by Ellen March
“Just visiting. My brother thought I should show Micah where I worked.”
Slade turned and nodded to the big man. “Aren’t you the guy that works at the club?”
“That’s right.” Micah felt an instinctive dislike for the man.
“Hmm, mixing business with pleasure?” Slade shot Savannah a scornful glare.
Savannah felt Micah’s hand clench and she gripped it. Moving forward, she dragged him with her. She could tell he was about to go off on one. “Got to shift. See you around.”
Slade’s hazel gaze seized them for a moment before he continued to his car. He’d see her soon, all right, and she’d be sorry for parading that man in front of him. The way she’d responded in the club had seriously pissed him off.
Savannah shook her head. “I think I’ll book you on an anger management course.”
“I didn’t like that jerk’s implication,” growled Micah.
“What implication? Don’t worry. I’ve had a lot worse comments working here.” Savannah spotted the old man Jack seated at his usual table. She went to smile and hesitated. He appeared almost hostile.
It was directed at her—a swift shaft of venom—and then it vanished.
“Are you all right, Jack?” she asked, releasing Micah from her grip.
Jack nodded. “Fine,” he replied with a sharp curtness. Then, rising, he shrugged into his jacket and ambled to the door, his pace faster than usual.
Savannah checked the time on the large clock that hung from the wall and looked at Micah. “That was strange.”
“Why?” Casually looking around, he hoped they weren’t staying for food. It was clean but too basic for his tastes.
“Since I’ve worked here he’s never left a minute before his due time. And now he leaves half an hour early?”
Micah shrugged his shoulders, wondering why she was obsessed by a customer leaving.
Then he dismissed it. This was Savannah.
***
Returning to the house Micah observed her tearful goodbyes to her brother and bundled Savannah into the car.
It was ten minutes before she finished snivelling, and Micah swore he wasn’t fetching her again. It was giving him a headache.
“What are we going to do for food?” A low grumble sounded in his stomach.
“Take a left here. There’s a pub round the corner. It does two meals for eight quid.”
Micah tried not to close his eyes. He knew he was going to give his chef Jean Paul a pay rise. Usually he went for Michelin stars and here he was, slumming it.
Chapter Thirteen
The pub was set beneath a group of overhanging trees. A small car park lay to the front. A grey puddle of concrete surrounded a clump of shrubs in various colours that edged the front of the tall, red-brick building—the grey slate of its roof gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. The stark black of its windowsills and double doors was relieved by an array of colourful hanging baskets and a rainbow of cheerful lights.
“Come on, I’m starving,” said Savannah, strolling ahead of him towards the entrance. She reached up and snapped a pale, lemon-headed flower, sniffed it and threw it to the ground in disgust. And stepped inside.
Micah shook his head, his focus on her swaying backside encased in black leggings. A shapeless baggy top stopped just at the crease of her ass. Imagining running his tongue along that path, he wore a wayward smile.
Savannah homed in on the bar, picking up the menu. She rested one foot on the low rail and studied it intently. “What do you fancy?” A blush stained her cheeks at the wicked wink he sent her, a most definite glint in his eye and a seriously sexy smile on his lips.
“I’ll order,” she said and dropped her gaze.
But not before she noticed his crotch.
How it appeared suddenly full.
“I hope I like what I’m about to eat.” His smile was full of promise.
She knew what he could have his mouth on right now. And swallowed. “Can you get a table? I need the number.” Savannah followed him as he loped across the room. He appeared oblivious to the blatantly hot stares of the women.
Neither could she blame them. He had to hold a degree in sexuality. Everything he did oozed lust. She still couldn’t get over the fact he was with her. She noticed him send a young blond a grin. Her pale face flushed, and Savannah glared as the female fanned herself.
She was tempted to smack Micah with the large cardboard menu. Instead she gripped it and tried to produce a smile that didn’t look like a feral snarl.
Micah stood beside her. He hadn’t missed how her eyes remained on him and had flirted deliberately to gauge her reaction. It was harmless, and he could see she was fiercely jealous. Yet, instead of being annoyed, he felt a warm glow of contentment.
He dropped his hand to cup her ass. She whipped around, swallowing a startled screech. Immediately he took the opportunity to drop a kiss on her open mouth. “What did you order?”
“Will you behave? What will people think?”
“That you’re my woman.”
Savannah gave him an uncertain, shy smile. She liked that description. Until he followed up with those same words: “For as long as I’m here.”
Micah was reminding himself it was for a short duration only.
Once he’d won the bet, he’d be leaving.
***
Their place at the window overlooked a small area of shrubs. Savannah had ploughed through her food, as had Micah, who now leaned back in his seat. He’d been pleasantly surprised by the quality.
“Oh God, I needed that,” said Savannah, rubbing her stomach.
Micah grinned. Whenever he took a woman out, he paid, whilst she sipped her wine and toyed with her lettuce. This was a refreshing change. “So, about this ledger that you discovered …” he reminded her.
Savannah wished Cato hadn’t mentioned it, because she knew Micah wouldn’t leave it go. “It had dates and figures but only money coming in. And there was lots.” She took a sip of her lager. “I’ll have to ask your bitch where the books are.”
“She’s not my bitch,” he warned softly. “And where have you put it?”
“My bedroom.” Changing the subject, she mused, “I wonder if Charlotte has rung in?”.
His fingers tightened on the glass. “I don’t give a toss because, honey, you’re not bearing your ass.”
She peered over the rim at him. “I didn’t. I used fans.”
“I mean it, Savannah.”
“Stop telling me what to do. It’s my business.”
He carefully placed his shandy on the table, his hand quivering. “You’re my business and you will listen to me.”
“Look, just because you’re interested in becoming my fuck buddy—whilst you’re here, of course—you don’t get to make the rules, okay?” She spoke too loudly and blushed at the curious looks sent their way. “Besides, two need to be in agreement for that, and I’m certainly not.”
“Will you keep your voice down?” Micah hadn’t missed the attention focused on them.
She glowered, and knocking her drink back, rose to her feet. “Come on, let’s leave.” Without waiting, she marched out of the restaurant.
Micah followed, but he scowled and clenched his fists, wishing she’d damn well listen.
***
Charu strolled into the lobby and watched in open-mouthed astonishment as Savannah tore throughout the front door, followed by an irate Micah.
She’d just left the small office that led into the area.
“You can’t tell me what to do!” Savannah yelled. Keying in the pin with sharp jabs, she shouldered it open.
They had been arguing all the way back, neither giving an inch.
Micah strode behind, in her furious wake. “Make a bet? Woman, you test the patience of a saint. You will do exactly as I say. It’s for your own safety.”
She shot him a glare. “Then maybe I’d better get security that can do their job. Because you’re obviously not up to it.” Seeing the
fury on his face, she raced up the stairs. Sprinting into her room, she wished she could slam her door that lay broken and splintered. Instead she kicked at the snapped piece of wood, venting her anger on that.
Micah thundered behind Savannah, entering her bedroom seconds later.
“I’m more than capable of looking after you.” Micah slid to a halt, gaping at the devastation. He spared a glance at Savannah, who was staring around in obvious shock. The window was open and Micah crossed to it. Outside a ladder leaned against the sill. Clothes were strewn haphazardly over the floor whilst drawers hung open.
He sucked in a troubled snatch of air. “Looks like you’ve had a visitor.” He tried to keep his worries from her. “Where is that ledger you mentioned?”
Savannah frowned and pointed to the nearby bedside cabinet, which was empty. She stared inside, brow furrowed with confusion. Dazed that she’d been the victim of a robbery, she looked to Micah. “But how? Why?”
“Anything else missing, like jewellery?”
She shook her head. That was easy to answer. “I don’t own any.”
“Then let’s go downstairs and have a chat with Charu. See what she knows about this.” Micah led her by the elbow, steering her from the room. He didn’t like how things were adding up, not one little bit.
***
Charu had her story set.
When he’d called after leaving the café, her accomplice immediately drove down to collect the damning evidence, making it appear to be a robbery. It was just a shame she hadn’t enough time to take the small box of Kitty’s personal paperwork. No way was she admitting they hadn’t been destroyed. The deliveries had come in from the brewery and Charu was needed to sign for them. At least they’d retrieved the ledger.
Savannah was first to arrive in Charu’s small office. She came straight to the point. “I’ve been robbed. What do you know about it?”
Charu raised a brow and shook her head, her face registering shock and surprise. “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. I’ve only just got back myself.”
“From where?” demanded Savannah.
Micah wished she’d shut the hell up. She was like a verbal avalanche.
“The wholesalers. Ring them to check if you don’t believe me.” Charu had a friend who worked there and owed her a favour.
That deflated Savannah.
“Was anything taken?” Charu felt forced to ask. Acting wasn’t her forte.
Savannah shot her a suspicious glare. “Yes, a red book.”
“But how did they get in?”
“Through the window.” As if it’s news to you, bitch, thought Savannah. “What do you know about a small red ledger?”
Charu frowned. “We haven’t got one. At least not to my knowledge. Why?”
Micah managed to jump in. “Where are the account books?”
“An audit is coming up; they’re with the accountant.”
“And his telephone number?” quizzed Micah. He didn’t trust her. He’d heard that old ruse before.
She wrote it down and handed it over as she’d been told.
“Who keeps the records here?”
“Why me, of course,” she said, spreading her hands out. She slanted her head, the picture of innocence.
“Then who else would have kept a set of records for themselves?” he asked.
“No idea.” She turned to Savannah. “Are you sure of what you saw? I mean I’m the only one who has access to this office and I’ve never seen it.”
“I know what I saw.” Fat she might be, blind she wasn’t. Savannah was positive she was lying, but how to prove it?
“If that’s all and nothing of value was stolen, then I need to lock the office and get ready for opening.” She rose, the theft already forgotten. “I assume you’re not calling the police. Oh, and Charlotte will be here. She’s over her illness.”
Micah shot her a smug smile.
Savannah glared back. “No, there’s no point ringing them, not for a single book.”
***
“She’s lying,” said Savannah over her shoulder as she trod the stairs. Micah followed close behind her.
“I know.”
She turned into her room. “And I would have danced.” She was determined to get the dig in.
“Like hell you would have.” He paused before his room.
“Well, now, we’ll never know, will we?” She smiled sweetly up at him.
“That’s what you think.” His mobile rang and Rio’s name came up. Micah closed the door.
Savannah looked around the mess in the room. She debated tiding up but was more curious about who Micah was talking to. She unashamedly pressed her ear to the door.
Her shrieked curse rang out when it suddenly opened and she spilled in, looking up at an amused Micah.
He’d known she’d be inquisitive. And after shutting the door, he’d put Rio on hold and counted to ten.
“Well, hello. Anything I can do for you? But, honey, as you’re down there ….” His deep chuckle scrolled over her.
“Bastard,” she muttered, scrambling to her feet. Savannah stalked back into her room. “I’m going for a shower.”
***
“What’s going on?” Rio’s voice was sharp and deep.
“Not a lot. How’s the bet going?”
“It’s not,” he muttered.
“Whoa, looks like I may have to give her a try?”
“Like hell you will. I told you what I’d do to you. It still applies.”
“You can but try,” teased Micah.
“What about you, cracked yet?”
“No, I’m rather enjoying myself.”
“How come?” His voice was instantly suspicious.
“There’s a rather cute owner here. And she doesn’t go with the gay policy. So I’m not breaking the terms of the bet.”
“You sneaky bastard. What’s she like?”
“Hot, at least I’m hoping to bed her.” Then he remembered the shower.
“Perhaps I should call in after this bet and pay her a visit.”
“As you said,” Micah’s voice chilled to a frost, “unless you like hospital food, keep your hands to yourself. Or Rio, I swear I’ll break you.”
Rio burst out laughing. “Don’t tell me big hard Micah has been tamed?”
“Piss off, Rio.” Hanging up, he wondered if he had been. All he could think of was her shower.
A wicked smile edged his lips and he stripped quickly down to his pants, his hard-on evident. He debated pulling them off but didn’t want to risk bumping into Charu bollock naked.
He pulled the door open.
***
Savannah leisurely soaped herself, her thoughts on Micah. She wondered if she should be so focused on a certain part of his anatomy. If her obsession was normal. She giggled.
As she luxuriated in the water sluicing over her, her imagination began to roam, coming up with delicious visions—Micah’s hand between her legs, his shaft deep within.
She couldn’t stop thinking of the man.
He was too male, too macho, too sexy. Savannah groaned and sucked in a long, shaky breath. Shit but she needed him. She closed her eyes. It had gone way past need; it was now desperation. She had to assuage the ache.
And if he wasn’t around, then she’d do it herself.
A draught of air chilled her skin, followed by a big hard body.
“Micah?” she asked, leaning back against him. Her hands crept around his hips—exploring, testing.
“Who else were you expecting, honey?” he teased. His lips drizzled over her hair and his hands traced her breasts, grasping and sneaking soft touches over her nipples.
“Micah, what are you doing? I mean, you shouldn’t.” She leaned into him, could scent him, feel his body close, his hard-on snug against her back. Savannah twisted around, attempting to tell him … what?
Instead her lips discovered his. She whimpered when his fingers snuck between her legs.
“No, Micah,”
she whispered. Meanwhile her alter ego slut of a body responded to his touch, arching into him.
“Yes, Micah,” he said, his words burning over her mouth.
“But—”
“Stop thinking. Just let me make love to you. Please?”
If he’s said “fuck,” she might have stood a chance. But her proud warrior of a man had asked her to make love. And Savannah was lost, was giving in to the primal need that had assailed her body from the first time she’d met him.
Her hand dropped down, keeping his safe, not moving. Savannah curled into him, welcoming his fingers delving deep. The way they teased over her clitoris drove her wild. She hunched and bucked against each torturous touch.
What she’d intended to say lodged in her throat. Her brain said no, whilst her treacherous body was acting like a ravenous addict on a high. Only Micah could provide her fix.
Her moans echoed with every stroke as she spiralled into a vortex of sexual thirst.
“Oh my, just keep doing that.” She rocked into his hand, longing for relief, for his awesome package to be there, filling her.
Micah held her tight, pressing her body against the shower screen and unhurriedly thrusting up to fill her sweet pussy. She took every inch of him. He drove in languidly at first, and then he intended taking her hard, showing her what he could give her, what he intended to keep giving her. A whole eight inches of thick girth.
He stifled a grin. He was going to savour this moment, make it last for her—a long session of lazy loving.
His lips fluttered across her throat. She threw her head back, seeking his lips. His body furled around her, pulling her close, and his hands trailed up and down in a feverish intensity. One hand pummelled her heavy tit, his fingers flicking over her nipple. The other teased a seductive dance across her clit. With a will of its own, her body thrust against his groin. He was deep inside, his rock hard balls snug against her.
Taking her hands he flattened them against the tiled wall.
He withdrew slowly and drove up in one sweeping lance. Savannah grunted, and her breath skated out in a surprised whoosh.
“Is it good, Anna?” he whispered against her throat. His tongue moved over her in a wash of lustful sweeps.
