Compromising Positions. Kate Hoffmann
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second thought, I could have been wrong,” Sam murmured. “Maybe that wasn’t the bed in the corner room. I may have confused things.”
Minerva looked back and forth between the two of them. “I’d like to send Wilbur over to take a photo. How long do you think it will be before the two of you are in bed together?”
“I’ll leave that up to Ms. Sheffield,” he said.
“No comment,” she murmured, her cheeks flushed with color.
“I have enough for now, anyway,” Minerva said. “I know how to contact both of you. If I need anything else, I’ll drop by.” She sighed. “Wilbur’s going to want to get this on the noon news.” Minerva tucked her notepad into her pocket and hurried out the front door.
They stood in silence for a long moment before Sam clapped his hands. “All right,” he said. “We’re on. I say we meet back here at noon with everything we need and then we’ll get started.”
“All right,” Amelia said, tipping her chin up. “The battle for the bed starts at noon. May the best...person win.” She held out her hand and he shook it.
She was ready to leave it at that, but he wasn’t. Instead he slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her against his body. His lips covered hers in a deep, damp kiss, their tongues creating a delicious connection he didn’t want to break. When she pulled away, he looked down into her wide eyes.
“May the best man win,” he whispered.
Her expression hardened and she wrapped her hand around his nape and pulled him into another kiss. Her mouth was soft and searching, her tongue tracing the width of his mouth, teasing him in a way that was more provocative than he expected.
The blood in his body warmed and desire flooded his senses. His hands skimmed along her torso and settled on her hips, holding her against him. The friction between them caused an instant reaction in him.
But Amelia wasn’t about to let him take control. She stepped away and gave him a coy smile, her lips still damp and glistening. “Don’t you mean the best woman?”
* * *
AMELIA WATCHED THROUGH the plate-glass window as Sam drove away. When he was finally out of sight, she turned to the bed. By her estimate, it would take about a half hour to disassemble it and get it loaded into the trailer. If he came back at noon, that would give her a half-hour head start to Boston; a half hour before he even realized she was gone.
She didn’t regret deceiving him. This was war and she had to use whatever advantage she was given. He’d have done the same thing given the opportunity. She hurried over to the bed and examined it. Getting the canopy off on her own would be difficult, but once that was done, the rest of the bed would come apart quickly.
She crawled up on the mattress and began to untie the stays on the fabric covering. Struggling with a knot, she had a brief flash of conscience, then reminded herself that all was fair in love and war.
Her mind skipped to the kiss they’d shared earlier. His powerful and demanding; hers defiant and daring. Somehow she’d allowed desire to become part of their battle and it wasn’t helping her gain the upper hand. Every time he touched her, she felt weak, vulnerable, and yet so amazingly alive that she wanted to cry out. Her body pulsed with a need so powerful it threatened to sweep her away. She’d never experienced anything remotely similar when Edward had kissed her, and he was supposed to be the love of her life.
Her parents had never seemed to share any passion between them and Amelia had always assumed that those emotions were saved for the privacy of their bedroom. But now she realized that it was impossible to hide such intense reactions. She felt her need with every breath she took. She wanted Sam to kiss her, to touch her, to throw her down on the bed and have his way with her.
She cursed softly as she worked at the knot. Amelia Gardner Sheffield was not the kind of woman who wielded her sexuality to get what she wanted. Until she’d met Sam, she hadn’t been aware that she had that power at all.
But was it a power she wanted to wield? She could soften him up; make him more amenable to her. And once he’d fallen for her, he’d want to give her the bed. But she’d been manipulated her whole life. She didn’t want to do that to someone else.
“You need any help with that?”
The voice startled her and she spun around quickly, losing her balance. A man stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest. He chuckled, then held out his hand. “Benny Barnes. I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Oh,” Amelia cried, stumbling off the bed. “This is your place. No, we haven’t met. Amelia Sheffield. Mapother Museum of Decorative Arts. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“So you’re the one fighting with Sammy over this bed,” Benny said. “No one mentioned you were such a pretty little thing.” He grinned widely. “Can I give you a hand?”
“You could help me take this bed apart and move it into my trailer,” she said.
Benny shook his head. “Nah, I’m afraid I can’t do that. Unless Sam gives me the word, the bed stays here.”
“I see,” Amelia said. “You’re a friend of his?”
“This is a small town, miss. Everyone is friends with everyone else. Minerva filled me in on the whole situation. I have to say, you’ve got your work cut out for you. That Sam is used to getting what he wants. We went to high school together. He was a few years younger than me but, yeah, we were good buddies. Wasn’t as popular as me or as smart, but we hung out.”
Benny puffed out his chest and continued to talk about his high school exploits, nodding and smiling as if she were impressed. Maybe he thought she was. After all, she had invited herself to spend the night in his place of business.
“I’d like to thank you for allowing this to play out in your front window.”
“No problem. It’ll bring a lot of attention to my business. As a thank-you, why don’t you let me take you out to lunch? Or how about dinner? I can show you around town, introduce you to the right people.”
“There is one thing you can do for me,” Amelia said with a warm smile. “I could use a sheet or something to hang over the front window. For privacy.”
“Well, you can’t do that,” Benny said. “What would be the point? I gotta promote the hell out of this thing.”
“Well, I can’t just change in front an open window... Is there a bathroom?”
“There’s one in the back, but it’s a little rough. I live upstairs. You’re welcome to use mine. I’ll just leave the door unlocked and you can come up whenever you need anything.”
Amelia sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. And I don’t want to keep you from work. I know you’re a very busy man around town.”
“No,” he said. “Not so busy.”
She stood. “Well, then, maybe you can keep an eye on the bed while I go out and pick up a few things? I would really appreciate the help. And I don’t trust Sam Blackstone.”
Benny looked vaguely disappointed but he shrugged. “Sure. I’ll be around for the next hour or two.”
“You won’t let Sam take the bed?”
“Nope,” Benny said. “I’m your man. You can count on me...Amelia.”
She grabbed her purse and headed for the front door, grateful to make her escape. Given time, maybe Benny could be convinced to transfer his loyalties to a new friend. There was nothing to stop her pleading her case to him. That wouldn’t be dishonest, would it?
She headed to the inn to gather up her things. Then she’d have to stop by the local discount store for new bedding and pillows and something to keep her fed. Amelia was willing to give the strategy a few days, and if Sam