The Jarrods: Inheritance: Taming Her Billionaire Boss. Emilie Rose

she wanted to know if there was even a slim chance it was something that could be fixed.

       Seven

      Samantha hadn’t been sure what she should wear for tonight. While the flowers and the dinner were very thoughtful of Blake, and while he’d said he would give her an explanation as to why he walked away from her this morning in the bathroom and that sounded promising, none of that meant he wanted her.

      In the end she decided to keep it fairly low-key, just like she would if she were dining with him for business reasons. She wore a thin brown sweater over cream slacks and a pair of low-heeled pumps, adding a gold chain at her neck to make it a little more stylish.

      Just after six-thirty one of the hotel staff arrived as sunset spiked through the lodge. He placed a cooked casserole in the oven to keep warm, dessert in the refrigerator, then lit the log fire before beautifully setting the table in the small dining alcove. Had Blake requested the two candles on the table? She was about to ask the young waiter when Blake came in the front door.

      “Blake!” she exclaimed, her pulse picking up at the sight of him. Realizing she might be giving herself away, she pulled herself back and toned it down. “You’re early,” she said more sedately. “I didn’t expect you quite so soon.”

      “We had a tailwind.” He nodded at the waiter. “It looks good, Andy. Thanks.”

      Samantha wasn’t surprised that he knew the man’s name. Blake was good with people—as long as you did the right thing by him.

      “No problem, Mr. Jarrod.” Andy’s smile encompassed them both. “I’ll come and collect everything tomorrow.” He nodded good-night, then went through to the kitchen.

      Blake stood there for a minute looking at Samantha, his eyes flicking down over her outfit then away. “I could do with a shower,” he muttered, and made for the stairs.

      She felt nervous all of a sudden. She twisted away herself. “I’ll just make sure the food’s okay.” She left the room and went into the kitchen, glad that Andy was still gathering a couple of things together before he left. It brought the world back into focus and took it away from her and Blake. She needed the balance.

      Andy left and she busied herself unnecessarily checking on the casserole, then poured herself a glass of water and stood there sipping it to calm her nerves. She could only stay in there so long, and soon she wandered back into the lounge area and drew the drapes against the encroaching night, before switching on the lamps.

      It was too quiet, so she put on a CD to fill the silence and sat down on the couch to wait. The wood scent from the burning logs in the fireplace wafted throughout the room, and after a few minutes, she could feel the soft music begin to ease the tension inside her. And then it hit her and she realized how romantic the whole place looked. She groaned slightly. It hadn’t been intentional but would Blake believe that? It all looked so intimate.

      Panicking that he might think she was trying to seduce him, she was about to about to jump up and turn off the music when she saw Blake coming down the stairs. He wasn’t looking at her and she ate up the sight of him. He was so handsome in light gray pants and a navy crewneck sweater, but it was his magnetic aura of masculinity that caught her breath.

      He reached the bottom step and all at once he glanced up and his gaze quickly summed up the ambiance in the room. She could feel warmth steal under her skin. This guy never missed a trick.

      “You must be tired,” she said, hoping to ignore what he might think was obvious.

      “A little. It’s been a long day.”

      And then their eyes met—memories of this morning between them.

      She moistened her mouth. “Blake, I—”

      He shook his head. “Not yet, Samantha. Let’s eat first. I’m starving and I need to relax a little.”

      “Of course.” She swung toward the kitchen. “I’ll serve the dinner.”

      “I’ll pour the wine.”

      She hurried away, expelling a shaky breath once she reached the privacy of the kitchen. Blake wouldn’t discuss the matter until he was ready, so she would just have to have a little patience. Perhaps it would be best if she had some food in her stomach first.

      When she came back carrying the plates of chicken casserole, he was sitting at the table, having poured the wine. He stood up as she approached and took the plates from her. He’d always been a gentleman where she was concerned, holding out her chair or opening doors for her. She knew it was something he did on autopilot.

      “You lit the candles,” she said for something to say. “They look really nice.”

      He put the plates down on the table. “Andy knows his job.”

      She wasn’t sure if that meant Blake had asked for them or if Andy had merely improvised. Did it matter, she asked herself as he held her chair out just as she’d expected.

      As she sat down, she glimpsed the tulips on the side table. That was probably why he’d looked at her strangely before going upstairs to change. He must think her so ungrateful.

      “Oh, Blake, I should have said something earlier. Thank you so much for the tulips. They’re absolutely gorgeous.”

      “You like them, then?” He looked pleased as he sat down opposite her.

      “I love them.”

      He considered her. “You getting hit on the head was very good for me.”

      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