Upstairs Downstairs Baby (Sweet Tea And Scandal 1)

Claire stopped what she was doing and gave him her full attention. Was she acting like she was jealous? They’d slept together only once and she hoped she’d been clear about it not becoming a habit.

Yet, if she investigated her churning emotions, she suspected the fear in her heart had little to do with concern over whether his next serious relationship would want the live-in housekeeper fired. Claire suspected she was well on her way to falling for her handsome, charming employer.

“You need to take her matchmaking more seriously,” Claire said, denying the truth staring her straight in the face. “She has only your best interest at heart.”

“That doesn’t sound like the sort of advice I’d expect from a woman who had her world rocked by me a few nights ago.”

“My world rocked?” Claire repeated in a barely audible whisper while glancing toward the hall that led into the dining room. Embarrassment and desire warred inside her. “Can we not talk about this here?”

“Relax.” His voice was a husky rasp across her senses. “No one can hear us.”

“Nevertheless.” She tried for crisp and professional but came across tremulous and disturbed. Her breath hitched as his fingers tugged at her chef jacket, making the fabric slide across her overly sensitive skin. “Linc.”

“You know it’s going to happen again. Tonight, I think.” His eyes glittered, making it impossible for her to look away.

“I don’t know that.” But she wanted it to. So badly. Her entire body screamed for him to kiss her. Caution was quickly drowning beneath the flood of desire. “Linc,” she almost pleaded. “It was supposed to be one and done. Just two people who turn to each other in a moment of weakness.”

She managed to tear her gaze away and shot a glance toward the dining room. To her relief, no one was skulking in the butler’s pantry, listening to them, but she really didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“Weakness?” He took his time tasting the word. “Yeah, I guess that sounds about right. When it comes to you, my willpower is shot to hell.”

“Linc, please.” She was begging now through clenched teeth.

“Those were your exact words that night.”

“Oh, Linc...”

The heat scorching her cheeks wasn’t caused by the temperature in the kitchen. She hungered to take hold of Linc’s knit shirt and drag it over his head. To feel his hands slide beneath her chef whites and claim her breasts.

He set his palm on the kitchen island and leaned toward her, pitching his voice to a sexy murmur that made her muscles bunch in anticipation.

“‘Oh, Linc...’ I’m going to make you say them again,” he vowed, his whole manner leaving no doubt that he wouldn’t stop until she’d given him everything he wanted. “And again.”

Pledge delivered, he stepped back, leaving her quaking and achy and oh, so ready to do anything he asked. From the satisfaction glinting in his eyes, he knew what his words had done to her. A second later, he scooped Honey into his arms and carried her out the kitchen door, and Claire watched after him, a trembling bundle of unsatisfied longing.

Seven

The opportunity to lure Claire back into his bed failed to materialize in the days that followed the tasting at his mother’s house. Claire was completely engrossed in preparations for the party, and while he missed spending time with her, Linc appreciated her passion and wanted her to shine. At least that was what he told himself as his ache for her grew.

At eleve

n o’clock on a Saturday—far too early for him to be coming home from a night out with the guys—Linc eased his BMW into the driveway and parked beside Claire’s ancient Saab. He shut off the engine and in the ensuing silence listened to the insects drone. His jaw ached from grinding his teeth. The whole evening had tested his patience as he watched his friends hit on a variety of women and compete to see who could take the prettiest one home.

Usually he found their antics amusing, but ever since he’d warned Claire he intended to make her moan for him again, he’d been distracted and edgy.

In fact, he hadn’t planned to go out at all tonight. He’d intended to stay close to Claire in case she wanted to knock off early and hang out, but she had plans of her own. Since he hadn’t been all that keen on staying home alone, he’d let Knox and Austin drag him out. He’d pretty quickly discovered that being by himself wasn’t the problem—it was being away from Claire. She’d become like a drug in his system. No one but her appealed to him.

It hadn’t helped that he’d caught a glimpse of London having dinner with Harrison Crosby as he headed toward The Lucky Mojo. She’d looked as elegant and unflappable as ever, but something about the way her date smiled at her kicked Linc in the gut. He recognized a man on the hunt. He’d seen the same expression reflected in his mirror over the past several days.

While he didn’t begrudge London her happiness, Linc couldn’t help but experience a small flash of envy that Harrison could wine and dine her to his heart’s content, while Linc was left skulking around in secret with Claire.

Linc didn’t give a damn who knew he was pursuing her, but Claire was sensitive about the situation and worried because she worked for him. Although he didn’t want to add to her concern, Linc sensed that by keeping their budding relationship quiet and acting like being with her was something he was ashamed of, she would never believe their divergent social positions didn’t matter.

As he stepped out of the BMW, the sound of splashing came from the direction of the pool. He headed for the source of the noise. The thick vegetation surrounding the concrete pool deck gave him cover as he lurked and watched Claire make her way from one end of the narrow pool to the other with slow, lazy strokes.

Tonight, she wore a utilitarian black one-piece that did nothing to enhance her slender curves. Even so, Linc found himself mesmerized by the flash of her slender arms and legs as she negotiated a flip turn and resumed her smooth rhythm. She was swimming for pleasure rather than fitness, but there was no missing the precision in her strokes. She moved like a trained swimmer and this showcased yet another example of how little he knew about her.

When she drew close to the end nearest him, Linc stepped out of the shadows and approached the turquoise water. “It’s a little chilly for a night swim, isn’t it?” He figured the air temperature was around sixty.