Blackmailing The Billionaire(16)

"What have you prepared so far?" she asked, trying to distract him from staring a hole through her.

"I have a couple steaks in the oven and was just getting the potatoes  ready," he answered. She went to the fridge and rifled around, trying to  find something healthy to go with the meal. She found an assortment of  salad items and began pulling them out.

"They stocked the cabin well. I'm impressed," she spoke again, uncomfortable with the silence.

"My client recommended this place. He said they take care of their  guests," he spoke in a knowing tone, as if he could read her mind. She  really hoped he couldn't because she thought about him naked, in her  bed, doing wonderful things with her, at least ten times a day.

She began chopping vegetables while her mind wandered. She realized, as  she stood there, that she'd never had a man at her house before. She'd  never done something so simple as to prepare a meal with the opposite  sex. Max was humming a song she didn't recognize, and the scents were  drifting around them. She found she liked the sensation of cooking with  someone else. She had to remind herself this was strictly business, not a  date, before she got too comfortable in her little fantasy.

"You can go relax in the living room if you'd like. I can finish this,"  she offered. She didn't want him to leave but she was getting too  comfortable with their domestic roles.

"Nope, I'm known for my excellent steaks. I can't leave them or they'll  get ruined," he said with another of his signature grins.         

     



 

"Suit yourself," she told him as if it didn't matter one way or the  other. As they prepared dinner in the small kitchen he seemed to brush  up against her no matter how she moved about. His hip would graze hers  one minute, then he'd reach into a cupboard above her, his chest sliding  along her back. By the time they finished making the meal she'd be  reduced to a pile of ashes.

"You seem awfully nervous. Haven't you ever cooked a meal with a date before?" he asked.

"This isn't a date - we're only here for work. Technically, on this trip  you're my boss, so saying things like that doesn't help me to feel more  comfortable," she scolded him. She needed to remind both him and her of  that fact.

Her little speech wiped the cocky grin from his face. He sent her a  glare, seemingly not happy about her pointing out the facts to him.

"Sorry, I didn't need to snap like that, it's just that we're in this  cabin, and I'm nervous," she admitted. She didn't want to fight with him  - she just wanted to create some distance, before she ended up jumping  on the counter and demanding he take her. Why couldn't she just be like  Darcy Undermost, back in high school, who would jump any guy that asked?  She was thinking that at least the girl got some pleasure, even if  everyone called her a slut.

She could see he accepted her apology when his sexy smile overtook his  features and he moved forward, brushing her forever disobedient hair out  of her face. His fingers lingered, as they often did when he performed  the task.

Max barely kept himself from taking her in his arms. He could see her  relief that he accepted her apology. He didn't want to fight with her,  either. He was sick of fighting with her and himself. He decided he  needed to end the torture for both of them. He knew she was interviewing  him, and technically for this trip he was her boss, but he couldn't  seem to think anymore when she was around. He never had office affairs,  never slept with an employee, but this was a special case and he was  losing the battle to resist her.

He found he enjoyed her company, he liked how she wasn't afraid to stand  up to him. Most of all, he liked that she wasn't pulling out all the  stops to seduce him. As a matter of fact, she was doing just the  opposite, hiding her body beneath the unflattering pajamas, not wearing  make-up, or even trying to appear sexy.

She'd be disappointed to know none of it was working. She looked far  sexier to him in her flannels than she would've looked in lingerie. She  just had a natural sex appeal that wouldn't stop calling to him, and in  the remote cabin he had no desire to fight it. He felt the tightening in  his pants, and turned from her.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" he asked. She nodded her head, yes. He  was sure she was thinking the same as him - maybe a little drink would  help calm the nerves. He sure hoped so, or he wouldn't make it past  dinner.

They both went back to their tasks, but it wasn't long when he felt the  need to be close to her again. He gave up all pretenses of keeping away.

"Mmm, that looks good," he softly spoke into her ear, leaning over her  and peering into the bowl. It's just a salad, not a gourmet dish, she  though, but he leaned the full length of his body into her backside, and  she tensed. His breath brushed against her neck, making her shiver.

"Thanks," she muttered, wanting him to lower his lips to her neck and  run his tongue along the skin his breath had just moistened.

You need to calm down and relax. He's just like any other guy, she  silently commanded. She took a few deep breaths and moved sideways, out  of his grip. She set the table, and sat down, creating a barrier between  them.

Max brought the steaks and potatoes and their conversation stilled for a  moment as they began to eat. As hungry as she'd been earlier, her  stomach was so tied in knots she barely managed to get anything down.  She moved her food around her plate, and then grinned. She was thinking  Kinsey would get a real kick out of the situation.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"I was thinking about my best friend. She'll be home in a month and I can hardly wait," she told him honestly.

"You mentioned her in the hospital. Have you been close a long time?"

"Forever. I can't remember my life without her in it. We went through  school together, and then college. She's a nurse and out to save the  world. I know what she does is important, but I'm selfish and just want  her with me," she said.

"I can understand that. My siblings, cousins, and I used to be closer  than just family. We did everything together. Then, my mother died, and  my siblings and I drifted apart. We all hurt so badly and were trying to  somehow outrun the pain. My father forced us into this move back to  Seattle, and though we won't admit it to him, it's the best thing that  could've happened. We're all right back where we used to be. It's  important to have people in your life that you care about," he said.         

     



 

Cassie stared at him in shock. She'd never heard him say something so  personal about his life. It had to be the wine and the intimate  atmosphere. She was sure he'd regret being so open with her, come  morning.

"I'd love to have a family as large and loving as yours. Everyone I've  met so far are wonderful," she said. He smiled his approval.

"We can be a tad overwhelming." From what she'd heard, the Anderson's as  a group were quite the sight. She'd love to see it, though she knew she  wouldn't get the opportunity.

"Overwhelming is much better than empty," she said, fighting the sudden tears wanting to spring to her eyes.

"Let's leave this mess until morning. I want to enjoy the fire," he told  her as he stood and stuck out his hand. She hesitated only a moment  before taking it. He grabbed the wine bottle and led her to the couch  facing the fire.

She sat on the far end, sipping from her glass, letting the flames lull  her into a sense of security. When he spoke again, she jumped.

"How long have you wanted to be a reporter?"

"I think since I was twelve. We went to outdoor school, and when we got  back one of our assignments was to create a newspaper about our week at  camp. I really got into the project. I went around and interviewed the  different teachers who had chaperoned, got my film developed from all  the pictures I'd taken, and even got quotes from the kids. The other  students in my group were thrilled to be paired with me because they  didn't have to do much on the project. I did the complete layout of the  paper, provided all the photos, and did most of the stories. I was  really picky, even in sixth grade," she said with excitement edging  through her voice.

"Aah, you were that kid." Her hackles immediately rose. There was  absolutely nothing wrong with being smart and caring about your grades.  Not everyone was handed millions of dollars when they reached adulthood.

"I worked hard," she said in defense.

"Hey, I wasn't putting you down. I was that kid, too," he said, throwing  his hands up. She looked at him suspiciously. He was gorgeous, with his  chiseled features, bright eyes, and a to die for body. There was no way  he was one of the smart kids. He was most likely the jock every girl  wanted to date and every guy wanted to be.

"Yeah right," she said with a smirk.

"Seriously, I was only five-six until my junior year of high school and  weighed about one-hundred pounds. I was president of the chess club,  and … " he paused for dramatic effect, "was a complete klutz. My siblings  all hit their prime long before me, making me a bit self-conscious at  the time," he said.