Suzie took her hands and squeezed them before giving a reassuring smile. “You’ve turned wimpy. Where is your backbone? This is a big deal for me, and I wouldn’t have booked you if I didn’t think you capable of doing the job. For goodness sake, Hayley, it’s too late to find a replacement for you now.” The words were harsh, but Suzie’s face bore genuine caring and understanding. She knew part of Hayley’s history, but not all of it, and certainly not the latest faux pas.
“Sorry,” Hayley said, ashamed of her selfish behavior. This was her friend’s chance to shine and place herself in a position for a promotion. “Call it temporary insanity.” She forced a smile, wimpish and weak. At least it was a smile and a positive direction. “You’re right. I can use the money. Suzie, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Do you have any headache tablets in your purse? My head is pounding, and I forgot to grab some from the flat.”
“Why didn’t you say? I feel terrible and selfish now.”
Suzie laughed. “You mean all I needed to do was pretend an illness, and you’d go along with my conference plans without a complaint?”
Hayley shook her head, grinning. She produced a box of tablets from the depths of her black handbag and handed them over. “No way. I would have complained a little for form’s sake. So when do I meet the hunky boss? I didn’t meet him at the party.” A fib. Her nose was in real trouble.
“No, he left the party early. Someone said he left with a woman. I’m not sure if he’ll come to check on things or not.”
A sudden stab of anxiety cut through Hayley. Guilt, she assured herself. There had been a lot of people at the party. Her name wouldn’t enter the gossip rounds.
“This is the main conference room, where the attendees gather for part of the day and tonight. They also break for workshops in smaller conference rooms, just down the hall. Lunch and dinner is in the room over there on the right and the cocktail party will take place in the smaller room on the left. We’re going to put you to work during the lunch breaks and perhaps while the main conference is in session. I’ve had my crew set up a special corner for you and we’ve made it look like a French café.”
“But won’t everyone be at the sessions?”
“Some of them are optional. From what I understand, a lot of business is done in between.”
Hayley nodded, part of her excited even though nerves still bounced like dodgems inside her stomach.
“Oh, here’s my boss come to check out my progress. He’s a doll giving me this chance. You’ll like him. Everyone does, despite his playboy status.” Suzie lifted her hand in a wave, and Hayley turned to look in the direction her friend indicated. Her sharp inhalation drew Suzie’s attention.
“What’s wrong?”
“Uh, nothing.” Heck, everything was wrong. Sam. She’d guessed she might run into him and had prepared for the possibility, or tried too. Wrong. Her mouth dried while an unfeminine sweat broke out on her palms. Hayley surreptitiously wiped her hands down her multi-colored skirt. Would he recognize her? She’d die if he said something to Suzie. And Suzie…Suzie would never let her hear the end of it.
“Hi, Sam. I suspected you wouldn’t be able to resist coming to check out my first day,” Suzie said.
“My afternoon is free, so I’m offering my services. I’m yours to order around.” Sam wore a charcoal-gray suit and a crisp white shirt with a pale gray and red tie, every inch the businessman. Hayley wanted to run and hide. She also wanted to run her hands over his muscled chest. Neither was an option. She stood firm and fixed a polite smile on her face.
“You might regret the offer when I get out my whip,” Suzie said with a grin. “This is Madam Deveraux, our tea leaf reader. Madam Deveraux, meet Sam Norville, the owner of Clarkson Enterprises.”
“Ah, yes.” Sam smiled at her and extended his hand. “Madam, Suzie is very excited about adding you to her conference program. I have to admit her ideas for the entertainment are inspired.”
His vibrancy caught her off guard, even though she’d already experienced his personality and charm firsthand. His sexy smile made her melt inside like chocolate on a hot day. Easy to recall what his touch did to her, how it made her ache with longing.
Hayley steeled herself for the quick punch of pleasure she knew would come when they touched. Their palms met in a polite handshake and she barely restrained her gasp of shock. She hadn’t remembered the potency being quite so strong.
She was not attracted to him.
She was not.
A romantic friendship has much in common with a business, her mother always said. Slow and steady brings success, not showy shock tactics, which was why impulsiveness wasn’t in her vocabulary anymore. Or, it wasn’t supposed to lurk there. She’d slipped during the previous weekend. It couldn’t happen again.
“Thank you very much. I’m pleased to meet you,” Hayley said, watching him for any signs of recognition. Her breath eased out after long seconds when he didn’t cry imposter, but the rigid tension in her shoulders remained. Thank goodness she’d taken the time to get into full costume and makeup before arriving.
“What would you like me to do?” Sam asked, speaking to Suzie.
Suzie pulled several sheets of paper from the clipboard she carried and handed them to Sam. “Can you check on the dinner stuff for me? I want to make sure they’ve organized the special vegetarian meals.”
“No problem. I’ll do that now.” He turned to Hayley. “You know I can’t go around calling you Madam. What’s your real name?”
“Harriet,” Hayley said before Suzie could answer.
Suzie sent her a strange look, but Hayley just stared back, praying fervently that her friend wouldn’t dob her in.
“I was just about to show Harriet her station,” Suzie said, stressing the fake name a bit much for Hayley’s liking. Oh, boy. Tangled webs. “Catch you later, Sam.”
A flicker of apprehension coursed through her. She’d always used the name Helen in her dealings with fete and fair organizers. Suzie would wonder why she’d changed. Hayley chewed on her bottom lip, the ground beneath her feet decidedly shaky.
Suzie grasped her arm and towed her into a room decked out like a big circus tent. “Harriet?” she whispered in an undertone.
“I…ah…felt like a change.” Weak, Hayley. Very weak. “Ah, will people want to drink tea? Won’t they want to relax and have an alcoholic beverage?” Change of subject. Well done, Hayley.
“During the day they’re more likely to drink tea, but I’ve organized several people to have their leaves read during the evening to give you a steady stream of customers. I think if people see others having their cups read, they’ll want to have theirs read as well. I’ve kept your area open so others can watch. And I’ve made provisions for private readings should the need arise. Here you go.” She waved her hand at a small area at the side of the room, demarcated by lots of green plants and a white trellis and vines. A small wrought-iron table with two matching chairs sat in semi-privacy. “Look okay?”
“It looks great. You’ve done a wonderful job.” The profusion of plants gave the illusion of privacy despite the openness of the area. Red cushions on the chairs along with a bright red sun umbrella gave the area a café ambience.
“Great. I’ve got to go. I have a million more things to check off my list. If there’s anything you need, shout out and one of my team will organize it for you.” With a quick hug, Suzie hurried off, leaving Hayley staring after her.
“Oh, the tangled webs we weave,” she muttered, prowling around her allocated area.
“Problem?” Sam appeared from around the corner, a quizzical grin curling across his sensual lips. The playboy at his most flirtatious. He’d removed his tie and jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, baring his tanned forearms. His eyes raked over her form, bringing a rash of self-consciousness.
Where was a veil to cover her face and body? Heat suffused her in a wave while she valiantly aimed for inner calm. Oh, boy. Reap what you
sow. He’d recognized her. She’d known it was only a matter of time before someone penetrated her disguise. A knot formed in her throat while she stared at him, heart thumping in alarm. To her dismay, desire shot through her, a pervading weakness. Maybe her mother was right about her character flaws leading her into trouble.
“Problem?” he prompted again. Although he didn’t wink or smile, he still wore a flirtatious air.
“Um, I wondered about a helper. Who will make the tea? It would be more efficient if I had someone to help.”
“Makes sense,” he said. “I’ll check with Suzie. Anything else?”
“Could I check the tea leaves I’ll be using?” If she stuck to business, she’d stay out of trouble.
His brows lifted toward his hairline. “The customer is providing the tea. It’s one of their products.” He stopped short of calling her crazy, but she could tell it crossed his mind.
“The tea leaves need to be a certain size. If the leaves are too big or too small, it will mean my readings aren’t accurate.”
“We can’t have that. How about we do a test run to make sure everything goes smoothly? You can read my fortune or whatever it is you do.” His head cocked to the side, and he wore that flirting-but-not-flirting look again. It sparkled in his brown eyes and made Hayley’s skin crawl with familiar nerves. “Do you have a problem with that?” He sauntered over to a pile of boxes and ripped one open.
“Of course not,” Hayley said, but she lied. She almost touched the tip of her nose to test its size. With the number of fibs she was spouting, a rapidly growing nose wouldn’t surprise her in the slightest. Pinocchio-r-us.
Although she didn’t glance at Sam, she was ultra aware of him, his masculinity. It didn’t help that she knew what he looked like without clothes, the softness of his hair beneath her fingers, the roughness of his stubble against her inner thighs. She recalled the dizzying pleasure as he thrust into her, filling her, and driving her rapidly to pleasure. She suppressed a shiver of pure lust. Barely.
“Do you need a hand?” Please say no. Please say no.
“Sure. You can help me unpack so you can organize your supplies the way you want them.”
Hayley’s shoulders slumped. She turned away, determined to act with a professional mien and not let her mind or eyes wander to his world-class rear end.
The wretched man whistled while he unpacked the tea. It was difficult to keep a smile at bay, difficult to maintain an emotional distance, especially when he grinned at her in that way. Charming. Boyish. Very sexy. And the idea of reading his tea leaves…
“The cups are in the boxes sitting just inside the door.” Sam picked up one of the biggest.
His biceps bulged and his muscles flexed beneath the white shirt. Awareness flooded her body, and she averted her eyes. She’d never get through this gig if she let herself ogle him whenever the urge struck.
Hayley grabbed a box and toted it over to where Sam stood near a sideboard. She set the box down and pulled the flaps open.
Work. She’d concentrate on her job as Madam Deveraux and, once the conference ended, she’d keep well away from Sam Norville and temptation.
Sam sensed the woman’s gaze on his back. The knowledge of her interest seeped through his body until sex and memories of sex reverberated inside his brain. He snorted as his cock stirred, pushing against the fly of his trousers. Hardly the proper thing for work. He unpacked a stack of saucers and placed them on the sideboard.
There was something wrong with his family’s insistence on the existence of love at first sight. If what they believed was true, he wouldn’t crave a second look at Harriet, because he was hung up on the runaway Helen. As it was, he wanted to take a third and fourth look at the sexy tea-leaf reader. Yep, seriously flawed.
When Suzie had shown him her conference proposal, he’d expected an older woman with a few scarves and a voluminous shawl. This sexy siren was unexpected, with her low-cut turquoise top clinging to spectacular curves and the hip-hugging multi-colored skirt. The black heels she wore did things to her long legs, and he had trouble keeping his eyes off. Funny, normally he was a breast man, but the shapely legs and the sway of her curvy rump made him long to touch. He strode across to the door to grab another box, returned to the sideboard and ripped open the flaps.
It just went to prove his family members were certified nutcases, and yanking his chain. He was wise to their tricks. They wanted him to settle down and were real subtle about their mission. He glanced up to find Harriet looking at him again. He winked and took delight in the blush that crawled into her golden cheeks.
“Cups and saucers,” he said, biting back a grin. “Where do you want them?”
“Are you flirting with me, Mr. Norville?”
“Sure am. Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”
“I’m here to do a job, Mr. Norville, not entertain you.”
Her prissy tone intrigued him, since it was at odds with her sultry appearance. “Force of habit,” he said. “I’ll try to control it.”
Harriet nodded and seemed relieved. “See you do.” She flicked a lock of curly hair off her face. The jangle of her bracelets reminded him of the gold charm bracelet he’d found in his bed after Helen had done her disappearing act a week ago.
A modern-day Cinderella who had left him a bracelet instead of a shoe. A grin bloomed inside when he recalled the lacy panties he’d also discovered on his bedroom floor. He’d asked around amongst his workers about a woman named Helen, but no one recalled anyone of that name. Actually, he hadn’t asked Suzie yet. She seemed to know everyone. He made a mental note to check with her later.
“How long have you read tea leaves?” If he couldn’t flirt, he could ask questions, learn what made her tick. He reached past her and caught a whiff of vanilla. Instantly his cock jerked, his mind darting back to Helen. She’d smelled of wildflowers. Damn, the woman haunted him, pushing into his thoughts at all times of the day.
“That’s a nice perfume you’re wearing.” If he kept her talking, she wouldn’t notice his erection, and he’d stop stressing about Helen—the one who got away. “What is it?”
“I use a vanilla-scented shower gel and body lotion.”
Oh, yeah. Now he’d done it. A vision of this sultry stunner standing under the shower, water cascading over her delicious curves popped into his mind. Sam bit back a groan of frustration. He was twenty-eight years old, dammit. In full control of his body. “I like it,” he said.
“Thank you.” A cup and saucer clattered as she arranged it on the table. She grabbed the cup before it tipped and jumped onto the floor. When she reached for more cups, they shook with a subtle rattle.
Sam studied her when she wasn’t looking. What did she have to be nervous about? “I don’t bite, you know.”
Her head jerked up and her golden eyes settled on him. “But you keep looking at me as if you’d like to bite. It’s making me nervous.”
Sam chuckled, but didn’t deny her accusation. “You must have men looking at you all the time.”
She tossed her head. “No, not really.”
“What, men don’t hit on you?”
“No,” she said and reached for the next box of cups.
Intriguing, and he didn’t believe it for a moment. The woman oozed sex appeal. But her words and bearing told him she assumed men didn’t look at her. “Are you married?”
“No.”
“Are you engaged or going out with anyone?”
“No.” She stilled, sending him a wary look.
“So, you’re a free woman?”
“Yes. I mean, no.” The guarded expression on her face deepened, and she chewed on her bottom lip, leaving it bright red and moist. “I don’t mix my business and private lives,” she finished in what he called her prim voice.
“There you are, Sam. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
Sam groaned. Great. Just great. Melissa Cartwright, a director of Wainwright Teas, had a thing for him and nothing he did or said see
med to distract the woman from her goal. She had her sights fixed on marriage, which was part of the reason he’d delegated this conference to Suzie. That, and the fact he considered his employee ready for the responsibility. Melissa was nice enough, but not his type. Hell, he didn’t have a type, which was part of his problem according to his family.
“Melissa, this is my girlfriend, Harriet.” Sam worked with the tools he had at hand. He stepped close to Harriet and slipped his arm around her slender waist. “Harriet, this is Melissa Cartwright, one of the directors of Wainwright Teas.” Harriet tensed and he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Please save me,” he pleaded in a whisper intended only for her. “I’ll owe you big time.”
Huh! Throwing himself at the mercy of strange women was becoming a habit. Probably time for him to modify his strategy or he’d land in big trouble.
“Only if you stop flirting with me,” she whispered back.
“Deal.” He’d renegotiate later. After all, flirting came as naturally to him as breathing and, according to some, making money.
The gypsy pulled away and smiled at Melissa, extending her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, and I’m looking forward to the conference.”
A small frown appeared between Melissa’s eyes. She shook hands with Harriet, but didn’t appear pleased. “Oh,” she said. “The conference is only for people in the industry.”
“Melissa, Harriet is working at the conference. She reads tea leaves.” Sam stepped close to Harriet, unable to resist touching her again. He tugged her against his side.
“That’s right,” Harriet said, tensing at the contact. “I’m excited about working for you, Ms. Cartwright.”
The woman shrugged. “Personally I think it sounds like a load of rubbish, but my brother okayed the conference program.” She sauntered away, uncaring about her rudeness.
Harriet stood stiffly at his side, staring after Melissa. “I should be used to that reaction, but most of the people I come into contact with are at fetes and fairs. They’re there to have a good time and come because they want to.”
“The conference attendees will not differ from your usual customers,” Sam said, seeking to reassure her. He’d felt her slight tremble and gave her a light squeeze of reassurance. Or at least he’d intended keeping it casual. Once he’d touched her, he didn’t want to let go. Her floral scent filled each breath, making him yearn for greater liberties.
Reformed Bad Girl Page 4