Out of Hours...His Feisty Assistant. Heidi RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.
came out on a silly little squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again. ‘Um, good morning.’
He stopped stirring, turned slowly and gave her an easy smile. ‘Morning.’ He nodded towards the breakfast bar and pointed at one of the stools with the spatula. ‘Take a seat. Breakfast’s done.’
She didn’t move. ‘What am I doing in your penthouse?’ she said blankly, trying hard not to be charmed.
Why was he cooking her breakfast? And what exactly had happened last night? All she remembered was passing out. She’d woken up from a deep, dreamless sleep ten minutes ago to discover herself in his bed with only a few scraps of underwear on, the mid-morning sunshine peeking through the curtains on the huge picture window.
It didn’t look good.
‘We’ll talk after we eat,’ he said, dishing the eggs onto plates already loaded with bacon and toasted muffins. ‘You want to grab the coffee?’
She didn’t want coffee, or breakfast for that matter. Her stomach was tied in greasy knots of apprehension. The only thing she did remember was making a complete fool of herself last night—swooning like the heroine in a bad B-movie. But she had absolutely no clue as to what had happened afterwards.
Had they made love?
If they hadn’t, why was he being so friendly now? He’d as good as ordered her off the premises last night in the bar.
If they had, she didn’t think her pride would ever recover.
Zack transferred the plates to the breakfast bar, which he’d already laid with cutlery and glasses of orange juice. He frowned when he looked up.
She was still rooted in the doorway.
‘Okay, spill it, whatever it is,’ he said, sounding exasperated. ‘I spent twenty minutes cooking breakfast—I don’t want to eat it cold.’ He placed the coffee pot and a couple of mugs next to their plates and waited.
Kate had always believed in being direct. Still she had to force the words out. ‘Did we sleep together last night?’
His eyebrows shot up and then he laughed. Kate’s back stiffened like a board. He slid onto one of the stools, keeping his bare feet on the floor, and poured himself a cup of coffee, still chuckling.
Heat rose in Kate’s cheeks. She wrapped her arms round her waist. ‘What’s so funny?’
He looked at her over the cup, still grinning at the private joke. ‘Sweetheart, you’ve given my ego some major-league hits in the last couple of days.’
The self-deprecating shake of his head and the warmth in his voice made Kate relax a little. ‘How so?’
He took a gulp of his coffee, put the cup down and patted the stool beside him. ‘Sit down and I’ll tell you.’
She hesitated, then walked to him and lifted herself onto the stool. Propping her feet on the foot bar, she tugged the silk over her bare legs.
He put a hand on her knee. She tensed, only too aware of the warm pressure through the cool silk, and the clean, devastatingly familiar scent of him.
‘All I’m saying is, when I make love to a woman, the lady usually remembers it in the morning.’ He lifted his hand. ‘And I don’t take advantage of women when they can’t say no.’ He fixed his eyes on hers. ‘You were out cold last night. So I took one of the other bedrooms.’
‘Oh, well, that’s good.’ She should have been relieved, but for some inexplicable reason she wasn’t, quite. ‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome,’he said, picking up his fork. ‘Now, eat up.’
She did as she was told, suddenly at a loss as to what to think. Okay, so they hadn’t slept together, but why was he being so nice to her, then? They’d hardly been on good terms the night before.
As soon as she tasted her breakfast, Kate’s appetite pushed the doubts to one side in a surge of hunger. She tucked into the light fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon and hot buttered muffins, savouring every delicious bite. She was polishing off her second cup of coffee when she noticed he’d finished his breakfast and was watching her.
She put down her cup.
‘I see you found the robe,’ he said casually. ‘It suits you,’
Kate looked down at the luxurious blue silk kimono embroidered with a flame-breathing dragon down one side. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she murmured, pulling on the lapels. ‘Whose is it?’
As soon as she’d asked the question, she wished she could take it back. No doubt one of his other conquests had left the silk robe behind. She knew she had no claim on him, but somehow the thought of sitting in his kitchen in some other woman’s clothes made her lose her appetite.
‘I was given it on a business trip to Japan,’ he said, refilling his coffee-cup. ‘Over there, guys wear those things, too. It’s not really my style, though.’ His gaze wandered over her figure. ‘It looks better on you.’
Kate let out the breath she’d been holding, and then felt annoyed by her reaction. Why should she care who the kimono belonged to?
She wiped her mouth with her napkin. ‘Breakfast was delicious, Zack. Thanks, it was nice of you.’
‘Not really,’ he said, his expression unreadable. ‘I owed you an apology.’
‘You did?’ Why did she feel as if she was missing something vitally important here? ‘What for?’
‘For behaving like a jerk yesterday morning and last night in the bar.’
She blinked, surprised by the admission. She had assumed apologies weren’t his style any more than silk kimonos were. ‘Apology accepted, then.’
Time to leave, she decided, before she let that smouldering look get the better of her again. Popping off the stool, she reached for his plate.
He took her wrist, stilled her hand. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I thought I’d clean up, before I go.’
‘No need,’ he said, turning her hand over. ‘The housekeeping staff’ll get it later.’ He stroked his thumb across the pulse point, making her shiver. Then he lifted her hand to his lips and bit softly into the pad of flesh at the base of her thumb.
A sharp dart of desire shot straight down to Kate’s core.
‘Don’t,’ she said, curling her fingers into a fist. She tugged on her hand.
His eyes locked on hers, making her feel both trapped and needy. ‘Why not?’ he said, his voice gentle but firm. ‘What are you afraid of, Kate?’
You, she thought, the panic making her throat constrict. It had been hard enough walking away from him yesterday morning. Kind and considerate were the last things she would have expected from him. They pulled at a place deep inside her she didn’t want pulled at. There was nothing between them except one night of spectacular sex, and it would cost her if she ever forgot it.
‘I have to go,’ she said, struggling to ignore the jackhammer thumps of her heartbeat. ‘I need to check out of my suite today, and then I have to find another job.’
He let her hand go, swore under his breath. ‘Why are you so hung up on paying your way?’
‘I’m not hung up on it.’ She’d rather die than tell him the real reason—it was far too personal. ‘It’s just, it’s important to me, that’s all.’
‘Yeah, I get that.’ Frustration hardened his voice. ‘I was the one who stopped you falling on your face after you’d worked yourself into a coma, remember.’
The words came out harsher than Zack had intended. When he saw her flinch he could have kicked himself. Here he was trying to persuade her to stick around and he’d blown it, already. How did the woman get him worked