In truth, there were no security cameras and there was no way Claire would take her clothes off and slip naked into his pool. Which was why she could joke about it. Despite the provocative nature of the banter, Claire was a very proper and modest twenty-seven-year-old widow who still wore her wedding band. She obviously wasn’t over her husband, a hero who’d died two years earlier when a suicide bomber attacked his military convoy.
“I guess I better go review the video,” he said, filling his voice with lighthearted good humor. “What day might that have been?”
“I’m not gonna tell you.” Her grin wasn’t flirtatious, merely one of standard amusement. “It’ll give you something to do while I’m vacuuming upstairs. You do get underfoot these days.”
She was plainspoken and treated him like a cross between an older brother and the senile uncle everyone humored. It was his fault. When he hired her a year ago, he’d set the tone for their relationship, wanting—no, needing—someone in his life whom he could be himself around. That was part of why she’d crept beneath his skin. He didn’t hold back around her. She was the one person who had heard all his darkest thoughts, his doubts, his secrets.
Except in one area: the way he’d come to feel about her.
And in turn, she’d talked to him about growing up in San Francisco and how she met her husband. Her eyes glowed when she talked about him and turned teary when she spoke of how Honey would grow up never knowing her father. Claire was not a woman who loved easily and then moved on.
How could he take advantage of someone like that? A single mother with no one to turn to if she lost both her job and the place she lived.
He might not be the best guy in the world—London could attest to that—but there were some lines he wouldn’t cross. And seducing Claire was one of them.
* * *
Claire’s heart ached as she watched Linc with Honey. The man was too ridiculously good-looking for her peace of mind. Since he broke off his engagement to London, it had become harder and harder to resist fantasizing about her and Honey being part of Linc’s family. When the daydreams were at their strongest, she slid on her rubber gloves and cleaned his bathroom. Reminding herself that she was his housekeeper—not a beautiful, successful and pedigreed Charlestonian woman—grounded her flights of fancy. After all, Linc’s mother, Bettina Thurston, had barely tolerated London, and the socialite had had it all: money, success and beauty.
Claire stared at Linc’s bulging biceps as he lifted Honey high into the air and whirled her around until she shrieked in excitement. It was nearly impossible to deny the man’s appeal when he made her child happy. Nor did it help that his strong jaw, laughter-filled blue eyes and sensual lower lip made her blood run hot. Most days she wished he acted the part of a self-absorbed, successful jerk who thought all women were there to satisfy him. Then she wouldn’t have had any tingly feelings for him.
“What are your plans for today?” he asked, settling Honey against his chest.
Her baby patted his cheek with a chubby palm and cooed at him. But Linc’s bright blue eyes remained focused on Claire and the steadiness of his gaze made her temperature rise. She wanted to fan herself and drawl, Oh, my. She’d felt that way a lot since the baseball season ended and he’d returned from Texas. Too often. She couldn’t let this go on. There had to be some way to stop or at least slow her ever-increasing attraction to him.
Claire pictured his mother’s reaction to her predicament and that worked pretty well to cool her fever. Bettina was a true Southern belle from an old family line and rarely missed an opportunity to mention it. Having a pedigree in this town wasn’t synonymous with having money. Even though Bettina’s family had lost much of their fortune in the 1930s, her social standing hadn’t been lowered, which made it unrealistic that she would accept Claire as a suitable match for her son.
“Claire?” Linc’s deep voice roused her from her thoughts.
“I’m sorry. I was thinking about al
l the things I have to do today.”
“What if I take Lil’ Bit here off your hands, so you can get everything done faster and knock off early?” He tickled Honey, prompting a delighted giggle.
Claire shook her head. It wasn’t professional to let her boss play nanny, but in the months she’d worked for Linc, the line had grown ever more blurry between employer and friend.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “I can take care of everything.”
Yet the way the pair got along, it was tempting to surrender Honey to Linc’s care. And Claire had other concerns. With Jasper dead, Honey was going to grow up without a father. Claire wanted her daughter to know a good man, but she couldn’t let that be Linc. Plus, she worried that Honey would get attached to him in ways she shouldn’t. What happened when Linc got married and started to have babies of his own? How confused would Honey be when his children took his full attention and he had no more time for her?
“I could use the company,” Linc continued.
Curse the man for being so persistent.
Claire opened her mouth to refuse yet again, but something in his manner stopped her. Since breaking off his engagement to the incredibly beautiful and successful London, his behavior had changed. It was as if he’d lost a bit of his cockiness, which was strange, since she knew he was the one who’d ended things. Maybe Linc had decided that had been a mistake.
London had already rebounded, making a splash in the society pages after being seen on the arm of millionaire playboy and race car driver Harrison Crosby. Claire wouldn’t be surprised if Linc was a little jealous that London had bounced back so fast.
“You can’t watch Honey,” Claire said, plucking her daughter from his grasp.
Honey protested being taken away from Linc, but Claire struggled to maintain a severe expression while ignoring her daughter’s scowl. It was like trying not to smile at a puppy growling fiercely as it plays. Honestly, the child was too adorable for her own good. She’d inherited her father’s charisma. The man could charm fruit off trees. Or the pants off unsuspecting culinary school students, which was what she’d been when they first met.
“If I remember correctly,” Claire continued, “you’re supposed to have lunch with your mother today.”
Linc made a face. “I haven’t forgotten.”
He grabbed his duffel bag and turned to leave the kitchen. Before he took more than two steps, Claire cleared her throat. When he pivoted back around, she was holding up the smoothie. Disgust twisted his handsome features, but he took the drink. She didn’t know what sorts of things he put into his body when he was away from Charleston, but while he was within her care, she made sure he ate nutritious and delectable meals.