by Lori Foster
“So Agatha, what are you doing here?”
Agatha set her purse aside and smiled. “As I said, I came to visit Grace. I like her.”
“Huh. S’that why you fired her? Because you like her so much.”
“You’re the one to blame for that, Noah.”
“How’d you figure that?”
Agatha strolled over to a bookcase and surveyed Grace’s eclectic collection of books. She pulled out one on baby names. Noah tried not to stare.
Baby names?
Lifting a brow as if to emphasize her point, Agatha added, “You put me in a no-win situation. Grace is a friend as well as my personal secretary, but Kara is your fiancée.”
“Ex-fiancée. I wish you’d try to remember that.”
Agatha gave one condescending nod. “Be that as it may, Kara is still a close friend, and her parents are like family. I had to do something or risk alienating Grace and Kara both. With your actions, you forced me to fire Grace. It was the only solution.”
Noah didn’t want to accept that he might very well be to blame for Grace’s current circumstances. And he was still distracted by that damn book, though he thought he hid it well. “I need a cup of coffee. You want to join me?”
“Thank you.” Agatha strode forward. “I recall that Grace makes excellent coffee.”
Noah ground his teeth together. As Agatha’s secretary, Grace shouldn’t have been assigned the duty of coffeemaking. Agatha had a housekeeper to take care of that chore.
He found two mugs in the cabinet over Grace’s sink and set them out. Knowing Agatha favored both sugar and cream, he did some more rummaging around the pristine kitchen until everything was on the table.
The more he saw of Grace’s apartment, the more he liked it. Her kitchen was small but brightly decorated with yellow-patterned wallpaper and sky blue rag rugs. Her canisters were shaped like smiling cows and her salt and pepper shakers were small pink pigs, one sporting a top hat, the other a Sunday bonnet.
Noah grinned as he helped himself to a slice of crispy bacon. He was ravenous after the long night of debauchery.
Rather than sit at the table with Agatha, Noah leaned against the sink. There was nothing he could tell his grandmother about the breakup, so he didn’t address that issue at all, choosing to go straight to the point instead. “As you can see, Grandmother, you came at a bad time. Grace and I have plans.”
“To do what?” she asked, her tone cool.
“Nothing that concerns you.”
Agatha stiffened, then went through the routine of doctoring her coffee. Finally, she said, “I need to be at the restaurant soon. It seems we have a rebellion on our hands.”
Noah gave Agatha a sharp look. Old instincts were hard to break, and he almost asked her to explain. As Grace had said, he had friends at the restaurant, people he cared about. Agatha’s interference at this point would only make matters worse.
At the last second, Noah caught himself. It wasn’t easy, but he managed a credible shrug of unconcern. “You mean you have a rebellion. I’m out of it, remember?”
“You can’t tell me you don’t care, Noah. I know you better than that.”
He shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t think you know me at all.”
Agatha looked stricken for only a moment; then she rallied. She cloaked herself in belligerence. “I went out of my way to come here and I don’t have much time. Surely you can see Grace whenever you like?”
She made it sound like a question, putting Noah on alert. He wondered what she was up to now.
“Not so.” No way in hell was he going to leave Grace alone with his grandmother until he knew what she wanted. “Grace got a new job and she has to work later, so her time today is limited.”
Agatha froze. “Where is she working?”
Wondering what his grandmother’s reaction would be, Noah sipped his coffee and looked at her over the rim. “She’s waiting tables in the bar for Ben.”
Agatha dropped her spoon to the tabletop with a clatter. She appeared genuinely horrified. “She’s what?”
Gratified that his grandmother liked it even less than he did, Noah expounded on Grace’s new employment. “She started yesterday, and from what I can tell, she loves it.”
“But that’s absurd!”
Noah shrugged, adding slyly, “Evidently, compared to her old job, working in a bar is a lot of fun.”
Since her old job had been with Agatha, his grandmother looked ready to have a full-fledged fit. Noah hid his grin behind another sip of steaming coffee. He could see why Ben went out of his way to rile her. There was a certain pleasure to be found in making Agatha Harper lose her mask of cold hauteur.
Noah detailed Grace’s duties. “She’ll be waiting tables, serving food and alcohol. Not just during the day, but late at night, too.”
Agatha sputtered, she was so indignant. “That place is…”
“Ben has it mostly under control,” Noah interrupted before Agatha could go off on a tangent. “He’s really turned it around. It was a complete dive when he first bought it, but now it’s pretty respectable. Most of the time, anyway.”
Noah couldn’t let Agatha make slurs against Ben. But he appreciated, even welcomed, this proof that she cared for Grace. He should have already known it; after all, who could be close to Grace and not love her?
Those sentiments echoed in Noah’s mind and he promptly choked. He’d been closer to Grace than anyone.
Agatha slanted Noah a curious look. “Regardless of Ben’s admirable work ethic and all his well-meaning efforts, the hotel bar is still no place for a young woman like Grace.”
Noah blinked twice at what clearly was a compliment for his little brother. Wait until he told Ben! He was likely to faint from shock.
Shaking himself, Noah said, “My sentiments exactly. Many of the men at the bar can be crude and pushy. Grace is too open, too caring, and far too naïve to deal with drunks. And every Friday and Saturday night, the bar has a few.”
Agatha slapped her hand down onto the table. “Noah Harper, if you truly understand how naïve Grace is, then why in the world are you toying with her?”
Damn. She’d turned that one around on him. Noah took his time stealing another piece of bacon before answering. It gave him time to think, but unfortunately, he had no arguments to offer. “My relationship with Grace is my own business.”
“A relationship implies there’s more than what meets the eye.” Agatha stared at him hard. “Are you telling me you actually care for Grace?”
“I’m telling you,” Noah said through his teeth, “to butt out.”
Agatha pushed to her feet, outraged at such rudeness.
Noah shoved away from the countertop, tired of her interference.
“Grace needs someone to look out for her. I’m taking on that responsibility.”
“I’m not discussing this with you, Agatha.” In the past, Noah had made a habit of trying to please his grandmother. That had obviously been a mistake. He’d already made up his mind that if they were to deal well together, it’d have to be on his terms for a change.
“I’d like to make you an offer.”
Noah froze. His stomach tightened and his thoughts narrowed. “What kind of offer?”
“Despite your contrary determination to deny it, I know you love Harper’s Bistro, and I know that I need you there. I’ll accept that. I’ll also accept that things are over between you and Kara.”
Noah didn’t so much as blink an eye.
Agatha drew a deep breath. “I’ll gladly reinstate you into the family, and I’ll hire Grace back.”
Noah forced the words past his apprehension. “Yeah? So what’s the catch?”
Agatha locked her gaze with his. “I want you to marry Grace.”
Shock, followed by disappointment, slammed into Noah with blinding force. “Goddammit.” He plunked his mug down on the counter so hard the handle broke off. He turned his back to Agatha, trying but failing to get a grip on his temper. �
��I fucking knew it.”
“You watch your mouth, young man!”
His hands curled into fists. A red mist swam in front of his eyes, mostly because he’d been duped. He’d stupidly hoped she was sincere.
Noah’s jaw ached and his words were hard and clipped. “You just can’t trust my decisions, can you?”
She waved that away. “Think about it. This will stop the gossip against Kara and it’ll spare Grace’s reputation. Sleeping around is one thing, but if you marry Grace, everyone will think it’s romantic, that you were both swept away on love.”
“And to hell with what I want?”
Agatha raised her voice in annoyance. “Well, given your intimate relationship, I assumed you wanted Grace.”
He laughed at her audacity. “No.”
She fell silent for a long moment. “What does that mean?”
Anger, not honesty, forged his reply. Noah braced his hands on the sink and concentrated on not shouting. “I said no. No I don’t want your deal, and no I won’t marry Grace. If I ever get engaged again, it’ll be to a woman I choose, not one you line up for me.”
“You won’t even consider it?”
His voice rose with his irritation. Lately he’d done nothing but consider his relationship with Grace—and he still had no set answers. He shook his head, denying his grandmother, denying his own confusion. “Hell no.”
“Then you should leave her alone!”
“That,” Noah growled, “isn’t your decision to make.” No way would he walk away from Grace now. Hell, he doubted he could.
A very small voice intruded on his thoughts. “I agree.”
Noah swung around. Grace stood in the kitchen doorway, her face pale, her eyes watchful. Wounded.
She wore a long loose sundress of soft green that made her skin look creamy and emphasized her big dark eyes. Her feet were bare, her arms crossed protectively over her middle. Her long hair, still damp, had been neatly braided and hung over her shoulder to rest against her breast.
Noah took a step toward her. “Grace…”
She turned to his grandmother. “Agatha, I’d like you to leave now.”
Agatha worried her thin hands together. “How long have you been eavesdropping, young lady?”
Grace gave a sad smile. “I heard the raised voices. I hurried to dress because I thought…” Her words fell into silence, then she shook her head. “Never mind.”
But Noah knew what Grace had been about to say. She’d thought she might need to protect him again.
Instead, she was the one who needed protecting.
Noah wanted to curse, to punch the wall. He wanted to lift Grace up in his arms and hold her. But she didn’t so much as glance at him, and the sudden emotional distance was unbearable.
“Please, Agatha.” Grace kept her head high, her voice gentle. “I think you should go.”
“Yes.” Agatha glanced at Noah. She appeared as concerned, as apologetic as he felt. Neither of them had meant to hurt Grace. She’d been an innocent bystander in their verbal battle for control. “Yes, I need to be going. There are issues to be resolved at the restaurant.”
She embraced Grace, even kissed her cheek. Grace held herself away, distant in a way Noah had seldom observed.
Agatha pretended nothing had happened. “Please, if you find time, Grace, I’d love for you to visit.”
At any other time, Noah might have been amazed at his grandmother’s effrontery. She’d fired Grace and now invited her over for a friendly visit.
But at the moment he was too concerned with Grace’s feelings to notice anything else. She escorted Agatha back through the living room. Noah stood in the kitchen doorway, watching in silence.
Agatha paused. “Grace, I didn’t mean…”
“I know.” Grace pulled the door open and waited.
With nothing more to say, Agatha left. Her step wasn’t as spry as usual, and Noah spared a moment’s worry for his cantankerous grandmother.
When Grace started back into the kitchen, Noah refused to move. He felt volatile with a mixture of guilt and determination.
Grace cleared her throat. “I’ll start the eggs.”
“I said I’d cook them.”
She stared past his right shoulder. “Okay. I can do the toast.”
Her agreeable tone rankled. Noah unfolded his arms and tried to loosen his knotted muscles. “This isn’t going to work, Gracie.”
“What won’t work?” Now her normally direct gaze was on his throat. She obviously didn’t want to look at him, but he wasn’t going to stand for that.
Noah shook his head and pinched her chin. “You’re pissed off at me, but you’re trying to hide it.”
Startled, she jerked her attention to his face. “Of course I’m not mad. Why would you think that?”
“You won’t look at me.”
“I’m looking at you now.”
“Sort of,” he agreed. “But not like you usually look at me.”
She edged past him into the kitchen. Her breasts brushed his chest, her belly brushed his hip. “I’m embarrassed, if you want the truth.”
“I always want you to be truthful with me, Grace. You know that.”
She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs and the butter. “All right.” She looked expectantly at him. “Do you really want to cook, or do you want me to?”
Impatience nearly choked him. “I’ll do the damn eggs.” He strode to the stove and flipped on the burner switch to heat the pan. “Tell me what you’re embarrassed about.”
Her brow puckered with a small frown. “Your grandmother is trying to force you to do things with me that you don’t want to do.”
Noah put a pat of butter in the hot skillet and expertly cracked four eggs. “After last night, I’d think you’d realize there isn’t much I don’t want to do with you.”
Grace dropped bread into the toaster, then watched it, as if making toast required her rapt attention. “Sexually, yes. That was our agreement.”
Noah pointed the spatula at her. “I’ll tell you what, Grace. I’m getting damned sick and tired of you throwing that stupid agreement into my face.”
Like a small volcano erupting, Grace lost her temper. She whirled toward him, a butter knife clutched in her hand. “It was your agreement!” She poked the knife toward him for emphasis. “You”—poke, poke—“came up with it and all I did”—she pointed the knife at herself—“was agree.”
“Damn it, be careful before you stab yourself.” Noah put down the spatula and wrestled the knife away from Grace. She started to turn away, but he caught her upper arm. “You know good and well what I’m saying here, Grace.”
She yanked free of his hold, then went on tiptoe, her eyes blazing with dark fury. “You were very clear, thank you.”
“Shit.” He caught both her arms this time. “I’m not talking about my conversation with Agatha.”
Grace scowled. “No? You’re talking about our agreement, then?”
“Quit calling what we have an agreement.” That damn word felt like a curse on his tongue.
“What would you call it?”
“Why do we have to call it anything?” he asked, for lack of a better answer. “Why not just enjoy ourselves?”
“I am enjoying myself.” She sounded angry.
Noah rubbed her arms, trying to calm her. “Right. Sex and only sex.”
Her chin lifted high. “That’s what you said you wanted.”
He laughed. Grace was rather cute in her pugnacious, antagonistic mood. “Lately, I’ve been a fool in more ways than one.”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head furiously. “You are not a fool. And in this case, you were right. Anything more than sex between us would be ridiculous.”
It was Noah’s turn to go quiet with anger. Here he was, struggling to figure out his relationship with Grace, and she flatly denied any relationship.
He curled his mouth without humor. “If we’re going to be accurate, I believe I said I w
anted hot, wet, grinding sex and a woman who’d give it to me any way I asked.”
Grace’s eyes warmed, and some of her belligerence melted away, replaced by that awesome awareness that never failed to steal his breath. “Yeah, so?” Her glare lingered. “I remember.”
Noah lowered his voice, rubbed her naked shoulders. “And still you said yes.”
A pulse in her throat thrummed. “I’ve held to my end of the bargain.”
Noah suddenly smelled the eggs and released her to take them from the pan. He put two in each plate and turned off the stove. “Breakfast will wait.”
She took a step back. “What are you going to do?”
“Anything I want Grace, right?” Slowly, with precise movements, he pulled his shirt off over his head. “You’re so fond of reminding me that we have an agreement. You want to stick to the letter of that agreement. Great. Who am I to complain?”
She eyed his naked chest and started breathing a little harder. “Noah, I…”
“Take off your dress, Grace.”
She backed up against the refrigerator and stood there frozen. For the moment, he ignored her and went about clearing the table.
“Noah?”
He flattened a hand on the tabletop and tested the sturdiness. “I think this’ll support us, don’t you?”
She stared at the table, wide-eyed and apprehensive. “We…we were going to have breakfast.” Noah could hear her breathing, fast and low.
Slanting her a look, he said, “I’d rather eat you than eggs anytime.”
Her lips parted. She folded her hands over her belly, holding herself. “But…”
“You’re not finishing your sentences, Grace.” She looked confused, uncertain, and turned on. Already her nipples were puckered, pressing against the soft material of her dress. Her toes curled against the linoleum floor and her mouth quivered.
Noah wasn’t sure what he wanted to prove, but determination to prove it rode him hard. “Hey, that’s okay. I’d rather you get naked than talk anyway.”
She looked around the kitchen—at the cooked eggs, the cleared table, then back at him. “You’re angry.”
“Nope.” Noah opened the fastenings to his slacks and pulled down the zipper to ease the restriction against his erection. “I’m aroused. There’s a fine difference there.” He sat down and pulled off his shoes and socks.