More to Give (20 page)

Callie tapped the side of her nose but remained silent. If he was going to see the light, he’d need to find it on his own.

“Because I’m reluctant to make a fool of myself to gain acceptance that I couldn’t care less about?”

“Try again,” she said.

He leaned back, rubbing a hand across his abs. Callie was distracted by the narrow trail of soft hair that disappeared behind the button of his trousers. Lust momentarily squelched her anger, but she raised her eyes a second later, reminding herself how little he’d respected her opinion.

Fortunately, Sam was contemplating his plate and not her face.

“Because I discussed the situation with Randy.”

He was quicker than she’d expected. “You’re getting warmer.”

“Am I?” he asked. “Because for a second there, I felt it get quite cold in here.”

“Did you happen to run into Randy?” she asked, unwilling to let him off the hook just yet. “Or did you seek him out?”

“I set up the brief meeting. Why?”

“By doing so, you dismissed my opinion as insufficient, that’s why. But when Randy—a man, I might add—told you the same thing I did, then it had to be true.” Callie carried her plate and wineglass to the sink, fearful her face would reveal more hurt than anger.

If Sam knew he’d hurt her, he’d have the upper hand. She would be the sensitive woman who couldn’t take being questioned, and they would never stand on equal ground again.

“How long have you been on this island, Callie?” Sam asked, his voice revealing nothing. No anger. No annoyance. Not even arrogance.

“Six weeks,” she answered, rinsing her plate in the sink.

“Randy Navarro has lived on this island for more than fifteen years.” She didn’t have to turn around to know Sam was advancing on her. “I didn’t dismiss your opinion,” he said into her ear. “If anything, seeking secondary confirmation proves I took you seriously. I simply wanted insight into the people on this island that neither you nor I could have.”

He trailed one fingertip along the side of her neck as he pressed his warm body against her back. Callie let the dish drop to the bottom of the sink as she braced her hands against the counter.

“You have a brilliant mind, Calliope Henderson, and I respect that you understood a problem before I knew it even existed.” His hands slid under the tail of the shirt, caressing her hips as he ground against her backside. The proof of his arousal had her pushing back in response.

Callie tried to speak, but Sam slid one arm across her abdomen as the other went lower, pressing between her legs. Her head fell back on his shoulder as her knees threatened to fail her.

“Now I believe it’s time for dessert,” Sam breathed into her ear. His hands were definitely serving up something delicious. “It’s my turn to taste you, Callie.” He put words to action as he licked the top of her shoulder, exposed by the open collar of the shirt.

She rode the hand that nearly had her ready to come right there at the counter. With a guttural moan, Callie nodded the yes she couldn’t say, and Sam lowered her to the floor. For the rest of her stay in Peabody Cottage, Callie would never again look at that blue kitchen area rug without thinking of Sam pressed between her thighs.

CHAPTER 20

T
he next morning, Sam struggled to concentrate on anything other than memories of the night before. He’d left Callie’s place around four that morning. They may have nodded off for a couple of brief naps, but for the most part Callie had kept him up all night, in every way possible.

She was sexy, demanding, enthusiastic, and flexible. And Sam feared he might never get enough. The thought set off warning bells in his brain.

Their current arrangement, outside of their professional connection, involved mutual physical satisfaction and nothing more. But every time Callie demanded respect, challenged him on an intellectual level, or displayed her impressive ability to analyze a situation and solve a puzzle before he’d found all the pieces, his admiration for her grew. And then there were the moments she let down her guard—when she was sweet, kindhearted Callie, with the bright smile and brighter eyes.

That was the Callie who posed the greatest threat to his well-being.

And likely to her own. If she understood how little Sam had to offer on a personal level, she’d make sure their relationship went back to business only. Throughout their night together, Callie had never given the slightest hint she wanted more than sex from him. That lack of expectation both nullified his guilt and pricked his ego.

“Good morning, Mr. Callie’s Boss,” said a voice from the far side of the lobby. Sam had come out to the main desk to pick up the reservation report for the month ahead. With his nose in the report, he hadn’t noticed anyone else in the area.

He also didn’t expect to be addressed as Mr. Callie’s Boss.

Turning, Sam found a familiar blonde smiling from the end of the counter.

“So that
was
your truck last night,” he said, tucking the folder beneath his arm.

“I was hoping you didn’t recognize it,” Henri answered, looking unconcerned. “My timing has always been a little off.”

“How long had you been there?”

Henri smiled, revealing one deep dimple in her right cheek. “Long enough to realize Cal had plans for the night that didn’t include me.”

Sam fought the urge to glance around for open ears. He wasn’t worried about what others thought of anything that went on between him and Callie, but he didn’t see the need to broadcast their private lives either.

“Does your presence in my lobby mean you stayed here last night?” he asked.

“I did.” Henri held up her key card. “The place is so nice, I think I’ll stay another night or two.”

He should have told her there was no need, since he and Callie could always use
his
cabin. And then Sam realized what he was thinking. Did he plan to spend every night with Callie? They hadn’t talked about it before he’d left that morning, but her stay on Anchor was only temporary. No sense in wasting what little time they had.

His thoughts drifted into what they could do with that time. Graphic images played through his mind. Erotic images.

“You alright there, big guy?” Henri asked.

Sam shook his head. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. I’m glad you’re enjoying your stay.”

At that moment, Yvonne appeared from the back office, a wide smile spreading across her face at the sight of Henri. “Good morning,” she said, with more warmth than Sam would expect for one of their guests. “Did you sleep well?”

“Great,” Henri replied, her eyes lingering on Yvonne almost affectionately. “I thought maybe we could grab some lunch.”

“I’d like that.” Yvonne stared at Henri for several seconds, until Sam cleared his throat. “Oh,” she said, jumping back a step. “I’m sorry, Mr. Edwards. I didn’t see you there.”

“Yes,” he said, “I know.” He’d never thought much about why Yvonne, one of the most beautiful young women he’d ever seen, didn’t have a boyfriend on the island. Now he knew.

Yvonne gave the clock behind her a quick check, then said to Henri, “I can’t leave for another half hour. Do you mind waiting?”

With a slow shake of her head, Henri said, “Not at all.” She wore a goofy grin on her face and Sam felt like an interloper.

“I’ve got work to do,” he said, waving the file he’d been holding against his side. “You two carry on.” Yvonne nodded as if to acknowledge his departure, but she was too busy smiling at Henri to spare him a glance.

“How about that,” a familiar voice said from the lobby behind them. “The exact three people I came to see. It’s as if you knew I was coming.” Callie delivered the greeting with an equal smile for each of them, though her eyes lingered on his for an extra second.

If he’d had a mirror in that moment, Sam would have seen the same goofy face Henri had made moments before.

“Hey, Cuz,” Henri said. “How was your night?”

With one arched brow, Callie replied, “Fine, thanks. How was yours?”

“Good,” the dimpled blonde said. “So good, I’m going to stay here a little longer.” Henri cast a smile in Yvonne’s direction, gaining a blush that brought out the freckles scattered across the woman’s mocha cheeks.

Sam enjoyed watching the realization come to Callie. Her eyes darted between the two women several times before she said, “Ooooooh. Well. Good for you.”

“What did you need from me?” Yvonne asked Callie.

“Oh yeah.” Callie pulled a folded piece of paper from her bag. “Bernie made a supply list for the gazebo construction.” Handing the paper over, she asked, “Could you place the order for delivery on Friday?”

“Sure can,” Yvonne said, glancing over the order. “I’ll do this real quick before lunch.”

“Which she’s having with me,” Henri said.

“Then I guess I don’t need to see you,” Callie said. “I was going to take you to lunch after I met with Sam, but if you’re busy . . .”

“We don’t have to—” Yvonne started, but Henri interrupted.

“Yep. I’m busy.”

With a chuckle, Callie said, “Tossed over for a pretty girl. I see how you are.”

As she had yet to address him, Sam said, “Did we have a meeting scheduled this morning?”

“No,” Callie said, finally giving him her attention. “But I took a chance you might have a few minutes free. If not, I can come back later.”

“I have time,” Sam said, a little too eagerly.

Yvonne looked confused. Henri looked smug. And Callie looked good enough to eat. Which Sam knew from firsthand experience that she was.

Instead of the work clothes she’d worn the day before, Callie had slipped back into her business attire today. Though he couldn’t see much of the outfit hidden beneath her coat, the glimpse of skin between the hem of the blue skirt and the black boots that reached her knees was enough to make his mouth water.

“Should we go into your office?” she asked, wearing an innocent look on her face.

“Yes,” Sam croaked, then cleared his throat. “After you.” He let her lead the way, catching her scent as she walked by. Memories of the night before hit like a physical blow. Not touching her before they were alone in his office took all of his self-control.

Which was the reason Callie found her back pressed to the door the moment it clicked shut. Sam drove his hands into her hair as he took her mouth with his, driven to taste her like a starving man stumbling upon a feast. One night hadn’t been nearly enough. He wanted more.

Needed more. The thought was the only reason Sam broke the kiss. Callie could easily become an addiction, but she wasn’t his to keep. He had to remember that.

With their foreheads pressed together, Sam closed his eyes and struggled to catch his breath. “Sorry about that,” he said between pants.

“I’m not,” Callie said, nipping at his bottom lip. “I think all of our meetings should start this way.”

“Then we’d never get down to business,” he said, pushing against the door to put space between their bodies. With her lips swollen from his kisses, and her eyes hazed over with lust, Sam considered having a couch installed in his office. Then again, there was his desk.

Shaking himself back to reality, he stepped back, buttoning his suit jacket.

“Don’t do that,” Callie said, halting his hands with her own. “Don’t revert to buttoned-up Sam. Not with me.”

“Buttoned-up Sam?”

“Yes. Serious. All business. Cold and impersonal.” She smoothed her hands over his lapels. “It’s like an armor you wear.” Looking into his eyes, she flattened her hands against his chest. “You don’t need the armor with me.”

But he did. Today especially.

To appease her, Sam left the coat unbuttoned. “You make it sound as if I’m two different people.”

“You are,” Callie said. “There’s Mr. Edwards, the competent and confident man in charge. And then there’s Sam.”

“And Sam isn’t competent and confident?”

“Oh,” Callie said, her voice growing husky, “I would never say that.” The wicked smile that flashed across her lips nearly had him reaching for her again. “But Sam feels a little less intimidating.”

“Funny,” he said. “I’ve never gotten the impression you felt intimidated around me. If anything, I’d say the exact opposite.”

She shrugged. “If I were to let you see when I feel intimidated, then we’d never be on equal footing. Therefore, I don’t let you see.”

“But you’re telling me now.”

“Because I’m talking to Sam, not Mr. Edwards.”

Unable to help himself, Sam let his body have what it wanted and pressed against her once more. “How can you tell the difference between the two?” he asked, truly curious.

“There’s a way you look at me.” Callie trailed a finger along his brow, then down his jawline. “A softness. An openness. A longing.”

Sam withdrew from her touch, buttoned his jacket, and left Callie standing at the door while he returned to his desk. Taking a seat in the leather chair, he clenched his hands on his desktop. “What did you need to see me about?”

Callie knew the moment he went cold that she should have kept the words to herself. Kept the exchange flirtatious or even seductive. Then Sam would have stayed with her. But she’d taken it a step too far. Been too honest and revealed more than he could handle.

With a sigh, she took a seat across the desk from him, dropping her bag to the floor and crossing her legs. She knew the skirt rode high enough to reveal an ample amount of thigh. Nothing said she couldn’t use temptation to ease Sam out of his cold front.

“I made some calls this morning in regard to the winter festival. They had an open slot on Saturday at eleven thirty.”

“An open slot?”

“Yes,” she said. “In the kids’ tent, for you and Cecil. Luckily, they aren’t sending the program to the printer until this afternoon, so you’ll be on the schedule and we should have a good crowd.”

Sam looked as if she’d put a plate of rotten meat under his nose. “I doubt anyone in town will miss the chance to see me make a fool of myself.”

Callie managed not to roll her eyes, but only barely. “You are not going to make a fool of yourself. You’re going to make children laugh and show the people on this island that you do not think you’re better than they are. That
is
what you agreed to last night, correct?”

Now he looked as if she’d sentenced him to death. “I’m not sure I know how to make children laugh.”

This, Callie didn’t doubt. “That’s why you’ll have Cecil. You two can rehearse in the evenings for the rest of the week, and then you’ll be a smashing success come Saturday.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “The circus act.”

“Are you really afraid of sitting in front of a group of little kids?” Taking a shot at his ego could backfire on her, but Callie took the chance.

“It isn’t in my nature to play the fool,” he said, but his tone carried less arrogance.

Callie leaned forward and set a hand on the edge of his desk. “I would never make a fool of you, Sam.” The words seemed to placate him, as he nodded but remained silent. “Think about it,” she said. “The kids are going to think you’re brilliant. I mean, you’ll have a talking bird.”

“And what if the talking bird is the one who comes across as brilliant?”

The insecurity was unexpected and brought relaxed Sam back to the conversation. To keep him, Callie rose from her chair and strolled around the desk. “I promise you,” she said, settling onto Sam’s lap, “there is nothing to worry about. After this weekend, the locals will see you as the kind, generous man that you are. And you’ll be the hero who is going to save this project, doing Will a huge favor and giving one lucky couple the wedding of their dreams.”

As she’d hoped, Sam pulled her close, rubbing a thumb against the inside of her knee.

“Hero, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Callie whispered into his ear, before taking the lobe between her teeth. “My hero.”

The hand on her knee slid higher. “You’re playing me, aren’t you?” Sam asked, his voice deep and free of censure.

“I needed to touch you,” she said, which was scarily true. “Is that a bad thing?”

His answer was a kiss that threatened to short-circuit Callie’s brain. She squirmed closer and wondered if the fancy leather chair had a recline feature. When Sam brushed his fingers over the cotton of her underwear, Callie twisted hard enough to nearly eject them onto the floor.

“Now you’re trying to kill us both,” Sam said, pulling Callie’s skirt back into place. “Since that door isn’t locked, this will have to wait until later.”