Heidi Betts – The Jarrods: Inheritance: Taming Her Billionaire Boss (страница 17)

Blake stood there for a minute looking at Samantha, his eyes flicking down over her outfit then away. “I could do with a shower,” he muttered, and made for the stairs.

She felt nervous all of a sudden. She twisted away herself. “I’ll just make sure the food’s okay.” She left the room and went into the kitchen, glad that Andy was still gathering a couple of things together before he left. It brought the world back into focus and took it away from her and Blake. She needed the balance.

Andy left and she busied herself unnecessarily checking on the casserole, then poured herself a glass of water and stood there sipping it to calm her nerves. She could only stay in there so long, and soon she wandered back into the lounge area and drew the drapes against the encroaching night, before switching on the lamps.

It was too quiet, so she put on a CD to fill the silence and sat down on the couch to wait. The wood scent from the burning logs in the fireplace wafted throughout the room, and after a few minutes, she could feel the soft music begin to ease the tension inside her. And then it hit her and she realized how romantic the whole place looked. She groaned slightly. It hadn’t been intentional but would Blake believe that? It all looked so intimate.

Panicking that he might think she was trying to seduce him, she was about to about to jump up and turn off the music when she saw Blake coming down the stairs. He wasn’t looking at her and she ate up the sight of him. He was so handsome in light gray pants and a navy crewneck sweater, but it was his magnetic aura of masculinity that caught her breath.

He reached the bottom step and all at once he glanced up and his gaze quickly summed up the ambiance in the room. She could feel warmth steal under her skin. This guy never missed a trick.

“You must be tired,” she said, hoping to ignore what he might think was obvious.

“A little. It’s been a long day.”

And then their eyes met—memories of this morning between them.

She moistened her mouth. “Blake, I—”

He shook his head. “Not yet, Samantha. Let’s eat first. I’m starving and I need to relax a little.”

“Of course.” She swung toward the kitchen. “I’ll serve the dinner.”

“I’ll pour the wine.”

She hurried away, expelling a shaky breath once she reached the privacy of the kitchen. Blake wouldn’t discuss the matter until he was ready, so she would just have to have a little patience. Perhaps it would be best if she had some food in her stomach first.

When she came back carrying the plates of chicken casserole, he was sitting at the table, having poured the wine. He stood up as she approached and took the plates from her. He’d always been a gentleman where she was concerned, holding out her chair or opening doors for her. She knew it was something he did on autopilot.

“You lit the candles,” she said for something to say. “They look really nice.”

He put the plates down on the table. “Andy knows his job.”

She wasn’t sure if that meant Blake had asked for them or if Andy had merely improvised. Did it matter, she asked herself as he held her chair out just as she’d expected.

As she sat down, she glimpsed the tulips on the side table. That was probably why he’d looked at her strangely before going upstairs to change. He must think her so ungrateful.

“Oh, Blake, I should have said something earlier. Thank you so much for the tulips. They’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“You like them, then?” He looked pleased as he sat down opposite her.

“I love them.”

He considered her. “You getting hit on the head was very good for me.”

She blinked. “It was?”

“I learned two things about you. What your favorite flower is, and your favorite color.”

“Want to know my favorite perfume, too?” she joked, touched by his words.

Only he didn’t laugh. “It’s Paris by Yves Saint Laurent,” he said with an unexpected thickness to his voice that made her nerves tingle.

“You know?”

“You bought some the first time we went to Paris together, remember?” He made it sound like they’d been together in Paris for something other than business.

Surprised he remembered that time two years ago when she’d first gone to work for him, she dropped her gaze and fanned her napkin over her lap, though she rather felt like fanning her face instead. “This looks delicious.”

There was a slight pause. “Yes.”

She could feel his eyes on her as she picked up her fork and finally looked at him again. “So, what was the problem in Vegas that you needed to go there in such a hurry?”

A moment ticked by then he picked up his fork. “There was a problem with one of the chefs. He was being a bit too temperamental, and the kitchen staff was threatening to walk out. It was beginning to escalate into a big commotion with the unions. It started to get ugly.”

“And it’s sorted out now?”

“Of course.”

She had to smile. “Naturally. You wouldn’t have come back otherwise, right?”

Suddenly there was an air of watchfulness about him. “What happened to your date with Joel tonight?”

She’d wondered if he’d mention it. And then something else occurred to her. Could he have arranged to get Joel out of the way tonight? The thought made her pulse race. “His cousin’s in Aspen for the night and he wanted to spend time with her.” She tilted her head. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”

His brow rose. “Me? Am I that good?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed on a half chuckle.

A flash of humor crossed his face. “Believe me, I’m not that clever.”

It did sound silly now. Blake could make things happen, but this time he’d have to find Joel’s cousin and get that person to come to Aspen. Why would he bother? He knew he merely had to send her flowers and arrange dinner and she’d capitulate like every woman before her.

“Anyway, how are you feeling?” he asked.

“Terrific.”

He searched her face, then inclined his head as if satisfied. “At least you only worked half the day.”

Her eyes widened. “How do you know that?”

“I checked with Erica. She said you’d left at lunchtime.”

She smiled wryly. “Did she also tell you she checked on me nearly every hour after that?”

“She promised me she would.”

Why was she not surprised? “That was a bit over the top, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t think so.”

She tried not to look more into it than there was. He probably wanted her all better so he could get rid of her faster. Then she knew that wasn’t fair of her and she pulled her thoughts back into line. “You always were concerned for your staff, Blake. Thank you.”

He looked at her strangely, as if he couldn’t understand why she was putting herself in with the rest of his staff. But if that were the case, didn’t that mean he was thinking she was something more to him than she actually was?

God, she had to stop thinking so much!

She picked up her wineglass. “You know, Blake. Erica isn’t as bad as you imagine her to be. I suspect she’d still have kept an eye on me even without you asking her.” She took a sip of her drink but watched him carefully over the rim of her glass.

His brows furrowed. “I guess so.” As much as he appeared to concede the point, he didn’t look totally convinced about Erica’s intentions.

Samantha understood why. “You think she’s only doing something nice for a reason, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Has it occurred to you that the reason is you?” She let him consider that, then added, “Maybe she wants to get to know her brother, and she knows the only way she can do that is to show him she is willing to help him out?”

“Maybe.” He paused. “But she cares for you, too.”

She felt a rush of affection for Erica. “And that goes to show she’s a nice person and worthy of your friendship … if not your love.”

His lips twisted. “The hit on the head seems to have muddled your brain. You think you’re a psychoanalyst now, do you?”

“Where you’re concerned I have to be,” she said without thinking, but knew it was her mention of the word love that had got his back up. Love and Blake Jarrod did not go hand-in-hand.

And neither did Samantha Thompson.

Not with love.