as you do, the same unexpected wave of nausea that would come and go. I guess I just got pretty good at recognizing ‘the look.’”
“And I—” Clair bit her lip “—I have that look?”
Kiera slowly nodded.
“Oh, my God.” Clair sank back into her chair. Wide-eyed, she stared blankly out the window. “It’s possible. There was that one time …”
Clair’s gaze flashed back to Kiera. “Please don’t say anything about this to anyone. I want to be sure, and if I am I have to tell Jacob first.”
Kiera nodded, couldn’t help but note the irony of the situation. “Of course.”
“Oh, no—” the green tint in Clair’s face deepened “—here it comes again.” She slapped her fingers to her mouth and jumped up. “I’ll be right back, don’t leave. Please don’t leave.”
Clair didn’t wait for an answer, just hurried to a door at the back of her office and ran through it.
Kiera rolled her head back and groaned softly. The last thing she’d wanted to do was call attention to herself, but, between doing her job well and having a loose tongue, she’d practically screamed to be noticed.
With a heavy sigh, she started to turn and sit back down, but a grouping of silver framed photographs on Clair’s shelves caught her attention.
Family photos.
Almost afraid to look, but knowing she had to, Kiera moved closer. There were several pictures, but one of them practically leaped off the shelf at her. Her pulse quickened as she picked up the photo and stared at it. Clair sat on the top rail of a corral fence; two men stood on either side. One of the men Kiera recognized—Rand Blackhawk. They were all smiling, not a posed smile, but one of those shots where someone with a camera sneaks up and captures the essence of the moment on film.
Kiera’s fingers tightened on the frame. All three shared the same golden, bronzed skin, the same high cheekbones. The same thick, dark hair.
So familiar. So incredibly familiar.
Beyond William Blackhawk’s obituary, Kiera hadn’t been able to find out anything about the Blackhawk family. It wasn’t as if it was a subject that came up with the few people she’d had contact with in this town. If she started asking questions, there was no doubt in her mind she’d draw unwanted attention. Of course, she’d already done that in spades.
“Hi.”
Kiera whirled at the sound of Sam’s deep voice close behind her. The photo slipped from her hands as she turned, and she could do nothing to stop its descent. She watched the frame bounce off the plush carpeting, then fall open, spilling the glass, the back cover and the photo onto the floor.
Horrified, Kiera dropped to her knees.
“Sorry.” Sam knelt beside her, reached for the frame as she reached for the photo. “I guess you didn’t hear me knock. I thought Clair was in here.”
“She is—she was—she’ll be back shortly.” Carefully, she lifted the overturned photo, stared at the names handwritten on the back: Rand, Lizzie, Seth, at the Double B.
“Lizzie?”
She hadn’t meant to speak out loud, but the name slipped out.
“Clair’s birth name is Elizabeth Blackhawk.” Sam slid the glass back into the frame. “Her parents died when she was little and she was adopted by a family in South Carolina.”
Her parents died when she was little … Kiera let the words sink in. “Clair was adopted?”
“It’s a little complicated.” Sam took the picture from her, dropped the picture and backing into the frame and held it up. “There we go. No damage done.”
No damage done? If only that were true. She couldn’t seem to stop the sudden, uncontrollable shaking. She had another piece of the puzzle now, but the picture still made no sense.
“Hey.” Frowning, Sam set the frame back on the shelf and took hold of her arms. “It’s all right.”
It wasn’t all right, she thought. Nothing was right. It had nothing to do with a dropped frame, but she couldn’t tell him that.
And why did she suddenly want to?
Because she was weary of the charade. Of the lies. Of feeling so damn alone.
Through the fabric of her blouse, she felt the warmth of his large hands, felt his strength. This was crazy. More like insane. Kneeling on the floor in Clair’s office, Sam’s fingers wrapped around her arms. So close … so damn close …
Lifting her gaze to his, she met the intensity of his eyes.
His hands tightened on her arms, his mouth flattened into a hard, thin line. She couldn’t breathe, was afraid if she did she’d lose this moment she so badly needed.
Time slowed; her heart raced. She heard everything around her: the quiet ripple of water from the fountain; the faint tick of a desk clock; the distant laughter of children by the pool downstairs. The sounds surrounded her, enclosed her in a world of her own. A world where nothing else existed but her and this man she’d been fantasizing about for days.
Of course, none of her fantasies had been on the floor in Clair’s office, she thought dimly. But even that didn’t seem to hinder the response she was having to Sam’s touch.
This was so wrong, so completely inappropriate, and even that didn’t seem to stop her from wanting this. From wanting him.
Sam’s hands tightened even more firmly on her arms; a muscle jumped at the corner of one eye. He made a low, angry sound, then dropped his mouth on hers.
The moment his lips covered hers, right or wrong or inappropriate was no longer an issue. Nothing mattered, nothing at all, other than the feel of his mouth on hers.
She tasted his frustration, his anger. His need. He crushed his lips over hers, demanding, insistent. Sensations ripped through her, overwhelming, intense. Her hands clutched his suit lapels, fisted. She leaned into him, into the sheer desire gripping her. Her fantasies had been nothing compared to this. Not even close. How could they have been?
Sam jerked his head back and loosened his grip on her. “Kiera.”
Dazed, and definitely confused, she slowly opened her eyes. His face appeared to be cut in steel, his narrowed gaze fierce. He rose, pulling her with him, then dropped his hands from her arms.
She stared at him, struggled to gain the control that he’d so easily attained. Knowing that she’d practically begged him to kiss her, she felt like a fool.
“I—I’m sorry,” she said, but her heart was still pounding hard, her breath still frayed. “I—”
“Sorry I took so long.” Clair stepped back into the office, stopped short. “Oh, Sam, you’re early.”
“I didn’t realize you were with someone.” Calmly, he bent and retrieved the frame still lying on the carpet. “I’ll come back.”
“That’s not necessary.” Kiera felt the heat of her blush on her cheeks, watched Clair glance curiously between her and Sam. “I was just leaving.”
“Actually, Kiera …” Clair said, her tone reserved “ … if you don’t mind, I need another minute of your time.”
Dammit! Kiera bit the inside of her lip. As if it wasn’t bad enough she’d made a fool out of herself with Sam, she was about to get a reprimand on employee-employer relationships. “All right.”
“Thank you.” Clair glanced at Sam. “We won’t be long.”
He hesitated, then reluctantly turned and left the room.
Kiera squared her shoulders and faced Clair.
“You