Love in the Morning (10 page)

“Someplace down south.” Nona shook her head. “Florida or Georgia or someplace like that. But she was living in California before she came out here.”

“So she's now gracing us with her presence and drawing every male within hailing distance, making Saltzman a very rich man.” Dick gave Lizzy another of those smirks. She was beginning to think it was his natural expression.

Nona narrowed her eyes in exasperation. “Ted didn't hire her to make money. He did it because he's a nice guy and she needed a job.” She glanced at Lizzy again and then looked away quickly.

Lizzy gritted her teeth. At this rate everybody at the table would figure out something about her was weird by the end of the evening.

“Good for him,” she said quickly.

The crowd parted again and Ronnie headed back to their table, carrying a pitcher of beer and glasses. She placed the pitcher in the center of the table, the glasses in front of them.

Dick glowered. “Where's my whiskey sour?”

Ronnie shrugged. “If you want it, Ted says you'll have to wait. It's just him and Maggie on the bar tonight, and he's backed up.”

“You brought the beer.”

Ronnie shrugged again. “Well, heck, anybody can pour a pitcher of beer. I did that one myself.”

Nona frowned. “So you went ahead of the other people who were waiting?”

“They didn't mind. Y'all want some nachos or something?”

Al sighed. “Sure, why not? It'll give Dick something else to grouse about besides his whiskey sour.”

“Okay, it may take a little while. Seeing as how we're so busy.” Ronnie gave them another one of those smiles. “I'll put you at the head of the line, though. Since you're regulars and all.” She turned and ambled back across the room with the same crowd-clearing effect.

Dick shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

Al took the pitcher and began pouring. “Best show in town. Better than that
Mr. Right
thing Ronnie was on, anyway.”

Lizzy blew out a long breath. So Ronnie was another reality show survivor. Interesting. Maybe they should get together and form a support group. Except Ronnie didn't look like she needed extra support from anybody.

Al squinted across the room. “Isn't that Denham?”

Lizzy turned around quickly, looking toward the door. It was indeed Clark…with a really stunning blonde. Or, she would have been stunning if she hadn't been frowning so ferociously.

“Who's he with?” Dick was squinting too.

Nona sighed. “It's that bitch from the resort. You know—the one who's always coming up with all those ideas for dumbass promotions. I think she's their public relations expert. God help them.”

Lizzy stared at the woman again. She looked…expensive. Her little black dress had probably cost more than Lizzy's entire wardrobe. Of course, given the current state of her wardrobe, that wasn't saying much. Her stilettoes looked designer and if her dangling earrings weren't real diamonds, they were at least very nice fakes. Her blonde hair hung straight to her shoulders, gleaming even in the dim light of the Blarney Stone.

She obviously hadn't been spending her time in humid kitchens.

She was also obviously a very appropriate date for a hotel owner like Clark. Of course, he was wearing his usual flannel shirt and khakis, so it didn't look like he'd gone out of his way to dress up for her.

That probably should have made Lizzy feel good. It didn't. As she started to turn back to the table, Clark glanced in her direction. And froze.

For a couple of heartbeats, they stared at each other. Lizzy could only hope her face was as expressionless as his. Then the woman beside him said something, jerking on his arm, and he looked away.

Lizzy turned back to the table and picked up her beer. “Any sign of those nachos?”

Nona was still frowning, but this time it was at Lizzy. “Any minute now.”

“Good. I didn't get around to fixing dinner tonight. Nachos would be welcome.” She took another swallow of beer without tasting it.

You don't have anything going with him. Of course he has a girlfriend. Did you think he was celibate before he met you?

No, she definitely hadn't thought that. And now she figured she should probably just forget about that kiss. Obviously, it hadn't mattered a damn.

Right. Just keep telling yourself that, Lizzy. Eventually you might actually believe it.
Okay, it had meant something to her. But now she sort of doubted it had meant shit to Clark.

Chapter Ten

The Date From Hell lasted way longer than it should have, in Clark's opinion. Lauren had complained almost from the moment he'd set foot in her Mini. Construction at the resort was behind schedule. Her boss had turned down her idea for a Mocktober Fest in November (praise the Lord). And she'd broken a nail getting into her car.

Since he assumed the whole purpose of this date was to get him to feel mellow about the reality show coming to town, she really needed to work on her technique. Five minutes in, he was as far from mellow as possible and ready to head back to Praeger House. Without Lauren.

Of course, the brief stop at the Blarney Stone hadn't helped the evening. He wasn't even sure why they'd gone there since Lauren hated everything about the place and had made her feelings known well before they'd stepped inside. And seeing Lizzy at that table with Nona, Al and Dick had made him simultaneously want to join them and get the hell out of the room before any of them noticed Lauren.

That was, of course, impossible since they'd all been staring at him from the moment they'd walked in.

Dinner at the Italian place where they'd finally ended up after leaving the Blarney Stone hadn't made the evening any better. Lauren had an antipasto salad from which she pointedly removed all the salami and cheese, piling it beside her bowl in a pyramid of shame. Although she hadn't exactly complained about the food, her sigh when she'd looked at the menu had been enough.

By the time dinner was over, he'd abandoned any plans for heading back to his place. Or her place. In fact, he'd rarely been around a woman he felt less lust for, a lack of interest she seemed to share completely. When she pulled her Mini up in front of the Praeger House, he found himself fresh out of polite lies.

“Thanks for dinner,” he said. “Feel like a nightcap?” He sounded completely unenthusiastic about that possibility, but he couldn't seem to work up any excitement.

She shook her head. “I've got an early meeting tomorrow.”

“Okay. See you at the next Merchants Association meeting.”

Lauren shrugged. “It's possible.” She gave no indication she was interested in a good night kiss.

He watched as Lauren sped back down the drive to the street.
And that ends that.
Clearly they weren't going to be having any more fuck dates. Not that he was all that broken up about it. He probably should have ended the whole thing a long time ago.

He nodded at the night desk clerk as he headed up the hall toward the kitchen. Why he was headed to the kitchen he didn't know. He wasn't hungry or thirsty. Maybe he just wanted to make sure everything was set up for breakfast tomorrow. Not that he had any doubts on that score, given Lizzy's work ethic.

Lizzy. He paused for a moment. Seeing Lizzy in the Blarney Stone had made him want to have Lauren drop him off on the nearest street corner. He didn't really feel like trying to figure out why a woman dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers suddenly seemed infinitely more desirable than a woman like Lauren. In fact, he was fairly sure figuring that out would lead to trouble.

Then why are you trying to find Lizzy instead of just heading for your apartment?
Good question. He didn't exactly have an answer.

He pushed through the door to the dining room, but he couldn't see any lights on in the kitchen. He wasn't sure when he'd begun to assume Lizzy would always be there when he wanted to see her, but obviously that assumption wasn't accurate this evening. Just another thing that wasn't going the way he expected it to.

He stepped back into the hall again. Maybe she was still at the Blarney Stone. He could always head over there and see. On the other hand, if she wasn't there, he might end up being stuck at the bar, talking to people he didn't want to talk to.

No Blarney Stone, no kitchen, that left…
Yeah, genius, you'll have to go knock on her door.
He took a deep breath, then turned down the hall, heading for the corridor that led to what passed for the Staff Quarters.

In reality, most of the people who worked at Praeger House lived outside the hotel. Clark figured that once upon a time, when the hotel was still the private residence of the timber baron, there'd been live-in maids and kitchen staff. But given the size of their rooms, they must have been related to elves. Some of the old staff rooms had already been done over, walls removed to make suites. Lizzy was staying in one of the few that remained at the original size. He felt a little guilty about putting her in a room that wasn't much more than a broom closet, but she'd seemed glad to get it at the time. And so far as he knew, she hadn't been looking for another place since then. She pretty much lived in the kitchen. He didn't stop to wonder why she did that.

He raised his hand before he could think better of it and knocked on her door. There was a long pause, long enough to make him wonder if she actually was still at the Blarney Stone, and then her door swung open.

Apparently, he'd managed to come just as she was getting ready for bed. She wore a pair of black yoga pants and a T-shirt, and her dark hair was pulled up on top of her head in a clip. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and for a moment he thought she might close the door in his face. Then she squared her shoulders and gave him a polite smile. “Hi, what's up?”

What's up?
He suddenly realized the weakness in his plan—he didn't actually have a plan. He had no idea what to say to her now that he was there. “Hi,” he said, trying desperately to think of a topic he could legitimately claim had brought him to her door.

Her forehead furrowed slightly as she waited for him to go on.

“I was wondering…” His brain had gone utterly blank.

“Wondering?” She raised an eyebrow.

“About the menus,” he improvised. “You know, the breakfast stuff. I mean could I get a copy of the ones you showed me?”

“Sure, come on in.” She stepped back. “I've got them here somewhere. You can photocopy them.”

She turned back to a desk on the other side of the room, all of three feet away, flipping through some pages. He took a quick glance around. Hotel furniture—bed, dresser, desk and bedside table. Hotel linens. Hotel rug. And not much else—no family pictures, no posters, no art, nothing that made it look any different from the other rooms on the floor. It was just the way it had been when she moved in.

He frowned. Why wouldn't she want to put up a couple of pictures? Was she not planning to stay?

“Here you go.” She picked up some papers from the desk and turned back toward him.

He took them from her, trying to come up with anything else to talk about. Because he wasn't ready to leave yet. Not by a long shot. “How was the Blarney Stone?”

Her expression seemed to close, her jaw tightening. “It was great. I enjoyed it.”

“Good.” Surely there was something else he could say about the Blarney Stone. Something that didn't involve Lauren.

“She's very pretty.”

Some of Lizzy's dark hair had come undone from the clip, drifting down alongside her face. Her eyes seemed larger in the soft lighting of the room, fringed with velvety lashes. And he had no idea what she'd just said. “Excuse me?”

“Your girlfriend. Your date, I mean.” She licked her lips. “She's really a knockout.”

One glimpse of that pale pink tongue and his body was back on high alert.
Crap, crap, crap.
“She's not my girlfriend.”

Lizzy's forehead furrowed slightly. “She isn't?”

He shook his head. “She's just…someone I know.”
Used to know.

“Someone you know.” She nodded slowly.

“We…we're not…” He ran his fingers through his hair. Why exactly was he having so much trouble with this? And since when had he tried to explain his sex life to a relative stranger?

A really hot relative stranger.

Lizzy's forehead was still furrowed, as if she were trying to figure out the same thing herself. “You're not…”

“Ah, hell,” he muttered and reached for her.

She gave a slight gasp of surprise but then moved more tightly against him, her hands sliding up his chest as he grasped her shoulders. She smelled of cinnamon and honey, faint hints of spice in her skin and hair.

He ran the tip of his tongue along the edge of her lips, tasting, testing. She opened for him, her hands against the back of his neck now, drawing him closer, and he plunged deep.

Her mouth was sweet, like sugar, like honey, like all the delectable things she had in her kitchen. He rasped his tongue against hers, his lips hard upon her mouth, hands moving now to the indentation of her waist, the curves of her hips. Her T-shirt rode up as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he touched warm skin.

Some distant part of his brain was warning him to slow down, but he paid no attention. He wasn't entirely sure where they were going with this—he was playing it by ear. But it was definitely going to be a great ride. He stepped forward, closing the door behind him.

*****

Lizzy tried to get the rational part of her brain back in charge again. She felt like she'd downed a couple of full-strength margaritas, and her head was still swimming. Along with other parts of her body. Her breasts tingled and her skin felt hot. She kept moving closer to Clark, pressing her body against his, tangling her fingers in the thick silk of his hair, and yet she still didn't feel close enough.

His hand slid down her spine, resting at the top of her hips, cupping her behind. She lifted one leg and wrapped it around him, rubbing her calf along the hard muscle of his thigh.

Moving very fast here.
Yes, she was. And she wanted to move even faster. Apparently she'd lost all her control.

After a moment, he raised his head, his breath rough against her cheek. His eyes looked dark green now, maybe with hints of brown at the center.

“You know where this is going?” he said, green eyes burning.

She nodded, running her tongue along her lower lip.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he were gathering his thoughts together. “Are you okay with that?”

She nodded again. “Absolutely.”

His lips turned up slightly. “Good. Very good.”

Too much talking. Way, way too much talking. She cupped his face in her hands, pulling him down to kiss her again. His arms went around her waist, jerking her tight against him so that she could feel the hard shape of his arousal. She spread her legs wider, riding up on her toes so that the V of her sex rested against him.

Oh my yes, so good. So, so good.

His hands were on her ass again, pushing her up so that she was rubbing harder against him. He broke the kiss, then rested his forehead against hers, his hands slipping beneath her T-shirt.

She wasn't wearing a bra. She'd been getting ready for bed. And now, of course, she was a lot more ready than she'd been five minutes ago.

He cupped her breasts, pinching the nipples between thumb and forefinger, pulling lightly to make them peak.

Her breath rasped in her throat, and then she was jerking his shirt loose from his pants and fumbling with the buttons. The first two slipped free, the third popping off with a slight ping.

“Damn,” she muttered.

He chuckled, his breath warm against her cheek. “Don't worry about it. I've got more shirts.”

She pushed the fabric aside and ran her hands over the warmth of his skin. The muscles of his chest tightened beneath her fingertips as she swept downward toward his waistband.

He dropped his hands as she pushed loose the button on his pants and eased the zipper down.

And then he took hold of the elastic at the top of her yoga pants, pulling it loose and pushing them down over her hips.

She stepped free, pulling her T-shirt over her head, then stood, fighting the impulse to cross her arms across her breasts. She'd been naked in male company before. Why should she feel so nervous now?

But the answer to that was obvious.
It's Clark. He's hot. He's also your boss. And you have a lot of secrets you want to keep to yourself.

He took hold of her hands, pushing them wide as he looked at her. “Nice,” he said softly. “Very, very nice.”

She took a deep breath, then another, trying to get her pulse rate to slow down. Then she reached for his shoulders, taking his shirt off.

After a moment, he took hold of his pants and underwear, pushing them down and stepping free.

Plates of muscle spread across his chest, and along his abdomen. She found herself wondering when he had the time to exercise, given his work schedule, but he obviously managed to keep up.

His erection strained upward from the nest of dark hair.

This is going to happen. Here. Now.

She glanced across the room. She hadn't thought much about the accommodations when she'd moved in. She'd been so happy to have somewhere to stay she hadn't really considered anything else. Now she did. Her almost-double bed wasn't exactly luxurious. It wasn't even roomy.

Clark cupped her face in his hands. “Stop thinking. Whatever you're worrying about, stop it.” His lips touched the edge of her forehead and then along her chin in a line of light, whispering kisses. He moved his hands to her hips, then down, picking her up so that she could wrap her legs around his waist.

His cock throbbed against her, hot and hard, as he moved to the bed. And then she was sliding onto her back, his body covering hers. He pushed up on his forearms, brushing the hair back from her face with his fingertips. She turned her head, pressing her lips to his palm, and he leaned down again to kiss her.

She moved her hands along the lines of his back, tracing the muscles, her fingers dipping along the bumps of his spine as he ran the tip of his tongue along her throat.

He moved down her body, taking her nipple in his mouth, pulling the other tight with his fingers.