“Good morning,” he said.
She’d taken a seat near his usual one at the end of the table, and had already helped herself to eggs, toast and coffee.
“Good morning.” She seemed to hesitate.
He looked at her thoughtfully. Perhaps she was feeling her way past any uncertainty on the morning after?
Well, he’d have to rectify matters. Before taking his own seat, he bent toward her, and when she looked up automatically, he brushed his lips across hers.
At that moment, André, the chef, brought in a dish of eggs and bacon for him, still warm from the kitchen, saving them from further conversation.
Sawyer helped himself to a scone from a plate already on the table. He was famished, and he smiled to himself when he thought about why.
“Tea?” Tamara inquired.
“Yes, thanks.”
Usually, André poured his tea for him. He liked it strong, with a little sugar and no milk.
“Thank you for bringing in breakfast, André,” Tamara said as she reached for Sawyer’s cup and then a tea bag. “It is delicious. You’ll have to share your recipe for these lovely scones.”
André smiled. “Thank you, madam.”
Sawyer lifted his eyebrows. Of all his household help, his chef was the most reserved and formal. The fact that Tamara had quickly developed a rapport with him spoke volumes.
Sawyer couldn’t remember the last time he’d complimented his chef. He paid the man well to prepare his food, and had come to expect as a matter of course that André would perform to his usual high standards.
Seemingly oblivious to his surprise, Tamara poured hot water and added just the right amount of sugar to his tea, and then placed Sawyer’s cup and saucer on the table next to his plate.
After Sawyer had taken a bite of his eggs, she nodded at his laptop. “I’m surprised you haven’t surfed the news sites already.”
“I checked my BlackBerry before coming down,” he responded, and then felt his lips twitch. “But thank you for your concern that I not neglect my work.”
Normally, he would be engrossed by his laptop, Sawyer admitted to himself, but this morning, he had more enticing distractions. Namely, his wife.
He could think of many pleasurable ways to spend the day with her, but he acknowledged that at least some of those should involve something other than a bed.
Nevertheless, he let his eyes caress her face.
Tamara cleared her throat. “Speaking of your work, I suppose we should talk about where we’re heading from here.”
There was no need for her to elaborate. His quest to control Kincaid News had been the motivation behind their marriage of convenience, but they’d arrived at a new status after last night.
“Perhaps we should take things as they come,” he hedged with care.
His motivation was becoming tangled, he knew, but he didn’t want to examine it. He wasn’t clear anymore on how much he was pretending.
He knew the terms of his handshake agreement with Kincaid, but truth be told, last night he hadn’t been thinking about the possibility of a pregnancy. Instead, he’d been ruled solely by his desire for Tamara, and the pleasure of making love with her.
Want was merging with need and leaving obligation behind.
Tamara regarded him carefully. “We didn’t use any protection.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You aren’t on the pill or any other contraception?”
She shook her head. “There was no reason to be. Tom and I—”
“—weren’t intimate,” he finished for her. “Yes, I know.”
Sawyer was glad he’d gotten rid of the sad-sack musician. He wasn’t Tamara’s equal. Sawyer thought that instead she needed someone that was—well, him.
More importantly, last night he could have made Tamara pregnant. The thought of a child—his and Tamara’s—filled him with profound feeling. He discovered he wasn’t averse to the idea at all—far from it—and not only because of his pact with Kincaid.
Still, he knew that for now he had to focus only on overcoming Tamara’s trepidations. He’d accomplished the first step of getting Tamara into his bed. He could concern himself later with getting her to agree to dispense with contraception altogether.
“We’ll use something from now on,” Sawyer said, and then shrugged. “It isn’t likely that last night will have…consequences.”
“And if there are consequences?” Tamara asked after a pause.
He reached out and ran his hand along Tamara’s forearm in a reassuring caress. “We’ll work it out.” He tried to lighten the mood. “You know, newlyweds have children all the time.”
“We aren’t like other newlyweds,” she disavowed. “We have a business arrangement.”
Sawyer felt an unaccustomed prick. “It certainly felt as if we were newlyweds last night.”
She looked away, and a pink flush tinged her skin. But when her eyes came back to his, her chin rose. “I spent my life avoiding you—this.”
“Likewise,” he teased, “but I found that sleeping with the enemy was fantastic.”
She arched a brow. “Recharged your batteries, did I?”
Sawyer laughed, glad to see the spirited Tamara back. “Face it, sweetheart. Our charged relationship makes us fantastic in bed.”
“Fishing for a compliment?”
He flashed a grin. “For acknowledgment.”
He watched her eyes flash, but when she opened her mouth to respond, he laughed and stole a kiss before she could say anything.
Still, when he straightened, she said doubtfully, “This is a bad idea.”
He arched a brow.
“Us, as lovers.”
Actually, he thought that being Tamara’s lover was one of his most outstanding ideas ever.
“Our parents made poor matches.”
Too true, he thought with a grimace. Still. “That doesn’t have to apply to us.”
“How can it not? We’ve talked about this. Our parents’ marriages failed because of incompatibility. The only difference was that my mother wasn’t a wealthy American heiress, but a starry-eyed girl from Texas who’d just begun to model.”
Sawyer’s lips tilted upward. “After last night, I can certainly relate to the urge to give in to desire.”
“Exactly, and I’m afraid we’ll let—” she waved one hand around “—physical attraction cloud our judgment.”
“What a delightful prospect.” He looked at her with hooded eyes. “Let’s retire upstairs right now and put that proposition to the test.”