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‘What as? Your cleaning lady?’
    There was a huge appeal in that image—Daisy on her hands and knees, scrubbing his floors, her perky bottom swaying with the action. But he knew he wasdead if he suggested it. His mind whizzed to other possibilities. He didn’t need a PA. His business was fully staffed. No room for her there. So what could he offer that she wouldn’t turn down flat?
    ‘You need a lifeline, right?’ he said, hedging for time to come up with an acceptable rescue package. ‘A stopgap until you can find a job that suits you?’
    ‘If I have to clean floors, I will, but they won’t be yours,’ she vowed rebelliously, one hip jutting out as she stuck a hand on it, emphasising the fascinating smallness of her waist. ‘You are the last person I want to do anything for right now.’
    Ethan smothered a sigh. Feudal lord and serving girl was not an appealing picture to her. Although if he wrapped it up in gold paper…
    ‘How about executive housekeeper? I’ve recently bought a property I’ve started on renovating. You could oversee the tradesmen’s work, ensure that everything’s kept in order. I’ll pay you the same salary you earned with Lynda Twiggley.’
    The fight in her eyes wavered into a sea of vulnerable uncertainty—the need for no break in her money chain warring with a mountain of doubts about what she might be getting into by putting herself in his power. Her throat moved convulsively. She was swallowing hard. And blinking hard.
    ‘Are you serious?’ she asked huskily.
    ‘Yes. I’m sorry for causing you so much distress,’ he said quietly, realising she was desperately trying to stem a gush of tears. ‘The least I can do is tide you over until you find better ground for yourself.’
    She bit her lips. Her eyelashes swept down. She lowered her head. Her hand dropped from her hip andfretted at the pill-box hat she was holding in her other hand. ‘It might be months before I can find another job,’ she mumbled anxiously.
    ‘I expect the renovations will go on for months. It’s a messy business. It will be good to have someone on site, checking up on everything. Even the most reputable builders need a critical eye on them to get it all right and clean up after themselves. In effect, you’d be my PA for a special project. Okay?’
    The eyelashes slowly fluttered up again. He had the weird sense of his heart turning over as she looked earnestly at him. ‘You’re really serious about this? You’ll pay me as much as Lynda Twiggley did?’
    Down to the bartering line again, he thought with his usual cynicism, but if that’s what it took to get this woman he’d do it. He reached for his wallet. ‘I’ll give you an advance on your salary to seal the deal.’
    She stared at his bulging wallet as he opened it—the hook that never failed to work.
    ‘How much were you being paid? A couple of thousand a week?’ He riffled through the notes, prepared to give her any sum she nominated. It was irrelevant to him. He’d just won two million dollars in prize money on Midas Magic.
    She shook her head.
    ‘More? Less?’ he prompted.
    Her gaze lifted, meeting his with steely pride. ‘I don’t take money I haven’t earned, Mr Cartwright. My salary was fifteen hundred dollars a week before tax. If you’re satisfied with what I can do for you after the first week of being your on-site PA, I’d appreciate it if you’d pay me then.’
    ‘Fine!’ he agreed, barely hiding the jolt of surprise at her refusal to grab the money.
    Honesty…fair play…Daisy Donahue was exhibiting a fine sense of both, making him feel slightly uncomfortable about having his own secret agenda.
    ‘Where is this property?’ she asked.
    ‘Hunters Hill.’
    She pressed him for more details, weighing up the information he gave, assuring herself there was a genuine job to be done. Once they’d settled on a meeting at the house at eight o’clock on Monday morning of the next week, she took her leave of him, very