An Irresistible Bachelor(11)

Callie looked away, aware she was staring. "Would you like me to come back in a half hour?"

"Why?" He opened the door.

"So you can, er, get ready."

"Don't worry, I'm fast with a bar of soap."

Now there was an image she could do without.

"Are you coming in," he prompted as she stalled in the doorway, "or are we going to do this in the hall?"

She kicked her chin up and brushed past him.

As she stepped into the suite, her feet slowed. It was a palace, room after room of cream and gold with mahogany furniture and thick swaths of brocade drapes. She could see a dining room, a sitting room, and a bar. In a far corner, there were a couple of other doors that probably led into bedrooms.

"I've ordered us breakfast," he said as he sauntered across an Oriental rug that complemented both the pale walls and the dark furniture. "If they come, will you let them in?"

She nodded and put her coat down on a chair.

When she heard a door shut, she started to study the suite in earnest. She figured she might as well take a good long look because she didn't know when she'd be in a hotel room like this again. A flash of color caught her eye. Lying on the glossy surface of a side table was a woman's scarf and next to it were a pair of heavy gold earrings. Callie walked over for a better look. They were beautiful, expensive things and it was easy to imagine the kind of woman they belonged to.


She was willing to bet whoever it was didn't have a hole in the pocket of her coat.

Were they his girlfriend's? His lover's?

Or was he married? No, that would have made it into the papers.

Once again, she thought about him reaching out and touching her hair the night before. Remembering the way she'd felt, she found the stories about all those women floating in and out of his bedroom totally believable. In that moment as he'd come toward her, his eyes hooded and fixed on her lips, his broad body throwing off waves of heat even through his clothes, she'd had no interest in turning away. She'd been ready to put her hands on those shoulders and pull him to her.

Which proved that he was dangerously attractive and she was clearly out of her mind.

A soft bell chimed and she crossed the room to let in the waiter delivering their breakfast. She stood to the side and watched as he set up a spread on the dining room table. Silver, crystal, porcelain plates, and heavy linens were arranged with precise, efficient movements. The guy was in and out in under ten minutes and he didn't hover for a tip, which was a good thing; she had little to offer him.

Grateful for something to do, Callie sat down at the table and poured herself some coffee. She was lifting the china cup to her mouth when Walker came back into the room.

"Good. I'm starved."

Her hand twitched and some coffee landed on her plate in a brown puddle. She muttered a curse and debated about whether to clean it up while he sat across the table from her.

"Do I make you that nervous?" Walker said in his deep voice.

She glanced up without meeting his eyes. His hair was damp and his crisp white business shirt was open at the collar, revealing the skin of his throat. She smelled his aftershave, something subtle and expensive.

Yes, she thought.

"No," she said. "Does that disappoint you?"

He smiled. "Now why would I want to make you uncomfortable?"

He poured himself some coffee and then picked up a basket of breads and pastries and offered it her. She hesitated.

"Not eating?" he prompted.

She snatched a cinnamon and raisin bagel before realizing what she'd picked. She hated raisins, but she wasn't putting it back, that was for sure.

He put a muffin on his plate and ladled some cut fruit out of a silver bowl. "I’m glad you're coming to work for me."

"I'm looking forward to it," she said from behind her coffee cup.

"Really?" he drawled, starting to eat. "You still seem conflicted."

"How's that?"

"You haven't looked me in the eye yet."

Callie frowned and forced herself to meet his steady gaze. She noticed flecks of green and yellow in the hazel depths staring back at her.

"There, now, that's not so bad, is it?" he teased with a smile.

"Mr. Walker—”

"Jack."

"Jack," she repeated, "why don't we talk about the job?"