She smiled and kissed him. “She’s having a sleepover with one of her friends. So I have all night to spend with you.”
“Lucky me.” He reached for his glass of Champagne, but he wasn’t smiling. “Here’s to sleepovers.”
* * *
“We sold a lot of meals tonight,” Julia said, giving him the number.
Nico pulled out his counter and looked at the number. His jaw tightened. “I counted five more meals than that.”
Julia pressed her lips together, anger sparking in her eyes. “Someone stole the money for five more meals tonight? And the bar tabs?”
Nico held up his hand, wishing he’d softened the blow. “I might have miscounted,” he said. “I was watching the servers come out with meals as I was doing my work. I might have missed some.”
She tilted her head and studied him. “Do you think you miscounted, Nico?”
“It’s possible.” He shrugged, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t.
“But you don’t think you did,” she said, her voice flat.
He took a deep breath. “No. I’m pretty sure I counted them all.” He leaned closer to Julia. “Compared to some of the times I’ve needed to multi-task, tonight was a piece of cake. I’m used to focusing on several things in far deadlier situations.”
She slumped in her chair, shoving her fingers through her hair. Some springy strands came loose, bounced on her shoulders. Nico wanted to curl them around his fingers. “So you were right. Someone is stealing from me.”
He moved closer until he could crouch beside her. “I hate having to tell you this. But you need to know. Now, once Zoe has her software installed on your system, you can fix it.”
She turned to face him, her mouth pinched, desolation in her eyes. “If I can’t fix it, I’m going to lose the restaurant,” she whispered. “I’m barely making it as it is. My blog posts have brought in more customers, but not enough.”
“Once Zoe installs that software, you should be able to figure out who’s taking the money. I doubt you’ll get it back, although Blackhawk security has a kick-ass forensic accountant who can try to find it. At the very least, you can fire whoever is involved. And maybe Zoe can figure out a way to make your system more secure. That’s her specialty, right?”
She nodded, running her hands through her hair again. More curls came loose. “I hope we can stop the bleeding before the restaurant is too far gone to be saved,” she said.
Nico touched her hand, and she turned her fingers so their palms pressed together. Her hand shook, and he tightened his fingers around hers. He hated that she had to deal with this financial strain, along with everything else going on.
On impulse, he cupped her elbows and lifted her from her chair. Wrapped his arms around her and held her against him. Her hair smelled like the restaurant -- the scent of food and spices. He pressed a kiss to her head and ran a hand up and down her back. Wanted to touch far more than her back, but he forced his hand to stay firmly in place. Not drift lower and cup her ass, as his fingers ached to do. “Zoe said she should have something tomorrow. Once her fixes are installed, we might even know tomorrow night who’s stealing from you.”
“I should fire Carole, Ruth and Andra tomorrow before we open,” she whispered into his shoulder. “Stop the bleeding.”
Even through his shirt, Juila’s warm breath lit fires against his skin. In his blood. It made his heart thump against his ribs. He wanted to abandon all the rules. Ease her pain. Make her forget about the danger to Madeline’s.
But he couldn’t allow himself to lose focus. Her safety depended on it. He had to concentrate on Julia’s problems and not get sidetracked by his inconvenient, inappropriate craving for Julia. He needed to ignore the desire that was a fire in his chest. It kept him awake at night, listening to her breathe in the other bedroom, wishing he was in that bed with her.
Taking a deep breath, he stroked down her back one last time. He had to think clearly. Her scent, the way she felt pressed against him, was a dangerous distraction. One he couldn’t afford. He wasn’t here to seduce Julia. He was here to keep her safe and figure out who was behind these incidents.
Squeezing her tighter for a long moment, he finally forced himself to set her away from him. “You can’t fire them yet.” he said, throwing cold water on both her urgent need to get rid of the three women and his need for her. “You need some proof,” he said, hating to be the voice of reason. “Without proof, they’ll file for unemployment, and your unemployment tax payments would go way up.”
“You’re right,” she sighed, stepping closer and pressing against him. “We couldn’t afford that, either.”
“Let’s go home so you can get some sleep,” he said, allowing himself to smooth his hand down her back one final time. “Nothing you can do about this right now.”
He tried to step away, but she looped her arms around his neck. Stared up at him. “Thanks for being the voice of reason,” she whispered. Then she lifted onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his.
That small touch of her lips against his sent a blast of heat surging through him, along with need and desire. Without thinking, he pressed his mouth more firmly against hers. He’d pulled her closer to comfort her. But at the touch of her mouth, he lost all control.
The savory smell of the kitchen clung to her, but beneath it, he was aware of her scent, spicy and tart. Lemons and cinnamon. She tasted of the coffee she’d been drinking, and the tomatoes and cheese from whatever meal she’d eaten standing up in the kitchen.
He’d wanted to kiss her from the moment he’d seen her at the compound. Now, tasting her at last, everything disappeared from his mind but the need to push her against the wall and lift her so their bodies aligned perfectly. Kiss her and touch her and taste her until she came apart in his arms. Then do it all over again.
Every molecule in his body ordered him to move closer. To drag her against him and taste every inch of her. Cup her curves in his hands and draw moans from deep in her throat.