Forbidden Fantasies Bundle(49)

God, yes. In spades, in neon, in letters across the sky. He pulled away fast and held the driver-side door for her.

Turned out Samantha couldn’t drive worth shit when she was excited. He grabbed the overhead grip when she roared onto Highland without a sideways glance at oncoming traffic. Babbling about details that remained to be done, she ran a yellow light and barely slowed for a stop sign. He couldn’t help slamming his feet onto the floorboards.

She glanced at him. “You want to drive, Rick?”

“Just take it easy. This is a residential zone and you just blew by a stop sign.”

“So, what, now you’re a cop?”

You got me. “Traffic laws are our friends.”

“I’ll take the ticket. I don’t care. I’ll take two. I can afford them now.”

He chuckled. “Sammi, I think you could burn rubber in a school yard and still talk your way out of the citation.”

“You called me Sammi.” She shot him a look.

“Eyes on the road.” He motioned for her to look ahead.

“I like that. It means we’re friends.”

“Sure,” he said, adding, “Sammi,” like a fool. It was worth it to see the smile sweep across her face and light her eyes.

She jerked into the restaurant’s driveway and zipped to the valet stand. “Life’s too short to self park,” she said, jumping out and producing her key for the attendant.

Rick just grinned. She was such a ball of energy. He liked soaking in her sun. He’d never thought of himself as gloomy, but compared to her, he was a Portland sky.

In minutes, they were seated in a richly upholstered booth at the back of the restaurant. The table was set with linen, two sizes of crystal glasses and an entire drawer of utensils decorated the double plates trimmed in gold. The quiet murmurs of the well-heeled crowd lent an atmosphere of discretion and class.

The wine steward, all unctuous servitude, beamed greedily when Samantha announced they needed a bottle of champagne.

Rick insisted on the least expensive in the wine book—it had too many pages to be called a list—and soon he and Samantha were looking into each other’s eyes, while the man drizzled gold bubbles into their glasses.

The instant the steward left, Samantha lifted her flute. “Here’s to us,” she said and Rick didn’t even fight his grin. He tapped her glass, the sound ringing out like a warning bell. Remember the case. Remember who you are.

Hell, he flat-out liked being in Samantha’s orbit—a cool moon to her fiery sun.

“I’m so glad I hired you,” she said. “Without you, I wouldn’t have made that sale.”

“I just backed your play,” he said.

“It was more than that. I was nervous and too eager.”

“You were just enthusiastic.” He loved that about her. She was as bubbly and warm as the liquid warming his insides, making him want to swallow the bottle in a long gulp, take her in his arms and make love to her.

“You moderated me,” she said. “Plus you have that knowing smile. Like we had so much to offer that Wendy was lucky we could squeeze her into our schedule.”

“You do offer a lot, Samantha.”

“You, too, Rick. As an employee…and as a person. I mean…for the woman you’re looking for…that you haven’t found yet.” She went pink and sucked down champagne. “Anyway, thanks for all you did.”

“I’m happy to help,” he said. He would make sure she came out of all this unharmed, dammit. Would he bend the rules for her? His gut burned. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

“You fit in so easily,” she continued. “You’ve taken on extra duties. I feel like we’re…partners, you know? That you truly want me to succeed.”

“I’m glad you…trust me,” he said, though that made him queasy.

“I do.” Except her blue eyes darted away from his. She had doubts. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” He braced himself. Who are you really? If she asked him straight out, he’d tell her, he knew. And that would be trouble. He’d just have to deal with—

“Have you been sleeping at Mirror, Mirror?”

“Have I…?” Shit. She’d figured it out.

“Because—” she fumbled in her handbag and held out his shaving-cream can “—I found this in Mona’s studio.”

Must have fallen out of his pocket when he’d jumped up last night. “Yeah,” he said. “I did sleep there.” How much truth could he tell her and not jeopardize the case? “I’ve had…problems…at my place.”