“Did you find something to cook for dinner? Obviously, this wouldn’t be one of your normal job responsibilities, and I should be back in the office soon, but until then I’m helpless.”
“Chicken piccata and salad all right?”
“Perfect.” But now that we’re not discussing data and market trends, she’s more reserved. Reluctant to engage, even. “Does my request that you cook bother you?”
“No.”
So she’s got something else on her mind. “Do you have everything you need to spend a couple of days here?”
“Yes. Thank you. I’ll…um, start cooking now.” She rises from my office chair and heads for the door.
“Before you go, Savannah, tell me what’s on your mind.”
She pastes on a phony smile. “Nothing.”
I want to vault from this bed, grab her shoulders, and shake the truth from her. Then I want to kiss that pouty bow of a mouth that tempted me the second she stepped into the room before I cover every part of her body with mine and put a real smile on her face. “Are you sure? Remember, I don’t like liars.”
“Does anyone?” she murmurs as she disappears into the hall.
“Fuck,” I snarl under my breath, reach for my phone, and ring Marcus, who answers immediately. “What happened after I fell asleep?”
“Nothing. You drifted off, and I left so I could make my four p.m. with Legal. Everything all right?”
“Savannah didn’t say anything to you?”
“No.”
I’m wasting my time. I’ll use dinner to figure out what’s up with her. “Meeting go smoothly?”
“For the most part. Minor details, but nothing that will stop business. But I need you to sign something. Can I bring it by later?”
“Yeah. Around seven?”
“You got it. Oh, I was still answering Savannah’s Pacific Rim question when I had to leave. Do you have her number so I can finish filling her in?”
I hobble to her résumé on the table near the fireplace and read off her digits. “Anything else?”
“Just keep resting. We miss you around the office, and the rest of the basketball league is wiping the floor with our asses. We need our point guard.”
“It’s going to be a while.” I wince as I settle back onto the bed. “Try not to suck until I get back.”
He laughs as I disconnect the call. But less than a minute later, Marcus texts. Savannah’s phone can’t receive calls at this time? How is that possible?
The question gnaws at me as I flip on a familiar cable business news station and half watch the chyron scroll across the bottom of the screen with weekly unemployment statistics, the price of crude, and the recent spike in gold while I skim my emails.
Then I hear Savannah at the top of the stairs, panting. Instantly, I go hard. Fuck, I’d love to hear her breathing like that while I’m driving deep inside her. But those thoughts are both reckless and unprofessional, and I need to stop.
Settling my computer over my lap, I close the lid and wait for her to enter.
“Everything should be ready in the next twenty minutes,” she says, looking slightly flushed. “I’ll bring your plate up then.”
I’d rather not eat alone. No, that’s not entirely true. I’m used to being alone. I enjoy the quiet. But tonight, I’d rather be with Savannah.
“Thank you. I’ve been using the card table in my closet for dinner. Set that up in here for us. We didn’t finish our interview earlier. We’ll talk while we eat.”
“If I have to bring all that food up five flights of stairs, it will require more trips than I have lungs.”
“You only have to make one trip. Send the food up the dumbwaiter, along with a bottle of wine.”
She frowns. “Should you be drinking if you’re taking pain medication?”
Her attempt to protect me is surprising. “Should you be questioning my judgment?”
“You don’t want me interested in your safety?”
Touché. “What if I told you I would fire you unless you retract that question?”
Savannah pauses the split second it takes to smooth away her alarm. “Obviously, that’s not what I want, but at least I’ll know I tried my best to look out for you.”
Her answer has me suppressing a smile. “The wine is for you.”
“I don’t need—”
“Unless I’m way off, you’ve had a rough time lately.”
She stiffens. “I’m fine.”
Savannah is only saying that because she’s a fighter who doesn’t want my pity. I respect that. But I want to help her, too. “You’re also entitled to a glass of liquid relaxation.”
She cocks her head. “Have you been told that you can be difficult?”
“Not today. Are you rectifying that?”
“Absolutely. If the rest of your staff has been remiss, that might be why you need me.”
My grin widens. Working with Savannah would never be dull. “You might be right.”
With a shake of her head, she crosses my room and opens the door to my closet, then emerges with the card table. She sets it up by my bedside, then drags my office chair closer. “I’ll send the food up and be back shortly.”