Emilie Rose - The Jarrods - Inheritance

She blinked. “It was?”

“I learned two things about you. What your favorite flower is, and your favorite color.”

“Want to know my favorite perfume, too?” she joked, touched by his words.

Only he didn’t laugh. “It’s Paris by Yves Saint Laurent,” he said with an unexpected thickness to his voice that made her nerves tingle.

“You know?”

“You bought some the first time we went to Paris together, remember?” He made it sound like they’d been together in Paris for something other than business.

Surprised he remembered that time two years ago when she’d first gone to work for him, she dropped her gaze and fanned her napkin over her lap, though she rather felt like fanning her face instead. “This looks delicious.”

There was a slight pause. “Yes.”

She could feel his eyes on her as she picked up her fork and finally looked at him again. “So, what was the problem in Vegas that you needed to go there in such a hurry?”

A moment ticked by then he picked up his fork. “There was a problem with one of the chefs. He was being a bit too temperamental, and the kitchen staff was threatening to walk out. It was beginning to escalate into a big commotion with the unions. It started to get ugly.”

“And it’s sorted out now?”

“Of course.”

She had to smile. “Naturally. You wouldn’t have come back otherwise, right?”

Suddenly there was an air of watchfulness about him. “What happened to your date with Joel tonight?”

She’d wondered if he’d mention it. And then something else occurred to her. Could he have arranged to get Joel out of the way tonight? The thought made her pulse race. “His cousin’s in Aspen for the night and he wanted to spend time with her.” She tilted her head. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”

His brow rose. “Me? Am I that good?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed on a half chuckle.

A flash of humor crossed his face. “Believe me, I’m not that clever.”

It did sound silly now. Blake could make things happen, but this time he’d have to find Joel’s cousin and get that person to come to Aspen. Why would he bother? He knew he merely had to send her flowers and arrange dinner and she’d capitulate like every woman before her.

“Anyway, how are you feeling?” he asked.

“Terrific.”

He searched her face, then inclined his head as if satisfied. “At least you only worked half the day.”

Her eyes widened. “How do you know that?”

“I checked with Erica. She said you’d left at lunchtime.”

She smiled wryly. “Did she also tell you she checked on me nearly every hour after that?”

“She promised me she would.”

Why was she not surprised? “That was a bit over the top, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t think so.”

She tried not to look more into it than there was. He probably wanted her all better so he could get rid of her faster. Then she knew that wasn’t fair of her and she pulled her thoughts back into line. “You always were concerned for your staff, Blake. Thank you.”

He looked at her strangely, as if he couldn’t understand why she was putting herself in with the rest of his staff. But if that were the case, didn’t that mean he was thinking she was something more to him than she actually was?

God, she had to stop thinking so much!

She picked up her wineglass. “You know, Blake. Erica isn’t as bad as you imagine her to be. I suspect she’d still have kept an eye on me even without you asking her.” She took a sip of her drink but watched him carefully over the rim of her glass.

His brows furrowed. “I guess so.” As much as he appeared to concede the point, he didn’t look totally convinced about Erica’s intentions.

Samantha understood why. “You think she’s only doing something nice for a reason, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Has it occurred to you that the reason is you? ” She let him consider that, then added, “Maybe she wants to get to know her brother, and she knows the only way she can do that is to show him she is willing to help him out?”

“Maybe.” He paused. “But she cares for you, too.”

She felt a rush of affection for Erica. “And that goes to show she’s a nice person and worthy of your friendship … if not your love.”

His lips twisted. “The hit on the head seems to have muddled your brain. You think you’re a psychoanalyst now, do you?”

“Where you’re concerned I have to be,” she said without thinking, but knew it was her mention of the word love that had got his back up. Love and Blake Jarrod did not go hand-in-hand.

And neither did Samantha Thompson.

Not with love.

Certainly not with Blake Jarrod.

A curious look passed over his face. “Why would you want to psychoanalyze me anyway?”

This time she thought before speaking. No use giving away more of herself than she needed to. It was best she keep up a wall. He would appreciate her more for that.

She managed a thin smile. “A person likes to figure out how their boss’s mind works. It helps with the job.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Yes, you were always good at that.”

Then … just as she thought she had it all under control, all at once everything rose in her throat. She couldn’t take any more of this subterfuge and talking around things that mattered. “Blake, don’t you think it’s time we talked about last night? You took such good care of me, and then this morning …”

He stilled. “Yes?”

She swallowed hard. She had to ask the next question and she had to be prepared to accept the answer. “I’d like to know what I did wrong.”

His face blanched as he sat forward. “Nothing, Samantha. You did nothing wrong.”

“Then what—”

He drew a breath. “Samantha, are you a virgin?”

She felt her cheeks heat up. “No.”

He looked surprised. “I thought you might be.”

“Well, I’m not,” she said, hunching her shoulders, wondering where this was going to lead.

His expression softened a little. “But you’re not very experienced, are you?”

Okay, so it led to further embarrassment.

She could feel her cheeks redden further. “You must know I … er … haven’t been with a lot of men.”

“How many?”

Her eyes widened. “None of your business.”

“You made it my business this morning.”

She hesitated, then, “One lover when I was a teenager.”

His brow rose. “And none since?” He must have read her thoughts. “You can tell me. I’m not going to tell anyone else.”

So, okay, she would accept that. “Well, there was a man back home ….”

He didn’t blink an eye but she knew she had his attention. “And?”

“We didn’t become lovers, but I was in love with him.”

“What happened?”

Her lips twisted with self-derision. “He wasn’t in love with me.”

Blake nodded. “That explains why you haven’t had any relationships since I’ve known you,” he said, almost to himself. Then his eyes sharpened. “Are you still in love with him?”

“No. Carl left to go overseas and ended up marrying someone else. I realized I’d been in love with the idea of love and that’s all it was.” She sighed. “But it was a good lesson in learning that you can never be sure of another person’s feelings.” Realizing that she was suddenly giving too much away, she tried to be casual. “So, you see, I can only lay claim to one lover and that was a long time ago.”

“I could tell.”

Her composure lurched like a drunken sailor. “I’m sorry. I thought my enthusiasm might make up for any lack of experience.”