Bedded by Blackmail / Millionaire's Secret Seduction: Bedded by Blackmail / Millionaire's Secret Seduction. Robyn Grady

      Tristan’s mouth fell open and his arms dropped to his sides like dead weights. Then he dragged a hand down over his mouth and blinked several times.

      No, this didn’t make sense. The hair was the wrong color. That body sure as hell didn’t fit. Still, he ground out the question.

      “Ella…is that you?”

      “Mr. Barkley?” The bombshell’s cheeks turned as red as the miniature roses spilling from the poolside terracotta pots. “You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.”

      “I rang this morning.” Twice.

      Driven by testosterone-fueled force, his gaze dipped lower and his blood began to stir. Mother of mercy, he’d had no idea.

      She folded her arms over the top of the swimsuit, which only made her amazing cleavage appear twice as deep and ten times more alluring. This couldn’t be the same woman…

      “I rolled my ankle on a run this week,” she explained. “I like to keep fit. Swimming’s a good alternative.” Her wet hair sprayed a cold arc on his business shirt as she threw a look at the pool then back. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

      His brain stumbled up to speed. Ella, his unassum-ing housekeeper, ran to keep fit? In a dowdy uniform, who’d have guessed she worried about anything other than making sure the bathroom sparkled and her deli-cious dinners were set on the table on time. Out of uniform, however, in that amazing swimsuit, she looked nothing short of…sensational.

      As telltale heat flared through his system, he shook himself and squared his shoulders. That kind of reaction was totally inappropriate. Miss Jacob was the hired help—his housekeeper—and she still had more than a little explaining to do.

      He cleared the thickness from his throat and stabbed a reproving finger toward the house. “Your uniform and shoes were tossed around the kitchen. Your handbag was tipped upside down on the counter.”

      What was he supposed to have thought? He’d been worried. Damn near frantic, in fact.

      Her sheepish gaze dropped away. “Oh, that.”

      His brow furrowed more. “Yes. Dammit. That.”

      Dripping over the tiles, she began to move away. “It’s kind of hard to explain.”

      “Like it’s hard to explain how your hair’s gone from mousy brown to blond?”

      Had he landed in Wonderland? What was going on!

      “I’ve only dyed it back to my natural color.” She shrugged and explained, “I’m a woman. I wanted a change. This week I wanted to change it back.”

      He growled loud enough to be heard. She was avoiding his question. He wasn’t a hard boss; he deserved her respect. The respect he’d always received from Ella in the past. Unless…

      His thoughts froze as a withering feeling dropped through his center.

      His voice deepened with concern. “Are you in some kind of trouble, Ella? Trouble you don’t want to tell me about?”

      When she blinked at him over her shoulder, her full lips slightly parted, she looked so vulnerable.

      She curled strands of blond behind her ear. “I’m not in trouble. In fact, it’s rather the opposite.”

      She continued on toward a sun lounger, her step favoring one leg. A very nice leg. Very nice body.

      Tristan growled again.

      He needed to get to the bottom of this mystery and he needed to do it now!

      She picked up a towel from the sun lounger’s back and wrapped it around herself, sari style. When she turned toward the house, he barred her way.

      His voice was rough, his gaze unremitting. “I need an answer, Ella.”

      She peered up at him as rivulets of water trickled down her flawless face. Her eyes were the color of Ceylon sapphires. How had he missed that before? Did she usually wear glasses? He didn’t think so.

      Ella’s mouth opened then shut. Finally she blew out a defeated breath. “I was going to tell you tomorrow.”

      He set his hands on his hips. His patience was wearing out. “I suggest you tell me now.”

      Her chin lifted slightly. “I’d like to hand in my resignation. I’m giving you two weeks’ notice.”

      Tristan’s usually balanced world tilted then slid off its axis. He ran a hand through his hair. Of all the crazy things, this had been the farthermost from his mind.

      “You want to leave. Is it the pay?” Her wage was more than generous, but if that was the problem, it could easily be solved. “Name your price.”

      She was the best housekeeper he’d ever had—thorough, autonomous, inconspicuous, or at least she had been until this incident. He wasn’t prepared to let her go, particularly not now.

      The newly elected mayor of a neighboring smaller city had invited himself to dinner in three weeks’ time. A positive impression could only help with an impor-tant deal Tristan had been working on, a project upon which he’d spent a vast amount of time and money. Obviously Ella’s fine cooking skills wouldn’t make or break the deal with Mayor Rufus. However, given the querulous past he and the mayor shared, frankly, Tristan could use all the help he could get.

      A quiet strength shone from Ella’s jeweled eyes. “Money’s not the issue.”

      A recent memory popped into his head, and then he knew. Of course he knew.

      Tristan scratched his temple and replaced the gravel in his voice with a more understanding tone. “Look, if this is about that episode before I left…”

      The red in her cheeks spread down the column of her throat. Her chest rose and fell as she shook her head and, dodging him, moved away. “That morning has nothing to do with my leaving.”

      As his sense of control returned, Tristan eased out a relieved breath. Now that he knew what was behind her resignation, he could fix the situation.

      He caught up, fell into step beside her and searched for words to handle this delicate matter.

      “Admittedly it was an awkward moment,” he said. “But there’s no need to be embarrassed or do anything rash.” His mind went back to that day. “You thought I’d already left for my week away in Melbourne,” he recalled. “You didn’t expect to see me in the bedroom, particularly without any clothes…”

      His words trailed off as, head down, she limped faster.

      That morning when he’d heard her gasp, he’d swung around and Ella’s eyes had grown to the size of saucers. In that moment, he had reflexively stepped closer—to assure her not to be alarmed, nothing more. But he’d barely said her name before she’d scurried down the stairs like a frightened deer. After he’d dressed, he’d gone to smooth things over but had discovered that she’d left the house. With him away this week, they hadn’t spoken of it…until now.

      They lived together. Tricky situations were bound to occur, like her walking in on him buck-naked that morning, like his discovery of her swimming today—

      He frowned.

      Which brought him back to the original question.

      “A resignation doesn’t explain what happened to your handbag.” The way it had been upended as if some no-good scum had been in a hurry to get what he’d come for.

      Her pace eased as she wrapped the towel more securely under her arms. “My inheritance from my mother finally came through.” She flicked him a glance. “Nothing compared to your wealth, but enough that I shouldn’t need to worry about money again if I’m careful. The executor organized to have the funds trans-ferred through to my account last night, but when it bounced back this morning, he rang to check the BSB number. After a few minutes,