by Cat Schield
“I suppose.” Although he wasn’t feeling particularly hopeful. “But it’s a long shot, don’t you think?”
“With that attitude, you’re probably right.”
“Is that criticism I hear?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t presume...” she trailed off and stared at him with worried eyes.
“Relax. I’m not going to take offense,” he told her. “I like to think you and I have become friends. And as such, I hope you feel comfortable telling me the truth.”
“Sometimes I don’t know how to be around you,” she grumbled. “We laugh and get along so well, but in the end, I am your live-in housekeeper. You pay my salary and I don’t want to step across a line.”
“I’d never fire you because you said something I needed to hear. I’m not like that.”
“Well, then, I guess I get to be more blunt.” She shot him a wry smile, but her eyes remained cautious. “Just out of curiosity, what would it take for you to fire me?”
“If you were stealing from me.”
“I’d never do that.”
“Disloyalty.” He noticed her confusion and elaborated. “Like if you decided to write a tell-all.”
“I’m not sure there’d be any money in it. I think you’re an open book. That’s one of the things I admire the most about you. Despite the fact that you’re a huge celebrity, you don’t have any skeletons or dirty laundry in your closet. And I should know, since I clean your house.” Her self-deprecating smile faded. “Since we’re on the subject of public awareness, I should probably mention something that happened to me earlier today.”
“What?”
“I met a woman at the grocery store who thought I was the reason you broke up with London.”
Claire’s declaration slammed into him like a fastball to the temple. At first, the words bounced around his stunned brain, but then he started to consider the implications.
“Do you know who she was?”
“Everly...” Claire shook her head. “I can’t remember her last name, but she gave me her card.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a small white business card. “Everly Briggs.”
He tried to recall if he’d ever heard of her before. “Why would she say something like that?”
“I don’t know.” Scarlet swept up Claire’s throat and flooded her cheeks. “She stopped me in the grocery store and we were talking about Honey, and then she noticed what I had in my cart and I accidentally told her I worked for you, and then she thought we were having an affair.”
Claire ejected the explanation in a rush, not pausing for breath. As she stumbled to a halt, he glimpsed mortification and horror in her eyes, but guilt as well. Suddenly he felt a little light-headed. Because she was so devoted to Honey, he’d always perceived her as a devoted mom, first and foremost. Plus, she was still in love with her dead husband.
So where was the guilt coming from? Did she secretly desire him? The notion delighted him and awakened a whole new realm of possibilities.
“What did you say?” he asked, curious how she’d handled the conversation.
Her lashes flickered. “I told her that was ridiculous. That’s not the sort of man you are, and there’s nothing going on between us.”
“Have you ever considered you’re wrong about the kind of man I am?”
“Of course not.” She looked startled. “You would never have cheated on London.”
“You’re right about that. Although, my reputation hasn’t always been stellar. Knox, Austin and I used to tear up this town. Drinking. Hooking up with random women.”
“But all that was before London. That’s not who you are now.”
Claire’s fierce defense of him made his chest tighten. He doubted she’d rush to champion him if she knew how she’d featured in his dreams in the days and weeks before he’d ended his engagement. Her husband had been a hero. He’d died while serving his country. That man deserved Claire’s love. The purity of her heart made Linc want to deserve her.
“Did she believe you?” he asked.
“Not at first, but then I set her straight.”
Linc wished he’d been there to hear it. “How did you do that?”
“I explained to her that I clean your toilets and that’s far from being romantic.” Claire’s dry tone didn’t quite match the bright color in her cheeks.
“So you didn’t clue her in to the skinny-dipping incident?”
“There was no skinny-dipping incident. Whenever I take Honey into your pool, I wear a very conservative one-piece suit.” Her eyebrows drew together as she regarded him sternly. “This isn’t funny. What if that’s what everyone is thinking?”
“So what if it is?” Linc was completely intrigued by what Claire’s body language had revealed. He offered her a lazy grin. If the gossip was widespread, they were already perceived as being guilty of having an affair. Part of him wanted to just go ahead and prove everybody right. “I’m sure everyone will congratulate me on my excellent taste in women.”
She huffed impatiently. “You should be worried that it will appear as if you took advantage of someone you employ.”
“Anyone who knows me will realize I would never do that. If anything happened between us, it would be because you couldn’t keep your hands off me.” His outrageous words produced a squawk of outrage.
“I am not seeing the humor in this,” she said, her annoyance making her look more beautiful than ever.
Seeing that his teasing had taken her past her comfort zone, Linc sobered. “Are you worried about your reputation?”
“I’m your housekeeper. Why would I care what anyone thinks of me?”
“But you do,” he guessed and could see from her expression that he was right. “Don’t worry. No one who knows you would believe we were engaged in an affair, illicit or otherwise.”
“Why is that?” she asked, her voice giving nothing away.
“Because everyone who knows you is aware...” He hesitated to continue, conscious of stepping over a line they hadn’t to this point approached.
“Aware of what?”
“Your husband. That he was very important to you.”
It occurred to him as he glanced her way, watching emotions play across her features, that he wanted her to deny how she continued to cling to her dead husband’s memory. And why was that? As much as he wanted to, pursuing her was a bad idea.
“There are a lot of people who don’t know me and will be quick to believe the worst,” Claire said.
“Why do you care what those people believe? They are nobody to you.”
“I don’t. But you should. Those are your friends and neighbors. People in this town who matter.”
“You don’t think you matter? I do. You and Honey both.”
“Well, of course Honey matters to me. And you matter to me. I mean, as my employer,” she rushed on. “And your reputation matters to me. It should matter to you as well. Think of what your mother would say if she caught wind of the gossip. The whole thing could blow up into a huge scandal.”
“You matter to me, too,” he said, ignoring the latter part of what she had said. When she gave a start, he wondered if his stronger feelings had leaked through. “You and Honey. And I don’t give a damn about the gossip or what my mother thinks about it.”
His phone began to ring and his sister’s name flashed on the screen built into the car dashboard. As much as he wanted to ignore the interruption and continue this fascinating conversation with Claire, she’d wonder why he hadn’t taken Sawyer’s call.
“Hey,” he said after keying in the call. “Claire and I are on our way back from dinner at a restaurant near Wappoo Creek.”
After a brief pause, Sawyer asked, “You and Claire had dinner together?”
“It’s our anniversary,” he explained, wishing he didn’t have to defend the act o
f taking Claire and Honey out for a simple meal. “She’s been working for me for a year.”
“Oh, sure. It’s surprising how fast the time goes.”
“You have that right. So, what’s up?”
“We’re finalizing the list of historic homes for our holiday tour and I want to make sure you’re still willing to participate.”
His sister was an active member of the Preservation Society of Charleston, working tirelessly to promote conservation of the city’s historic homes and public buildings. In the fall, they offered several tours of historic homes and gardens. This year they were trying something new: a mid-December tour of homes decorated for Christmas.
“Do you have a date in mind?”
“It’s probably going to be the second Saturday in December from two to five. We have six houses south of Broad participating at the moment.”
“That should work out okay.” Linc glanced at Claire. “Unless you can think of a conflict I’ve missed?”
Claire had been correct earlier when she’d mentioned how he liked to entertain around the holidays. He intended to host several events in December.
“That date should work,” Claire said.
“Wonderful,” Sawyer said. “Your house was so beautifully decorated for Christmas last year. I can’t wait for people to see it.”
When he’d purchased the Jonathan Elliot house several years earlier, the 1830s Greek Revival home from the antebellum period had been in rough shape, needing all new wiring and plumbing. Knox had spearheaded the project, coordinating the contractors, while Bettina had overseen the interior designer and given her opinion on all the finishes. The project had taken in excess of eighteen months and garnered him a Carolopolis Award from the Preservation Society of Charleston.
“You can thank Claire for the festive transformation,” Linc said. “It was her vision.”
“I’m sure she’ll do just as wonderful a job this year,” Sawyer said. “I have to run. See you tomorrow night.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Linc ended the call and shot Claire a glance. “No pressure,” he said, amused by her scowl. “Just do what you did last year.”
“Everyone will expect to be wowed again,” she countered. “I have to come up with something even more spectacular.”
“Whatever it is, I know it will be perfect.”
“Why do you have such faith in me?” she demanded.
Linc shrugged. “You’ve never given me any reason to doubt you.”
* * *
Something felt so right about donning her chef whites to prepare the dishes for Linc’s dinner party. Claire was a little surprised how much she missed the hectic pace of a restaurant kitchen. Although she’d spent only a few years working alongside some really talented chefs in the San Francisco area, the experience she’d gained was immeasurable. And in moments like this, Claire wondered if she’d been a fool to give it up.
“Wow, it smells incredible in here.” Linc’s appreciative tones broke through Claire’s musings.
Dressed in khaki pants and a pale blue button-down shirt with a white linen jacket and a bright blue pocket square that matched his eyes, Linc looked every inch the elegant Southern gentleman. During her time in Charleston, she’d noticed how the men of this town oozed charm and gracious manners that lulled a woman into thinking they weren’t the least bit dangerous, while in fact they were heartbreakers one and all.
Claire doubted Linc had any idea just how devastating he could be to a woman’s willpower through the simple act of sauntering into a room. His wavy blond hair was still damp and his elegant clothes couldn’t camouflage the raw masculinity of his athletic body. She gulped in reaction to the sex appeal radiating from him.
“You smell pretty good yourself,” she murmured, treating her nose to a deep pull of his scent as he came up beside her.
“Thanks, it’s Armani’s new cologne. They want me as their spokesmodel. My agent thinks I should do it.”
“You’d be great.” She had no trouble picturing his piercing blue eyes in magazine and television ads, inviting men and women alike to buy.
“I don’t know. I’ve never considered myself a fashion guy.”
“Well—” she cast her gaze over him and then zeroed in on his azure suede loafers “—you look pretty fashionable tonight.”
He glanced down at himself. “You know my stylist does all my shopping. If it was left up to me, I’d be wearing jeans and a T-shirt.”
And look amazingly hot in them. Honestly, the man could wear mud and look great. Sometimes just standing in the same room with all his gorgeous perfection made her ache.
“Is something wrong?”
Claire shook her head and turned her gaze away. “No.” A flush crept up her cheeks and she hoped he would attribute it to the heat of the stove.
“Because the way you were staring at me just now...”
“Did you check the dining room to make sure everything looked okay?” It was a lame attempt to deflect his curiosity.
“I’m sure it’s fine.” Then he lowered his deep voice to a husky rumble that made her stomach drop and finished, “You look really professional in your chef whites.”
“Thank you. I hope it’s okay that I’m wearing them.”
“Of course. You are a professional chef after all.”
His nearness and the way his gaze lingered on the spot on her chest where her name was embroidered made Claire’s heart bump like carriage wheels over cobblestones. Instinct warred with desire. Torn between stepping away and moving closer, her attention snagged on his lips and the tempting half smile that tugged one corner upward.
Handsome, powerful and forbidden. Any one of these qualities made him irresistible. Combined, they gave him an advantage that was entirely unfair.
“I noticed you’re wearing your new earrings.”
Linc touched the left one, sending it swinging. When it grazed the side of her neck, she shivered. There wasn’t anything intimate in his manner, but her heart still raced with joy and longing.
“I really like them,” she breathed, resisting the urge to rub at the goose bumps that had appeared on her arms.
“I’m glad.” He dipped his head and peered more closely at the jewelry. “Yesterday, I wasn’t sure if I’d chosen the right pair.”
“I’m sorry if I seemed less than enthusiastic. I was a little overwhelmed by your generosity and the fact that you remembered my year anniversary.” Not to mention there’d been that pesky longing to throw herself into his arms. “I can’t believe how fast the time has gone.”
“Claire.”
Don’t look at him. Don’t look...
She might as well try to stop the sun from rising. His vivid blue eyes were mesmerizing. While it was true she’d shut down her sexuality, choosing instead to focus on being a mother, her body recognized the signs of sexual interest even as her brain denied it.
Linc, attracted to her?
Ridiculous.
Yet maybe not?
Living in such close proximity had enabled her and Linc to become friends of a sort. After all, Claire was the woman who took care of his house and fussed over him like a mother hen, making sure he ate well and providing a sounding board for him to share his thoughts. And in his vulnerable state after breaking off his engagement, he could feel safe around her because she was just his employee.
And that was all it should be between them.
Besides, she was wary of romantic entanglements after dealing with the way Jasper had changed over the course of their relationship. And Linc wouldn’t repeat his mistake of falling for someone his mother didn’t approve of. Claire put the brakes on her train of thought.
“I probably shouldn’t say this...” He dragged his gaze over her lips.
Her dormant hormones flared to life. She swayed and placed
her palm against the cool granite countertop to steady herself.
Falling for Linc was the height of stupidity, but how much harm could there be in tumbling into bed with him? Such an arrangement might benefit them both in the short-term. Besides, the gossip was already circulating about just such a thing. If she was already being blamed, why not actually be guilty.
“Say what?” she asked, losing her fight with temptation.
A knock sounded on the kitchen door. Regret filled her as she took a jerky half step away from Linc.
“That’ll be tonight’s waitstaff,” she said in a breathless rush. “Your guests will be arriving shortly. You should...” Claire found herself unable to finish the statement. Her thoughts darted and spun, refusing to form any recognizable pattern. “Be ready to greet them,” she concluded at last.
Linc’s wide grin left little doubt he recognized his ability to fluster her. “I’ll go do that.”
Claire’s knees wobbled as she made her way toward the kitchen door. She’d met the two people working for her tonight when she’d first arrived in Charleston. She and Jenny Moore had become friends and often met for lunch. Steve Henning was Jenny’s boyfriend, and on a couple occasions, Claire had agreed to be fixed up with one of Steve’s friends so the four of them could double date. While the evenings had been fun, none of the men had appealed to her enough to keep seeing them.
“Thanks for helping me out tonight,” Claire said as she invited them into the kitchen.
“We’re glad to be here,” Jenny replied. She was a bubbly brunette who often spoke for the pair. “I can’t believe we’re serving for Linc Thurston’s dinner party. Is he as gorgeous in person as on TV?”
“You’ll have to see for yourself.” Claire glanced at Steve to see his reaction but glimpsed only fond amusement on his narrow face as he gazed at Jenny. They really were the cutest couple.
“Steve’s nephew gave us Linc’s rookie card,” Jenny said, reaching into her purse and pulling out a card encased in plastic. “Do you think he’d sign it for him?”
