Easy Love

by Kristen Proby

  No response.

  Declan glances back down to me. “I really don’t mind calling the gig off tonight and settling you in.”

  “I’ll be fine, Dec.” I grin and pat his chest. “Where will you be playing?”

  “The Voodoo Lounge.”

  “I might just show up.” I push up onto my tiptoes and kiss his cheek.

  “I don’t want you wandering around the French Quarter after dark.”

  “I’ll take her,” Eli offers, earning a speculative look from Declan, who then gazes down at me and kisses my forehead softly.

  “I’ll save a seat for both of you then,” he replies with a happy smile. “Have a good afternoon. Don’t let the boss man run you ragged.” He winks at me and grins at Eli, then slips back out the door.

  “You and Declan are close,” Eli says when I turn back around. His hands are still in his pockets as he rocks back on his heels.

  “Yes. He, Savannah, and I were sort of the three amigos in college.”

  “Are you planning on fucking him?”

  “Excuse me?” I feel my jaw drop as I stare at the formidable man before me. I prop my hands on my hips and glare at him. “That’s none of your darn business.”

  He purses his lips as though he’s trying not to laugh. “It’s none of my darn business?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  He tilts his head and looks like he’s about to say more, but then he saunters to my suitcase and pulls it behind him, as he gestures for me to follow him.

  He’s kicking me out?

  “Miss Carter, I’ll be out the rest of the day. Reschedule my appointments.”

  His assistant gapes at him and then sputters, “But, Mr. Freemont has been waiting…”

  “I don’t care. Reschedule. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Eli calls the elevator, his eyes never leaving me as we wait for the car to arrive. “Do you have a change of casual clothes in here?”

  “Yes. The rest of my things are being shipped down and should arrive tomorrow afternoon.”

  He nods and motions for me to lead him into the elevator.

  “Eli?”

  The air literally crackles around us as he glances down at me and raises a brow. He’s barely touched me and my body is on high alert and my mind is empty.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To your place.”

  “You know where my place is?”

  “I own it, cher.” He sighs and finally reaches over and tucks my hair behind my ear, making me shiver. “Are you cold?”

  “No.” I clear my throat and step away from him. “If you’ll just give me the address, I’ll take a cab to my place.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of endangering your life again,” he replies with a half-smile, and every hair on my body stands on end. Good Lord, what this man can do with a smile.

  I need to get my hormones under control. It’s simply been too long since I got laid, that’s all. And I’m not going to scratch this particular itch with this particular man. He’s my boss. My best friends’ brother.

  No way, nohow.

  “You coming?” he asks.

  Yes, please.

  I realize the elevator has opened and he’s standing next to me, waiting for me to go first.

  “Of course.”

  “Of course,” he chuckles. “We can walk it…it’s not far, but it’s hot out, so we’ll drive.”

  I nod and follow him to his sleek, black Mercedes, which he expertly drives down the narrow streets of the French Quarter. I can’t help but practically press my face to the window, trying to take in everything I see at once.

  “It’s so beautiful,” I murmur.

  “Have you been here before?”

  “No. I can’t wait to walk around and soak it all in.”

  He parks less than three minutes after we set off, and kills the engine. “We’re here.”

  “Already?”

  “I told you, it’s not far.”

  “I could have walked that, even with the heat.”

  “It’s not necessary to make you uncomfortable,” he replies simply and climbs out of the car, gathers my bag, and with his hand on the small of my back, leads me up to a loft that sits above an herb shop called Bayou Botanicals. I can smell sage and lavender as Eli unlocks the front door and ushers me inside, where I stop on a dime and take in the beautiful.

  The outside of the building is well kept and beautiful with worn red bricks and green iron railings, but the inside is brand new and simply opulent.

  “I’m staying here?”

  “That you are,” he confirms, his accent sliding along my skin like honey. “You’ll consider this your home while you’re with us. Here are your keys.” He passes the keys to me, then turns his back and leads me to the kitchen, which boasts brand new appliances, dark oak cabinets, and matching granite countertops. “The bedroom is through there,” he continues, and leads me into a beautiful room with a four-poster bed. “The linens are clean and fresh. The bathroom is there.” He points to the left, but my eyes are stuck on the doors that lead out to the balcony, which offers a beautiful view of the street below and Jackson Square just a block away.

  “There are times that it gets noisy with music and people, but there’s never a dull moment in the French Quarter.”

  I nod and turn back to him. “Thank you. Shall we go back to the office?”

  “It’s mid-afternoon, Kate. Take the rest of the day to settle in.”

  “Oh, but, I’m here to work. Surely, I could—”

  “It would look odd to bring on a new hire in the middle of the day, don’t you think?”

  Of course it would.

  I smile sheepishly and nod. “You’re right. I’ll work from here.” I toss my jacket onto the bed, pull my laptop out of my briefcase, and walk briskly into the kitchen. “It’s going to be a process.”

  “Kate, I don’t want—”

  “I’m not going to be able to just dig in and start investigating. Van’s right to give me an assistant position, but that’s going to be even tougher.” I tie my hair back off my face and lower into a kitchen chair as I talk briskly. If I talk about work, I won’t be ogling him, and thus losing more brain cells.

  “Kate.”

  “I’m going to have to play by the rules for a while, a couple weeks at least. I need people to trust me, so they’ll open up to me.”

  “Kate.”

  “I—”

  “Enough,” he says sharply.

  Chapter Two

  My head whips up to stare at Eli. He shoves his hands in his pockets and swears under his breath as he hangs his head then glances back up at me, looking at me like he doesn’t really want to be here, and he’s not quite sure if he likes me.

  “You don’t have to stay,” I inform him stiffly.

  “I don’t expect you to work today at all, from here or the office.”

  “Why ever not?” I lean back in the chair and frown up at him. “You’re paying me to work.”

  “You’ve travelled all morning, Kate. Settle in. Eat something. In fact, let me take you out to eat something.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “I do.” He removes his suit jacket after taking his sunglasses out of the inside pocket and drapes it over the back of the sofa. He rolls the sleeves of the white shirt that molds over his muscled torso all the way up to his elbows, unbuttons the top two buttons, and removes his soft blue tie. “That’s better. Go change into something more comfortable, and I’ll feed you the best jambalaya you’ve ever had.”

  “I’ve never had jambalaya before,” I reply with a raspy voice. I can’t tear my eyes off his broad shoulders.

  “This will ruin you for all other jambalaya; I promise you.”

  I frown and meet his gaze, trying to figure him out. “Are you sure?”

  He nods and waits expectantly. I have a feeling not many people say no to Eli Boudreaux.

  “I’m not going to sleep with you.” The words are out of m
y mouth before I can reel them back in. I feel my face flame, but I tilt my chin up and square my shoulders firmly.

  “I didn’t invite you to,” he replies calmly, but his eyes are full of humor.

  I nod and walk back to the bedroom to change into a light summer dress, slather on sunblock with SPF 4000 to protect my white, freckled skin, and then rejoin Eli, who is now looking out my windows.

  “You’re always looking out windows,” I remark with a smile. He turns to me and his eyes heat as he looks me up and down, and I suddenly feel very exposed.

  “You’ll burn, cher.”

  “I’m wearing sunblock.”

  “Do you always argue?” he asks.

  “I don’t argue.”

  He holds my gaze for a moment and then tosses his head back and laughs, shakes his head, and leads me out into the hot afternoon.

  “Let’s go this way first.” He turns to the left and rests his hand on the small of my back again, ever the gentleman, walking me down Royal Street. If you’d asked me yesterday if I thought I’d be walking in the French Quarter with the sexiest man I’d ever seen by my side, I would have told you to consult a doctor.

  And Eli Boudreaux is sexy. But he’s not mine, and he never will be. He’s my boss, and he’s being kind.

  I take a deep breath, determined to pull my head out of the gutter and enjoy New Orleans, when Eli pulls me into a trendy shoe and accessory shop called Head Over Heels.

  “Shoes!” I exclaim, already salivating. Okay, so the man is showing me shoes. I might sleep with him after all.

  “Hats,” he corrects me.

  “Holy crap, what are you doing here?” A woman with short, dark hair and full lips smiles from behind the counter.

  “Kate needs a hat,” Eli replies and grins as his sister launches herself into his arms and holds on tight.

  “Been a minute,” she whispers in his ear in the same New Orleans drawl. Eli grins.

  “You saw me at Mama’s last Sunday.”

  “Been a minute,” she replies and steps back, smiling at me. “Hi, Kate. It’s good to see you again.”

  “You too, Charly.” I’m pulled into another hug—the Boudreaux family is an affectionate bunch, and the middle sister, Charlotte, is no different from the rest.

  “What can I do for you two?”

  “Kate needs a hat,” Eli repeats.

  “I do?”

  “Oh, yes, sugar, you do,” Charly replies with a nod. “We need to keep the sun off your face and shoulders. Let’s see…” She leads us to the back of the shop and pulls three hats off the wall, all wide-brimmed and pretty. “I think green is your color, with that beautiful auburn hair and your pretty green eyes.”

  “Thank you, but this hair is about to be a curly tangled mess with all this humidity.”

  “I know the feeling. I’ll make a list of hair products to use while you try these on.” She jogs back to her counter as I plop the first hat on my head. It’s pink, not quite as widely brimmed as the green, and makes me look like a mushroom.

  “Try the green one,” Eli suggests, but instead I pull on one with a rainbow of colors. It looks like a box of Crayolas exploded all over it. Eli just watches me in the mirror with humor-filled eyes and crosses his arms over his impressive chest. “You do have beautiful hair.”

  “Thank you.” His jaw ticks. If he doesn’t like giving out compliments, why does he say anything at all?

  “Oh no, dawlin’, the green one,” Charly says as she rejoins us. I smirk as I put the green hat on and sigh as I realize that she and Eli were right.

  “Looks like this is the winner,” I say with a grin. “I’ll take it.” I pull my wallet out of my handbag, but Eli lays his hand over mine and shakes his head.

  “Bill me,” he tells Charly, who smiles and nods happily, while handing me a list of hair products to try, waving at us as Eli leads me back out into the heat. “Feel better?”

  “Hmm,” I murmur, but, oh, God, yes, it feels so much better. “Thanks for the hat.”

  “You are welcome,” he replies, his accent making me squirm again. I met this man just a few hours ago, and so far, everything he does makes me squirm.

  Not good. Not good at all.

  “Tell me about yourself,” I say, surprising myself. All I know is, I need to get my brain on something other than the mass of testosterone walking next to me. We cross the street, me on the outside, and Eli immediately trades places with me, tucking me next to him away from the street. “Chivalry isn’t dead,” I whisper.

  “No, dawlin’, it’s not.” He flashes me a quick smile before leading me to a café with beautiful courtyard seating.

  “It’s surprisingly cool in here,” I murmur after we’re seated.

  “The trees keep it cool,” the waitress says with a smile. “Need a minute with the menu?”

  “Do you eat seafood?” Eli asks me.

  “Yes,” I reply.

  “Good. We’ll both have the seafood jambalaya, please.”

  The waitress nods and walks away, leaving us alone.

  “Now, tell me more about your plans to catch the person stealing from my company.”

  “You didn’t answer my question first,” I reply, and butter a piece of the bread the waitress just set down for us.

  “What question?”

  “Tell me about you.”

  “I don’t matter.” His voice is calm, but sure. Final. He leans back, folds his arms, and shutters immediately close over his eyes.

  Interesting.

  “It’s your company, so yes, I do believe you matter.”

  “All you need to know about me is that I’m your boss, you’ll be paid timely, and I expect nothing but your best on this job.”

  I set my bread on a small white plate and lean back, mirroring his pose with my arms crossed. “Actually, I believe it was Savannah who hired me, and I don’t ever give less than my best. Ever.”

  He raises a brow and cocks his head to the side. “Beau, Savannah, and I hold equal shares and equal interest in the company. All three of us are your bosses, Kate.”

  “Understood.” He watches me for several minutes. I can’t figure him out. He has moments of being so kind, nice, and I think he may be attracted to me, and then the walls come slamming down and he’s distant, impersonal, and borderline rude.

  Which is it?

  Not that it really matters, because starting tomorrow I’ll answer to Savannah, and I’ll hardly ever see the mysterious and sexy Eli.

  I hope.

  I tilt my head back, close my eyes, and take a deep breath of the thick New Orleans air. There’s a light breeze now, cooling my heated skin. The trees above are green and lush, and I can see sprinkles of sunshine as it fights its way through the leaves.

  Our meal is served and I stare down at the bowl of rice, shrimp, mussels and a bunch of stuff I can’t make out dubiously, then glance up to Eli, who has already dug into his bowl heartily.

  “You won’t regret it,” he says simply, and shovels another spoonful into his mouth. I watch his square jaw as he chews, and then glance back down at my own bowl.

  Why not? I take a bite and my gaze finds his in surprise. “It’s good.”

  “I wouldn’t feed you something bad, Kate.” He chuckles and reaches for the bread. The jambalaya is delicious, and I’m hungrier than I thought, devouring the bowl in just a few minutes. Finally, I sit back and pat my flat belly.

  “That was great.”

  When the bill is paid and we’re back on the sidewalk, walking back toward my loft, Eli glances down at me, and then sighs and pushes his hand through his hair.

  “How did you get into your profession?” he asks softly.

  “Oh, we’re talking about ourselves now?” I raise a brow. “Look, you don’t have to be nice to me. It’s okay if you don’t like me. I’ll do my job, very well I might add, and be out of New Orleans in four to six weeks.”

  “Four to six weeks?” he asks incredulously.

  “Yes. I told
you earlier, it takes time to settle in, gain my coworkers’ trust and confidence. I can’t just sit down at a desk and start pilfering through files. I’m supposed to be a new hire, on the down low, remember?”

  He shakes his head thoughtfully. “I didn’t think it would be that involved.”

  “It’s harder than it looks; otherwise, you wouldn’t need me.”

  “Who said I don’t like you?” he asks abruptly.

  “What?”

  “You just said ‘it’s okay if you don’t like me.’ What makes you think I don’t like you?”

  I stop on the sidewalk, stare up at him for a long minute, and then chuckle at the bewildered expression on his wickedly handsome face. “It doesn’t matter, Eli.”

  I begin to walk again, and he hangs back, walking just a few paces behind me. I can hear the wheels turning in his head from here.

  Finally, we reach my door. I glance back at him as he catches up to me. “Thanks for the hat, and for the meal.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I turn to let myself inside and move to shut the door, but Eli nudges his way inside and pushes the door shut behind him.

  “Um, come on in?”

  “I do like you.”

  I roll my eyes and toss my handbag on the couch, my hat on top of it, and see his jacket and his tie where he left them earlier.

  “Oh, you almost forgot—”

  Eli’s very firm chest presses to my back as he reaches around me and takes the coat out of my hands and sets it aside, then swivels me around to face him.

  “I do like you,” he repeats. When I would look down, he catches my chin with his finger and tilts my head up. “But this is a bad idea.”

  “What is?” I whisper, hating the shakiness in my voice.

  “This.” He lowers his face to mine and sweeps his nose across my own, gently. His lips haven’t touched mine yet, but they’re tingling, already yearning for him. His hands glide up my bare arms to my neck, his thumbs gently draw circles along my jawline as he places a light, barely-there kiss on the corner of my lips. I hear a soft moan, and would be mortified to know that it came from me, if I could find my brain cells.

  This man is dangerous. Everything about him screams RUN! but instead, I grip onto his lean hips and tug him closer. He needs no further invitation. He slips those amazing lips of his over mine, licks my bottom lip, and when I gasp at the fission of pure lust that moves through me, he moves in for the kill.