Читать книгу The Last Lone Wolf / Seduction and the CEO: The Last Lone Wolf / Seduction and the CEO - Maureen Child - Страница 9

“So,” Daisy asked, plastering a confident smile on her face, “When do I start?”

She watched him watching her and yet, whatever he was thinking at the moment didn’t show in his eyes. Those pale blue depths were shuttered, effectively closing her out. But that would change, she thought. Given a little time, she’d bring him around, win him over. Judging by the look on his face, though, that wouldn’t be easy.

“Ms. Saxon—Daisy,” he corrected before she could say anything. “I’ve been out of town for the past few days. Sam told me only a few minutes ago about you applying for this job.”

“I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret,” she said, meeting his gaze directly. “I mean, you offered to help me after Brant, but I didn’t want to use that offer to get this job. I wanted to earn it on my own merits, you know? I didn’t want you to feel obligated or anything, so I went through Sam when I heard about the job opening.” Which was true, she thought, though she had counted on the fact that Jericho would feel obligated enough to keep her on once she was here. “I’m a very good cook, by the way. Sam saw my references and my résumé. When we spoke, he said he thought I’d do fine here.”

“I disagree,” he said tightly, and Daisy geared up for battle. “The fact is, I don’t think you working here is a good idea at all.”

Daisy swallowed hard. She really hadn’t counted on this. Frankly, she’d expected Jericho to sort of go along with the idea. The whole obligation thing. He had once promised to help if he could. And her late brother had idolized the man. Somehow, she’d expected the “great Jericho King” to be just a bit more understanding. Well, he might not want her to stay, but she wasn’t gone yet.

“Why not?” She threaded her fingers through Nikki’s dark red hair so he wouldn’t be able to see her hand shaking. But even as nerves rattled around in the pit of her stomach, Daisy told herself to get a grip. She wasn’t going to let him see she was nervous. Wasn’t going to acknowledge that even to herself. Not again. From here on out, it was affirmations. Focus on the positive. See the goal and get it.

With those thoughts and a dozen others just like them rushing through her mind, Daisy lifted her chin and waited for him to speak. Whatever excuse or reason he gave her, she was going to counter it. She would fight to be here. To stay here. To accomplish her goal.

To do that, she was going to show him just how much he needed her here. How much she could bring to him and to his camp. And she was going to start right now. She had the element of surprise on her side.

“This place isn’t like the spa you saw today in your travels across the mountain.”

“You can say that again,” she noted, turning a glance to the beige sofas and chairs. “Honestly, do you have something against color?”

“What?”

“Beige,” she said, waving one hand to indicate the furniture in the room. “Beige isn’t a color. It’s the absence of color.”

“Actually,” he said, “that would be black.”

“Well, beige is close,” she insisted. “When you’re running a place like this, you shouldn’t go for industrial chic. You should have warmth in this room. And a few throw rugs would cut down on the echo.”

“I don’t mind the echo.”

“I’m guessing the meals you serve your guests are as imaginative as the décor.”

“I don’t have décor,” he pointed out.

“That’s what I said.”

“I meant,” he said through gritted teeth, “I’m not interested in making this place into a fashionable inn.”

“Oh, I agree. That would be all wrong. After all, you’re going for the whole manly Survivorman thing, right? It doesn’t have to be fussy,” Daisy countered, already seeing in her mind’s eye how it could look. A few pillows, some colorful braided rugs, maybe some splashy paintings on a few of the bare walls. “You want your clients to be comfortable, don’t you?”

“This isn’t a vacation camp. People come here to learn skills. Leadership. They come here to pit themselves against the mountain and Mother Nature.”

“And when they come back to the inn victorious you want them to still be roughing it?”

He inhaled sharply and Daisy thought maybe she’d gone a little far. So she backed up fast. “I’m not saying you should put up lace curtains or use chintz slipcovers. I’m just saying that making this room a little more … comfortable would go a long way toward making your guests feel at ease. Couldn’t hurt to think about it, right?”

“How did we get onto this track?” he wondered aloud.

“We were talking about how good I’d be for your business,” Daisy told him and shushed Nikki when she growled.

He spared a dark look for her dog before he met her gaze again and said, “No, I was telling you I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“But you’re wrong,” she argued.

“I don’t think so.”

“You haven’t given me a chance at all,” she said, fighting both the glint in Jericho’s eyes and the flutter of nerves in her belly. “You don’t even know me. Plus, you haven’t tasted my cooking. You haven’t tried my fried chicken or home-style scalloped potatoes or my fudge mountain cake—”

“This isn’t about. Fudge mountain?”

Daisy grinned as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “It’s amazing. I’ll make it for you.”

Jericho took another deep breath, and she was frankly astonished that his broad, muscular chest could expand even farther. The man really was huge. And yet, he didn’t give off the kind of “danger” vibe she associated with very big men. There was something … quiet about him. And that something was very attractive.

“It’s not that easy,” he said.

“Oh, making the cake isn’t easy, but I promise you it’s worth the effort.” She deliberately misunderstood him. Keep him off balance, she told herself. He’s not sure what to do about you, so keep him that way, she told herself.

“The job, Daisy,” he said, and waved her over onto one of the couches. “Offering you this job isn’t that easy.”

“Sure it is. You offer, I accept. Easy.”

He took a seat on the chair opposite her and braced his elbows on his knees. “When Sam was telling you about the job, did he bother to mention the survival test?”

She blinked. “Survival test?”

“I didn’t think so.” He scrubbed one hand across his face. “You see, there’s a policy here at King Adventure. All new hires have to spend the weekend on the mountain with me. They have to prove they can make it here. Prove they have some survival skills.”

Daisy set Nikki down onto her lap and stroked the little dog’s back. Her mind was racing and her stomach was churning. Survival? All she knew about surviving on a mountain was finding a good hotel with a nice fireplace and room service. Why in heaven should a cook have to prove herself in the wild?

Anxiety pumped through her system and her positive thoughts began to crumble like broken cookies. But even while doubts slapped at her, she knew she couldn’t give up on her idea before she even really got started.

“No,” she said, “I didn’t know about that.”

“See?” His voice was kind, his eyes shone with relief and the patient smile on his face only irritated her immensely. “It just wouldn’t work out, Daisy.”

“Well,” she shot back, “it’s not like you’re going to drop me off in the middle of nowhere with a knife and a piece of string. Are you?”

One corner of his mouth lifted briefly. “No.”

“Then I can do it,” she said, covering her own doubts with a veil of confidence.

Now he simply shook his head. “No, you can’t. Hell, you couldn’t take a few steps across the lawn without falling on your face.”

She flushed and felt the heat of it stain her cheeks. “That was an accident.”

“And out in the forest, an accident like that one could kill you.”

“Then I won’t let it happen again,” she argued.

“Damn it, why won’t you listen to reason on this?”

“Because I need this job,” she told him flatly, fingers curled protectively around Nikki. “My roommate got married and I couldn’t keep the apartment on my own. My old job was downsized when the owner hired his cousin’s nephew as head cook and—” She broke off quickly because she wasn’t about to beg. And she wasn’t the kind of woman to go all weepy, either, using tears to get her way.

“It’s been a rough couple of months,” she said simply. “So when I heard about this job opening, it seemed perfect. It is perfect. And I think I should get the same chance to prove myself as any other employee here has had.”

He pushed himself out of his chair and stalked a few paces off. Glancing at her over his shoulder, he said, “It wouldn’t be easy.”

“No,” she agreed, already dreading being out in the great outdoors. “Probably not.”

“Why are you so determined to do this?”

“I told you why,” Daisy hedged. “I need the job.”

“If you’re that good a cook, you could work anywhere.”

“I want to work here.”

“Which brings me,” he said tightly, “back to the original question. Why are you so determined to work here?”

She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders and said softly, “Because you knew Brant.”

He rubbed his face again in irritation. “I know it’s not easy, losing family.”

“My only family,” she corrected and hated that her voice broke on the words. “Brant and I only had each other. When he died, I was alone. And I don’t like alone.”

Which was the absolute truth as far as it went.

She couldn’t give him the whole of it, now could she?

She’d already admitted that she really did have nowhere else to go. She had no one. Her brother, Brant, had been her only family. Daisy was completely on her own now. And she hated it. She watched other families and felt her heart ache. She watched mothers with their children and something inside her wept. Daisy really wanted love in her life again. But she didn’t want another man.

No, thank you. She had both been there and done that and hadn’t even gotten the T-shirt. She’d convinced herself a couple of times that she was in love and it had ended badly. She wasn’t interested in risking another broken heart. She wouldn’t set herself up for that kind of disappointment again. But she did want to love and be loved. She wanted to have a family again. To be part of something again.

She wanted a child.

That thought settled everything inside her. Nerves drained away, anxiety faded and a cool, calm feeling swept through her. Whatever she had to prove to Jericho, she’d do it—for the chance at family. She’d made a decision and now she was going to go through with it. But he couldn’t know what was driving her. Daisy couldn’t very well tell him that she’d chosen him to be the father of her child.

If she felt a quick sting of guilt over the idea of tricking a man into being a parent, she smothered it a moment later. It wasn’t as if she was asking him to marry her. Or to even take an active role in the raising of their child. All she really needed from him was his sperm.

Which just sounds awful, she thought with an inward groan. But it wasn’t as callous as all that. She’d chosen Jericho because of his relationship with her late brother. Because he had been close to the only family Daisy had had.

And because Jericho King and the Marine Corps had stolen her family.

They owed her one.

“I don’t baby prospective employees.”

“Baby?” Daisy flushed, as if he were reading the thoughts racing through her mind.

Scowling, Jericho clarified. “I meant, I won’t make it easy on you.”

“Oh.” She laughed to herself, then shook her head. “I didn’t ask you to.” Oh, boy, she thought wryly, she’d probably regret saying that. He looked tough and she could only imagine that whatever he put her through to “earn” her way in wouldn’t be pleasant. But she’d made up her mind to come here. To make her dream come true. And nothing he could do or say would stop her.

“You’re as stubborn as your brother was.”

Daisy smiled fondly. “Where do you think he learned it?”

Damn it.

“I’m not asking for a favor,” she said quickly, wanting to speak up for herself before he summarily dismissed her. “I’m applying for a job I happen to be perfect for. I’m a terrific cook, you’ll see. All I’m asking for is a chance.”

In his letters home to her, Brant had often mentioned that Jericho King had the best poker expression he’d ever seen. Brant had insisted that no one ever knew what Jericho was thinking. Apparently, leaving the Marine Corps hadn’t changed that about him.

She didn’t have a clue what his thoughts were. Hers were very clear, though.

She needed to stay here. She fixed a confident smile on her face, while Jericho King’s blue eyes were locked on her. She wouldn’t let him see that the thought of a survival test terrified her. Wouldn’t let him know that she felt on edge. But everything she’d told him had been absolutely true.

His jaw went so tight she could actually see the muscles in his cheeks twitch. He wasn’t happy with the situation, but he wasn’t telling her to leave, so Daisy took that as a good sign. She pressed her case. “I can promise you that you won’t be disappointed by my performance as cook. I’m not asking for a handout, Mr. King.”

“Jericho.”

A good sign and she’d take it as such. Her smile brightened. “Jericho, then. All I’m asking for is a job. I can do it. You won’t be sorry.”

“No,” he mused as he walked back toward her. “But you might be.”

She huffed out a relieved breath. “Does that mean I’m hired?”

“Provisionally,” he told her. “There’s still the mountain test. I can’t let you off the hook for that one. Every employee here has taken the weekend in the wilderness. You’ll have to make it through, too. For now, I’ll show you where you can stay. Let you get settled, then we’ll head into the mountains in a couple of days.”

Daisy held on to Nikki and pushed up off the sofa. Her first goal had been met. She was still here. And Jericho had no idea that once she had a foothold, she’d never let go. She knew exactly what she looked like—a helpless female. Well, looks could be deceiving, she told herself. She’d been on her own for years. She’d practically raised Brant on her own and she’d done a damn fine job of it, too. She could handle whatever Jericho dished out and when it was all over and done, she’d still be standing. Plus, she’d have the right to be here, with the man she needed to help her rebuild her family.

She tipped her head back to look up at him and graced him with what she knew was a brilliant smile. “Thanks. Thanks for this.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he muttered and led the way out of the main room toward the staircase. “Before too long, I suspect you’ll be cursing the day you ever drove up here.”

Only, she thought, if she didn’t get pregnant.

It was a hell of a thing, Jericho told himself, when a man was reduced to sneaking around his own damn house.

He’d never been a coward. Men he’d served with in the Corps would be willing to swear that there wasn’t a damn thing in the universe that scared Jericho King. But here he was, avoiding one small, curvy woman as if she were Typhoid Mary and he was the last healthy man on the planet.

She’d already settled herself in as if she’d been on the mountain for years. Her idiot dog was scrambling up and down the stairs, those tiny claws tapping against the wood floor until it sounded like a swarm of crickets had been set loose in the house.

Even the air was different, he thought. The faint trace of her flowery scent seemed to hang on the air, flavoring every breath he drew.

Jericho was on edge and he didn’t like it. Hell, he’d arranged his life so that he dealt only with the people he wanted around him. After years of military living, he liked his privacy. Liked the fact that his clients came and went, hardly making an impact on his world at all. His employees knew when to back off and leave him alone, and when he needed a woman, he went out and found one.

Nothing permanent. Nothing lasting. Just a few good nights with great sex and some laughs. That was the way he wanted it. The way he needed it.

Yet now, everything had changed. In the space of a few hours, Daisy Saxon was turning his world on its head. And he only had himself to blame. He could have turned her out on her pretty little ass. Hell, should have.

But truthfully, he hadn’t been able to. The weight of what he owed her and her brother was still too heavy around his neck. Whispers of guilt, regret, slipped through his mind. If she knew the truth, she’d never have come here. So the only option for him was to agree to let her take the survival test on the mountain. Then she’d fail and leave and it wouldn’t be his doing.

He went down the back stairs figuring to grab something to eat so he could avoid the whole sitting-down-to-dinner situation. There was plenty of work for him to do. Paperwork piled up because he tended to avoid it whenever possible. So he’d lock himself into his study with a sandwich and avoid talking to Daisy until tomorrow.

He slapped one hand to the door, pushed it open and stopped dead. Damn it.

“Hi,” she called out from her spot by the stove.

She was wearing a pair of tight jeans, a yellow, long-sleeved shirt and an apron that was so large for her the strings were tied three times around her narrow waist. Not only was she here and cooking, whatever she had going smelled great.

“What are you doing here?” He stepped into the room and glanced around. “Where’s Kevin?”

“Oh, I told him I’d fix dinner tonight. He’s going into town to see his girlfriend.”

Jericho scowled at that. Not only did she take over his damn house, she started giving his employees the night off.

“You know, I didn’t even realize you had a town close by. Imagine that, I got lost for what felt like hours and never saw the town?” She shook her head and laughed a little. “Must make it easier than driving all the way down the mountain when you need supplies.”

He just stared at her. The woman talked more than anyone he’d ever known.

“It’s not a problem that Kevin left for the night, is it?” she asked, watching him warily. “I only thought that since I’m going to be taking over his job soon—”

He narrowed his eyes on her. “That hasn’t been decided yet.”

“Oh, I know, but I believe in positive thinking.”

“Uh-huh.”

She smiled again. “Yes, I can imagine what you think of it, but affirmations can really make a difference in your life. Think it, be it, you know.”

“What?”

She laughed again and the rich, throaty sound rolled through the room and settled over him like a blessing.

“I just mean, you put out into the universe what you want to happen and it generally will.”

“The universe.”

“Sure. If all you do is think negative thoughts, then it’s hardly surprising when you only experience negativity, right? So, same goes with the good stuff. Imagine you’re happy doing exactly what you want to do and the universe will find a way to provide you with that dream.”

He shook his head. “So the universe is going to help you through the mountain tests?”

“You bet!” She stirred the contents of a stainless steel pot on the stove. Instantly, even more unbelievably tantalizing aromas drifted into the air. “I’m envisioning myself succeeding and gracefully accepting your congratulations.”

He smiled in spite of everything. She seemed so damn sure of herself. How were you supposed to argue with a woman who thought she could arrange her life simply by thinking?

The scent of whatever she was cooking reached him again and Jericho’s stomach rumbled in appreciation, but he wasn’t about to be seduced by a pot of soup. “You go ahead and keep imagining. I’ve got actual work to do. I’m just going to make a sandwich, then I’ll be gone.”

“Sandwich?” she said, and looked horrified at the notion. “That’s not a meal for a man like you. I think we can do way better than that. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll fix you a snack that will hold you over until dinner.”

He thought about refusing. He really didn’t want to spend any more time around her than he absolutely had to. Especially if she was going to be spouting all of her New Age bull. But if he walked out now, she’d know he was avoiding her and he wasn’t about to let that happen.

Instead, he walked to the high bar table at the back side of the cooking island and took one of the tall seats. He watched her as she pulled an oven door open and reached in with a hot pad to pull out a cookie sheet dotted with what looked like golden-brown half pies.

“This is an amazing kitchen,” she was saying. “This warming drawer for instance. Keeps food hot but doesn’t continue to cook them. And oh, my. The refrigerator shelf under the island—” She shook her head, patted her heart and sighed. “Keeps all of your vegetables right next to the sink and the cutting boards.” She laughed a little and did a more dramatic sigh. “And I’m not sure, but I think I had an orgasm when I saw the Sub-Zero fridge.” She caught herself, winced a little and gave him a sheepish smile. “Did I just say that out loud?”

“You did,” he told her and wished he hadn’t heard her. She said the word orgasm and his body went on red alert, instantly prepared to show her just what an orgasm should really feel like. At the very least, she wouldn’t have had to wonder if she’d had one or not.

“Sorry,” she said and walked to a cupboard for a plate. “I get a little emotional about great kitchens, and let me tell you, this one’s a beauty!”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t care. Until he’d hired Kevin to cook for them, the most the kitchen had seen was a lot of microwave action from him and Sam and the others who lived here. As long as the kitchen held a fridge for food and beer and provided a sink and ready fire, that was all he needed to know. Jericho remembered the kitchen remodel he’d done to the place years ago, but he’d simply turned the designer loose and hadn’t asked any questions.

Their clients were served simple food and plenty of it. No one had ever complained. Now though, he gave it a quick look, following her pleased gaze. He took in whitewashed plank walls, dark cedar cabinets, dark green granite counters and a gleaming wood floor. There was an industrial-size cooking range, double ovens, a couple of microwaves and a refrigerator big enough to hold supplies for a battalion. That wasn’t even counting the two big freezers situated in the butler’s pantry.

Overhead lights banished shadows, and through the wide windows on every wall, night was creeping its way across the mountain. Inside, though, the oversize room was feeling a little cramped at the moment.

She was standing just opposite him on the other side of the island. In front of her was more granite and a snaking stainless sink that served, as he recalled Kevin telling him once, as an “entertaining sink.” Apparently, you could stock drinks in ice at one end of the sink, then as the ice melted, it simply drained away.

Didn’t impress Jericho any. A cooler was just as good.

“You seem to have found your way around,” he said finally, when he noticed she was simply staring at him waiting for him to say something.

“I have. It’s like exploring an amazing new country.” She slid open the refrigerated drawer, plucked something from inside and dropped it onto a plate beside a pie she’d already taken from the cooking tray. “Now, I want you to try this and I think you’ll be glad I talked you out of having a sandwich,” she said, sliding the plate across the counter toward him.

Jericho shifted his gaze from her to the plate and back again. “What is it?”

“It’s good,” she said, giving him a teasing smile. “Honestly, don’t you have any adventure in your soul?”

“I’ve had plenty of adventures,” he countered. “I just don’t usually include food in them.”

Still, he thought, it did smell good, not that he was going to admit it anytime soon. The half-a-pie was still steaming and alongside it sat a small bowl with a couple of radish roses, curls of carrot and celery beside a small dish of what looked like ranch dip. He lifted his gaze to hers. “Raw vegetables? Not a favorite.”

“I’ll make a note,” she said with a shrug. “But for now, you could eat them anyway. They’re good for you.” Then she waved at the plate. “Try the pasty.”

“Pasty?” One eyebrow lifted. “Not the definition of pasty that I’m familiar with.”

It took a second to register, then she blushed—actually blushed, for God’s sake—chuckled and that soft sound rippled through the room. “I can imagine. But this is a meat pasty. They’re from Cornwall, originally, I think. Some say it pah-stee,” she said. “Wives made them for miners’ lunches. They were easy to carry and hold and satisfying enough to take care of a hardworking man’s hunger.”

Jericho nodded absently as she talked. Picking up the half pie, he sniffed it again, almost suspiciously, then took a bite. The piecrust simply dissolved in his mouth and the filling was … He groaned.

Daisy gave him a bright smile. “You like it!”

“You could say that,” he muttered around another mouthful. He really hated to admit it, but she was a hell of a cook. “It’s great.”

“I’m so glad. I made them to go along with the homemade soup. I know soup isn’t a very substantial meal, but with the fresh bread and the pasties …”

He held up one hand. Clearly extreme measures were needed if a man was going to get a word in edgewise. “You made fresh bread?”

“It’s just a couple of loaves of quick bread.” She sounded almost apologetic. “That way I didn’t have to wait for the yeast to rise.”

“Right.” She’d only been here a few hours and she’d made soup, bread and this incredible pie he couldn’t stop eating. Kevin was a good enough cook, but he didn’t have half the drive this one small woman did. Plus, he wasn’t exactly adventurous with his cooking, which was, frankly, one thing Jericho had liked about him. But, if this pasty of hers was any indication, he had a feeling “adventures in food” was going to be a good thing.

And, he had to admit, she might look like a flighty little thing, but she sure as hell wasn’t afraid to work. She’d done more in a couple of hours than Kevin managed to do in a day. To be fair, Kevin probably would have enjoyed doing more, but cooking for a bunch of men probably sucked the creativity out of him. Daisy was still fresh enough that she was excited about her work.

While she talked, Jericho nibbled on the raw vegetables, surprising even himself. He’d always been more of a meat-and-potatoes man by choice. And frankly, being in the military had pretty much flattened his taste buds long ago. Food there was fast and plentiful. Cooked to keep a man on his feet, not to have him lounging around a table tempting his palate. But whatever kind of dip this was she’d concocted for the vegetables was damn tasty and the pie was good enough it could bring a grown man to his knees.

As if she could read his mind, she wagged her index finger at him and said, “You’ll like my soup, too. Soups are actually one of my specialties, which will work out really well up here during the winter.”

“What kind of soup?” he grudgingly asked, since he was being tempted by the satisfaction filling his stomach at the moment.

She turned around, went back to the stove and lifted the lid on the pot again. Steam rushed up, carrying an amazing scent. “It’s beef and barley. I found all of the supplies in the fridge and the pantry and it’s so brisk and cold out right now, I thought soup would be good for tonight.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said, already looking forward to sampling it as he finished off the pasty and wished he could get another one.

“I have got great recipes for tomato soup and chicken and leek—”

“Leek?”

She glanced at him. “You’ll like it, I swear.”

He probably would, he thought and warned his stomach not to get used to the good life.

“Anyway, when it snows up here, there’ll be lots of good, hearty soups and breads and stews. Then in summer, you’ll love my barbecued chicken wraps and—”

He cut her off before she could get too wound up. “Don’t be making long-term plans just yet.”

“Affirmations, remember?” she countered with a grin. “As for dinner, I’ll do even better tomorrow night. What would you like? Pot roast? Pasta? Chicken enchiladas? Do you have any favorites?”

God, his mouth was watering just listening to her. Between her looks and her abilities with a stove, she was definitely double trouble.

Then she stopped and whirled around to look at him. “Better—what do you hate?”

A reluctant smile curved his mouth. Hell, he had to give her points for tenacity. He’d given her an inch and she was quickly scrambling to take the whole damn mile. He admired that in anybody. And for a woman alone, fighting to make a place for herself, it took even more guts to stride right in, settle herself and immediately go to work carving out her own niche.

But as much as she wanted this job, heck, as much as he’d like to get accustomed to eating this well, he couldn’t let that happen. For her own sake.

And he almost regretted that fact.

Almost.

There’s not much I won’t eat,” he finally admitted. “But we’re not interested in anything fancy up here. I’ve gotten used to eating simple, plain food. Plus, it’s better for the clients when they’re here. Roast beef is going to give a man more energy on the mountain than a plate of snails.”

“Ew. Snails.” She smiled and shuddered. “No worries in that department, I promise.”

“Okay, good.” He finished off the pasty and thought about grabbing another as he watched her move around the kitchen. She sure as hell looked as if she knew what she was doing. Of course, he’d read her references, but tasting what she could do with food was different than reading about it.

He nibbled at the carrot and celery curls, dipping them in the accompanying sauce. She was a good cook, but that didn’t mean she would make it here. Hell, he told himself, look at her.

His gaze locked on her, he noted her delicate but curvy build. Her hair was in a ponytail that swung back and forth across her back like a pendulum with her movements. She was humming something just under her breath and when she opened a cupboard and reached for something, Jericho was treated to a glimpse of very pale, very smooth skin displayed when her blouse hitched up.

His mouth went dry and his blood stirred. Damn, it had been too long since he’d indulged in a long weekend of sweaty sex. And now that that thought had taken root in his mind, he was picturing Daisy Saxon in his bed, that thick, soft hair of hers spread across his pillow. Her smile aimed at him as he moved in for a long, languorous kiss. Her breath sliding from her lungs as he entered her.

Instantly, he shut down that train of thought and squirmed uncomfortably on the bar stool. He didn’t need her here. Didn’t want her here. Couldn’t have her here.