Sam’s next internet stop was for handheld games for the kids, then fancy compass watches for the guys. In a matter of minutes, he spent more than the GDP of several small nations. She pulled up an extra chair and sat down.
Sam was generous, which shouldn’t have been news. Dellina might not admit it to him, but she’d been busy reading the book Taryn had given her. The one written by Sam’s ex-wife, Simone. In it she’d shared a lot of personal information—the kind that would make Sam cringe. But what came out in the pages was that Sam was a great guy. Dellina was left with the impression that Simone had been a fool to let him go. She had a feeling she wasn’t the only one who had thought that after finishing the book.
He ordered a few more things, then turned to her. “Done. What else can I help with?”
She motioned to the menus posted on the walls. “Let’s talk about those.”
“It’s what I live for.”
She smiled. “You’re in a happy mood. Is it the shopping? I thought guys hated shopping.”
“I don’t like stores, but I enjoy the internet. I get to conquer from a distance. It’s satisfying.” He stood and crossed to the menus she’d posted on the walls.
She joined him. “Okay, Friday night dinner.” She pointed out the drawing that was to represent the table in the private room. “I added your parents to the guest list,” she began.
Sam sighed. “Did you have to?”
“I thought I should. Would you rather they weren’t there?”
“Yes, but you’re right. They’ll show up whether we invite them or not.”
While she understood he didn’t want to think about either of his parents attending the weekend, she couldn’t wait to meet them. Taryn and Larissa had tried to scare her, but she knew better. Still, it would be interesting to meet some of Sam’s family.
She pointed out the names on the paper. “Kenny and Jack aren’t bringing dates. Larissa doesn’t want to come to the dinner. Taryn’s bringing Angel. So this should be the final count.”
“You’re missing one.”
She frowned. “I am? No, I’m not. I’ve been over this like fifteen times.”
He shook his head. “You’re not on the list.”
“But I’m not attending the party.”
“You’re going to be there all weekend, aren’t you?”
“Sure, but coordinating things. I’m working behind the scenes.”
“You should be at the dinner.”
“It’s for your company and your clients. I’m not part of either. It would be like me planning a wedding and then sitting at one of the tables.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
She laughed. “It’s not how it works. I’ll be there making sure your weekend runs smoothly. But that’s all.”
He looked back at the list. “It’s a stupid rule.”
“Many of them are.”
“I wouldn’t bring a date.” He was still staring at the names and the tiny drawing of the table, then he turned his attention back to her. “We kissed.”
“You and me?”
“Is there anyone else in the room?”
She met his dark gaze and couldn’t decide if she wanted to move closer or step away. Which wasn’t exactly true. She knew exactly what she wanted to do. The question was more about which action was smart.
“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I was seeing someone else.”
“Good to know,” she whispered. “I feel the same way.”
“So there’s no mystery guy?”
She smiled. “I told you that before. Not only because that’s not my style but because this is Fool’s Gold and we don’t have secrets here.”
“I didn’t know about the rabbits.”
“That doesn’t make them a secret.”
She didn’t feel as if she was moving, but it seemed that she and Sam were standing a little closer than they had been. And he wasn’t bothering to look at her lists anymore. All of his considerable attention was focused on her.
The intensity of his gaze made her shiver—but not because she was cold. Just the opposite. The room had gotten warm and she was having a little trouble catching her breath. He didn’t help the situation when he reached out his hand and cupped her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed, which was why she had no warning when he leaned in and kissed her.
The feel of his mouth on hers stole away the last of her breath and made her knees go weak. Generally Dellina fought being a cliché, but this time she didn’t mind very much. Not when Sam’s warm mouth claimed her with a combination of need and passion that had her sliding her hands up his chest and surrendering to the inevitable.
Good thing because he hauled her against him, wrapped both arms around her, tilted his head and thrust his tongue into her mouth.
She met him stroke for stroke, losing herself in the wanting that flooded her. Her body burned with both arousal and hunger. She wanted to touch him everywhere, but more important, she wanted him touching her. She wanted skin on skin. Only his fingers or mouth could make her stop aching so much. Except in that one place. There she needed more than his mouth or his hands.
He kissed her deeply, claiming as he offered. She let her fingers roam across his shoulders and down his arms. He stroked the length of her back. For a second, she thought...hoped...he would slide around and cup her breasts. Or more. Instead he kept kissing her, brushing his tongue against hers until it was all she could do not to beg.
Before she could, he drew back slightly and rained soft kisses on her cheeks, her chin and then on her lips. He tucked her hair behind her ears, then kissed the tip of her nose.
“You’ll be at the dinner,” he told her. “Do I make myself clear?”
She nodded because speaking was impossible.
“This can’t happen again,” he said. “We’re working together. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
And with that declaration, he left. She stared after him, then sank into her chair and tried to catch her breath. Sam Ridge was not an easy man to know. But he sure knew how to make an exit. She might not date very much but she’d been around enough to know that was not a quality an intelligent woman sought in a man.
CHAPTER EIGHT
FAYRENE ABSENTLY RUBBED Caramel’s back as she studied the list her sister had given her. The schedule with the kids wasn’t overly aggressive, she thought. There were plenty of activities to entertain them. She was there to provide supervision. After all, Dellina had hired several teenage girls who had recent babysitting experience to help. Now to get Ryan involved.
Because having him help with the kids was part of her plan. The dinner with Pia and Raoul had turned into a disaster. No way he could see the wonder of a loving family when the wife in the relationship couldn’t stay awake past six o’clock. But that was in the past. The party would be exactly what they needed.
She glanced at Ryan, who sat on the sofa, watching a baseball game. He looked up at her and smiled, then muted the sound and patted the couch cushion next to him.
“Game not that interesting?” she asked as she carried Caramel with her and plopped next to him. The dog immediately jumped onto his lap and stood on her tiny hind feet to kiss his chin. Then she flopped down in his lap and went to sleep. Fayrene cuddled close.
“The game’s okay,” Ryan said as he kissed her. “You’re better.”
She leaned against him. “You’re sweet to me.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” She glanced back at the table. “I’ve been over the schedule for the kids’ events. It looks doable.”
“You know I’m happy to help. Just tell me when to be where.”
“You don’t mind being around a bunch of children?”
He chuckled. “Nope. It’ll be good practice for us.”
Fayrene told herself to stay relaxed. That she couldn’t read too much into what he was saying. Although if he did propose, that would solve all of her problems.
“Good for us how?” she asked innocently.
He grinned and kissed her on the mouth. “For when we’re married. Although we’re not going to have as many as will be at the party. How many is that?”
“Twelve.”
“Right. I’m thinking more like two or three.”
“Do you want boys or girls?” she asked, willing herself to stay calm.
“Both. Either. I don’t care.” He kissed her again, then picked up the remote. “Not that we’re going to talk about this anymore.”
Disappointment flared. “We’re not?”
“Nope. You made it clear you want to wait for us to get married and I promised I was fine with that.” The humor faded as he looked at her. “I mean it, Fayrene. What you want is important to me. I know you said talking about our future too much is like pressuring you. So let’s drop the subject and watch the game. Caramel is a Dodgers fan.”
Fayrene told herself not to stamp her feet in frustration. That Ryan was a great guy and only doing what she asked. She should be happy about that.
Only she wasn’t.
“I don’t think she is,” she managed to say. “I think she’s more into the American League.”
Ryan laughed, then reached down and rubbed the dog’s tummy. “Is that true, little girl?”
Caramel wiggled to get on her back and then closed her eyes and sighed with contentment.
* * *
DELLINA ARRIVED AT Sam’s office armed with folders and lists, but also with the determination that the two of them were going to have a serious talk. Last time she’d been overwhelmed by the offices themselves—the pictures, the obvious success and power flaunted. Now she barely saw the larger-than-life photos, although she was still going to have to worry about being dazzled by the man. But at least the number of her problems had been cut in half.
“I know the way back,” she told the receptionist, and walked purposefully toward Sam’s office. As she wasn’t stopped at any point, she must have been given the all clear by Sam or maybe Taryn.
She paused briefly outside his partially open office door, drew in a breath for courage, then knocked once and went inside.
Sam sat at his desk. He wore a long-sleeved white shirt with a tie. The tie was loose and the sleeves rolled up. He looked mussed and a little distracted, as if he’d been wrestling with a weighty problem. She had the brief thought that it would have been so much more fun for both of them if he’d been wrestling with her.
Before she could scold herself for getting off topic so quickly, even if it was just in her head, he glanced up and saw her. In that nanosecond before the walls came down, she saw the flash of desire. It was hot and bright and made her feel all quivery inside. Even after it was hidden, she knew what she’d seen. A little of her annoyance faded. They were still going to have to talk about what happened, but maybe she could be less shrill.
He rose. “Dellina. Did we have a meeting scheduled?”
“No, I stopped by. Do you have a minute?”
The question was offered out of politeness because she wasn’t leaving until they got their problem if not fixed, then at least managed.
“Of course,” he told her as he stood. He glanced at the tote bag she held. “Why don’t we use the conference table?”
Better than the sofa, she thought. Less sexy. With a table between them, she would have a chance to remember she was here about business. That she and Sam had a weekend party to get through and that whatever was going on between them would have to be dealt with after that.
They sat down across from each other. She did her best to ignore how the slightly disheveled look made him seem more approachable and therefore more appealing.
“You’re like Mr. Darcy,” she said without thinking.
His eyebrows drew together. “Excuse me?”
She did her best not to grin. Now that she’d had the thought, she couldn’t escape it. “Proud, remote, difficult to read.” She paused. “It’s not a bad thing. Most women like Mr. Darcy. He’s a Jane Austen character. From Pride and Prejudice.”
“I’m familiar with the work,” he said drily.
“You’ve read it?”
“And seen the movie. Yes.”
She desperately wanted to ask why. The movie made sense. Lots of guys were dragged to various versions by girlfriends, sisters and wives. But reading the book was a whole different story.
Interesting. But not why she’d stopped by.
She thought about pulling out papers to pretend they had official party business. But that felt too much like cheating. So she squared her shoulders, looked him in the eye and said, “You can’t do that again. Kiss me, make cryptic comments and then walk out. It’s not right. We have to work together. I need our relationship to be completely professional.”
Because after another night of tossing and turning, she’d figured out that she was under enough stress without having to worry about defining how things were with Sam.
“If there’s something you want to pursue between us, it needs to be put on hold until after we’re done with the party. Getting involved would be a distraction.”
“You’re right.”
She blinked. “Okay. About?”
“All of it.” His gaze never left hers. “I apologize for kissing you. I won’t say I’m sorry, because I’m not, but I was wrong. I put you in a difficult situation. We have a professional relationship, as you say. It’s important to focus on the job at hand. I don’t suppose telling you I’ve been tempted beyond reason will get me anything.”