Free Maid for Martin by Samantha Lovern Page A

drifted to Joe, the friend, but he just wasn’t what she wanted. Shame on Celia. She has Martin Taylor plus the handsome limo driver. She paused as she reached for the light switch. Maybe Mike was the cause of her dream. Maybe Celia was going to get jealous of her over something.
    She dismissed the thought and turned on the light. The kitchen was empty and she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Moving to the fridge, she stood looking inside. What did she want, pudding or pizza? They both sounded good.
    The pudding would suffice, and be filling, but the pizza would be better. “What should I have, dinner or desert?”
    “Why not have both?”
    Randi closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. Though she’d only known him a few days, she would know that voice in an ice storm on a tin roof. Well, not really, but she did recognize it now. Instead of choosing, she closed the door and turned. Her brow shot up instantly. Wow! Was the only thing she could think.
    It looked as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. He had on jeans, a white muscle shirt, no shoes and a towel around his neck. He’d shaved just a bit of his scruffy-looking beard. It made it appear darker around the edges, but he still looked good. Very good.
    She remembered she hadn’t said anything, but was just staring. That was rude, and a bit obvious, so she stepped back, “Were you going to get something to eat too?”
    “Yeah, why don’t you get the pizza out and we’ll split it?”
    “I can do that.” Randi did as he said, taking out the box and turning to look at him. “Cold or hot?”
    “It’s a little warm. I just took a swim and a shower . . . ” He stopped talking when she turned and gave him a dirty look. “Oh, you meant the pizza. Cold.” He gave a sly smile that let her know he knew exactly what she meant.
    She set the pizza on the table. Mike moved dangerously close as he reached into the fridge, pulling out two colas. She inhaled the fresh, clean, man-smell as he moved around her, and then they both pulled out a chair and sat across from each other.
    The table in the kitchen might seat six but there were only four chairs. It was a small table and she could easily reach across and take his hand, but she didn’t.
    Randi handed Mike a paper towel and he opened the box of pizza. Several slices remained. As she moved her gaze from the box, to the wife beater shirt, to the beard, to those blue eyes, she smiled.
    “You guys didn’t eat much.”
    “I kind of lost my appetite. I didn’t mean to sound—”
    “Let's just leave it there.” Randi looked away and took a slice of pizza out of the box.
    “Are you sure? I can apologize again.” He flashed a handsome smile and she nodded.
    “I’m sure you could, and I would accept, but it’s not necessary.” She grew quiet, looked down, waited a moment, and then looked back up. “I do have a question. You might not want to answer it.”
    He took a bite of his pizza and shrugged. “I can try.”
    Randi wasn’t sure she’d be able to ask, but she wanted to know. He’d hinted earlier that he wasn’t free to ask her out, so maybe he’d finally give her the answer she didn’t want to hear. She ate her bite of pizza, took a long drink, and as she set the cola down, looked into those blue eyes again. “Are you dating the lady of the house?”
    Mike didn’t glance away this time. He just nodded. “Yes.”
    “You’re a brave man. Here they warn me up and down to stay away from Martin because Celia is jealous and you’re . . . uh . . . dating her? Does that mean he’s fair game?”
    Mike shrugged. “Well, it should be,” she continued. "Wouldn’t it help you if he was busy chasing after someone else?”
    “It might.” Mike paused, took a drink, and then went on, “If I was going to be dating her in the future.”
    Randi stopped and would have choked had she been about to swallow. The look on the man's face wasn’t the look of a man interested in Celia. It was the look of a man