AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I swallow and force my gaze up to a face that looks as though it was chiseled from stone and polished to perfection. A mass of dark stubble covers the lower half of his jaw, accentuating a pair of sharp tanned cheekbones.
Damn.
His deep-brown hair is attractively mussed, and two chips of amber glare down at me through inky black lashes. He smells like burnt cedar, spice, and something I can’t quite identify, and I try not to be obvious as I inhale his heady scent.
“Who the hell are you?” the man rumbles. His deep voice resonates throughout my whole body, and my heart gives a nervous little jolt.
That’s not the greeting I was expecting.
“Julianna Navarro,” I splutter, sticking out my hand. “You can call me Jules. I own White Glove Maid Service.”
“I didn’t hire a maid service,” the man snaps, staring down at my outstretched hand with obvious distrust.
“You didn’t?”
Shit. Are there two Winterwood Lanes in Aspen? How else would I have screwed this up?
“No.”
My chest flutters with nerves, and I draw back my hand. My immediate impulse is to flee, but I need to figure out where I went wrong. “You’re not Mr. Beckett? We spoke Tuesday about —”
“No.” The man’s reply is so short and unfriendly that I take a half step back. I open my mouth and close it again. No, he’s not Beckett? Or no, he didn’t call about hiring a maid?
Taking a few beats to compose myself, I pull on my most professional smile and hold my head a little higher. Whether this man believes me or not, Beckett and I had an appointment. I’m not about to be run off by this rude stranger. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“Clearly.”
The word comes out more like a hiss, and something inside me snaps. As far as I know, I’m right where I’m supposed to be, and I’m fed up with this guy’s attitude. “Look, I spoke with Mr. Lazos’s head of security about my company’s offerings.” I reach down to grab a card off my clipboard and hold it out for the man’s inspection. “We are the premier cleaning service in Aspen and provide an end-to-end first-class experience. I was under the assumption that Mr. Lazos required a housekeeper. But if he doesn’t —”
“He does,” the man cuts in, taking me by surprise.
My eyes narrow in confusion, and I open my mouth, but no words come out.
Understanding softens his features, and the man looks suddenly sheepish. “I’m Mr. Lazos,” he admits. “You can call me Dimitri.”
“O-oh,” I stammer, trying to hide my surprise that the unshaven man in the wrinkled white shirt is the same man who owns this massive house.
Dimitri Lazos. Dimitri Lazos. Why does that name sound so familiar?
“Beckett didn’t tell me he’d called you,” Dimitri says quietly. “Sometimes my head of security . . .” He rolls his eyes. “Well, Beckett has a way of forcing me to accept what he thinks I need.”
The corner of Dimitri’s mouth twitches. It isn’t quite a smile, but it draws my attention to a pair of decadent lips.
“Right,” I say, shifting my clipboard in my arms. Does this mean he’s not going to chase me off his property? Should I go straight into my pitch or wait for Beckett to arrive?
“Come in,” Dimitri growls, stepping aside to let me pass and looking unreasonably flustered. He acts as though he’s never invited someone into his home before and isn’t sure how to do it.
I take a deep breath as I walk through the door, my heart doing a funny little somersault as Dimitri’s warm scent washes over me.
I look around the dimly lit entryway to get my bearings, and my breath catches in my throat. I’m standing in a grand foyer with natural stone flooring and a tall arched ceiling.
An enormous iron lantern hangs over the entryway like a chandelier, its glass frosted over with a layer of dust so thick I could write my name in it. Cobwebs snake up the thick chain, and more flank the exposed beams that criss-cross the ceiling.
“How does this usually work?” he asks, pausing just inside the entryway and running a hand through his messy hair.
“I like to do a brief walkthrough — just to get a feel for the house and assess its general condition. Then the two of us will sit down to discuss your needs, and I’ll prepare a quote.”
Dimitri nods as if that makes sense and leads me silently down the hallway. I’ve never been in a house as grand as this, and I’m a little intimidated by the prospect of Dimitri being my very first client.
