CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Looks like it’s just the two of us for lunch,” Claire said.

Brooke and John had already left when they arrived back to the house. On the answering machine was a message from Lorraine saying she had to attend a called meeting of the Women’s Club.

“Do you need any help in the kitchen?”

Claire had to smile despite the nervousness that had steadily increased on learning they would be alone. “I don’t imagine you’ve had very much practice in the kitchen.”

Folding his arms, Gray leaned against the counter. “You’d be surprised.”

She looked at him again in his wheat-colored tailored sports jacket and tobacco brown slacks. As always he remained impeccably groomed from head to toe. “Plates are in the first cabinet. Flatware is in the drawer beneath.”

Pushing away from the counter, he began setting the table. They worked easily together. In minutes they were seated, the food blessed, and she was heaping shrimp salad on their plates. “Please help yourself. I thought there’d be more of us.”

“I’m glad there isn’t.”

Her fork wobbled.

Gray seemed not to notice. “I enjoy down time. I’m around people all day long. Going from meeting to meeting, inspecting the warehouse, talking to employees. It’s nice to relax.”

“But I don’t think you’d give it up.”

“Bite your tongue,” he said with a chuckle as she picked up a slice of French bread. “I never wanted to do anything but run the business. It fascinated me, from the acquisition of merchandise to telemarketing.”

“It must be nice doing what you enjoy and are good at,” Claire said, unaware of the wistfulness in her voice. Gray wasn’t.

“I’ve been blessed to discover what I wanted to do at an early age. For some, it just takes a little longer.”

Claire tilted her head. “You wouldn’t be trying to cheer me up, would you?”

Gray leaned closer. “You can point a person in the right direction, but they have to take the first step themselves, then the next, to achieve their own success. I’d say you’re on your way.” He smiled. “Those photos should certainly heat up your Web site.”

Heat spread across Claire’s face. “It didn’t come out as I envisioned.”

Gray’s mouth lifted in an amused grin. “I think that’s an understatement. Brooke and John were just as surprised.”

“What do you mean?”

He leaned back in his chair. “They’re attracted to each other and fighting it tooth and nail.”

Claire’s mouth gaped. “Brooke and John? I thought they were just caught up in the moment.”

“That they were. They probably came near to melting your camera lens.”

Heat climbed up her neck again. She bit her lip.

“You always did that whenever I spoke to you when I visited my grandparents during the summers.”

She tucked her head.

“That, too.”

“I—” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what she’d planned to say.

He placed his hand briefly on hers. “Forget it, and forgive my bad manners.” He picked up his fork. “If you need any help uploading the photos I’d be happy to help.”

“Thank you, but I can manage.” The idea of Gray sitting with her as she went through those sensual photos made her twist uneasily in her seat. “I want Lorraine and Brooke to see them first.”

“What about John? Did you get a release from him?”

She paused. “No, I didn’t think of it.”

“I don’t know him. He doesn’t appear to be the type to cause trouble, but it’s best to try and circumvent problems. You can download the pictures to him so he can view them at his leisure and fax a release at the same time.”

“But there isn’t any need for a release. John’s a friend.”

“Money changes people.” His eyes went cold. “It’s best to protect yourself going in.”

Claire wondered if he was thinking of his ex-wife. The newspapers had reported that she hadn’t signed a pre-nup, but because of the adultery that she hadn’t been able to deny, and the short length of the marriage, she’d gotten very little. “All right.”

Gray’s lips pursed in exasperation. “People will use you, Claire, if you aren’t careful. Believe me, I know.”

Her heart went out to him. What must it be like to always be on guard? Just as she had, people probably looked at the wealth and position Gray had, but not at the heavy responsibility he carried. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at her sharply. “For what?”

“For being one more person who thought of using you to help themselves.”

His hand closed over hers again. He felt the leap in her pulse and refused to believe it was anything except nerves. “You quickly proved me wrong. You want to work for what you want, not have it handed to you.” Casually, but reluctantly, he released her and went back to his meal. “Bliss will be good for you.”

Gathering her scattered thoughts, Claire said, “I think it will be successful.”

He looked her in the eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” He went on at her puzzled look. “You’ve always been shy. I remember asking you to join us for a swim or to go to the beach, but you always refused.”

“I wanted to,” she blurted, then gasped at her revealing blunder.

“Why didn’t you?”

Because my brother said all you wanted to do was get in my panties, she thought, staring at her salad. She’d been shocked and so pleased by the invitation. She couldn’t wait to tell Derek. He’d quickly set her straight. There was only one reason why the grandson of a millionaire would want to date the daughter of the hired help.

“Claire?” Gray said gently.

She looked up at him. There had always been something compelling and comforting about Gray. It was the intense way he looked at you. “I didn’t have a swimsuit.”

“Do you have one now?” he asked softly without missing a beat.

She had to swallow before she could say, “Yes.”

“Good. When would you like to go swimming?”

She was tempted, but there was no way she was going to let Gray see her in a swimsuit after seeing how gorgeous Brooke had been in hers. “Thank you, but I’m pretty busy at the moment.”

His dark eyes narrowed for a split second, as if he didn’t believe her. “You’re going to give me a complex if you keep turning me down.”

Claire tried to decipher whether he was still being the friendly mentor or something different, and decided to take it as the former. “I’m just trying to ensure that your faith in me and Bliss is justified.”

Gray sat back, his face closed. “I’ve taken enough of your time. Thanks for a wonderful lunch.” He rose to his feet.

Claire slowly followed, feeling as if she had just shut the door on something wonderful. “You haven’t had dessert yet. It’s pecan pie with vanilla ice cream. Your favorite.”

“Perhaps some other time.” Gray stuck out his hand. “Goodbye.”

Claire’s throat clogged. She extended her hand. His closed warmly over hers. “Goodbye.”

Releasing her hand he left the dining room and headed for the front door. She watched him with an uneasy feeling that he wasn’t coming back. Somehow the luncheon had gone terribly wrong.

He opened the door and stepped out into the hot sun and went down the walk toward his black Porsche.

“Gray, wait!”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned. “Yes?”

Claire could read nothing in his enigmatic gaze. She caught herself chewing on her lip, then stopped. She’d always been quiet, but she had a feeling this time if she stayed quiet she’d lose something precious. “The painters should be finished by Tuesday. I’d like to show you the shop.”

“Thank you, but my schedule is rather busy.”

Formal, polite enough to cut and leave you bleeding, he turned and started toward his car again.

“I look terrible in a swimsuit.”

Claire had clamped her eyes shut the moment she’d blurted the heart-wrenching words. She prepared herself for his callous laughter, the sound of his car starting, but nothing prepared her for the gentle touch of his hand on her chin. Just two fingers that stroked, then lifted.

Her eyes slowly opened. He was so close. His gaze riveting. “I’d ask you to let me be the judge of that if I thought you’d change your mind, so how about I meet you around eleven Tuesday at Bliss, then we can have lunch. I’ll clear my schedule.”

“I’d like that.”

“Until then.” He turned and went to his car. Claire’s hand touched her chin as he drove away. Careful, Claire, she warned herself. Gray was just being nice. Just because he hadn’t liked being rejected didn’t mean he felt anything special for her. She just had to keep remembering that.

*   *   *

They were worse than she had imagined.

“Wish I had been here yesterday,” Lorraine said, regret in her voice.

“I wish I hadn’t been,” Brooke groaned. Seeing the pictures again was worse than last night when Claire had e-mailed them to her.

Lorraine’s gaze remained glued to the computer screen. “I’ll never forgive Bessie Hendrix for calling an unnecessary meeting to discuss a menu change for the annual banquet.”

“I sent John a download and faxed a release form yesterday,” Claire told them. “I have yet to hear from him, but I checked and he has read the e-mail.”

Brooke’s flesh heated at the thought of him seeing the pictures, reliving as she had relived last night, their bodies molded to each other. She’d forgotten their bet five seconds after John buried his face in the crook of her neck. The sneaky bastard.

“If he returns the release, the hard part will be deciding which to use,” Claire said thoughtfully. “Of course I still need to get a photo of Brooke by herself.”

“How about this one?” Lorraine pointed on the screen. “Maybe we could crop John.”

Brooke felt a spiral of heat shoot through her. Her head was thrown back, her knees bent with John between them, his hands on her thigh.

“I think this one should go on the site as is.” Claire turned to Brooke. “What do you think?”

“I think I was crazy to do the photo shoot.” She straightened. “I need a glass of water.”

The women looked at each other, smiled and nodded. That photo was definitely going on the site.

Brooke decided on raspberry lemonade instead of water. Eyes closed, she rolled the glass loaded with ice across her forehead. She’d pulled some crazy stunts in her life, but none had backfired on her so badly. Who would have ever thought she’d be attracted to the silent, arrogant type? Or that he’d have hands that sent shivers through her body and make her crave more?

Her eyes opened and she gulped her drink. No man had ever gotten the best of her. She’d always been able to hold the edge. Even with Randolph. She had cared for him, but she was honest enough to admit he’d hurt her pride more than her heart when he dumped her. And what did that say about her?

And she knew how little John thought of her.

“You don’t know me,” she said aloud, then groaned. Now he had her talking to herself. The man was a menace. Thank goodness they didn’t have to do any more photos. And if she had her way the ones Lorraine and Claire were so pleased with would never go up on Bliss’s Web site.

She brightened. Claire was a pushover at times. All Brooke had to say was that she felt uncomfortable … which was the truth … with them being on the site and Claire would let her redo them. With another man, of course. Delighted with her plan, Brooke rinsed the glass and put it in the sink. Hurrying back to the family room where Claire had moved the computer, she accidentally brushed against a basket on the counter, sending it and its contents spilling to the floor.

“Shoot!”

Bending, she began picking the letters up. Her eyes caught the return addresses. She realized what the letters were. Bills. It didn’t take much to see that Claire was behind on paying them. Claire had never said a word. She just worked hard to get the Bliss products out, to help Brooke and Lorraine realize their dreams.

Claire clearly hadn’t had an easy time of it, but she was still resilient enough to fight and not be bitter. Bliss was their way out. Was she that insecure, to let a man intimidate her and spoil all of their chance for success? Pushing to her feet, Brooke replaced the bills and the basket and went to the den.

“I had a great idea.” She gestured toward the picture that was still up on the screen and was gratified when her body only shivered. “Let’s turn the photo around and focus back on the woman, as Claire suggested earlier. What if the woman is not responding to the man’s touch so much as to the products he’s smoothing on her body? It’s the products that put that look on her face. The man is immaterial. We’ll call that line BTS.”

“BTS?” Claire repeated, a frown working its way across her brow.

“Better Than Sex,” Brooke explained. Claire’s mouth hung open. Lorraine smiled and nodded.

“With African American and Puerto Rican blood, my father and his brothers are about as macho as they come. My single uncles love women and if one told them that she had a product that made her feel better than sex, they’d stand on their heads to prove her wrong.”

“So the woman in a relationship would get the benefit of her man’s added attention, and the one not in a relationship would benefit from the products themselves,” Lorraine mused aloud.

“Exactly,” Brooke said, getting into her plan. It would also send a message to John that he wasn’t all that. “We’ve already used the essential oils in the products and affixed the ingredients labels. We’ll give them lush, exotic names like meringue-whipped body cream or soufflé moisturizing bath and shower gel.”

“They sound like food. The women won’t know whether to eat them or apply them,” Claire said, a frown darting across her brow.

Brooke’s grin was pure sin. “Yeah. If they have a man in their life, he can do both.”

“Oh, my,” Claire said, but she was grinning.

*   *   *

John scrubbed his shaky hand over his face as he sat in front of the computer screen Sunday night.

After a full day with the children and church, he’d finally had a chance to download the photos Claire had sent. But as the first photo materialized, he admitted he had purposely waited to view them. He’d had a feeling they would go straight to his gut. He’d been right.

Brooke had been all over him like a heat rash. He wished she was all over him right now. He’d wanted to rattle her and had ended up being the one rattled. Her body might seem fragile, but she was resilient and supple, her skin as soft as velvet. He’d dared to taste and had felt the punch all the way to his toes.

The lady took no prisoners.

He looked at the picture of both of them on their knees, his arms wrapped around her, her head on his shoulder. Lust hit him hard. He couldn’t look at them without remembering that he wanted her until he ached. A part of his mind had kept it together for the simple reason he’d enjoyed touching her, feeling her response to him which she’d been unable to control. He wondered what it would take to push her beyond that control?

“Daddy.”

John shot up from his chair, almost tipping it over in his haste to stand. “Amy, what’s the matter? I put you to bed an hour ago.”

“I’m thirsty,” she said, rubbing her eyes. Amy hated going to bed.

John scooped her up in his arms, careful to block the computer screen behind him in his corner office in the den. He’d set it up there so he could keep an eye on the children while they did homework or read. He wasn’t much on television.

“Let’s get you some water, then you’re back to bed.”

“Whatcha doing?”

Innocence and love stared up at him from Amy’s big brown eyes which reminded him so much of her mother. He wasn’t getting tangled with a woman who was only out for her own good. The children were already fascinated with Brooke and had asked about her as soon as he’d picked them up yesterday. Thankfully he’d had a cold shower by then and no longer felt like knocking his head against the wall. He’d been able to answer in a reasonable tone. He’d told them she was busy with the business and he’d take them to the shop when it opened.

When Brooke wasn’t there, he silently added. Brooke was definitely off limits.

“Nothing important. Nothing at all,” he finally answered. There was no way he was going to let whatever it was he was feeling for Brooke go any further. “Let’s get that water and get you back into bed.”