Bound For Me (12 page)

“I’m not sick.” She batted his hand away. And if he had a clue he’d know she didn’t have any sick leave to take. People in her position didn’t.

“You still have that poison in your system.”

“It’s really none of your business.”

Connor looked past her. “Luca. She’s not working.”

“Connor, man…” Luca raised his hands helplessly as he walked towards them. “You know what she’s like. There’s no arguing with her.”

“Sure there is.”

“No. There isn’t.” Luca said. “Not for me.” He frowned at Connor meaningfully. “It’s what she wants.”

“I take it you’ve improved your security?” Connor growled.

“Of course.” Luca answered. “Extra on the door and I’ll control numbers inside better too.”

“About time.”

“I
am
working.” Savannah interrupted before things grew edgier between the two, fully irritated with their paternalistic attitudes towards her. “Neither of you have the right to stop me.”

“No.” Connor looked at her and suddenly, unnervingly,
he
smiled. “But I’ll do the shift with you.”

“What?”

“I’ll be an extra bartender for the night.”

“
What?
” That from Luca this time.

Savannah had now lost the power of speech.

Luca cleared his throat. “My father—”
 

“Will never know.” Connor finished smoothly, tearing his blazing gaze from Savannah to look coolly at Luca. “And even if he does find out, he’ll be appreciative of my support at this difficult time. If there’s trouble in Summerhill, it affects all of us.”

Luca’s mouth hung wide. Then he moved. “Fuck it. You’re both used to being in charge. Both used to giving the orders and being obeyed.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m gonna leave you to duke it out.”

“Thanks.” Connor nodded. “It’s a friendly gesture, you understand.”

Luca glanced from Connor to Savannah and back again. “I think I get it. Real
friendly
.” He walked towards the restaurant, suddenly bursting into laughter.

Savannah stared after her him. That was it? The guy wasn’t going to say no to Connor? Didn’t
anyone
say no to Connor?
 

“Don’t you have your exclusive little empire to run?” Savannah turned to glare at him.

“I have a good team in place,” he answered idly, walking round to her side of the bar. “I’m capable of delegating.”
 

She bet he was. Figureheads, that’s all the Hughes family were. No doubt there were a zillion minions up at the Lodge doing all the real work.

“Isn’t pouring drinks beneath you?” She watched him tap out a text and then pocket his phone, before looking about to familiarize himself with the bar set up.

“Not at all. I’ve worked every job there is at the resort. Still do, on occasion.”

Oh as if.
She’d
done every job in her father’s small hotel, she’d worked round the clock trying to get it all finished and right. And she’d failed. Connor here had no clue if he thought a half hour here and there watching the minions counted as anything. “Like operating the ski lifts?”

He nodded.

Because it was fun eyeing up the snow bunnies. She bet he only did an hour or so on shift before collaring some babe to help him use those extra special items he kept in his First Aid kit. “What about the beds?” she asked acidly. “You make those too?”

“If I’m the one who’s made a bed messy. Sure, I’ll fix it up.”
 

She met his pointed stare, refusing to absorb any hidden meaning. Refusing to be impressed. “Can you make a screwdriver?”

“Screaming orgasm, sex on the beach, wallbanger… I can do them all.” He turned to face her, standing too damn close in the process.

In his black jeans and that form-skimming tee, he looked so sharp her eyes watered. And she knew he’d come here determined to do this. He’d dressed specially. But she liked that vee at the top of his tee. It offered just enough of a glimpse. Sensations stole her concentration—memory of his sculpted, solid chest and the heat of his skin…

Enough
.

“Prove it,” she said sharply.

“I just knew you were going to make me.” He stepped to the small sink and scrubbed his hands like a medic. “Like to set a challenge, don’t you?”

Savannah leaned back against the bar, trying to remain cool in the face of extreme provocation. The look of concentration on his face? The damn ruthless efficiency with which he worked? He clearly
had
spent some hours behind the bar, because he knew what he was doing.
 

“Thing is, a screwdriver isn’t so much of a challenge really.” He set the drink on the counter and turned to provoke her. “Do I pass?”
 

“You added slightly too much vodka.”

“How do you know, you haven’t tasted it.”

“I don’t need to taste it, I saw.” She straightened and turned to wipe down the bar. The wood was already gleaming, but she needed the displacement activity. “Use your measures.”

“Yes, boss.”

She tossed down the cloth. “I don’t need you to do this.”

“Too bad, I’m gonna be right alongside you every minute of this shift.”

“Oh joy,” she cooed sarcastically.

“I know. I get off on the idea too.” He suddenly grabbed her hand, pulling her hard so she stumbled, then he hauled her against him. “You get at all tired, or dizzy. You tell me.”

She sent him a withering glance, trying to hide how fast her pulse was suddenly skipping, how stupidly
excited
she suddenly was. He felt so good pressed up close to her. Her body craved more.
Skin
. Her lashes lowered as she absorbed the sensations, relived heated memories.

“You tell me.” He shook her gently, making her look back up at him. “Or I’ll find out for myself.”

“How exactly? Manhandle me some more?” And she so hadn’t meant that as the breathless challenge it had come out as.

“I wouldn’t need to. You’ll let me feel how hot you are.”

“Dream on.”

“I do. Every time I close my eyes, you’re there riding me.”

Savannah gasped and he swept his hand down her back, sending a delicious ripple of delight down her spine. His cock dug into her belly.
 

Hard. Big.
Hers.

If she wanted it.
 

Savannah fought to hold herself rigid and not rub against him. Or worse, rest against him.

You’re stronger than this. You don’t need anyone.
Never need anyone.

“You and Luca’s father don’t get on?” she asked. Anything to distract herself from the crazy urge to rise onto tip toe and press her hungry mouth to his. The guy was her enemy.

“
Rex
and Bill don’t get on. My father wanted this location, it’s the one bit of land we don’t own. Bill refused to sell. And it’s the hottest restaurant and bar in town.” He sighed.

“So you’re working for the competition for the night?”

“No,” he answered in a low voice. “I’m working for
you
.”

Savannah looked up at him. Big mistake. His eyes were very blue, very serious. And so easy to get lost in.
 

“Why would you want to do that?” she asked.
 

“I want—” He broke off. Then breathed. “Because.”
 

“I don’t need you to rescue me.” She tried to step away from him, but he tightened his arms.

“I know. And you won’t let me do that anyway. I’m just keeping you company.”

No, there was more to it that that. “Why? Because you’re hot for it?”

His mouth twisted wryly. “Because I don’t trust you.”

Truth at last. She stiffened. “Let me go, there are people arriving.”

Slowly, too slowly, he released her.
 

Savannah turned away, quickly licking her dry lips. “It gets very busy, you sure you can keep up?”

“I think I can hold my own.”

Ten minutes later the bar was packed out with beautiful, rich young things and Savannah was working it.
 

“You’re good.” he said as she poured the latest mix perfectly to the salt-edged rim of the glass.

“I’ve had plenty of experience.” She watched him pop the cork of a bottle of eye-wateringly expensive champagne—without spilling a precious drop. “Seems you have too.”

“Don’t we make a good team?” He sent her a meaningful look and then walked past—almost brushing against her—to pour the glasses.

The awful thing was it felt good to have him so near, shooting looks down the bar that made her toes curl in her boots.
 

The only thing she could do was glare back and then work harder, faster. The ultimate in distraction was in besting him behind the bar.

“So ruthlessly efficient,” he muttered, his voice laden with innuendo, as she passed him.

She didn’t lower herself to reply, instead she focused on mixing, on throwing cocktails, juggling bottles. It was all about the show. And yes, ruthless efficiency. She was good at her job. She didn’t deserve to have lost her own damn bar. And one day, she’d get it back.

“Are you pouring the drinks tonight?”
 

Savannah glanced over at the oh-so-sultry purr. A gorgeous redhead was drinking Connor in with her eyes. Could she get her cleavage any further over the bar?

“Helping out a friend.” Connor answered with a smile as he set the redhead’s drink in front of her.

“Anything else I can get for you?” he asked.

“Plenty.”

Yeah. It was obvious what else the redhead wanted. Savannah looked down the length of the bar. Seemed word was out about the new bartender because it was the pretty girls lining up.

“What can I get you?” Savannah stalked to the other end of the bar.

“Oh no,” the girl giggled. “I’ll wait to be served by
him
.”

Savannah gritted her teeth and turned to the next customer. A male. Good. He grinned at her and her ego lifted.
 

“Who’s that new bartender?” he asked.

“Connor Hughes.” Savannah clipped.

“No.” The brunette next to the guy gasped. “
The
Connor Hughes?”

“Apparently so,” Savannah tried to smile.

“That can’t be Connor Hughes. No one hardly ever sees Connor Hughes, there’s no way he’d be serving people behind a bar.” The guy said.

“You don’t think?” Savannah asked.

“I
know
. He never leaves his office. Never mixes. Always works.” The guy said frowning at Connor.      

“Well now he’s working here and I need an introduction.” The brunette interrupted and leaned over the bar towards Savannah. “What does he drink? What does he like to drink?”

“I’m not sure,” Savannah answered between gritted teeth. “But what can I get
you
to drink?”

“Oh nothing. I’ll wait for him to serve me.”

Right. She’d be waiting a long while then, because the crowd down Connor’s end of the bar was now five deep.

And he, damn him, was handling it. Not with any great speed or with her bottle juggling flashiness. But handling it with cool, measured patience.

“I’ll take a beer, please, Ma’am.” Another guy stepped in with his order.

Savannah sent him a dismissive glance. “Of course.”

Had Connor really worked all the jobs at his resort? Is that why he hardly ever left the Lodge? Didn’t he party with the guests?
 

She pulled the beer from the fridge and straightened. But damn, she was confused. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with her free hand.

When she looked up, ready to get on with it, Connor had materialized right in front of her.

“What are you doing?” She snapped at him after three seconds of just standing there. “I have that guy’s beer. Move.”

He didn’t move. He didn’t stop frowning. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

He wanted to talk transportation plans
now
? “Not necessary. Luca is.”

Connor carefully put the bottle he was holding onto the bar.
 

“Connor?”

He took the beer bottle she was holding and placed that on the bar alongside his.

“There are customers waiting,” she hissed. Millions of beautiful, nubile, customers all of whom apparently wanted
him
.

“I don’t give a damn. You’re not going home with Luca.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m getting a lift with him.”

“You’re not getting in his car,” he leaned close to whisper in her ear. “I know what you like to do in cars late at night with a man.”

Only the
one
man.

She turned her head to whisper back, so the piles of customers waiting couldn’t hear. “I can do what I want, with who ever I want, where ever I want.”

“And what is it you want?” His face loomed close.