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Spying On The Boss
Janet Lee Nye
The new guy's turning her into a hot mess!A difficult childhood left Sadie Martin more interested in work than anything else, including romance. But she’d be a fool not to notice that her newest employee is scorching hot. As long as he works for her, though, he's off limits. Her company—sexy guys who clean houses—comes first. So why are Wyatt Anderson and his adorable niece always on her mind? When attraction turns into more, suddenly everything is a lot more complicated…and, frankly a huge mess. What Sadie and Wyatt need is a clean slate. For understanding…and love.
The new guy’s turning her into a hot mess!
A difficult childhood left Sadie Martin more interested in work than anything else, including romance. But she’d be a fool not to notice that her newest employee is scorching hot. As long as he works for her, though, he’s off-limits. Her company—sexy guys who clean houses—comes first. So why are Wyatt Anderson and his adorable niece always on her mind? When attraction turns into more, suddenly everything is a lot more complicated...and, frankly, a huge mess. What Sadie and Wyatt need is a clean slate. For understanding...and love.
Wyatt couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to Sadie.
She’d about taken his breath away when he’d walked into the kitchen. She wore a sundress, exposing her arms and legs. And they were mighty fine arms. And the legs, well, he couldn’t continue those thoughts while a guest at her table. She had her hair piled up in a haphazard bun at the back of her head. Several of the curls had escaped and one swayed against the nape of her neck, taunting him. He wanted to brush it aside and press his lips to the tender skin below it.
He looked down at his plate and sopped up sauce with a bit of bread. And you are a lying, deceitful spy who has no right to even think about her. Pretty soon, he’d “quit” and move on. She’d never know.
The idea of hurting her made him feel like an even bigger jerk.
Dear Reader (#ulink_cc413368-5b05-5799-b799-6e4e06683f7e),
It was just me and a few friends, chatting on Twitter about cute guys. “You should have seen the hot guy my cleaning company sent over,” she said.
“Hot? What? Please send us a picture!”
She didn’t send the picture, but later that day, when my partner came home from work, I said, “You know what I should do? Start a cleaning company. Hot guys cleaning houses.”
“I don’t know about starting a business,” he said. “You’re a writer. How about a book?”
That’s how all of this started.
Sadie, Wyatt and I have been on a long journey together. At one point, I even thought their story would end up under the bed, in a trunk of discarded papers, never to be seen again. Then I got the call from Mills & Boon through its SYTYCW (So You Think You Can Write) contest.
It’s always when it seems darkest that the light breaks through, isn’t it?
I hope you love Sadie and Wyatt as much as I do.
Thank you,
Janet Lee Nye
Spying on the Boss
Janet Lee Nye
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JANET LEE NYE is a writer by day and a neonatal nurse by night. She lives in Charleston, South Carolina, with her fella and her felines.
She discovered romance with books she “borrowed” from her grandmother and renewed her love affair with the genre after stumbling upon Robyn Carr’s Virgin River series.
Rumors of her jelly bean addiction are completely exaggerated.
For Danny. Thanks for letting me be your mom.
Contents
Cover (#ucb604c1f-672a-5a94-aecb-560d9ca68b5d)
Back Cover Text (#u469e6b8d-1091-5d39-9b51-9f1223d9f92c)
Introduction (#ub8e4b93a-a8b2-5c87-a6bd-b7f98d9ead9c)
Dear Reader (#ulink_7bae04f9-3916-50c4-bc34-b2fa45487fa5)
Title Page (#ubfc09294-4c59-5e89-8c79-7c4f6409c011)
About the Author (#u4e265128-8ff4-5ccd-b801-0b0a8d1bd31b)
Dedication (#u6dad69e9-cf27-54ca-9a50-13af2d141d46)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_02b73250-de02-54cf-be18-0db178178397)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_9c9e1b3d-2d1f-562d-b94c-384a56a66ddb)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_163a2c1b-b2fc-5cc1-abec-3a489cbf56c1)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_c41e871c-3e34-5906-a0de-2eb3d741294b)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_29c3c159-dc16-5d61-bc12-5b42f43cb8d3)
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_db263cd9-1f52-5c31-abd7-798fb4371e30)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_1f8b6b03-9f16-5a95-932e-25be06157217)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_d696636a-af2d-552b-8ee5-b652802e5990)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_b7968c52-e8c7-554b-9133-2f4a2b161840)
FRIDAY SHOULD NOT start with a dead cat. That seemed more of a Monday sort of problem. Sadie ended the call and slumped back in her desk chair. Her black-and-white mutt, Jack, came over to sniff the phone dangling from her hand. “Seriously?” she asked the ceiling. “For real? This is happening?”
The ceiling didn’t answer and when Jack found no treat in her hand, he went back to his doggy bed with an aggrieved sigh. Sadie hauled herself out of the chair with her own sigh. Dead cat. Even worse, it was a client’s. She picked up her purse and pointed at Jack.
“Stay!”
He obeyed. Probably because he was already back to sleep. Sadie shook her head as she headed down the hall, digging in her purse for her keys. Dog never listens to a word I say anyway.
“Hey, Molly?” she called. “Rosie’s dead, and Heidi is flipping out so I’ve got to get over there and...”
The words stuttered to a stop as her mouth fell open. There was a man sitting in the small reception area. She glanced in the direction of her receptionist’s desk but it was empty. “Who are you?”
The man stood. “Wyatt Anderson. I have a nine-thirty interview.”
“Sorry. Hold on. I’ve got a bit of a situation.”
She turned and backtracked to the kitchen where she spotted Molly coming out of the supply room with a package of copy paper. “There’s a man out there.” Sadie whispered.
“Must be your interview. Is he cute?”
“No, he is not cute. He’s freaking gorgeous.”
Good-looking guys hanging out in her lobby was nothing new. Her entire company was built on them. The Cleaning Crew’s business model was simple: hot guys cleaned your house or business. But her guys were only that—guys. Young guys who were hot, just in the abstract. They were like her little brothers or something. But this guy was a blond, tanned, full-grown hunk of a man.
She and Molly returned to the reception area. The small space with the two wingback chairs and Molly’s desk seemed even smaller with him standing there. He was smiling somewhat uncertainly, laugh lines bracketing his eyes as twin dimples appeared in his cheeks. Sadie knew she should say something, but those dimples rendered her incapable of coherent thought. She’d never found blond men very attractive. They seemed too pretty. This man was not pretty. No, he was ruggedly handsome. His dark blond hair was wavy and a tad shaggy. Brown eyebrows arched over hazel eyes. His nose looked as if it had been broken in the past and his lips made a woman wonder how they might feel against hers.
Molly let out a quivering little sigh. That broke the spell and Sadie frowned at her. Molly was sixty years old. She’d been the second person Sadie had ever hired. She was a tiny, round woman with red hair fading to white and green eyes that missed nothing. She kept all the guys—and Sadie, too—in line with either grandmotherly love or sternness, whichever the situation required. But she could hardly blame Molly when her own mouth wouldn’t stay shut. She snapped to attention and took a step forward, shook his hand and managed to choke out, “Sadie Martin, nice to meet you.” A thrill raced from her palm up her arm at the touch. Holy cow.
She retrieved her hand. He’d followed the interview request to wear jeans and a white T-shirt. It was the Cleaning Crew uniform, although the official T-shirt had the logo on the breast pocket. She forced herself to focus. This is a job interview. He had the face. Her eyes swept over him. And he most definitely had the body.
She sucked at guessing people’s height, but she had to tilt her head up to look him in the eye and she was five-nine. The shirt was snug over broad shoulders and a solid chest, the sleeves tight around his biceps. It fell loose over his abdomen and she would bet the stash of jelly beans in the bottom drawer of her desk there was a nice six-pack under there.
And... Oh, shit! The cat. She turned to Molly. “I have to go. Josh needs help with Heidi Klingman. Rosie’s dead. She’s upset and Josh made it worse. It’s a mess. I’ve got to get over there and play St. Gertrude. Make a note to send her flowers and a card tomorrow.”
She turned and once again froze at the sight of Wyatt standing there with his arms crossed, all sexy forearms and bulging muscles. Oh, heck, the interview. She needed to get him on board. The clients would be fighting over him. If he passed the testing. Please, God in heaven, let him pass the testing, pretty please with jelly beans on top.
“Want to take a ride? We can do the interview on the way.”
“Sure.”
It seemed like a good idea until she was in the car with him. Strapped into the passenger seat, he made her Explorer feel claustrophobic. Her employees were college kids who needed the flexible hours of the job. He was her age, maybe a little older. She was unusually aware of his presence. Big and male and, damn, he smelled good. Like sunshine and salt water and man.
“It’s not far,” she said as she pulled out onto Savannah Highway. “Hopefully, I can get the situation under control quickly.”
“Who’s dead?”
He sounded serious and she remembered from his application that he’d been a cop. Yeah, that was interesting. A cop, then in the National Guard, and his last job was as a house painter. Not the typical career path. “A cat.”
“And St. Gertrude?”
Sadie laughed. “Patron saint of cats. I only know this because Heidi has an altar with her picture and the pictures of every cat she’s owned since she was, like, ten. There are a lot.”
She cleared her throat, trying to find her inner boss. Make this gooey girl melting over a man go away. Get it together. You can’t hire a man if he’s going to make you violate your number one rule. No fooling around, ever. Not in word, jest or deed. Interview. His hand was resting lightly on his thigh and she remembered the pleasant shock of his skin touching hers. She’d never felt that before. Stop it. Focus. You’re not picking him up in a bar.
“You were a police officer?”
He shifted in his seat so he was facing her. This was unfair. She could only steal glances while navigating traffic. He was looking right at her. She couldn’t remember if she’d bothered with makeup that morning. She glanced in the rearview, pretending to check traffic. Not too bad. Nothing hanging from her nose at least.
“That’s right.”
“Why’d you quit?”
“Did two tours in Afghanistan with the National Guard. After I got home, the whole law-and-order, stress-and-danger thing didn’t appeal to me.”
At the red light, she watched him carefully for a long moment. His body language and facial expression were relaxed. His tone of voice hadn’t changed. She nodded. “Here’s where I say thank you for your service and mean it but feel sort of dorky saying it.”
His laugh took her by surprise. It was lush and without restraint. “Here’s where I say thank you and feel slightly embarrassed about it for no particular reason.”
She smiled and some of her awkwardness slipped away. “So you started painting houses?”
“A guy I knew in the guard was kind enough to hire me.”
“Why are you applying with us?”
“With the economy, painting jobs are scarce. If we get a job, we’re there evenings, weekends. Whatever’s needed to finish. On the flip side, if the weather’s bad, no work. I need steadier hours.”
“That’s why you need a job. Why us?”
He held up a hand as he ticked off items. “Your reputation. Your salary. Your growing customer base.”
