The Millionaire and the Maid

So why hadn’t he sold it?

She stared at him and pursed her lips. Maybe Mac hadn’t given up on life as completely as he thought.

He glared. ‘What?’

‘You wouldn’t consider selling it, would you?’

He blinked. ‘Could you afford it?’

‘I’ve been working in the Outback for the last eight years, making decent money but having very little to spend it on.’

He scratched a hand through his hair. ‘But you’re not earning a decent wage now.’

She was earning enough to cover her needs.

He jabbed a finger at her. ‘And you may, in fact, be training for a new job shortly.’

‘I suppose it wouldn’t be the most practical of moves.’

He glared. ‘You can say that again.’

He didn’t want to sell it! She bit back a grin. There was still some life in Mac after all.

He settled back in his seat with a harrumph. ‘But the offer stands. You can take it for a spin any time you want.’

‘Lord, don’t say that,’ she groaned, ‘or your house will never get cleaned.’

He laughed. It made his eyes dance, it softened his lips, and Jo couldn’t drag her gaze away. ‘You...uh...’ She moistened her lips. ‘You wouldn’t want to come along for a spin?’

His face was immediately shuttered, closed, and she could have kicked herself. ‘Well, no, I guess not. You’re busy writing up your recipes and stuff.’

‘Speaking of which...’ He rose, evidently intent on getting back to work.

She surveyed his retreating back with a sinking heart. Well done, Jo.

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