d stuck together through good times and bad, and there were no two men he trusted more.

      ‘So, how is she? You know Mum’s sure to call me and ask.’

      Mark gave an exaggerated sigh.‘We fell in love at first sight, made passionate love all night and we are eloping on our first day off. Now will you get off my back?’

      Pete’s brows lifted.‘I only meant to ask if she can cook and clean all right, since I know you did her a favour in hiring her,’ he said mildly.

      Mark found himself flushing.‘She makes muesli to die for, keeps the house in perfect order.’ He tried to stop himself, but the stress in him had been building like a pressure cooker on high all weekend, and it had to come out.‘She also says everything she shouldn’t, gives me presents that make my house hers somehow, then says something so sweet I can’t tell her off. She doesn’t act like any employee I’ve known, but I can’t fire her because—’ The words burst from him.‘She’s Shirley Temple—all right? Remember the kid whose dying mother was in the hospice the same time as Chloe a lot? She’s been through hell since then, and she deserves a break.’

      His brother and his friend both nodded, but there was a suspicious twinkle in both sets of eyes, and he knew what was coming.‘I saw her the other day. She’s a real cutie,’ Glenn said.

      ‘Adorable, if you like the type,’ Pete added, grinning.‘Pretty and sweet. Just as well you prefer sophisticated women to china dolls.’

      He was lying, and they all knew it. He growled in agreement and stalked out of the conference room to his haven in Howlcat Industries, pulling off his jacket and tie on the way. Nobody bothered him in the basement lab except in an emergency—even his mother.

      Why he was home by seven-thirty he didn’t know. She was his housekeeper, he wasn’t accountable to her—but the good manners his mother had instilled in him came into play. If dinner was ready by eight, he’d be there.

      Though he was still angry at her less-than-subtle manipulation of his working day, after the breakfast she’d made this morning his stomach was reminding him he didn’t have to get takeout, heat a frozen meal or eat at his parents’ tonight and answer the inevitable questions.

      He came in the back way, and his reward for leaving work was immediate. The smell from the oven made his mouth water and his stomach growl double-time. Baking garlic, cheese and pasta…and music wafted from his ballroom.

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