he dressed for going to bed, or working out in the gym in the east wing of the house, which Grace had also discovered when she went exploring earlier today? He certainly didn’t look all hot and sweaty, which he surely would have if it were the latter. Probably the former, too, if he hadn’t gone to bed alone …
Whatever the reason for his casual clothing, his presence in the kitchen seemed to have sucked up all the air in the room, making it difficult for Grace to breathe, and his lean and muscled frame looked immense in the confines of the darkened kitchen, so much so that she felt sure he must rival in muscle any and all of the security guards he surrounded himself with.
‘What a waste …’ Grace heard herself murmur—and then winced as she realised she had spoken completely without thinking; just because she suspected that this man and Raphael were involved, there was no reason for her to say it out loud. In the circumstances, it was the last thing she should have said!
‘Miss Blake?’ Cesar prompted tersely.
‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing.’ She gave a firm shake of her head. ‘What was I feeling before I ate the chocolate mousse?’ she repeated desperately as she saw the way those dark eyes had narrowed speculatively. ‘Homesick, if you really want to know, and a little lonely. And chocolate always has a way of making things seem a little less bleak, don’t you think? No, of course you don’t, because you don’t eat sweet things. Why is that, by the way?’ She looked up at him questioningly, and then wished she hadn’t as she felt a decided click in her already tense neck.
Something that would become an occupational hazard if she had to stand and have too many conversations with this man. Which clearly wasn’t going to happen, because he was going to have Rodney shoot her and hide her body in the woods—
And you’re becoming hysterical, Grace, she admonished self-disgustedly. Unfortunately that realisation in no way helped to dispel those feelings, if her next comment was any indication, or the way in which she appreciatively eyed the muscled expanse of Cesar Navarro’s chest when she made it. ‘It certainly can’t be because you’re afraid of putting on unnecessary pounds.’
No, Cesar acknowledged ruefully, he really didn’t have any idea what Grace Blake was going to say—or do!—next. Nor was he about to explain to this strange young lady that he had given up eating desserts because he considered them unnecessary frivolities. ‘Did you perhaps drink some of my wine, too, this evening, in an effort to dispel those feelings of loneliness?’
‘Certainly not.’ She looked indignant at the suggestion. ‘I rarely drink, and never when I’m at work.’
‘I am glad to hear it,’ he drawled dryly.
She blinked, obviously unsure as to whether or not he was being sarcastic. ‘I’m just a little tired, that’s all.’
And a lot emotional, was Cesar’s guess.
He straightened. ‘In that case, perhaps it would be better if we were to continue this conversation in the morning.’
Those blue-green eyes widened. ‘Am I still going to be here in the morning?’
‘As opposed to being “dispatched” and buried in the woods behind the house?’ Cesar murmured softly.
Colour once again warmed her ivory cheeks. ‘Maybe that was a little hysterical of me.’
He arched mocking brows. ‘A little?’
Her eyes snapped with temper. ‘Well, you would hardly have security guards here in the first place if you didn’t intend for them to protect you, should the need arise!’
His mouth thinned impatiently. ‘I do, however, draw the line at asking them to shoot outspoken cook/housekeepers. Even temporary ones,’ he added abruptly.
‘Oh.’ Her guilty gaze dropped from meeting his as she obviously accepted that summary of her conduct so far this evening.
‘Unless you are suggesting I might be in need of protection from you?’
Grace’s breath had lodged somewhere in her throat as the sultry huskiness of his tone brought to mind—totally inappropriately!—thoughts of running her fingers up that broad and muscled chest to his tousled, just-had-sex hair, as she brought his mouth down to hers and—
Oh, good grief!
She must be feeling lonlier than she had realised if she was having thoughts of kissing Cesar Navarro, of all men. If she was having thoughts of kissing any man she had just met!
Oh, she’d had her share of boyfriends over the years, but none of those relationships had been in the least serious. She certainly hadn’t been so bowled over by the sheer sensuality of any of those men that she had fantasised about kissing him within minutes of meeting him!
She wasn’t fantasising about kissing her new boss, either! What would be the point, when his sexual inclinations obviously lay in a different direction?
‘No, of course not,’ Grace assured him briskly. ‘As you say, perhaps it would be better if we finished this conversation in the clear light of day.’
He continued to look down at her with those brooding dark eyes for several long seconds, before slowly nodding his head. ‘I will call for Rodney—so that he may escort you to your cottage, not “dispatch” you,’ he snapped his impatience as Grace’s eyes widened in alarm.
She breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I’m quite capable of walking back to the cottage unescorted.’
His mouth tightened. ‘It is late, and very dark outside.’
Grace grimaced. ‘And there are so many security guards out there that there’s no way anyone from outside could possibly get in and attack me!’
Cesar’s eyes narrowed. ‘You seem overly concerned by the presence of my security guards?’
‘Perhaps just curious as to the need for so many of them?’
His mouth tightened. ‘I am not in the habit of explaining myself. To anyone.’
‘Least of all temporary employees.’ Grace nodded. ‘It’s the cameras everywhere that give me the creeps.’ She glanced up at one of those cameras in the corner of the kitchen, the pulsing red light showing that it was a live feed. ‘You do realise that someone in the basement is watching the two of us right now?’
‘But they cannot hear our conversation,’ he assured her impatiently.
‘Which is probably as well!’ Grace grimaced. ‘My remarks haven’t exactly been polite,’ she admitted ruefully as Cesar raised questioning brows.
No, this young woman’s conversation had been far from the politeness he was used to, Cesar acknowledged derisively. So much so that he found Miss Blake’s conversation strangely … refreshing, after years of stating his wants and needs and knowing they would be immediately satisfied; Grace Blake gave the impression she didn’t do anyone’s bidding unquestioningly.
As evidenced by the vase of pink lilies, which had adorned the table in the entrance hall earlier today, but which now stood in the middle of the kitchen table.
‘It seemed a pity to waste them,’ Grace defended quickly as
