Free Waking Sleeping Beauty by Laurie LeClair Page A

delighted. However, he’d scowled at the number of men lingering around her, touching her arm, and giving her their cards.
    With that ad, Peg might as well have declared King’s a dating service. He shook his head at his harsh words to Francine. It wasn’t her fault. He knew that now. But then, when her mother had arrived, he’d suspected the worst: Francine and her mother had arranged the ad and the subsequent groom-seeking.
    Now, Francie dodged him as she rushed past. “Wait, Francie, before we join them.” He nodded to Dolly gently scolding Charlie for getting up again. “I want to apologize.”
    She gripped the placemats to her as she glanced into his eyes.
    “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
    “Done?” she asked, trying to duck around him.
    He held out his arm, essentially trapping her against the counter. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.
    “You should be,” she countered. “Now will you let me go?”
    Her sudden candidness made him chuckle. Being this close to her had his blood buzzing. She was off-limits, so why did he dare to cross the line? Why did she capture his attention and interest more than any other woman had?
    She intrigued him, made him go hot all over and lose track of his tried and true practice of never, ever getting involved with his employees. “We need to work together,” he said, wondering if he’d finally convinced himself hands off Francie while conducting business.
    “At the store, of course. Away from the store, we can be polite. How’s that?”
    Why didn’t he like that? It was exactly the code of conduct he needed to observe.
    “Let’s make a deal, Marcus.” Her voice sounded like honey. “No more outside contact.”
    “Outside contact?”
    “No more taxi cab rides, or going with you to visit your mom, or meals at Charlie’s. And no more…” her gaze drifted to his mouth, “kisses.”
    Could innocent words cut you to the quick like that? He tried to recover from the sinking sensation in the pit of his belly. But she did have a point. So why did the heat of her stare contradict everything she’d just said?
     
    ***
     
    “Deal?” he asked, sticking out his hand. Hesitantly, Francie eyed his hand: long, square, solid. It was a hand you’d never find weakness in, or indecisiveness; no, nothing but confidence, firm, strong conviction. It reminded her of her father’s handshake she’d often witness. Many a deal had been sealed with just that, a handshake. His flesh skimmed hers, palm touched palm; she slid her hand in his, feeling as if his large grasp engulfed hers.
    There was something there, electricity, she thought as her nerves zapped along where he touched and up her arm
    “Deal,” he said softly, too darn softly. His voice, low and sugarcoated, poured over her, sinking into every crevice.
    Reluctantly, he pulled away. “No more touching.” He seemed to make that one up as he went along.
    “Agreed.” She curled her fingers into her palm, trying to hold onto that one last forbidden touch. Skirting by him, she rushed to the table, making short, quick work of setting it. Her sister’s eyes followed her. “Alex late?” she asked, her words mere gasps as she tried to stomp down on the stab of pain shooting through her.
    “Working late. He’s setting up the West Coast division. Remember, I told you that when you got here?”
    Francie stopped for a moment, jerking her gaze to Charlie’s curious stare. How could she have forgotten the reason for the dinner invitation? Charlie’s new husband had called, begging Francie and her sister, Priscilla, to visit so he could feel reassured his wife had company while he fulfilled his obligations to his family’s business tonight—a dull, boring business dinner.
    Smiling tightly, she shrugged off her forgetfulness. “Too bad Prissy had a night shift, huh?”
    “What’s going on?” Charlie whispered, glancing at Marcus and Dolly put the finishing touches on the meal.
    “I’m under the gun,” she said,