The Scandal (Billionaire's Beach Book 4) - Christie Ridgway Page 0,46
an even deeper pink, and she looked a little panicked around the edges.
“It was nice of you to bring me my jacket,” he continued.
She visibly relaxed, then turned back to the counter, removing cookies from a baking sheet with a spatula to join others on a rack. “Yes, well, I thought it a shame you didn’t have any covering.”
It was his turn to stiffen. Was she—? Oh, hell, she was. She threw him a small but wicked smile over her shoulder. The saucy butler was being bad again by alluding to his lack of condom. Which only made his thoughts detour to the kind of intimacy he’d settled for instead. In his mind’s eyes he saw her body, splayed on the bed, the dark blue panties and bra yanked low to give him access to her flesh.
“I warmed up quick, however,” he murmured.
“Not too quick,” she added.
Oh, this was getting more dangerous by the second. Between the innuendo and the actual memories, his body was reacting like a man who had a second chance.
And there wouldn’t be a second opportunity to play in Sara’s bed.
It wasn’t smart. It wasn’t fair.
It was what he wanted more than any fucking thing.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes and tried thinking of igloos and icicles. He recalled the cold glass of water he’d downed at Charlie’s.
“By the way,” he said, “the three of us are invited to have dinner with Charlie and Wells at their house tomorrow night. She said another friend—Emmaline—will be there, too.”
At the long silence, he opened his eyes to find Sara staring at him in some alarm. “We can’t do that,” she said.
“Why not?”
“You’re…me… I work for you. You’re my employer.” She wiped her palms on her apron. “We shouldn’t socialize.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Did they teach these prissy, stuffy rules at the Continental Butler Academy?”
“Well…”
“Charlie extended the invitation. She didn’t seem bothered by the idea.”
“You’re not her boss.” Sara stubbornly shook her head as she pointed at him and then at herself. “We shouldn’t socialize.”
He gnashed his teeth. They’d sexualized, right? How come that line could be crossed but not this one? And though some logical part of him acknowledged he might be courting trouble with this, he wasn’t operating on logic now. The chocolate chip cookies might have something to do with it. Or the way the XX in the house turned him upside down.
“Maybe we need to practice,” he declared.
“Practice?”
“Socializing. We have a night before we take our act public.” He glanced over at Essie, still consumed by whatever was on her phone. Texts with the boyfriend? Photos of friends doing something interesting or something outrageous?
Suddenly that frustrated him, too. His little sister, so free with her “I love yous,” and he didn’t know what went on in her phone, her head, her life. That had to change.
They’d get away from this house and cell phones and other distractions. “You ladies are going to put on your prettiest party clothes tonight.”
Now two pairs of eyes stared at him, blue and brown. Essie’s expression said he’d finally captured her interest.
“You’re taking us to a party?” She glanced at Sara who wiped her hands on her apron again but didn’t comment further.
Good. “I’m taking you two out to dinner. Be ready at seven.”
Sara watched Essie slide hangers along the bar in her closet.
“You must have something in here beyond your butler-masquerading-as-a-librarian wardrobe,” the girl said.
Freshly showered, hair shampooed and dried, Sara tightened the belt on her robe and watched the teenager look over her clothes with a critical eye.
“I appreciate your assistance, Essie, but…”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I have great fashion sense.”
Right now the teenager was wearing tiny cut-offs with a Mickey Mouse tank top. On her feet were red high-top sneakers, and she’d tied a red-and-black plaid shirt around her waist. For a modest touch, Sara thought, because the hem hung past her butt cheeks that those short shorts would surely put on display any time she bent over.
Though there was nothing remotely close to that in Sara’s closet, the idea of Essie picking her dinner outfit still made her nervous. The whole idea of the dinner out made her nervous! Yes, Essie would be there, and her chatter would keep the event from turning totally awkward, but Sara couldn’t get comfortable with the idea.
Earlier, with the shower’s spray shooting down on her head, she’d decided on a vow. No making a fool of herself by word, deed, or thought.