Maid for the Millionaire by Susan Meier

Their compatibility in bed was only equaled by how incompatible they’d been at his events. A Friend Indeed’s ball would be the first time he’d see her in his world since their divorce. She’d failed miserably when she was his wife. Now he’d see her in a gown, hosting the kind of event she’d refused to host for him.
    â€œThis is making you nervous.” He paused, probably waiting for her to deny that. When she didn’t he said, “Why?”
    She desperately wanted to lie. To pretend nothing was wrong. But that was what had gotten her into trouble with him the first time around. She hadn’t told him the truth about herself. She let him believe she was something she wasn’t.
    She sucked in a breath for courage and faced him. “Because I’ll know you’ll be watching me. Looking for the difference in how I am now and how I was when we were married.”
    He chuckled. “I’ve already noticed the differences.”
    â€œAll the differences? I don’t think so.”
    â€œSo tell me.”
    â€œMaybe I don’t want to be reminded of the past.”
    â€œMaybe if you told me about your past, you wouldn’t be so afraid. If what you’re fearing is my reaction, if you tell me, we’ll get it out of the way and you won’t have anything to fear anymore.”
    He wasn’t exactly right, but he had made a point without realizing it. Maybe if she told him the truth about her humble beginnings and saw his disappointment, she could deal with it once and for all.
    She returned to the dining room and walked around the table, gathering napkins as she spoke, so she wouldn’t have to look at him.
    â€œWhen I was growing up my mom just barely made enough for us to scrape by. I’d never even eaten in a restaurant other than fast food before I left home for university. I met you only one year out of school. And though by then I’d been wining and dining clients, traveling and seeing how the other half lived, actually being dumped into your lifestyle was culture shock to me.”
    â€œI got that—a little late, unfortunately—but I got it. We were working around it, but you never seemed to adapt.”
    â€œThat’s because there’s something else. Something that you don’t know.”
    Also gathering things from the table, he stopped, peered over at her.
    Glad for the distance between them, the buffer of space, she sucked in a fortifying breath. “I…um…my parents’ divorce was not a happy one.”
    â€œVery few divorces are.”
    â€œActually my mom, sisters and I ran away from my dad.” She sucked in another breath. “He was abusive.”
    â€œHe hit you?” Anger vibrated through his words, as if he’d demand payback if she admitted it was true.
    â€œYes. But he mostly hit my mom. We left in the night—without telling him we were going—because a charity like A Friend Indeed had a home for us hundreds of miles away in Philadelphia. We changed our names so my dad couldn’t find us.”
    He sat on one of the chairs surrounding the table. “Oh.” Processing that, he said nothing for a second then suddenly glanced up at her. “You’re not Liz Harper?”
    â€œI am now. My name was legally changed over a decade ago when we left New York.”
    â€œWow.” He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œIt’s certainly not your fault that my father was what he was or that I lived most of my life in poverty, always on the outside looking in, or that I didn’t have the class or the experiences to simply blend into your life.”
    â€œThat’s why you’re so attached to A Friend Indeed.”
    She nodded. “Yes.”
    A few seconds passed in silence. Liz hadn’t expected him to say anything sympathetic. That simply wasn’tCain. But saying nothing at all was worse than a