Chapter 6
Something wasup. Noah could sense it. Sami didn’t keep secrets well. She gave herself away with every hesitant glance, every inflection of her voice, and every nervous jangle of her bracelets. Even the way she pet Loner roused his acute suspicions.
Or maybe her attempt to tame her tumble of curls and the fact that she wore her best “interview” peek-a-boo top over a snazzy pair of fire-engine-red slacks gave it away. The troublesome Ms. Fontaine was intent on more trouble. Only one question… what form would it take thistime?
“So what are our plans today?” he asked casually.
She started, confirming that she was, indeed, up to something. “Today?”
“Yes, today. I’m supposed to continue following you around and see where I can be of the most help, remember?”
She snapped her fingers. “Oh, right. Follow me around. Gee…. I’m sorry, Noah. Idon’t think that’ll work today.”
“I see.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Why not?”
It only took her a moment to come up with a plausible excuse. “I’ve decided you need a day off.”
“Really?” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve been here less than a week and I’m entitled to time off, already?”
She beamed. “Aren’t I a wonderful employer?”
“Honey, you’re the best.”
“So what do you plan to do today while the rest of us are hard at work?” she asked with a tad too much enthusiasm.
“I think I’ll stick around and see what trouble I can get into.”
“Trouble?” Her guilty expression almost made him laugh, but he caught himself just in time. She made this far too easy. “What sort of trouble?”
“I don’t know. Do you have any suggestions?”
“Suggestions?” Her voice rose to a squeak. “Why would you think I might have any suggestions?”
He leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose and her pretty green eyes were fixed square on his. “Why, Ms. Fontaine. Ido believe you’re hyperventilating. Any special reason?”
“I— You—” She took a quick step back and thrust sunlit curls from her eyes, all the while shoving an outrageous lie through her pearly whites. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Hawke. None at all.”
“I didn’t think so.” He flicked the tip of her nose with his index finger. “In that case, I’ll see you later.”
She cleared her throat. “Much later. Right?”
“Absolutely.”
Satisfied that he’d be smart spending his day of freedom as close to Sami as possible, Noah deliberately kept out of sight for the next couple hours in case she decided to get rid of him with some trumped up excuse. He could guess what she had planned. He just couldn’t decide what to do about it. Of course, he hadn’t been hired to do anything—at least not about her baby scheme. But since her overall protection fell on his shoulders, he figured he was stuck with the job, especially since he didn’t see an immediate end in sight.
So far, he hadn’t discovered anything useful. No more notes had been left. He hadn’t noticed anyone strange or unsavory hanging around outside the house. His mouth pulled to one side. Just inside. In the meantime, he’d run background checks on everyone he’d come into contact with. He’d also turned the latest blackmail note over to an associate to see if fingerprints could be lifted off the stationery. Babe hadn’t wanted to involve the authorities, but then, his associate wasn’t an official authority. Until Noah received some feedback, he’d have to hang tough and deal with Sami the best he knewhow.
Just after noon, his worse fears were confirmed. The doorbell rang and Sami pelted down the hallway in her bare feet. Snatching open the door, she hastily ushered her “guest” into the parlor off the foyer, the same room she’d used to interview Noah and the other baby-makers. It didn’t take a lot of brain power to reach the most obvious conclusion.
The interviews had resumed.
Now what? Noah’s eyes narrowed as he considered his options. He could walk in on her, though she’d most likely toss him right back out again. He could come up with some lame excuse to drag her away from her interview. That might work—for a whole two minutes. Or he could hang around in the hallway ready to rush to her defense should she call for help. Unfortunately, the door made an excellent sound barrier.
That particular detail worried him the most. She could stand in there shrieking at the top of her impressive lungs and he doubted he’d hear her. Another idea occurred—one he didn’t like, but suspected would be his only choice if he wanted to keep tabs on Sami and her “guest.” It’d also mean changing his job description from man Friday to groundskeeper and went against every code of behavior he’d ever held dear. But for Sami… He shook his head in disgust.
Face facts, Hawke.
He’d do anything for Sami, cross any line, break every promise. Whatever it took to keep her safe, he’d do. Once decided, he didn’t waste any time. Heading for the kitchen, he exited out the back and circled to the side of the house. He could only hope that no one saw him skulking in the bushes and called the police. Or perhaps that would be the best thing for all concerned. Once they arrested him, the blackmail scheme would be forced into the open and his job would come to a fastend.
Babe might be ticked off, but at least Sami would discover the truth. Though he’d bet good money what she chose to do with the information would defy rational explanation. Knowing her, she’d track the blackmailer down, bring him home and feed him. Then she’d train him for a job. Or hire him herself. Damn. The SOB could go from blackmailer to Sami’s next man Friday in one easy step. She’d need a new employee, too, since Noah would still be warming a bench in the local pokey.
Crouching next to a prickly bougainvillea, he risked a quick look in the window. Good. He’d found the right one. Sami sat curled in a chair next to her guest—definitely a potential baby-maker if the man’s ecstatic expression gave any indication. Unfortunately Noah couldn’t hear a word they were saying. As quietly as possible, he pushed at the window casing, amazed when it actually gave beneath his prodding.
If he were caught now, he’d have a lot of explaining to do, none of which would stand up to intense scrutiny. The chances that this man was Sami’s blackmailer were next to nil. Still, Noah needed to be available to help his employer out of a sticky situation, just incase.
The murmur of voices drifted down to him, too muffled to make out clearly. Swearing beneath his breath, he gave the window another gentle push. It glided silently upward. Well, hell. That wasn’t very safe. The minute he finished listening in on Sami’s interview, he’d blister her about her lax security measures. Satisfied he could now hear their conversation, he knelt in the dirt and pretended to weed the flowerbed.
“So… Mr. Sylvester, is it?” Noah heard Samisay.
“Make it Thomas.”
“Thomas. Ihave a number of questions for you, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
“You understand what I’m after?”
“A baby, Ibelieve you said?”
“That’s right. Do you have any problem with that?”
“Not even one,” Sylvester assured cheerfully. “Only too happy to help.”
The pig! Noah yanked viciously at a clump of weeds. He’d be only too happy to help, too—help good ol’ Thomas out the door with an expeditious right hook. Sami, on the other hand, found his answer perfectly acceptable.
“Great. Ijust needed to make certain you knew what I expected. Ababy, Imean. During my last round of interviews one of the men didn’t understand my ad at all. And he wasn’t very happy when I explained.”
“He doesn’t sound too bright.”
“Oh, he’s bright. Brilliant, even. To be honest, he had all the qualities I wanted. He just misunderstood the situation. Ashame really.” A pensive note crept into her voice. “He would have been perfect for the job.”
Perfect? Noah grinned. It would seem eavesdroppers did hear good things about themselves on occasion. So she considered him “perfect,” did she? Interesting. He found her pretty damn exceptional,too.
“I think you’ll find me even more perfect,” Sylvester asserted.
He didn’t sound happy. Apparently, Thomas didn’t appreciate her complimenting another man. Noah could sympathize with that. He yanked free a few more weeds, feeling downright cheerful all of a sudden.
“We’ll see,” Sami said in a noncommittal tone. “I have a number of questions to ask first.”
“Ask away. Ihave nothing to hide.”
Noah heard Sami’s bracelets clatter and risked another quick look. She had her nose buried in a fistful of papers, no doubt her baby questionnaire. Jeez, she was gorgeous. Her hair had escaped her careful attempts to curb the wayward curls, surrounding her face in a halo of sunshine. From his angle he could see the curve of her well-rounded backside encased in form-hugging red cotton. Her figure hadn’t escaped Sylvester’s notice, either. If she bothered to glance up and look at his expression, she’d have slugged the jerk on principal alone.
“Okay,” she finally announced, leaning forward to toss her papers onto the table in front ofher.
Sylvester followed each delicious movement coming from behind her cropped peek-a-boo top and it took every ounce of self-control for Noah to stay put. One wrong word and he’d be through the window, fist first.
“Question number one,” she began. “If you had to choose between giving me a bright red rose and a cute little daisy, which would you pick?”
“Huh?”
Noah ducked down, smothering a laugh. Only Sami could come up with such an inane question. He couldn’t wait to see how good ol’ Sylvester handled this one. As distracted as he’d been by Sami’s more obvious assets, he didn’t have a hope in hell of concentrating long enough to pass the interview.
“Which would you pick? Arose or a daisy?” she repeated impatiently. “Weren’t you listening? That’s not a very promising start to our interview, Mr. Sylvester.”
“I was listening, honest. I’d pick a… a…” He beamed. “I’d pick you a bright red rose. One that matches your tight red… er… bright red pants.”
“Oh dear.” Her breath escaped in a disappointed sigh. “I was afraid of that.”
“Did I say a rose? Daisy! Imeant a cute little daisy.”
“You do understand that I’m not interested in marriage, don’t you?”
“I understand.”
Under other circumstances, his utter bewilderment would have been good for a laugh. Noah grimaced. Too bad these weren’t other circumstances.
Sylvester cleared his throat. “But, ah… What does that have to do with roses and daisies?”
“Everything, of course.” She snapped her fingers. “Here’s a question for you. Does it bother you that I’m not wearing shoes?”
Noah groaned. He’d bet good money that question didn’t appear anywhere on those papers she held. She was probably still stewing over his comment during their practice interview session. Another handful of weeds strangled beneath hisgrip.
“No, Idon’t mind,” Thomas reassured. “I think your toenail polish is pretty.”
“I couldn’t make up my mind which color to wear so I’m trying out the top three choices until I can decide. There’s Shell Shock Pink, Insatiable Indigo, and Carnal Coral. The coral doesn’t quite go with my red pants, but I never worry about those sorts of details. Which do you like best?”
“Carnal?”
“Yeah, that’s the one I like best, too. Aren’t those names a hoot? Idon’t know where they come up with them.”
Her papers rustled some more and then to Noah’s dismay, the clatter of her bracelets indicated she was moving toward the window. He rolled closer to the stucco wall of the house, hoping she wouldn’t glance down and seehim.
“Okay. Are you ready for my next question?”
“I guess.” Thomas sounded a hell of a lot less enthusiastic than before. “These questions are awfully strange. Ican’t quite figure what they’ve got to do with making a baby.”
“They’re vital,” she insisted. “Now if I should select you over the other applicants, I’d like to get the job done as soon as possible. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Nope. How much of a hurry are you in?”
“A big hurry and by big, Imean huge. You see, there’s some opposition to my plan.”
No joke, Noah almost said aloud. Perhaps because her idea was the most idiotic notion he’d ever heard. Not that she’d agree withhim.
To his dismay, she reached out of the window—her hand directly above his head—and plucked a hot pink bougainvillea blossom. Hell! If she dropped her gaze just a few feet she’d see him lurking beneath her like some sort of Peeping Tom. Why the devil had he agreed to take this job? He must have been crazy.
“You see, this new man I hired—the one who misunderstood my ad?” She plucked another blossom. “For some reason he’s not too keen on this idea. Not that it’s any of his business. But he could make things difficult if he chose.”
“So fire him.” Sylvester’s voice sounded fainter than before. More muffled.
She sighed. “I can’t.”
“Why not? It’s simple. Just say, ‘You’re canned, buster.’ End of story.”
Where the hell had Sylvester gone? Noah wondered. He sounded like he’d fallen down a well or moved to anotherroom.
“I can’t do that. He’s my birthday present from my mother. What am I supposed to tell her? That I don’t like him because he doesn’t approve of my having a baby?” She sighed, her hand hovering in midair. “That would go over well. My mother would kill me if she found out about my plan. But I really, truly want a child.”
“And that’s where I come in, right?”
Sami’s hands flattened on the sill and she leaned part-way out of the window, searching for more blossoms. If she poked her nose forward one more tiny inch, she’d see him. Worse, her peek-a-boo top offered far too little “peek” and way too much “boo.”
Noah silently swore, forcing himself to do the decent thing and look away—but not before allowing himself one final second to drool. Desperate for a distraction, he fixed his gaze on an intrepid millipede marching determinedly out of the garden and into the grass.
Above him the bougainvillea swayed as Sami plucked another flower and he risked a quick upward glance. Apparently satisfied with her choices, she proceeded to stick the blossoms into her hair. If this had been any other time he’d have found her actions downright adorable. But forced to watch while groveling in the dirt, infuriated him. Why the hell hadn’t he had the foresight to pull the damn bush up by its roots when he’d first gotten here and toss it in the nearest trash barrel? It would have saved him a truckload of trouble.
“Yes, helping me get pregnant is where you come in,” she addressed Sylvester. “Maybe. If I approve you, I’d like to get started right away. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not a one. I’m ready, willing—and if you turn around—you’ll see I’m perfectly able.”
She drew back from the window and Noah slowly rose from his cramped position, easing his aching muscles.
“What do you—” Her question ended in an earsplitting scream. “Thomas! What in the world are you doing?”
“You wanted to get started right away. Well, babe, let’s go.”
Noah didn’t wait to hear more. One glance in the window confirmed his worst fears. With a roar of fury, he grasped the sill and vaulted into the room. Sheer rage took over and he charged flat-out toward the overly enthused man. “You son of a bitch!”
With a yelp of horror, Sylvester stumbled backward, holding up his hands before deciding they’d be put to better use elsewhere. “Who are you?” he cried. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Who am I? I’m the man who’s gonna knock your teeth out.” Noah cocked his fist. “As to what I’m doing. That should be obvious. I’m taking out the garbage.”
“Wait! Let me explain.”
“No need. Some things speak for themselves.” In two steps, Noah caught hold of Sami’s latest baby-making disaster and took great pleasure in slamming him through the door of the parlor into the foyer. At the sound of the commotion, Loner came tearing down the hallway, barking ferociously. Noah bared his teeth at Sylvester’s terrorized expression. “Start running, buddy. It’s your only chance.”
“My clothes! You can’t make me leave without my clothes.”
“I can’t.” He snapped his fingers at Loner who howled in fury. “But my wolf can.”
With a shriek of panic, Sylvester gained his feet. Yanking open the front door, he scrambled through it. Sami proved more generous than Noah. She snatched up the clothes scattered across the parlor and raced to the door, tossing them onto the porch.
“And don’t come back,” she shouted.
Slamming the door closed, Noah turned on Sami. “Your turn,” he announced in a low, dangerous voice.
“Me? What did I do?”
He caught her arm and ushered her back into the parlor. “Loner, guard,” he commanded before closing the door. Releasing Sami, he schooled himself to silence and waited.
“You called Loner a wolf.”
“Did I?”
“Yes, you did. Maybe you should explain that.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t.”
She stared at him, her green eyes huge and alarmed. “And you’re blocking the exit.”
“I intend to continue blocking it, too.”
“And… and you’re scowling.”
“That comes as a surprise?”
“Not really.” She cleared her throat as she grappled for a different tack to use on him. “Boy, you sure arrived in the nick of time. Thanks for the assist. Ithink I’ll be running along now. Okay?”
“Not even a little.” For some reason he had trouble bringing order to the chaotic words seething in his brain. He finally managed to push them out of his mouth through sheer dint of will, though strangely, his teeth got in the way. Maybe it had something to do with the fact he gritted them so hard they were on the verge of fusing together. “That. Man. Was. Naked.”
She broke into speech. “You noticed, too? Boy, oh boy, he sure was naked. Not a blessed stitch on him anywhere. Idon’t know how I could have missed him stripping down, but I did. Shame on me. Iguess next time I’ll have to pay more attention.” She scrambled for something else to say and he waited her out, since it gave him time to recover his temper. Somewhat. “My goodness, it shocked the heck out of me.”
“I don’t know why.” The words escaped in a roar and he fought to lower his voice, with only limited success. So much for recovering his temper. “It’s clear he planned to offer an immediate response to your ad.”
“I guess you could say he got his hopes inflated. But I noticed you took the air out of his aspirations.” She winced at Noah’s expression. “And I’m grateful. Very grateful.”
“Not funny, Sami!”
“Don’t yell at me. Idon’t like it.”
“I don’t mean to yell.” He thrust a hand through his hair, tumbling the dark waves. “Damn it all! Yes, Ido mean to yell. Have you lost your mind? That man could have hurt you. If I hadn’t come in when I had—”
“You know, I’m glad you brought that up. You came in through the window, didn’t you?”
“So?”
“So, what were you doing out there?”
“Rescuing you.”
“No. Imean before that.”
“Making sure you didn’t need rescuing.”
Her mouth fell open. “You were eavesdropping on my conversation?”
He refused to feel guilty over his slip in ethics, not when considering everything at stake. “You gave me the day off. Idecided to spend it gardening.” He stalked to the window and pointed to the pathetic clump of weeds he’d yanked from the ground. “See?”
She joined him at the window and peered out. “For your information that’s mint, not weeds.”
“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t hire me as your gardener.”
“Were you listening in on my interview?” she demanded.
A hot surge of anger ripped through him. “You’re not turning this around, Sami. Be grateful I was there. Idon’t think good ol’ Thomas would have taken no for an answer. What would you have done then?”
“Gone for help, of course.”
“Really? Let’s pretend I’m Thomas.” He took up a stance in front of the doorway and gestured for her to approach. “Come on. To get help you have to fight your way past me. Show me how you’re going to do that.”
She crept toward him, stumbling to a halt just out of arm’s reach. Her face had turned so ashen he could see tiny pinprick freckles scattered across her nose. “I don’t want to try and get through you,” she said in a small voice. “You’re not Thomas and never could be.”
“Do you think you’d have gotten past him any better than you could get past me?”
“If the interview had turned ugly, I’d have fought him.”
“I don’t doubt you would have. You’re scrappy, I’ll give you that. But you’re only five foot two or three. Let’s be generous and say you weigh a whole buck ten.”
She started to correct him, thought better of it, and fell silent.
“Are you beginning to understand, Sami?” He spread his arms wide. “I’m six foot one and run a solid one-eighty-five. Now picture me naked and determined.”
“Oh, don’t try and make me feel better!” she snapped. “You should have quit when you were ahead and I was scared spitless.”
He didn’t dare follow up on that telling comment. He fought to cover his amusement by rekindling his anger. Not that it took much effort. “You bring a stranger into your house. You tell him you want to have his baby. And then you say you’re in a big hurry—and by big, Imean huge.” She started at hearing her own words repeated back to her. “I don’t know why you’re surprised or shocked or even mildly intrigued when he takes you at your word.”
“You were listening.”
“You’re damn right I was listening! And by the way, what the hell was all that about roses and daisies?” He grimaced. Apparently digressing was contagious. “Are those the sorts of questions you asked all the people you interviewed?”
“Are you done yelling at me?”
“I’m not sure.”
She planted her fists on her hips. “If you’re through, I’ll answer.”
“Fine.” He couldn’t resist a final warning. “But, sweetheart, Iswear if you ever do anything this foolish again, Iwill personally make certain you regret it.” He considered the other two thousand threats he’d like to make and decided to save them for next time. Because he didn’t have a single doubt there would be a next time. “Okay, now I’m done. Explain about the flowers.”
“I was attempting to establish whether he had any romantic interest in me.”
“Oh, Ithink he established that just fine.”
“Not that sort of interest! Don’t you get it? Roses?”
He shook his head. “I must be particularly dense. Ihaven’t a clue what they’re supposed to mean in relation to your interview.”
“Red roses symbolize everlasting love. Men give them to women they’re interested in courting. Or to express serious intent.”
“No,” he instantly corrected. “Men give flowers because women go starry-eyed over them and allow the sorry SOBs to get away with things they wouldn’t otherwise have a chance in hell of getting away with. In case you’re interested, men regard flowers in precisely two ways. One. They’re an easy way into a woman’s bed. Or two. They’re an easy way to get out of trouble with a woman and back into her bed.”
“You’re such a cynic!”
“No, I’m a realist. And here’s one more fact you can file away. Roses are only utilized as a last resort.”
He’d gotten her with that one. “Why?”
“Because they’re too damned expensive to use unless all other methods have failed. Trust me. Ilearned from an expert.”
She stared at him, stricken. “Your father?”
“Let’s just say I received quite an interesting education from dear old Dad.” He dismissed the subject with a careless shrug. “Which brings us back to my original question. Why force your prospective baby-makers to choose between a rose and a daisy?”
“I wish you’d stop calling them that,” she complained. He responded with a lifted eyebrow and she caved. “Oh, all right. Imake them choose because if they pick the rose it means they’re hoping to romance me. Idon’t want a romantic affair. Iwant daisies.”
“You’re not getting either one, sweetheart. All you’re going to end up with is serious trouble. You were lucky. Imanaged to discourage Mr. Sylvester without too much effort. What happens if the next guy is more persistent?”
“You know his name?” As usual she’d gone off on a tangent. “How long were you under that window?”
“Long enough.”
He watched as she struggled to recall what had been said. She even started checking off on her fingers, allowing him to silently follow along. First she’d asked Sylvester’s name. Then she’d made sure he understood the nature of her ad. And then she’d told him about Noah. Granted, she hadn’t called him by name. But she’d said enough for him to figure out who she meant. Best of all, she’d described him as “perfect.” He waited for her to remember that vital detail. It took less than ten seconds.
“Oh, no!” Hot color washed into her cheeks and she closed her eyes with a groan. “Oh, no, no, no.”
Noah leaned closer, not cutting her any slack. “That’s right. Iheard.”
“You heard what?” she asked with a hint of bravado. No doubt she hoped he was stringing her along and hadn’t actually caught that part of her conversation with Sylvester.
“That you called me perfect.”
She covered her face with her hands. “Crud.”
“Mind explaining what qualifies me as perfect daddy-making material?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do mind. That’s between me and whomever I finally choose to father my baby.”
No. She had to be kidding. “That’s a sick joke, right?” he bit out. “You’re not serious?”
She dropped her hands and glared at him. “Of course, I’m serious,” she retorted. “My list of qualifications is confidential. You’re just one of a… of a slew of possibly perfect daddies-to-be. Others could have the right qualities, too.”
He fought back a bellow of frustration. “I’m not talking about your damn list! I’m talking about your plan to have a baby. Ican’t believe after what happened today that you’re still intent on conducting more interviews.”
She dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. “That was an isolated incident. It won’t happen again. Next time I’ll pay attention. The minute he starts unbuttoning or unzipping or—”
“I have a solution to your baby problem.” He had no idea where the words came from, or how or when he’d formulated his plan. But he was about to plant his size twelve shoe across another ethical line. Across? Hell, he planned to vault straight over it and several others, besides.
She eyed him warily. “What?”
“Continuing these sorts of open interviews is dangerous. Next time you could get hurt.”
“I’m not giving up on having a baby!”
“That isn’t what I was going to suggest.”
“Then what?”
“I have two suggestions. Either go to a clinic and have it done in a safe environment.”
“Or?”
He fixed her with a determined gaze. “You told Sylvester you’d found the perfect man. Why don’t you consider asking him to father your baby?”