She felt chilled suddenly, and her hands shook. She was more scared than she realized. She placed both hands against her cheeks. I guess I should go back upstairs.

"Are you okay?"

"Just a little shook up."

He reached out and pulled her into his arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Maybe a glass of wine will sooth your nerves?"

As far as she was concerned, standing here with his arms around her was more soothing than a glass of wine could ever be. "That sounds good."

He pushed back, gave her a quick friendly pat, and then opened the fridge. "Nothing fancy, just a bottle of chardonnay one of the guys brought over last night."

"Wine at a poker game?"

"Sally sent it with Harold."

"That was nice of her."

He got out two glasses, found a corkscrew to open it, then poured them each a half-glass. She raised her glass to his. "Here's to a successful renovation."

His expression seemed to soften as he clinked his glass against hers. "To success, whatever that may be."

They sipped together and then just stood there, his gaze never leaving hers.

She felt like an amoeba under a microscope. "What are your plans once the bar is finished? Will you stay and run the place?"

He scowled. "I'd never live here again."

"Then why renovate?"

A wicked smile curled his lips. "Because I can."

"And why hire me?"

His expression became shuttered. "You needed a job. I need someone to do a job."

"Everything you've done is more than I'd have expected." She pursed her lips. "Considering."

"One might think that," he said, edging closer until he was standing mere inches from her, so close she could feel his body heat. "Or, one might think I have other motives."

Her heartbeat quickened. He didn't mean... Oddly, the idea aroused her. Made her pulse race. She pulled herself up. "Do you..." her breathing became heavy and suddenly she didn't give a damn and she waned to kiss him in the worst way "...have other motives?" she breathed.

His gaze had locked on her mouth, and he seemed to be inching closer. Or was she the one moving closer? Did it even matter? She leaned forward and kissed him, soft at first, then quickly she brought her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss with a passion she didn't know she had in her. His lips still on hers, he brought his arms around her, lifting her, kissing her back as passionately as she was kissing him.

She felt his shoulder muscles under her fingers, his hard body pressed against hers, his obvious need.

She wanted to touch him, all of him. But just as her hands dropped lower on his back, he pulled away.

Her lips throbbed.

"This is a really bad idea," he said, his breathing labored.

"Oh, no." she said, her voice sounding husky and not her own. "It's a wonderful idea."

He dropped his arms and took a step back. "Uh...as nice as that was, it wasn't my motivation for hiring you."

Her face warmed. Was that sarcasm? No. She'd seen the heat in his eyes, seen his awareness of her. She walked slowly around him, picked up the bottle and poured more wine in her glass. She took a slow sip and looked directly into his eyes. "No? You could've hired any number of people with my skills."

A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

"Maybe you only think you hired me for my skills...and other altruistic reasons," she continued. "Helping a woman with a baby and all that."

He dragged his gaze from her head to her toes, then back again. He crossed his arms. "Or maybe I hired you because you were always so unattainable and now you need me."

Excerpt from Going for Broke by Linda Style
Harlequin Superromance (December 2007)
ISBN 978-0-373-71443-8
Copyright © 2007 by Linda Style
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.
The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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