Linc shook his head. “She doesn’t need my permission. She’s free to do whatever she wants with her weekends.”
All eyes turned in Claire’s direction as he finished speaking, and she felt like a rabbit that had stumbled into a wolves’ den.
“Then I guess my answer is yes,” she said, eager to escape a situation that had suddenly become awkward and embarrassing. More than anything, she wished the scene with Linc and Honey hadn’t played out in front of these women. Gossip around town already had it that there was something going on between her and Linc. Thanks to his arrival, it was pretty obvious that Claire and her employer were friends and possibly a little too comfortable with each other.
As she left, her gaze fell on Bettina. Linc’s mother wore a slight frown. Claire returned to the kitchen, hoping Bettina wasn’t concerned that Linc had babysat Honey.
“Thank you for watching Honey for me today so I could concentrate on getting everything ready,” she said. “If you want to leave her with me and head out...”
“I don’t have anything else to do this afternoon, so I’m happy to hang out with her until you’re done here,” Linc said, setting Honey on the ground and finding her a couple pots and a wooden spoon. He then demonstrated drumming on the cookware and the toddler set to work making noise.
“Thanks,” Claire mumbled, rinsing the last of the plates and loading them into the dishwasher.
While she finished up, Linc leaned on the counter and surveyed the leftovers. “How did the tasting go?” He reached out and snagged one of the appetizers, popping it into his mouth. “This is fantastic. What is it?”
“Puffed pastry with caviar.” Claire dodged around Linc and began packing up the leftovers. “Your mom liked everything.”
“Terrific.” He tried a tartlet with goat cheese and fig and moaned appreciatively. “Then why are you upset?”
“I’m not upset.”
“Is it because they badgered you into catering the charity polo match next week?” He grinned at her over a shot glass of gazpacho. “Don’t do it if you think it’s going to be too much.”
“It isn’t that...” She trailed off, not wanting to get into her concerns right there in his mother’s kitchen.
“Is it the reason my mother is having the party?” He lowered his voice until only she could hear him. “Are you worried that I’m going to meet someone? Because if that’s it, you don’t need to give it a second thought. I’m only going through the motions to satisfy my mother.”
Claire stopped what she was doing and gave him her full attention. Was she acting like she was jealous? They’d slept together only once and she hoped she’d been clear about it not becoming a habit.
Yet, if she investigated her churning emotions, she suspected the fear in her heart had little to do with concern over whether his next serious relationship would want the live-in housekeeper fired. Claire suspected she was well on her way to falling for her handsome, charming employer.
“You need to take her matchmaking more seriously,” Claire said, denying the truth staring her straight in the face. “She has only your best interest at heart.”
“That doesn’t sound like the sort of advice I’d expect from a woman who had her world rocked by me a few nights ago.”
“My world rocked?” Claire repeated in a barely audible whisper while glancing toward the hall that led into the dining room. Embarrassment and desire warred inside her. “Can we not talk about this here?”
“Relax.” His voice was a husky rasp across her senses. “No one can hear us.”
“Nevertheless.” She tried for crisp and professional but came across tremulous and disturbed. Her breath hitched as his fingers tugged at her chef jacket, making the fabric slide across her overly sensitive skin. “Linc.”
“You know it’s going to happen again. Tonight, I think.” His eyes glittered, making it impossible for her to look away.
“I don’t know that.” But she wanted it to. So badly. Her entire body screamed for him to kiss her. Caution was quickly drowning beneath the flood of desire. “Linc,” she almost pleaded. “It was supposed to be one and done. Just two people who turn to each other in a moment of weakness.”
She managed to tear her gaze away and shot a glance toward the dining room. To her relief, no one was skulking in the butler’s pantry, listening to them, but she really didn’t want to talk about this anymore.
“Weakness?” He took his time tasting the word. “Yeah, I guess that sounds about right. When it comes to you, my willpower is shot to hell.”
“Linc, please.” She was begging now through clenched teeth.
“Those were your exact words that night.”
“Oh, Linc...”
The heat scorching her cheeks wasn’t caused by the temperature in the kitchen. She hungered to take hold of Linc’s knit shirt and drag it over his head. To feel his hands slide beneath her chef whites and claim her breasts.
He set his palm on the kitchen island and leaned toward her, pitching his voice to a sexy murmur that made her muscles bunch in anticipation.
“‘Oh, Linc...’ I’m going to make you say them again,” he vowed, his whole manner leaving no doubt that he wouldn’t stop until she’d given him everything he wanted. “And again.”
Pledge delivered, he stepped back, leaving her quaking and achy and oh, so ready to do anything he asked. From the satisfaction glinting in his eyes, he knew what his words had done to her. A second later, he scooped Honey into his arms and carried her out the kitchen door, and Claire watched after him, a trembling bundle of unsatisfied longing.
Seven
The opportunity to lure Claire back into his bed failed to materialize in the days that followed the tasting at his mother’s house. Claire was completely engrossed in preparations for the party, and while he missed spending time with her, Linc appreciated her passion and wanted her to shine. At least that was what he told himself as his ache for her grew.
At eleven
