Page 24 of Thoroughly Innocent Intent

“My name is Samantha. And there’s nothing wrong with my furniture. It’s normal sized.” She picks up her pen to get back to work. She’s adorable when she’s trying to stay on task.

“I’m not normal sized.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Plus, I’m hungry.”

I feel the eye roll even though she’s looking at her notes. “You’re always hungry. I feel like I should keep snacks in my desk, so you don’t starve.”

“Ah, a woman after my own heart.” I place a hand over my chest. She stiffens with a tiny gasp. I hate that she still has trouble believing I’m actually interested in her. “Dani just brought over a stack of meals. I can heat something up and we can work on this over dinner.”

“Dani?” She hesitates.

“My chef. Each Tuesday she brings over my meals for the week, so I don’t have to eat out all the time.”

“You want to do this at your house?”

“What’s wrong with my house?” I try not to smile. No one has ever turned down going to my house before.

“It’s sort of private,” she hedges.

“So’s this office,” I point out. “And you’re not afraid to be alone with me here.”

I can see her mind working on overtime, trying to decide if she’s ready for this. What it might mean. Before she can work herself up too much, I grab her hand and take the pen away, linking her fingers with mine.

“Things at my house will be no different than they are here or anywhere. Well, my ass won’t be falling asleep, and my stomach will be full, but that’s the only difference.”

“O…okay.” She exhales, giving me a tentative smile.

I give Samantha my address and make the twenty-minute drive to my house, half expecting her to change her mind on the way over. But a few minutes after I pull into the garage a set of headlights winds its way up the drive, and a white Volvo sedan comes to a stop a few yards from the front door. It’s such a practical choice for a practical girl, I can’t stop the grin from crossing my face as she gets out of the car.

Or maybe it’s just her I’m grinning at. She’s striking in her prim and proper sleeveless dress, but she’s oblivious to it, which makes her all the more attractive.

“What?” She scrunches her nose as she makes her way toward me.

“Oops. Busted.” I laugh, extending my hand. She takes it gingerly, and before she can object, I bring it to my lips for a quick kiss. “You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”

She shakes her head, blushing furiously.

“I mean that.” I give her hand a little squeeze. “You’re beautiful, but you couldn’t flaunt that if you tried. You also can’t take a compliment without second guessing it, but I don’t say things I don’t mean, so stop dismissing me when I give you one.” I lean over and give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Her mouth forms a little ‘o’ as that cheek turns crimson. With another chuckle I pull her inside.

“This is a lovely house,” she says as her eyes roam over everything from couches to kitchen cabinets.

“Thank you. I’ll tell my designer you approve.” I wink.

“Designer? You didn’t pick any of this out yourself?” She spins around.

“Not really. I mentioned the colors I like and how I would use the space, and this is what I came home to.” I look around wondering how Samantha sees things.

I suppose it’s clear this is a bachelors place with the black and cream and wood theme I have going on, but hopefully it says ‘sophisticated’ bachelor instead of frat boy. Based on her wide eyes and soft expression I think it does.

We deposit Samantha’s bag on the kitchen table, and I head to the fridge to see what our options are. She takes a seat at the island and runs her hand over the counter.

“What’s this?” She traces a vein of white running through the black surface.

“Soapstone.” I pull out a container of Chicken Cacciatore and preheat the oven before turning to face her.

“I like it. It’s sort of like marble in reverse.”

“Huh, you’re right.” I look at the counter as if seeing it for the first time. “I just thought it’d be easier to keep clean than white.”

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