suit jacket underneath, exposing an expanse of snow-white cotton across his broad chest, all the whiter against the olive skin of his face and hands.
He was watching her, she realised. Watching her watching him. Her skin prickled. How could he do that with just his eyes? But it wasn’t just his eyes, it was the slightly upturned mouth, the sculpted jaw and the attitude. Oh, yes, he had attitude to burn.
She pressed herself back into the seat, trying to look less overwhelmed, more relaxed. ‘I guess you’ve never met anyone who hasn’t been in a stretch limousine before. My reaction must have been quite entertaining.’
‘On the contrary,’ he said, without moving his eyes from hers, ‘I found it charming.’
Charming. Nobody had ever used that word around her before. She wouldn’t have believed them if they had. He was no doubt being polite. More likely thinking gauche . She felt it. Maybe she should steer the conversation, such as it was, to safer territory.
‘Is it far to the hotel?’
‘Not far.’
‘Do you know what kind of job it is?’
‘I think you will perform a variety of tasks. I’m sure you will find them to your liking.’
‘Oh.’ She wished he could be more specific. ‘But it’s a live-in position?’
Across the vast interior he nodded, his dark eyes glinting in the light of a passing streetlamp, and for some reason she suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if she’d almost glimpsed something in their otherwise shadowed depths.
‘There is just one catch.’
‘Oh?’ There had to be though, she thought. Why should her life suddenly turn around without there being a catch? ‘What is it?’
‘The position has a fixed contract. This job will last only one month.’
‘I see.’ She sank back in her seat. Well, a month was better than nothing. And at least she’d have time to sort something else in between now and then.
‘But you will be well compensated.’
She blinked up at him. ‘Thank you again for your generosity,Mr…’ and she was left floundering, speechless. She was in a car heading who knew where with a man who’d promised her a job somewhere and she didn’t even know his name. When would she learn? What the hell kind of mess was she heading for now? ‘Oh, My God, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I don’t even know your name.’
He smiled and dipped his head. ‘I assure you, you have nothing to fear. Andreas Xenides at your service.’
Her eyes narrowed. She was sure she’d heard the name, maybe even read something in one of the papers back home before she’d left. But that man had been a billionaire. She didn’t tend to meet many of them in her line of business. Maybe this man was related. ‘I think there’s someone called Xenides with a huge hotel up on the Gold Coast in Queensland.’
He nodded. ‘The Xenides Mansions Hotel. One of my best performers.’
She swallowed. ‘That’s your hotel? You own it?’
‘Well, one of my companies. But ultimately, yes, I own it.’
She didn’t so much sink back into her seat as collapse against it.
He frowned. ‘Does that bother you?’
‘Bother me? It terrifies me!’ She put a hand to her wayward mouth. Oh, my, the man was a billionaire and she’d thrown a slipper at his head, right before she’d bawled him out in the basement and insisted he pay her wages and find her a replacement job. As a cleaner. And the amazing thing about it was that he had.
Mind you, the way people were running around after him at the hotel ready to do his bidding, he could probably have found her a job as an astronaut if he’d put his mind to it.
What must it be like to wield that much power? She glanced over at him, her eyes once more colliding with his dark drivengaze. So he was a billionaire. That answered a few questions. But it didn’t answer all of them.
‘There’s something I don’t understand.’
‘Oh.’ He tilted his head to one side, as if almost amused. ‘What is it?’
‘Why would you care about a tiny