The Billionaire's Housekeeper (Betsy Jones Book 1) - Unedited

The Billionaire's Housekeeper - Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Betsy stared at the garment bag hanging on the door of the wardrobe and tried her best not to feel terrified. She hadn't seen Nick since she had agreed to be his fake girlfriend. She was avoiding him and he had made himself scarce. The man was probably giving her space. She knew she probably looked like some spooked deer on the edge of fleeing.

Shaking her head, Betsy stretched out a shaky hand and laid it over the nondescript garment bag. There was only an hour and a half before the party was due to start. The kids were already dressed. She had seen to that before even considering her own attire. Now she wished she had given more thought to it.

"I can do this. I can totally do this." She murmured. Pulling the zip down, Betsy then parted the material to reveal the treasure which was hidden within. "And I can't do this. I really can't do this."

Inside was a nineteen twenties inspired dress. It was heavily beaded, the embellishments adding to the old style glamour. No doubt it also added zeros on to the price tag. Betsy stroked her fingers over the blush coloured material and sighed. It was beautiful but it was too much.

"Get yourself together Betsy, it's only a party. It's only people."

Pulling the dress from the bag, the blonde shrugged off her dressing gown and stepped into the garment. It fit like a glove, so close to her form she couldn't help but wonder how Mr Davenport had known her sizes. There was something wrong with the boss knowing just how big her butt was and how small her waist was.

"Don't think about it, just do up the zip and then get your make up done Betsy. All of this will be for nothing if you make the man late to his party." She muttered, reaching a hand behind her to try and snag the zip.

She cussed as her fingernails caught the tip of the zip but did not quite reach.

"Here, let me help you with that." Nicholas stated from the open doorway, his voice deeper than usual as he came to stand behind his employee.

Betsy glanced over her shoulder and gasped at the sight of Nicholas Davenport striding towards her with purposeful strides. He was dressed in a white shirt – one which was not fully buttoned so that Betsy got an eyeful of the flesh beneath. She gulped and turned her head away.

Within a few steps Nick was directly behind her and was glad that she was no longer looking into his eyes. It would have been difficult to try and maintain any kind of eye contact when he was in such close proximity. Still the effect was intoxicating. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin.

It was wrong to enjoy it but Betsy couldn't resist relishing in the warmth. It took away a chill within her body which she hadn't even realised she possessed. And that was without him touching her.

Closing her eyes, Betsy bit her lip hard enough for it to sting. Clarity – she needed lots of it. No matter how much she was feeling, she had to keep her head. He was her employer. She was his housekeeper. Nothing would ever work out well between the two of them.

Reaching out a hand, Nick swept her hair over her shoulder so it was out of the path of the zip. The brush of his finger along the curve of her neck as he did so was just a coincidence. Still, Betsy blushed.

Nick, a blush on his own cheeks, knew he would never forget the sight of his young housekeeper wriggling into the vintage thirty thousand pound dress. He hadn't told her how much it cost. She wouldn't have accepted it but when he had seen it hanging in the boutique he knew there was no other dress for her. And he was right. Her hips had swayed side to side as she had unconsciously tried to wriggle into the delicate fabric of the dress without causing any snags of tears. It was the most simple and erotic sight he had ever witnessed.