Читать книгу Out of Hours...His Feisty Assistant: The Tycoon's Very Personal Assistant / Caught on Camera with the CEO / Her Not-So-Secret Diary - Heidi Rice, Anne Oliver - Страница 11

‘YOU’RE AN EARLY RISER. I guess I didn’t tire you out enough last night.’

Kate’s fingers slipped on the package of Pop Tarts at the sound of the deep, sleep-roughened voice. She turned slowly to see the man she’d had the wildest night of her life with leaning against the kitchen doorway, a cocky smile on his face. He’d pulled on a pair of sweatpants, but otherwise he was gloriously naked. All tanned, leanly muscled male rumpled from the bedroom, his short hair sticking up in sexy tufts.

Her mouth watered and her stomach clenched at one and the same time.

Kate was no expert in morning-after etiquette. Contrary to her wanton behaviour all through the night, she’d never slept with a guy on a first date. Until now. What exactly did you say to a man who’d brought you to unspeakable pleasure too many times to count but whom you hardly knew? She had no idea.

‘It’s the jet lag,’ she said, brandishing the box of breakfast treats. ‘I found these in your cupboard. How do you feel about coffee and a sugar rush for breakfast?’

He yawned and stretched long arms above his head, arching his back. The play of muscles across his torso drew Kate’s eyes. His arms dropped to his side. The bottom dropped out of Kate’s stomach.

‘Those are Joey’s.’ He nodded at the package as he scraped his fingers through his hair bringing his hand to rest briefly on the back of his neck. ‘He’ll be mad if we finish them.’ He walked towards her, his bare feet padding against the smooth granite tiles of the cavernous and luxuriously appointed kitchen. He smiled, a dimple appearing that Kate hadn’t noticed yesterday.

The cold marble work surface pressed into the small of her back as he stopped a few inches from her. His big body radiated heat. He lifted the Pop Tarts out of her hand and leaned across her to put them down on the surface. ‘Anyway,’ he said, his hands resting on her hips. ‘I’m sure we can do better than that.’ He pulled her against him, his thumbs stroking the silk of her dress. The light caress sizzled through her, making her toes curl.

‘I could cook, or we could call room service,’ he murmured, dipping his head to lick the pulse point in her neck. The sizzle flared into her breasts and her nipples hardened. ‘They do great maple pecan waffles, if you’re in the mood for something sweet.’ He wiggled his brows at her lasciviously. ‘I sure am.’

She took several shallow breaths, placed her hands on his chest and eased him back, her brain engaging for the first time since she’d spotted him in the doorway. ‘Who’s Joey?’

Did he have a son? Goodness, he might even have a wife? She’d seen no trace of a woman’s presence when she’d done a little tour of the penthouse after waking up, but, still, he could be married. It horrified her to realise she didn’t know for sure.

He straightened and let her go, studying her face. ‘Don’t look so scared.’ He rested his butt against the kitchen’s central aisle, folded his arms across his chest. ‘Joey’s my five-year-old godson. He sleeps over sometimes when Stella and Monty, his mom and dad, need a babysitter. Who did you think he was?’

‘I just wondered,’ she said, looking down at her toes, faint with relief. She forced a smile. ‘You don’t strike me as the babysitting type.’

‘There’s not a lot of babysitting involved.’ He smiled, the dimple winking at her again. How had she missed that yesterday? ‘I’m a total pushover. Joey calls all the shots. Hence the Pop Tarts. If Stella knew about those we’d both be toast. She’s like the sugar police.’As he spoke his face softened and his voice deepened with affection. He obviously adored the little boy and his parents.

This was a facet of him Kate never would have imagined. It made him seem almost as sweet as the Pop Tarts all of a sudden. Why the discovery should make her stomach tighten and her breathing become even more rapid she couldn’t guess.

‘So how about I order waffles?’ He arched an eyebrow, looking more dangerous than sweet. ‘We can get to the deadly sins we missed last night while we wait.’

She laughed, feeling pretty dangerous herself. ‘Did we miss any?’

He stepped back to her, his enticing male scent enveloping her as he brushed a knuckle across her cheek. ‘I bet I can find a few.’

‘Hmm.’ She considered him, holding her tongue between her teeth. ‘I’d love to take that bet,’ she said.

His hand dropped from her face as he grinned. He looked so delicious, it was almost indecent how much she wanted to take him up on his offer. Disappointment covered the fire in her belly like a wet blanket. ‘But unfortunately, I’ve only got fifteen minutes before I have to meet with your housekeeping manager, Mrs Oakley.’

To think she was going to be making beds all morning when she could have been tearing up the sheets with Zack Boudreaux. She’d had her one night of bliss, and now reality was back with a vengeance.

A line formed across his brow. ‘Why are you meeting Pat?’

‘I think it’s just a formality.’ She shrugged, turned to pour herself a cup of coffee. Looking at his bare chest was only adding to her misery. ‘I filled out the forms yesterday afternoon.’ She put the pot down, recalling the brief phone conversation she’d had with Patricia Oakley and the reams of paperwork that had been sent to her suite.

‘What forms?’

She pulled a cup out of the cabinet, placed it on the surface with a sharp click. ‘I couldn’t find any milk—will black do?’

‘I said, what forms?’

She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes widening at his flat tone.

She turned round. ‘The employment forms, all two thousand of them.’ Cradling the mug of coffee in both hands, she blew on it, inhaled the delicious coffee scent. ‘Mrs Oakley’s going to sort out my social security number for me. It’s a good thing Andrew didn’t take my American passport with him. Or I really would have been up the creek.’ She took a quick sip. It might smell like coffee, but it tasted like water. She wrinkled her nose. ‘No offence,’ she said lightly, ‘but American coffee is disgusting.’

‘Why were you filling out employment forms for Pat?’

She frowned. Why was he behaving as if she were talking in a foreign language?

‘Because I’m going to work here—why else?’She narrowly avoided adding a Duh! It didn’t seem appropriate any more. The teasing mood of a moment before had disappeared.

His brows drew together in a forbidding line.

‘We talked about it, yesterday in your office, remember?’ Kate prompted. ‘You said you were going to ring her about it.’

‘Yeah, but I didn’t call her.’

‘I know you didn’t,’ Kate said, shifting uncomfortably against the hard marble.

She’d felt pretty foolish the day before when she’d mentioned his name to the housekeeping manager. He owned the hotel, for goodness’ sake, of course he didn’t concern himself with trifles. Still, she’d been oddly hurt when Mrs Oakley had told her she hadn’t been contacted by Mr Boudreaux, especially after getting his dinner invitation.

‘It’s all right,’ she said with a brightness she didn’t quite feel. ‘I sorted it out myself. Turns out two of the maids quit last week so Mrs Oakley was more than happy when I—’

‘You’re not working here.’ He interrupted her.

‘I..? Excuse me?’ Had she heard him correctly? She couldn’t have.

‘Kate…’ his voice softened a little ‘…I’ve got a strict rule against sleeping with women who work for me.’

‘Oh.’ The flush working its way up her neck made her feel foolish and more than a little hurt. She hadn’t realised how much she’d been looking forward to continuing their fling. She blinked, determined not to let her sadness at the dismissal show. Of course he’d only been looking for a one-night deal. So had she. When had she started thinking it could be anything else?

‘I understand,’ she said, concentrating on a space above his shoulder. She noticed the clock on the wall behind him and saw her get-out clause. She needed to leave before she embarrassed herself any further. ‘Well, it’s been fun, Zack,’ she said, putting her mug down on the counter. ‘But I really should be going. Mrs Oakley will be waiting.’ She gave him what she hoped was an unconcerned smile. ‘I don’t want to be late my first day on the job.’

She went to walk past him, but his fingers closed over her arm, stopping her dead.

‘You’re not listening to me, Kate.You’re not working here.’

She gawped at him. ‘Yes, I am,’ she said carefully. What was he on about?

‘No, you’re not,’ he said, the definite edge to his voice starting to worry her. ‘You don’t have to now.’

‘Of course, I do. I need the money.’

His jaw went rigid. ‘I gave you five hundred dollars. If that’s not enough, say so.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hold back her own temper. ‘I don’t want you to give me any more money. The more I take, the more I’ll have to pay back.’ Why was he being deliberately dense? ‘I left four of the hundreds you gave me in the living room, by the way. Mrs Oakley was nice enough to say she’d sort out a proper advance in a couple of days. When I—’

‘What are you talking about?’

She stiffened. Why was he so irritated?

He twisted away, shoving his fingers through his hair and combing it into unruly furrows. Frustration snapped in the air around him before he gave a long-suffering sigh and turned back. ‘You say you need money.’ He said the words slowly, surely, as if he were talking to a dim-witted child. ‘I gave you money. Why are you giving it back to me?’

‘Because it’s not my money,’ she shot back, annoyed at having to state the obvious. ‘It’s yours.’

‘So what? It’s only five hundred bucks. I don’t want it back.’

‘But I thought that was the advance we’d talked about.’

‘What advance?’ he said, holding his palms up in exasperation before slapping them down on the sideboard.

Realisation suddenly dawned on Kate. With it came the grinding feeling of helplessness, of inadequacy, she’d fought throughout her childhood.

‘Wait a minute,’ she said, carefully. ‘You mean you gave me five hundred dollars. Why would you do that?’

She’d thought the money was an advance, but if it wasn’t…? The events of the previous night came reeling back to her. Without the glow of sexual excitement, the romance of the moment, what she’d done took on a whole different hue.

She pressed her thighs together, felt the lingering tenderness and was suddenly ashamed of all the times he’d been buried deep inside her.

What had he been thinking when she’d flirted with him, when she’d thrown herself at him, when she’d come apart in his arms? She covered her mouth, scared she might throw up.

‘I’ve got to go,’ she blurted out, desperate to get away.

Zack couldn’t believe his eyes as the colour drained out of her face and she turned and ran out of the room. ‘What the…?’

It took him a minute, but he caught up with her in the hallway, snagged her arm. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

She shot him a disdainful look, but he could feel her shaking. Something had really upset her, but what?

‘I thought I told you yesterday,’ she said, the tears hovering on her lids. ‘I’m not a prostitute.’

‘What? Who said you were a prostitute?’

‘You don’t give someone five hundred dollars for nothing.’

So that was it. They were back to the money again. Damn, the woman had more issues than a daytime chat show. ‘You were in a fix. I helped you out. It’s not that big a deal.’

‘It is to me.’ He could see by the stubborn tilt of her chin she wasn’t kidding.

She tried to wrestle her arm free. He held firm. No way was she skipping out on him until they got this settled.

‘Will you let go of my arm?’

He softened his grip, but kept her in place. ‘Not until you tell me what the problem is.’

‘It’s simple. I don’t accept money from men I don’t know.’

‘First off,’ he said, pulling her closer, ‘you do know me. After what we did last night you know me pretty damn well.’ He felt a stab of satisfaction when she blushed a vivid red. ‘Second off, the five hundred wasn’t payment for sexual favours.’ Now he thought about it, he was pretty damned insulted himself. ‘I’ve never paid for sex and I never will.’

The blush intensified, but her arm relaxed. ‘Okay.’ Her breath gushed out and the rigid line of her shoulders softened. ‘I’m sorry I accused you of that. It’s just…It looked…I don’t know—it looked funny.’

‘It was a gift between friends.’

She nodded. ‘All right, but I still can’t accept it.’

Now she was just being stubborn. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I can’t,’ she said, her voice rising to match his.

Her lips puckered up into the defiant pout he’d admired the day before. He wasn’t admiring it so much any more.

‘Look, calm down, okay?’ He ran his palm down her bare arm, struggling to soothe while his own emotions were in turmoil. He could see the hot flash of temper in her eyes, but beneath it was something else that looked suspiciously like hurt. It bothered him he might have caused it.

He tried to figure out where he’d gone wrong. How things had got messed up so fast.

Everything had been great when he’d woken up, his body still humming from one incredible night of mind-blowing sex. He’d spent the next ten minutes lying in bed, the hazy dawn sunlight streaming over him while he’d breathed in the lingering scent of Kate’s perfume overlaid with the smell of freshly percolating coffee and enjoyed some inventive fantasies about what they could do for the rest of the day.

When he’d found Kate in the kitchen, clutching Joey’s Pop Tarts, the soft blonde hair he now knew was natural still damp from her shower and that sexy dress stretched across her lush rear end, he’d figured it wouldn’t take him long to start making his fantasies reality. The next few days had spread out before him like a smorgasbord of sexual pleasures and he’d had every intention of digging in.

Then she’d started babbling on about Pat and employment paperwork and money and everything had gone to hell in a handbasket. Well, she could forget about working here. He didn’t want her working for him, he wanted her with him—in bed as well as out—for the next couple of days, but he could see he was going to have to change tactics to get what he wanted.

‘Kate, this is dumb.’ He forced reason and logic into his voice. ‘We hit it off last night. I’ve got a couple of days before I have to head out to California.’ He stroked his thumb across the inside of her elbow, encouraged by her shiver of response. ‘We could have a lot of fun in that time.’She didn’t say anything so he pressed on. Surely she could see this was the smart option. ‘You can stay here as my guest and then I’ll buy you a ticket home to London when I leave. How does that sound?’

Kate didn’t think she’d ever been more humiliated in her whole life. This was worse than being turfed out into a hotel corridor in her underwear. She stepped away from Zack, humiliated all over again by the terrible yearning that seized her. That her body was clamouring for her to say yes to his insulting proposal only made the situation that much more unbearable.

‘I pay my own way. I always have and I always will.’ She tightened her arms across her breasts, willing herself to stop trembling. ‘And I’m very sorry, but, as much fun as we had last night, I’m not prepared to be your paid plaything for the next few days.’

He cursed softly. ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it.’

‘Mrs Oakley’s offered me a job here and I’m taking it,’ she continued, grateful when he made no move to touch her. ‘If you don’t want me working in your hotel you can have me fired, that’s certainly your prerogative.’ She prayed he wouldn’t do that, but she wasn’t about to beg. ‘But you don’t have to worry about sleeping with the staff, because we’re not sleeping together any more. How does that sound?’

He swore again, his big body rigid, his hands fisted by his sides. The frustration was coming off him in waves but he didn’t say a word.

She walked down the hallway to the elevator with as much dignity as she could muster and stabbed the call button.

‘Have it your way, sweetheart,’ he said, his voice brittle, before she heard the door slam shut behind her.

Her shoulders slumped in a cruel mixture of relief and regret. The lift pinged its arrival, the sound reverberating round the empty lobby like a mission bell.

As Kate stepped into the private car she spotted her gold sandals where they had fallen the evening before. The lurid memory of being wrapped around Zack, her body quivering with anticipation, made her tense as she bent to pick up the shoes.

The lone teardrop glittered as it splashed onto the golden leather.