Yes, it was true that I loved James. I did. There was nothing I could do about that now.
But it was now truer than ever that I had to protect my heart.
* * *
“You made breakfast?” he asked an hour later. He threw some things on the counter and swept me into his arms. He was so much bigger than me, I felt protected with him wrapped around me. “That was nice of you.”
He kissed me deeply, and I got shaky from it. The raw energy between us was almost overwhelming. I ran my hands down his chest, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt. It should be criminal to be so gorgeous, with all those muscles and that wavy, steel-colored hair; it wasn’t fair. He ran his hands down me, too, kissing me hungrily.
“You make me crazy.” He rested his forehead against mine and held me close. I could feel his erection spring up against me. “I can’t control myself when you touch me.”
“You touched me, boss,” I said. “I was just standing here making French toast.”
“French toast?” He pulled back and looked at the stove hopefully. “That’s my favorite.”
“I know.”
He looked at me, a curious smile on his face. “How did you know?”
“You ordered it at brunch. And you ate it in about two seconds.”
“So you’ve been paying attention,” he said, impressed.
“I’m just trying to earn my keep,” I said. I kissed him on the cheek and smiled, vowing to keep all the wild thoughts and emotions going on inside of me at bay.
“Oh, you’ve earned it,” he said, his eyes flashing at me and that devilish grin coming back. “And then some. You’re absolutely my most valuable employee.”
“Ha,” I said, blushing with a mixture of pleasure and disappointment. I didn’t want to be his employee. I wanted to be his girlfriend. I was, however, pleased that I was pleasing him. I plated some French toast and set it on the island. I poured him coffee, black, like he liked it, and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice. I also set out some blackberries and strawberries. I looked at the spread, impressed. Expensive clothes looked better. Expensive food did, too.
He sat down and looked at the meal before him. “This is lovely,” he said. “Thank you, Audrey.”
“It’s my pleasure. I like taking care of you,” I said and blushed a little more.
There was an expression I couldn’t read on his face. “I like it, too.”
I sat down next to him and he intermittently rubbed my back while he ate. “Do you want some more coffee?” He nodded, and I grabbed his mug. I spied his cell phone and wallet on the table as I headed toward his fancy coffee machine. “Hey, is that my phone?” I asked. It was with his things. I grabbed it and flipped it on.
“Yep,” he said. He gave no explanation as to why he’d had it.
There was a text message from Reina at the center. I read it and kept my back to him while I made his dark roast, feeling a cold rage descend on me. My mother had stolen from Tommy. I made myself push that fact to the side for now: I would deal with her later, when I could.
“Did you take my phone for some reason?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you read this? The message about my mother?” I asked. I held my phone up, but I didn’t turn around to face him.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to tell me why?” I was angry not only about the message itself, but also the fact that he’d read it before me. The fact that he’d read it at all.
“Come here.” I went to him, bringing his coffee and my phone. My guard was way up, on high alert. A man looking at your phone only meant one thing—he’d been snooping. I put the coffee down, and he pulled me onto his lap. I sat there stiffly. “Don’t be mad at me, Audrey.”
“Why did you have my phone?”
“It beeped when you were in the shower.”
“You told me that. When I was in the shower.”