Compromising Positions. Kate Hoffmann
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in the attic.”
“I’ll take you on a private tour,” he said.
“I’d like that,” she said. Amelia looked and realized they’d made a big dent in the pie. “I think I’d come back here just for the pie.”
“It’s an authentic Colonial recipe,” he said. “Right down to the lard. My sister believes that if you’re going to stay in an eighteenth-century inn, you need to be prepared to eat like they did then.”
“I admire that you’ve dedicated yourselves to authenticity. It’s honest and pure.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Amelia finally broke her gaze away from his and stood, placing her hands flat on the counter. “I should go to bed.”
“When are you going back to Boston?” he asked.
“When my bed is packed in the trailer,” she teased. “Do you want to get rid of me? That’s how you can do it. Pack it up and I’ll be out of here.”
“No, I don’t want to get rid of you,” he said with a grin. “I’m starting to like having you around. You make things interesting.” Sam reached out and took her hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you up to your room.”
They strolled through the dining room and the keeping room, the old plank floors creaking beneath their feet. When they reached the second floor, she had to walk ahead of him through the narrow hallway. They stood in front of her door for a long moment and Amelia noticed how dark it was in the hallway—how private, intimate.
He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her head. “It’s been an interesting day,” he murmured, his gaze scanning her features in the dim light.
“Yes, it has,” Amelia said.
“Kind of a change of pace for me.”
“Really?”
Sam nodded. “You’re the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” His gaze moved to her lips. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispered, leaning close. His lips brushed against hers. It was so sweet, so simple, that she wanted it to go on forever. But Sam seemed determined to leave her needing more. He stepped back and smiled. “Good night, Amelia. Sleep tight.”
“Sam?” she called out.
He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Do you kiss all your guests good-night?”
He chuckled softly. “No. You’re the first.”
He continued down the hall. Amelia’s knees started to buckle and she leaned against the door for balance. This was what Sam Blackstone did to her. He kept her completely off balance, until she really wasn’t sure what was up and what was down. And she was starting to enjoy the feeling.
* * *
JERRY HAD CALLED early that morning with the news that he’d spoken to Abigail Farnsworth and she’d made a decision. He’d asked Sam to meet him at the warehouse. When Sam had asked about Amelia, Jerry had told him that he’d contact her, as well, but Sam decided to take the initiative.
He climbed the stairs to the second floor, a mug of hot coffee in his hand, and walked down the hall to her room. He paused, his mind rewinding to the kiss they’d shared in the predawn hours.
Sam had never been an impulsive guy, especially when it came to women. But Amelia was unlike any other woman he’d met. From the moment he’d set eyes on her, he’d felt as though a clock had begun ticking, measuring out the minutes and hours they had together.
He had no time to contemplate every move he made. When he’d felt the urge to kiss her, he’d had to act. To his surprise, she’d seemed pleased that he’d kissed her. But he wondered if that feeling would survive the light of day. Well, he was sure he could find a pleasurable way to convince her.
Sam rapped on the door and waited. A few seconds later it swung open and Amelia greeted him with a soft, “Hi.” She brushed the dark strands of her hair out of her eyes and smiled.
“Morning,” Sam said, holding out the coffee. “I wasn’t sure how you took it. Black. I hope that’s all right.”
“Perfect,” she said.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about. Do you have a few minutes?”
“What time is it?” Amelia asked.
“A little past eight.” Sam paused. “I just got a call from Jerry. He wanted me to meet him at the warehouse. He has news from Abigail.”
“How did he know I was here?”
“He didn’t,” Sam said. “And he didn’t specifically ask that you be there. But I think you should, since whatever he has to say will affect you as well as me. So, I’m going to leave in about ten minutes. If you want to hear what he has to say, meet me down in the lobby.”
“I do want to know,” Amelia replied. “Thank you.”
He shrugged. “No problem.” Sam stepped back into the hall and, when the door clicked shut, cursed himself softly.
He should have stepped into the room, wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her. It was the last chance he’d probably have. Once Amelia found out that the bed was his, she’d immediately head home to Boston.
Sam reached out to knock on the door again but pulled his hand away. He’d make sure there’d be a quiet moment for them sometime before she drove off. Sam turned and walked downstairs. Sarah was just going through the reservations as he passed.
“You’re up early,” he said.
“We’ve got that wedding coming in this weekend and I wanted to get a jump on the preparations. I hope you’re going to be around today. Our other guests are leaving in the next few hours. I’m going to need your help.”
“Sure. I just have to run over and see Jerry about the bed. Then I’m free. When Amelia comes through, tell her to meet me outside in the truck.”
“Yes,” Sarah murmured. “I will tell the piece of work that you’re awaiting her in the truck.”
He gave her a dismissive glare and she laughed. Was he that obvious? If Sarah had already picked up on the fact that there was something going on, then the whole town would probably have it figured out within a day. Even more reason to step up his plan to get to know Amelia more intimately.
Sam was still cleaning out the front seat of his truck when Amelia hurried down the porch steps. Yesterday she’d been chic and aloof. Today, dressed in jeans and a fleece pullover, she looked relaxed...and beautiful.
Sam ran around to her side of the truck, opened the door and then helped her in. As he closed the door, Sam realized that he’d missed another chance to kiss her—and he had very few of those chances left.
Cursing softly, he got into the truck and turned to her. Slipping his fingers around her nape, he gently pulled her toward him. Amelia didn’t offer any resistance, and by the time their lips met, hers were slightly parted.
She tasted like sweet toothpaste, cinnamon and coffee. His fingers tangled in her hair as he pulled her more deeply into the kiss. His mind spun and for several long moments he couldn’t make himself think rationally. He wanted to stop; he knew he had to. But the kiss continued to spin out of control as they groped for closer contact.
He couldn’t explain the attraction. It was part physical, part intellectual. Yes, she was out of his league, but that didn’t seem to stop him. Maybe if he could understand what drew him to her, he could find an excuse to stop himself.
Finally Amelia pulled away. She stared out the front windshield, her breath coming in tiny gasps.
“Good morning,” Sam murmured.
A tiny smile quirked at the corners of her mouth. “Good