Blackhawk Desires. Barbara McCauley
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do?”
“Yes.”
Still unsure, she tilted her head. “Which part?”
Sam folded his arms and sighed. “Chef Phillipe is a bully riding on the previous chef’s coattails,” he repeated her words. “He hasn’t a creative bone in his body and Robert is a good sous-chef. I already knew all that.”
“You did?”
“Yes, I did.”
She frowned. “So then why did you let me go on like that?”
Grinning, he leaned back against the door. “I was enjoying the show.”
Her frown darkened, then she suddenly went still and scanned around the room, confused. “This isn’t your office.”
He was wondering how long it would take her to notice. “No, this is not my office.”
She took in the living room area of the large suite and the kitchen. “This is your … ah, where you …”
“Live,” he finished for her.
She glanced back at him. “I don’t understand.”
“I wanted privacy.” He saw her breath catch when he pushed away from the door.
She shifted awkwardly. “I hardly think dragging me out of the kitchen in front of the entire staff is private.”
“Would you have come up here with me if I’d told you where we were going?”
“I—no.”
The beat she’d waited to answer was just long enough to make his pulse jump. She wouldn’t have said no, and they both knew it.
Yet still, he could see the inner war waging in her eyes: stand her ground or bolt. She was already running away from something or someone in her life. He had no intention of letting her run away from him.
Not anymore.
But she didn’t bolt, just stood still, kept her gaze level as he closed the distance between them until he was less than an arm’s reach away.
“You’re not pregnant.”
She jerked her head up. “What?”
“You’re not pregnant. You bought that test for someone else.”
“And why would I do that?”
She was on guard now. He’d come to recognize the look in her eyes when he approached a subject she clearly did not want to talk about. “Because Clair asked you to.”
“She told you that?”
He shook his head. “She didn’t tell me anything. It’s more of an uneducated guess. You just confirmed it.”
Her eyes narrowed sharply. “You tricked me.”
“I didn’t trick you,” he stated. “I’m simply trying to understand why Clair would ask someone she’s just met to buy a pregnancy test for her.”
“I really don’t see where that’s any concern of yours.”
“Fine.” He shrugged and started to turn. “I’ll just go ask her myself.”
“No!”
Sam turned back, watched her chew on the inside of her lip while she struggled with the proverbial rock and hard place situation.
“She had all the signs,” Kiera said finally. “I just sort of suggested she might be pregnant. She hadn’t considered the possibility until I asked her how far along she was.”
He raised a questioning eyebrow. “And she asked you to buy a pregnancy test for her?”
“If she’d bought it herself, how long do you think it would take for the entire town to find out?”
“Probably not even long enough for the stick to turn blue.”
“Exactly.”
“So did it?”
She started to say something, then quickly pressed her lips together.
He grinned. “Now that was trying to trick you.”
“Whether she is or she isn’t, and who she wants to tell when, is Clair’s decision,” Kiera said primly. “And I’d appreciate you not mentioning this conversation to her.”
“Geez, I don’t know.” He shook his head doubtfully. “This is pretty big news. It just might innocently slip out, you know, when I’m distracted or caught up in work.”
“Sam, please,” she said anxiously and reached out. “Don’t joke about this. Clair trusted me to keep this quiet.”
He glanced down at the hand she’d laid on his arm, wondered how the hell such a simple, innocent touch could make his blood rush. “I think I can manage to refrain from spreading gossip and rumors.”
Relief washed over her face, then she quickly pulled her hand from his arm and stepped back. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you would be anything but discreet. Obviously, you’ve already proven that you are.”
He knew she was talking about herself now, not Clair. “I’ve also proven I jump to conclusions.”
Linking her hands together, she glanced down at the floor. “If I had been, I mean, if I were pregnant, would you have, would it …”
When her voice trailed off, he moved closer, lowered his voice. “Would it have mattered?”
She lifted her head. “Yes.”
“You don’t know?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head. “The only thing I know is that I’m attracted to you, and I think you’re attracted to me.”
Attracted? He let the word roll around his brain for a moment. It seemed like such a mild description for what he felt toward her. Other words came to his mind … need, desperate, insane.
He lifted his hand and cupped her chin in his palm, felt her tremble at his touch. “I have three rules I live by,” he said softly, watched her eyes slowly close when he ran his thumb over her soft cheek. “Three rules I promised myself I’d always keep.”
Her eyelids fluttered open, and she met his gaze.
“Rule number one.” He traced her mouth with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t date employees.”
“Rule number two.” He cut her off when she opened her mouth. “Hotel policies apply to the entire staff.”
“Sam—”
“Rule number three.” He placed his index finger on her lips. “Don’t get emotionally involved with an employee.”
When she parted her lips, heat slammed into his gut. “I’ve known you less than two weeks,” he said, “and I’ve already broken every damn one.”
“You know,” she whispered, “since I’m no longer an employee, those rules don’t really apply anymore, do they?”
“No, I suppose they don’t,” he said, then grabbed hold of her shoulders and dragged her mouth to his.
Seven
Crazy.
Unbelievably, undeniably, wondrously crazy.
His mouth on hers, his arms crushing her against him, drove every rational thought from her mind. She didn’t want to think, and how could she, with her heart thundering in her head the way it was?
She was too damn tired to fight her emotions any longer. She wanted, needed, as she never had before. When his lips moved to her ear, she rolled her head back on a soft moan.
Pressing