More than a Maid Read Online Free PDF

recently. "All right." She brought a hand to her hip and sidestepped directly in front of him. "So, if I'm sexy to you, does that mean if I were to take a little trip through your Internet search history, I'd find pictures that look like this?" She gestured down at her body.
    Ramon gave her a blank grin. His eyes dropped to her chest, then her hips, then back up to look in her eyes. "Maybe. But I can't know for sure unless you take your clothes off."
    Her pulse raced. Biting back her smile, she wondered how far she could take it. But she decided not to give him the satisfaction. At least, not just yet. Tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, she shuffled back to her suitcase. "Maybe some other time when you're not so tired."
    Ramon laughed, then leaned back on his elbows. His tone got a bit more serious. "So what's your deal, anyway? You married? Divorced? Single?" He shrugged. "Otherwise attached?"
    "Single. Not that it's any of your business."
    "So, Victor said you had your own company. What happened? Must've been something bad if you were willing to pick up and move so far away for a whole month."
    As she hung another blouse, she gave him a thoughtful look. Maybe as owner of the house, he was within his rights to ask these questions. And she sensed he was genuinely curious. So, as she turned around to hang the blouse in the closet, she gave him an honest answer. "I started my cleaning business a few years ago, after I lost my job. Turns out a lot of other people suddenly had the same business idea." She turned to the suitcase on the bed. "It's too competitive. And to make things worse, this new industrial cleaning company moved to town. Undercut my prices. I didn't stand a chance."
    "Yeah." He let out a sympathetic huff. "I get that. What'd you do before you started workin' for yourself?"
    Marcy hesitated, confused by his sudden interest, but urged on by the sincerity in his eyes. "I was a bookkeeper for a long time, until that company folded. That was the job I lost a few years ago. Haven't been able to find another one like it."
    Ramon yawned, then said, "So, since you already knew how to keep the books, you figured you'd start your own company? Is that what happened?"
    "Yeah, something like that." She looked at him. "Why are you asking me all this stuff?"
    He shrugged. "I don't know. I've lived in this house since I was eight years old and I've always worked at this ranch. Guess I'm kinda curious about the rest of the world."
    "Do you wish you'd made some different decisions?"
    "Nah. I'm happy. Can't think of anything else I'd rather be doin'. I just have a curious mind, I suppose."
    "Did you go to college?"
    "Nope. Couldn't stand the thought of it. You?"
    "Beauty school."
    He nodded slowly. "Ah. That explains it."
    "Explains what?"
    "Your hair. It's so long and shiny. Like, too perfect or something. Must take a lot of work to get it that way."
    "What?" Marcy gave him a disbelieving squint, determined not to show how flattered she truly was. "That's an odd thing to say. All I do is condition, keep it trimmed, take vitamins. It's pretty easy."
    "Hmm." He sat up, eyeing her. "So. Haircuts." He flashed a little smile. "Is that a service you offer? You know, along with the housekeeping?"
    "Are you asking for a haircut?"
    "Maybe. Tell me why you don't do it anymore."
    She rolled her eyes as she thought back to those days. "I only lasted a couple years. I used to argue with clients about what looked best. Sometimes the style a lady wants isn't the style a lady needs." Her eyebrows shot up.
    Ramon laughed. "Seriously? You mean, you just gave people whatever hair you thought they needed?"
    She shrugged. "Sometimes. Especially if they were vague. I'd just lie afterward and say, 'I'm sorry, I thought this was what you wanted.' But I finally quit after this mean old lady slapped me. That was the last straw."
    "Someone slapped you? You've gotta be kiddin' me."
    "True story. I think she was senile, though. She kept calling me