Out of Hours...Boardroom Seductions: One-Night Mistress...Convenient Wife / Innocent in the Italian's Possession / Hot Boss, Wicked Nights. Anne Oliver

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СКАЧАТЬ yeah. Lisa’s competent. Not as good as your mother—or you, for that matter,” he said, his eyes warm as they met hers over the candle on the small restaurant table, “but I’m not having you back.”

      “Don’t want me in your office?” Natalie teased.

      His smile broadened. “Rather have you in my bed.”

      She was in his bed again, scant hours later. She went home to feed Herbie when they got back, but then Christo said, “Come to me.”

      And she did.

      They made love once, twice. And once more before morning. Natalie stayed the night because she wanted to, and because Christo never indicated she should go.

      When she opened her eyes in the morning, it was to find him already up and out of the shower. He was buttoning a long-sleeved dress shirt as he stood at the foot of the bed, but his eyes were not on the buttons. They were on her.

      “Good morning.” She smiled sleepily up at him and was gratified to see him smile in return.

      “Morning. You going in to your office this morning?”

      “Yes. But first I have to stop by Scott’s and see how the new ‘wife’ is working out.”

      He nodded. “I was thinking I might try to get home a little early. Maybe we could go down to Redondo to the pier, catch a bite there, then go to a movie.”

      “I—” Natalie’s reply caught in her throat “—can’t.”

      Christo’s fingers stilled on his shirt. “Can’t?”

      “My niece is spending the weekend with me. She’s coming this evening.”

      “For the whole weekend?”

      Natalie gave him a helpless shrug. “I didn’t realize when I said I’d take her that I’d have a better offer. I think we’ll go to the beach. You could join us.”

      But Christo shook his head. “No.” He shoved his shirt into his trousers, then fastened his belt and looped a tie around his neck.

      Putting on his armor, Natalie thought.

      “I’ve got plenty to do,” he said, his tone dismissive now.

      “But—”

      He knotted the tie, then turned to face her. “Don’t worry about it. Enjoy yourself. How about Sunday night?”

      “For us, you mean?”

      He nodded.

      “Yes. I’ll be having dinner with them when they come to pick her up. But after—unless you want to come along.”

      Once more he shook his head. “Have fun. Gotta go.”

      And just like that, he was gone.

      Friday night with Jamii meant non-stop chatter and homemade tacos, baking cookies and watching DVDs.

      Jamii wanted to invite Christo.

      Natalie blanched, imagining what he would say to that. “You don’t even know him!”

      “Of course I know him,” Jamii said huffily. “He’s my friend. Me an’ him an’ Grandma go bowling together.”

      “Bowling?” Natalie simply stared at her niece.

      “Uh-huh. So I do know him. Sometimes I eat breakfast with him when Grandma fixes it. An’ he has good cereal. Cap’n Crackle.”

      Natalie hadn’t noticed that when she’d been in his kitchen yesterday. But she began to realize that Jamii really did know him. Still he hadn’t accepted her invitation this morning.

      Which meant what? It wasn’t too hard to figure out when she let herself think it through. Christo was fine relating to Jamii when she was with Laura. He liked Jamii and the relationship then, but not when it involved Natalie. Natalie, as the woman he took to bed, belonged in a different box in his life.

      So she didn’t expect to see him until Sunday night.

      She and Jamii went to the beach Saturday afternoon. They spread their towels out at the top of the rise of the sand where it was still damp from the highest tides, but where at this time of day the water never reached. Unlike the old Jamii who used to make a beeline for the water, this one lay face down on the sand and began to dig a tunnel and make a castle. Natalie left her to it, picking up a book and trying to read.

      The stream of chatter didn’t let her get much read. But she kept her eyes on the pages, so she was unprepared for Jamii’s sudden yelp. “Christo!”

      “Hey, Jamii. What’s up?”

      Natalie’s gaze jerked up to see the man himself standing there with his surfboard under his arm, dripping his way up from the water.

      “Wanna build a castle with me? I’m making a whole city with lotsa tunnels, but I need a longer arm.” She looked from his face to his arm hopefully.

      “Jamii—” Natalie began to warn her off, not wanting her niece disappointed.

      But to her surprise, Christo, after only a brief moment’s hesitation, stuck his board in the sand and dropped down beside her.

      “I could do that.” He glanced at Natalie, but she couldn’t read anything in his expression besides simple friendliness. “Hey.”

      “Er, hey.” What else, after all, was there to say?

      It was the most bizarre afternoon Natalie could ever remember.

      On the surface it looked perfectly straightforward and normal. Anyone seeing them would just think that they were a family—two parents and a child, enjoying a Saturday afternoon on the beach together.

      Of course, they were anything but.

      In fact, she kept expecting Christo to finish whatever bit he was doing, then get up and leave. He didn’t do “entanglements,” after all.

      But he stayed on. He was totally engaged in working with Jamii, talking to her, listening to her, patiently showing her how to create stability in the walls they were making.

      “You could help,” he said to Natalie once.

      So she did. Some other children came by and wanted to help, too. Christo welcomed them all. He was like the Pied Piper to all of them. Jamii wasn’t the only one who would have followed him anywhere by the time they had finished.

      Even Natalie went down to the water with him to wash off the sand, then came back and dropped down on the towel. “Don’t you want to rinse off?” she asked her niece.

      Jamii just shook her head no.

      “Suit yourself,” Natalie said, resigned to getting Jamii to take a shower when they got back to the apartment. She tried to focus once more on her book when a shadow fell across her lap.

      Christo, СКАЧАТЬ