Pool Man Read Free Page A

though I were a child who needed drying after a frolic in the pool.
    I frowned at him.
    Incomprehensibly, laughter danced in his eyes.
    They were gorgeous, those eyes, steamy and warm and flecked with fascinating amber lights. He lowered his lashes. They fanned his cheeks.
    “Inside, you,” he said, nudging me forward. “You need to eat.”
    It felt nice having a man order me around. But only because he was guiding me toward the table in the breakfast nook, which he’d set with elegant china, silverware and linen napkins. A basket of steaming muffins and a carafe of orange juice held the place of prominence.
    As I stepped inside the kitchen, the most phenomenal smells hit me. It was like a wave, a barrage of delight. Cinnamon and spices. Cheese and eggs. And something else that made my mouth water—
    And then it hit me and hit me hard.
    Damn . I was hungry. Really hungry.
    My knees wobbled.
    Jimmy was there, right behind me. He guided me to the table and helped me sit.
    I didn’t need any help sitting, I was a grown woman after all, but it was nice. He poured me a glass of orange juice and was back in a minute with a redolent cup of coffee. I took a whiff and nearly fainted from the pleasure. I took a sip, and think, perhaps, I did. My vision went a bit hazy.
    “You like eggs?” he asked.
    I turned my face away so he wouldn’t see me wrinkle my nose. I did like eggs. Just not burned ones. “Um, sure.”
    “Excellent.”
    He moved around the kitchen behind me, making what I assumed were kitcheny noises. I’d never been much of a cook. I focused on the muffins. Broke one open and took a whiff. It was a delightful froth of swirled cinnamon and tiny chunks of apples. I slathered a half with butter and took a bite.
    And I think I had an orgasm.
    Holy heaven. It was that good.
    I had wolfed the whole thing down by the time he brought me a plate with a fluffy frittata, flecked with asparagus and tomatoes and ribboned with melted parmesan. It smelled incredible. And it wasn’t burned in the slightest.
    I cut off a bite with my fork and popped it into my mouth.
    Yeah. Another orgasm.
    I wasn’t much of a foodie, perfectly happy with a jar of peanut butter and a spoon, but this—this was magnificent.
    “ Ohmygod ,” I murmured.
    “Good?” He sat down next to me with his plate and another—filled with crispy bacon.
    Oh, that had been the other smell.
    I peeped at him and snagged a slice. His lips twitched.
    “How long has it been since you ate?” he asked.
    “Why? Am I eating like a Viking?”
    “Kinda.”
    I had to laugh at his expression. “It’s really good.”
    Jimmy leaned back in his chair and watched as I inhaled the frittata, more bacon and another muffin. I didn’t even think about the calories. Who could? I would have eaten more, eaten it all, but my stomach protested.
    He watched without saying a word.
    When I was finished, I pushed away and fought back a yawn.
    The travel, the sun, the tequila and now a full belly had done me in. As self-indulgent as it was in the middle of the day, I wanted a nap.
    But that’s what this week was all about, wasn’t it? Pleasing myself.
    No whiny clients to placate. No outraged managers to soothe. No ridiculous kerfuffles to unfuffle.
    Me. Me, me, me.
    I smiled at Jimmy. “Thank you for breakfast,” I said politely as I scooted back the chair and stood. I wrapped the towel, which had slipped off my shoulders, around me again. “And now I think I’m going to take a nap. Where did you put my things?”
    He leapt to his feet and waved down the hall to the left of the kitchen. “The blue bedroom.”
    “The blue bedroom?”
    “Yes,” he said solemnly. “Because it matches your eyes.”
    I couldn’t hold back a grin. He was so adorable. “And…will you be joining me in the blue bedroom?” Shameful of me to flirt so, but I really couldn’t help it.
    The question seemed to befuddle him. His jaw went slack and his nostrils flared. His pupils dilated. “I,