Page 17 of Rumor Has It

“I should have told you Monty would be with us tonight,” I whisper the apology as the car rolls along in the darkness toward Houston.

“He doesn’t hover. Taste your food or anything weird like that?”

Cassidy tried to keep her voice low, but Monty overheard. He meets my eye in the rear view mirror and winces.

“Nah, he’ll take a look around and stay close by. You probably won’t notice him at all, and you can pick anything you like off my plate if you think he’s slacking… Or that I am.”

Cassidy covers her face. “You noticed I picked at your tots during breakfast. How embarrassing.”

I remove her palm from her face so I can glimpse the ethereal beauty the head lamps from oncoming traffic give to her.

“I thought it was cute. I’m glad you were comfortable taking food off my plate. It makes me feel like you’re past the shock of seeing Isaiah Roomer scavenging in your refrigerator.”

“We’ve been doing a lot of eating. I do more than eat.” Cassidy worries her pretty lip.

I curl my fingers around hers, placing our joined hands on my thigh. “I’m trying to get to know you, Cass. You said your favorite thing was food. It was a jumping off point. A way of getting you off the estate.”

She mentioned having no choice but to cater to guests when she was at home. I’d like to spoil her, and if having her full attention indulges my needs, all the better.

“My new favorite thing might be when you call me Cass.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s the name the people who know me best use.”

I can’t help how my chest puffs out. Hearing this from her sounds like I have a chance.

“Okay, then I’ll keep calling you Cass if you call me Isaiah.”

“You said it was ‘just Isaiah’ this morning.” She shrugs, letting out a tinkling laugh.

“I did. But for all the talking we’ve done, you haven’t once called me by my name.”

The car has slowed. We’re within the city limits, close to the restaurant. Another car passes. The beams play off her dangling earrings, highlighting her gold-spun hair. It really is taking all of my willpower not to kiss her, especially when my name tumbles out of her mouth.

“Okay, Isaiah.”

Chapter Seven

CASSIDY

I say Isaiah’s name and heat flashes in his eyes. Since I opened my bedroom door, the man has looked at me like I’m the first course on tonight’s menu, instead of the nightcap.

He’s tucked me so close to him I’m practically sitting on his lap. One of his hands he laced with mine. The thumb of his other hand caresses the cut out on the side of my dress.

His light touch is driving me wild. There’s no discreet way of crossing my legs to relieve the throbbing between them. And without a partition between the front and back seats, we have little privacy. I’m uncertain if we are speaking in hushed tones because Monty is an audience, or if the attraction I have to Isaiah is leaving me breathless.

I also have an acute awareness that the bells going off in my head aren’t Christmas chimes. Nothing says “out of your league” like a chauffeur/bodyguard on a first—and likely last—date.

I’m challenging myself not to think about how often Monty pretends not to hear Isaiah’s back seat conversations. It has to happen often. I can’t help wondering if the bodyguard thinks I’m as ignorant as the other women who Isaiah has flirted with who have sat next to him in the seat I currently occupy.

There are so many jumbled questions running through my mind. Thoughts creep in about Isaiah’s late wife. Did Monty keep secrets from her?

I flinch, reminiscent of when the B&B has no vacancy and I’m busy and distracted and mistakenly reach for a hot pot.

“The steakhouse, do you like it?” Isaiah asks, sensing my apprehension.

My skin prickles as he runs a thumb over my wrist, and the ugly thoughts disappear.

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