by Soraya Lane
“You think he’s so damn respectable, you wouldn’t know the half of it,” Sam scoffed. “Let’s pack your things up and you can come stay with me.”
“No.” She placed her hands on her hips, not about to be bossed around by her older brother. “I’m not a child, Sam; you can’t just snap your fingers and tell me what to do.”
“Nate’s . . .”
“What?” she demanded.
“He’s a womanizer. He’s used to getting whatever and whoever he wants.”
Faith laughed. “Oh, and suddenly you’re Mother Teresa just because you’ve been in a relationship for a couple of months? Cry me a different song, Sam. You’ve got a history of leaving women high and dry just like Nate has, so don’t go trying to make out like he’s the bad guy and you’re not.”
“I’m your brother, goddamn it, and I want to keep you away from him.” Sam stalked around and poured his own cup of coffee, his face like thunder. “Is it so bad that I care about you?”
Faith sighed, shoulders falling as she looked into her brother’s eyes. She nudged him with her arm as she scooped a spoon of sugar and dropped it into his cup. “I love that you care about me, Sam; I do. But I need to stand on my own two feet.”
He grunted and slung an arm around her. “Running into the arms of Nate is not standing on your own two feet, sweetheart.”
Faith tried not to bristle, knew that Sam was trying to look out for her. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m here working? It’s a hell of a lot better than the bar. And let’s not start on how well you deal with guys doing wrong by me.” She laughed. “Not that any of them have been deserving of being roughed up before now.”
Her brother made a growling noise and she pushed away from him and jumped up onto the counter, staring down into eyes the exact same shade of brown as hers.
“So there’s nothing going on between you?” he asked, sipping his coffee, then grimacing at the heat. “I didn’t walk in on anything this morning when I showed up?”
“For the last time, no,” she insisted, hoping her cheeks didn’t flush. A couple of months ago, hell, a week ago she’d have stripped her gorgeous boss down to nothing at the first opportunity. But that was before. Nate had flirted with her, and he hadn’t so much as touched her inappropriately since she’d arrived. “I needed somewhere to stay; he needed a housekeeper. It was a win-win situation for both of us.”
Sam leaned forward, arms on the counter across from her. “Just be careful around him, okay?”
“You’ve already warned him off me, Sam,” she said, wondering if she was pushing it by admitting what she knew. “I know he wasn’t allowed to come near me when I was a teenager, that I was the one girl he wasn’t allowed to try his luck with, and he seems pretty sure that the rules of not coming near me are still in place.”
“It was for your own good,” Sam muttered, but he didn’t meet her gaze, was obviously embarrassed at being caught out. “And it still is.”
“Well, now I’m all grown-up, Sam, and I can look out for myself. You don’t need to tell me who I can and can’t be with.” The way he was acting he was almost pushing her toward Nate.
“Like you did with Cooper? After what that asshole did to you--”
“Nate would never lay a hand on a woman,” she said, interrupting him. “Don’t you ever compare him to Cooper.”
Sam shook his head, coffee cup braced in one hand. “He won’t break your bones, Faith, but he will break your heart. I know he will, and seeing you like that would hurt me more than seeing you with a bruise on your stomach. It’d kill me, because that kind of pain doesn’t’ just disappear in a week like an ugly bruise that fades to nothing.”
Faith’s belly flipped, both from the reference to the blow she’d taken the day before and from just thinking about Nate, about the power he could have over her, how hard she could fall for him if she let herself. But she wasn’t going to. Getting into his bed was one thing, but she would never let him close enough to break her heart.
“I’ll be fine, Sam. I promise.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want to stay with me?”
“Three’s a crowd,” she told him, jumping down and pressing a fleeting kiss to his cheek as she took his cup off him, put it in the sink, and then grabbed his hand, hauling him down the hall. “Now it’s time for you to go. I have work to do, and I’m guessing you do, too.”
“Just be careful.”
Faith laughed and pushed him out the door. “You say that like I’m about to go on an African safari without any protection from the wild animals.”
He groaned. “That’s exactly what you’re doing.”
She just shoved him and then shut the door behind him. Sam was wrong; she wasn’t in danger of Nate or any other man breaking her heart.
She was going to finish her master’s degree, work hard over vacation to save money, and then make her own way in the world. Carve out a career from what she loved. Now was the time to let her hair down, have fun while she planned out her future. If her sexy rancher boss wanted some no-strings-attached fun, one day she might consider it. But not just yet.
Chapter 5
Nate stepped inside and resisted the urge to call out, “Honey, I’m home!” Instead he chuckled to himself and walked down the hall, pausing only to drop his workbag to the floor. It was weird how much he was looking forward to seeing her, given how desperate he’d been to get out of the house and put some distance between them earlier in the day.
“Something smells incredible.”
Faith appeared, barefoot and dressed in skintight jeans and a loose blouse. He sucked in a breath when his eyes traveled up, the blouse unbuttoned just low enough for him to see too much of her breasts. Ordinarily he would have appreciated it, but with Faith it was the last thing he needed, to be distracted by her gorgeous body.
“I went shopping,” she said. “The fridge is full and I have my secret tomato sauce just about ready.” Faith smiled as she spun back around to what she was stirring in a big pan. “I’m hoping you like spaghetti and meatballs.”
Nate shrugged out of his jacket and threw it down over a chair. He could get used to this way too easily, and he wasn’t just thinking about the cooking. Seeing Faith all barefoot and cute in his kitchen was kind of a turn-on.
“I thought you were part Latino,” he joked, raising an eyebrow as he crossed the room and made for the fridge. He needed a beer—it had been a long day--and he also needed something to distract him from Faith.
“Just because I’m Latino doesn’t mean I can’t cook Italian,” she joked back, glancing at him over her shoulder. “I took an Italian cooking course a while back, when I decided that I actually had to get my ass into gear and learn how to create a few culinary masterpieces.”
He grinned. “Well, now that you’ve told me it’s a culinary masterpiece . . .”
Faith laughed at him without looking and it annoyed him. He’d anticipated the flash of her eyes, the warmth in her gaze, and he craved it.
“My Mexican is good, tacos and comfort food, but this was me expanding my skills,” she continued. “I can’t say my father appreciated it. . . .”
“But I will,” he said gruffly, feeling protective over her.
“I bet Mrs. T cooked amazing food for you all the time.”
Nate grunted. Yeah, but she never looked like that when she was doing it. “She always had something waiting for me.”
“Come try this.”
He took a long, deep pull of beer, not answering straightaway. Was she trying to seduce him or did she actually have no damn idea? He stifled a groan. He was going with no damn idea.
“I . . . ,” he started to protest.
“Please,” she said, holding up the wooden spoon and grinning at him. “I need you to tell me if it’s any good.”
Nate met her gaze, stared straight into eyes that he couldn’t decide if they were innocent or the complete opposite. He hauled himself up, leaving his beer and walking tow
ard her. Faith held out the spoon, her eyes widening as he leaned closer and opened his mouth, letting her feed him. The sauce was incredible, full of flavor, but it was the light in her gaze and the wide smile she gave him that nearly took his breath away.
“It’s amazing.”
“Really?”
Nate knew he should have taken a step back, should have put some distance between them, but he was like a magnet drawn to metal. He’d resisted her for so long, stayed away from her, not let himself even think about touching her like he’d wanted to, and now . . . He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, knowing he shouldn’t have, but the urge to touch her was suddenly unbearable.
When she jumped at his touch, pushed back like she was scared, he backed off fast.
“Yes, really,” he finally responded, giving her some more space. “It’s great.”
She didn’t say anything, the spoon still hovering. “Well, ah, good.”
He watched as she took a big breath and moved back closer to him.
Nate closed his hand over her wrist, slowly lowering the spoon and placing it on the bench. Faith was staring at his hand, looking up under hooded lashes when he tightened his hold, only just enough for her to notice. He could see she was breathing hard, but he had no idea whether she wanted him to back off or the complete opposite.
“Are you trying to seduce me?” he asked, his voice barely a gruff whisper.
He watched her swallow, noticed her cheeks turn a soft, tempting shade of pink. He’d never actually seen her blush before, and he liked it.
“No,” she croaked, shaking her head.
“I’ve never had a woman try to seduce me in my own kitchen before,” he told her, releasing her wrist and turning it over in his palm until her hand was facing up so he could trail his fingers across her soft skin. Her hand was trembling. “So, accidental or not, you’re doing a damn fine job of it.”
Faith made a noise that was hard to decipher. “I don’t think I’m even capable of seducing anyone, let alone you. Especially not right now.”
“After what happened?” He felt like shit. “That was seriously insensitive of me, pushing you like that. I’m sorry.”
She slowly took her hand away from his. “I’m not exactly a seductress when it comes to men, Nate. And yeah, what happened has me kind of shaky still. I don’t feel like me again yet, if that even makes sense.”
“I get it.” He stared into her eyes. “I’ll let you come to me next time.”
Her smile was sweet as pie.
“You know, you’re even more tempting because you actually have no goddamn idea,” he said as he took another step back She definitely didn’t know the effect she had on him. “Any other woman, I’d think this was all just a clever plan, but you?” Nate chuckled. “I actually think Sam’s been so good at keeping most of the male population away from you that he’s actually stopped you from realizing the power you have over men.”
Faith laughed. First it was a shy giggle; then she was actually laughing. “I thought you were being serious for a moment.”
She turned her back on him and went back to stirring her sauce, like nothing had happened between them, like she hadn’t managed to tease him and tempt him with her damn Italian sauce.
“Do you want a glass of wine?”
Faith looked up. “I’d love one. A pinot would be great with this dish.”
Nate raised an eyebrow. “And just like that you’re running my household,” he said dryly.
Faith paused, like she was unsure what to say. “Is that why you’re so scared to have a woman in your house, Nate? Because you don’t like the idea of losing control?”
He didn’t even bother answering, just went through to the wine cellar and pulled out a bottle, stopping to check the label before returning to the kitchen. He uncorked it and decanted it before pulling out two oversize wineglasses.
“If we’re going to drink a red, we may as well make it a good one,” Nate told Faith. “If I’d known I would have got you to put it out to get to room temperature a few hours ago.”
Faith nodded and checked the spaghetti, bumping shoulders with him when she turned to drain the water off. “How about you put the wine on the table. I’ll have dinner served up in a few minutes.”
Things were strained between them, suddenly strange, and Nate didn’t like it. One moment they’d been easy; the next it was . . . He cleared his throat, refusing to feel uncomfortable in his own home. He was never uncomfortable, never not in control, especially when it came to the opposite sex. So they’d had a moment. So what? Nothing was going to happen, especially not after hearing how shaken up she still was. He’d been so busy thinking about how to deal with her ex, Nate hadn’t thought about how rough she must be feeling still.
“Anything interesting happen today?” he asked, settling down at the table and stretching his legs out as he tried to make easy conversation. He glanced at a book she had open and reached for her. “Or were you too busy tidying up this pigsty?”
“It was hardly a pigsty.”
Nate flicked through a few pages. The artwork was interesting, but it wasn’t his area of expertise. “You’ve been studying?” he asked.
“No. It’s a new book on contemporary artists. I was just doing some reading for pleasure.”
He watched as Faith tipped spaghetti into an oversize white serving bowl as he undid the top button of his shirt and then the one below. He wore a shirt every day and a suit sometimes, relentless about his appearance given the types of clients he was dealing with and wanting to make sure they realized how seriously he took his role. But even the fact that his closet was full of Dolce & Gabbana and HUGO BOSSdidn’t mean he liked wearing fancy clothes when he could be in jeans and a tee at home.
“You do realize the whole brainy-student thing is kind of sexy, right?” Nate laughed as he said it, wishing he’d just kept it to himself.
Faith glanced at him and raised an eyebrow before spooning the meatballs and sauce on top of the spaghetti. “I’m not that brainy, but thanks.” She smiled and shook her head, like he’d embarrassed her. “I met your sister-in-law,” she said, changing the subject on him.
He leaned back, beer in hand. “Yeah? Which one?”
“Ryder’s wife.”
Nate grinned. “Ah, so you met the lovely Chloe.”
“Yes,” Faith said as she lifted the big bowl and walked toward him. Nate went to jump up, but she just smiled and shook her head, carrying the bowl and placing it down in the center of the table. She’d already set their place mats, and when she sat across from him he leaned forward and poured her wine, doing the same for himself now that he’d finished his beer.
“And what did Chloe want?” he asked, smiling as Faith served up one plate and then passed it to him. “Bet she was all twenty questions trying to figure out what you were doing here.”
“She was just coming by to see you,” Faith told him.
“During the day? I don’t think so.” He chuckled and waited for her to finish serving herself so he could start. Now that the food was in front of him he was starving. “She knew damn well there was a woman here and she wanted to come be all nosey. I’d put money on it, and that’s saying a lot where Chloe’s concerned.”
Come to think of it, Chloe had given him some serious shit about Faith when they’d been drinking at Joe’s one night. Heaven help him if she figured it out; she’d give him hell. If she hadn’t already.
“Well, she seemed lovely, anyway. Once I realized she wasn’t your girlfriend, that is.”
Nate paused with his fork midair, about to twirl his first mouthful of spaghetti. “I don’t have a girlfriend. You think I’d have you here if I did?”
Faith frowned. “What difference would it make?”
Nate fought the urge to laugh at the innocent expression on her face, but he couldn’t help his mouth kicking up into a grin. “If I had a girlfriend, hypothetical of course, there’s no way she’d let me have a woman like you wo
rking for me in my home, let alone staying.” He reached over to touch her hand, meaning to pat her but instead ending up tracing his fingers over the back of her hand, wishing to hell he hadn’t touched her soft skin again. “Sweetheart, you’re way too beautiful for another woman to ever trust you with her man. Believe me.”
Faith stared at his hand for a moment before retracting hers, twirling spaghetti covered with sauce around her fork, and taking a bite. Nate watched her, transfixed by the way she ate, the tiny bit of sauce on her lower lip. He cleared his throat and looked at his own dinner, suddenly more hungry for a certain woman than food.
“Sam came by.”
“Again?” Nate had his mouth full now, the tomato sauce like an explosion on his taste buds. “Damn, this is seriously good.” When she said she’d learned how to cook he hadn’t exactly been imagining something this incredible.
“He wanted to warn me off you one last time.” Now it was Faith with her mouth kicked up into a curve and he had to resist the urge to wipe the smile straight off her face. With his lips.
Brotherly, he reminded himself. He was supposed to be brotherly with her.
“And what did you tell your big bad brother?” Nate asked her.
“Something along the lines of the fact I can look after myself,” she muttered. “Although given my recent track record that didn’t go down so well. But still, I gave it to him straight.”
“I went to school with a guy, was friends with him for years,” Nate said, pausing to take another forkful of spaghetti and meatball and finishing it before continuing. “Anyway, he had a bit of a temper, and one day after we lost a baseball game I came around a corner and caught him kicking the shit out of a dog.”
Faith’s cheeks lost all color. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly.” He grimaced. Just because he didn’t mind talking with his fists when he needed to didn’t mean he’d ever hurt an animal. Or a woman for that matter. “The point is, I’d known him since we were in junior high, and I’d never realized he was capable of doing something like that. He was kicking this poor defenseless dog and she didn’t have a chance of getting away from him, let alone defending herself.”