Sighing, he carried the plate to the oven, set it inside and turned the knob to warm. Feeling something rub against his leg then, he glanced down and spotted H.D. pawing at him.
“Hey, buddy,” he murmured, scooping him up again. Rubbing the little beast affectionately between the ears, he carried him back to where Ildaria was working. She’d turned the heat down under the peppers and onions, and was now grating cheddar cheese.
“I can do that for you,” G.G. offered.
Ildaria hesitated, but then set the grater and cheese in the bowl, and pushed the whole thing toward him before reaching for another bowl and the eggs.
Setting H.D. down again, G.G. began to grate cheese, but his mind was chasing itself in circles in search of something to say to get them back to the relaxed and happier state they’d been in before he’d said something stupid. In the end, sticking to business seemed the safest bet and he began to explain the accounting methods he used in England and what would have to be done to satisfy the Canadian government when it came to taxes. She listened, occasionally commenting, or asking a question as she continued to cook, and it seemed like no time at all had passed before she was sliding a beautiful, perfectly formed omelet stuffed with cheese, peppers, and onions onto a plate and topping it with a dollop of salsa.
“Grab your toast, and sit down wherever you’re going to eat. I’ll fetch you a coffee,” Ildaria said as she pushed the plate toward him.
G.G. didn’t argue. The aroma coming off the omelet was heavenly and he couldn’t wait to try it. Carrying the plate to the oven, he opened the door and started to reach in, but paused when a dish towel appeared in front of his face.
“It will probably be hot,” Ildaria pointed out, placing the folded dish towel in his hand.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, and used the cloth to grab the plate. Since he could feel the heat through the layered material, it seemed obvious the cloth had been a good idea. Shaking his head at his own thoughtlessness, he pushed the oven door closed with his elbow and then paused to stare at the knobs, debating how to turn the oven off with his hands full. Perhaps if he set the toast plate on—
“I’ll get it. You go on and start eating before your breakfast gets cold,” Ildaria called from her position by the coffeepot.
G.G. didn’t have to be told twice. He turned and carried his plates out to the bar, pausing with the swing door open long enough for H.D. to scoot through. He chose one of the booths rather than the bar. That way, H.D. could curl up on the seat next to him. He’d barely settled himself and the dog when he realized he didn’t have any silverware.
Before he could scoot out, Ildaria came through the swing doors with two coffees, the cup handles caught through the fingers of one hand, and silverware clutched in the other. She also had a jar of marmalade and a jar of raspberry jam caught between her arm and one breast. The woman thought of everything. She was also showing her waitressing expertise.
The omelet was amazing, and G.G. gobbled it up pretty quickly, grateful that she’d not only suggested it, but had made it for him. They then talked more about what the job entailed over their coffees, until Ildaria nodded and slid out from her side of the booth, taking his dirty plates and both their cups with her.
“All right, then. I think I’ve got it. I’ll take H.D. into your office and get started, so you can prep for tonight’s opening.”
G.G. wanted to protest that she didn’t have to go yet, that there was plenty of time. He was enjoying talking to her. But then his gaze slid to his watch and his eyes widened. They’d been talking for a lot longer than he’d realized. Three hours had passed since she’d walked in with H.D. The clientele would start arriving soon.
“I gave H.D. the last container of food for breakfast,” Ildaria announced as G.G. picked up the jam and marmalade. “Where will I find the food for his lunch and dinner?”
“It’s in the refrigerator in my apartment,” G.G. said, giving H.D. a nudge to get him to hop off the end of the seat so he could slide out of the booth. “I’ll run up and grab a couple now.”
“Okay.” She smiled and then turned away saying lightly, “Come on H.D., we’re going to the kitchen.”
The words were enough to make H.D. follow her. He even pranced happily at her side, his tail and ears flopping as he looked up at her and then ahead, before looking up at her eagerly again. The dog might not be able to talk, but he certainly understood a lot, and kitchen was one of those words he liked best since it usually meant food or a treat coming.
G.G. shook his head with amusement at the dog’s behavior, and then his attention slid to Ildaria, landing briefly on her sexy high-heeled shoes before moving up to her legs. The woman had killer legs with delicate little ankles and strong, slender calves. She was also wearing stockings with seams down the back, which was just sexy as hell, he decided before following those seams up to her black skirt. Now he noticed there was a slit up the back, just enough to make walking in the pencil skirt possible. It reached halfway up the back of her legs, showing a hint of the top of her stockings so that he could tell she was wearing thigh highs and a garter belt of some sort . . . which was sexy as hell to him. Damn. Who knew accountants/dog sitters could be so hot?
Down boy, he thought grimly. Lusting after Ildaria was wrong on so many levels. Not only was she an employee, which made her off-limits, but she was an immortal. Not for him.
Suspecting he’d have to remind himself of that often, G.G. set the jam and marmalade he was carrying on the bar and took the hall to the back of the building. He’d go up and get H.D.’s food . . . and maybe take a very fast, very cold shower.
Five
“Who’s a pretty puppy? Hmmm?”
G.G. paused in the doorway to his apartment at those words. Blinking, he glanced inside but all he could see was the end of the dining room table on the right at the far end of the room, and the back of his couch across from it on the left.
“Who’s a pretty puppy?”
Letting the door ease silently closed, he locked it and then started up the hall, passing the open door to the bathroom on the right and the closet on the left before the hall opened up to a large open space with the kitchen and dining area on his right and the living room on the left, both ending at a large wall of windows. What the building lacked in windows on the main floor, it made up for on the third and fourth floors. His apartment was one of two on the fourth floor. High, plate glass windows made up the outer wall here and in all the other apartments in the building. It made for a light, airy atmosphere that he usually enjoyed. But at the moment, he paid the view and the lighting little attention. Instead, his gaze found and fixed on the woman and dog in the open area between the gas fireplace and the coffee table in front of the couch.
H.D. was lying on his back on the large three-foot round dog bed. Ildaria was on her elbows and knees, her arm backs flat on the dog bed, cocooning H.D. between them, as she cooed, “Who’s a pretty puppy?” She then leaned down to nuzzle the happy dog around the cheeks and neck, then gave him a smacking kiss on his chest between his front legs before raising up to coo again, “Who’s a pretty puppy?”
H.D. was wriggling ecstatically, rolling his head from side to side with delight, and Ildaria’s bottom was waving about as she moved, her skirt pulled tight over her gorgeous butt.
G.G. had the mad urge to rush over, drop onto the floor before her and say, “I am, I’m a pretty puppy.” And beg her to hold and nuzzle him that way. Instead, he simply stood, watching her repeat the routine one final time, and then she ducked her head to nuzzle and kiss H.D. before scooping him up and suddenly rolling onto her back, taking H.D. with her so that he landed with his body on her chest and his face above hers. H.D. immediately set to licking her face with eager excitement, and Ildaria laughed and twisted her neck from side to side to keep him from getting her nose or mouth with his little, wet tongue. Her body was rolling back and forth during this exercise, her legs shifting and her pencil skirt sliding up her legs a bit more with each movement.
G.G. was watching its slow ride upward with breathless anticipation when H.D. suddenly stilled, his head jerking in his direction like a heat-seeking missile finding its target. In the next moment, the dog abandoned Ildaria with one leaping bound and raced toward G.G., ears flopping and fluffy tail wagging.
Disappointment pinched G.G. at the end to the game he’d been watching, but he forced it back and managed a smile as he knelt to greet his dog.
“Hey, buddy. Did you have a good night with Ildaria? Hmm?” he asked lightly, scooping up the little fur ball and cuddling and petting him as he straightened. His gaze slid back to Ildaria to find that she was on her feet, her skirt dropping to cover her shapely legs as she tugged her blouse back into place and then reached up to check her hair.
The neat bun she’d arrived in and managed to keep for the first eight hours that she’d worked in his office, had loosened and fallen. Most of her hair was a long black wave, ending at the part still caught in the knot. Grimacing, she tugged the fastener loose and let her hair fall free. She then moved toward him in a relaxed walk, a smile claiming her lips.
“All done for the night?”
“Yeah.” Hearing the husky sound to his voice, G.G. cleared his throat and nodded. “All done.”
“Great.” She beamed at him brightly and moved past him, giving H.D. a pat on the head. “I guess I’ll head back to Marguerite’s then. He was good, by the way. Didn’t eat a single thing he shouldn’t, or get into any trouble. What time do you want me back tomorrow?”
G.G. turned, watching as she scooped up her shoes, and bent to slip on one then the other. They were damned sexy shoes with a little black bow on each heel that he hadn’t noticed earlier.
“G.G.?”
He liked the way the nickname sounded on her lips, kind of husky and sweet. Then he realized she was waiting for an answer, and cleared his throat again. “The club doesn’t open until sunset. Half an hour before that is fine. I only had you come in early today so I could give you some pointers on the bookkeeping. But I can keep H.D. with me until the club opens.”