Before We Kiss (Fool's Gold #14)

He ignored his erection and walked to the window in the spare room. After parting the curtains, he stared into the night. Not that there was anything to see. They were in a residential area of Fool’s Gold. Everyone was asleep. Nothing bad ever happened here.

He opened the window and breathed in the cool air. It felt good on his bare chest, but seemed to tease his groin more than assuage his hunger. Maybe that was simply a function of wanting Dellina. Little could take away that ache except the woman herself.

A voice in his head that was suspiciously close to his mother’s whispered that there was another way. But Sam ignored the suggestion. He wasn’t a fourteen-year-old anymore. He would deal and eventually his arousal would subside.

To facilitate the process, he left the bedroom, thinking pacing would help. He would walk the length of the living room until he was tired and able to sleep. But on the way, he passed Dellina’s office. Her computer sat on her desk. Maybe going online and playing games would help.

He walked into the room and quietly closed the door behind him. He moved to the desk and switched on the light there, then booted up her computer. After sitting down, he shifted a few papers to give him access to her keyboard.

One of the pages fluttered to the ground. He picked it up and recognized the name of one of the vendors. When he saw the amount she’d been billed, he frowned.

As they’d agreed, all billing ran through her. She got an estimate, told him the amount, then placed the order and paid the vendor. He, in turn, paid her. With all they’d been purchasing and the speed with which everything had to be pulled together, he’d given her a retainer so she had the cash to make the purchases.

Per their contract, she billed out her time on an hourly basis. She also added a small percentage to each item purchased. So if the goodie bag contained thousand-dollar watches, she added a 5 percent bump when she billed him. Only the amount on the invoice didn’t match what he’d been billed.

Sam turned back to the computer and clicked on the browser button. He went to the Score website where he logged on. Once in the secure section he was able to access his information, including invoicing. Sure enough, there was a discrepancy. Dellina had billed him the amount of the estimate, plus her 5 percent. The problem was the estimate was about three hundred dollars less than the actual amount billed. She was absorbing the difference.

He swore under his breath as he looked at the stacks of invoices on her desk and in-boxes in her office. The part of him that guarded his privacy said that he couldn’t explore without her permission. The businessman in him said Dellina was getting screwed and that had never been his intention. He didn’t work that way. He believed in getting the best deal possible, but not at anyone’s expense.

He didn’t understand what she’d been thinking. Why wouldn’t she bill him the amount she was billed? Was it some twisted sense of pride or a lack of business training? Either way, the problem had to be fixed.

Sam rose and walked toward the box of invoices on the floor. He hesitated for a second, before picking it up and dumping it on a nearby table. Then he started going through the pages one by one.

* * *

DELLINA TIGHTENED HER robe around her before leaving the bathroom. She would dress and finish with her hair before making an appearance in the main part of her house.

She knew Sam was up—she could smell coffee. Anticipation fluttered in her stomach. They’d spent the night together. Albeit in different rooms, but still. It was the closest she’d come to any action since their ill-fated night on Valentine’s Day.

She’d thought she might toss and turn, but she’d been out the second her head hit the pillow. Now she poured herself a cup of coffee and went looking for the man in question.

She found him stepping out of the bathroom. He hadn’t showered yet, or dressed. As an interesting factoid, he wore pajama bottoms but not the top, which meant he was bare chested and his face was stubbly.

It was a potent combination, she thought as she came to a stop and looked at him. Over the next five seconds, her burning goal was to keep her mouth from falling open. If she could do that, then she could probably get through the rest of the day.

His shoulders were broad, as was his chest. He was muscled, but not too much, and perfectly defined. The hair on his chest narrowed at his waist, arrowing toward what she remembered as a very large—

“Good morning,” she managed.

“We have to talk.”

His tone was determined, almost harsh. She blinked. “Okay. About what?”

“Your invoicing.” He pointed to her office.

She led the way, then nearly dropped her mug when she walked inside and saw that her entire office had been attacked by some neat freak. Instead of open boxes overflowing with papers, there were neat stacks of full file folders. What looked like a comprehensive report sat next to her keyboard. Her computer was on and humming happily, but that seemed to be the least of her worries.