Her eyes widened. “No, not at all. I just didn’t want you to feel . . . obligated to stick around.” She bit her lip and tugged at the sheet, sliding away from him. “I should shower. Gregory’s going to need a walk before you leave with him.”
She looked terribly sad. He wanted to tell her to keep the damn pig, but the words stuck in his throat. She couldn’t. And his grandmother had wanted him to have the thing.
She wrapped the sheet around her voluptuous body and turned away without giving him a backward look. He heard the boards creak in the old house as she headed down the hall to the bathroom, heard the shower start.
He lay back in bed, head on her soft pillows, staring at the ceiling. He wouldn’t see her again after today. There’d be no reason to. She’d be starting a new life in Dallas, and he’d return to his meetings, business trips, and endless emails. His grandmother’s house would sit empty and forgotten until his parents returned from their sailing trip.
Everyone would go their separate ways. As they should.
But for some reason, he kept thinking of Risa’s soft smile. The way her eyes lit up with pleasure. The delicate spatter of freckles on her hips. The plump ass pushing up against him as he’d slept. The way she’d grabbed his hand and showed him exactly what she wanted.
That was Risa in a nutshell—soft and sweet and laughing, but determined to get what she wanted. That was what had made her such a good caretaker for his grandmother. She was kind and thoughtful, with a core of steel. Hell, she no longer even asked him if he wanted the pig. She just assumed he was taking it with him.
He liked that about Risa. She intrigued him, and she was sexy, and she was incredibly stubborn. One night wasn’t going to be enough time with her, he knew. He wanted more time to explore her body. To take her a hundred different ways and see her reactions. To see what other things she’d be demanding about. He needed to find a way to keep her close to him for a little while longer yet.
Until he got her out of his system.
A brilliant idea formed in his mind.
* * *
When Risa got out of the shower, Travis was no longer in her bed. She ignored the momentary twinge of disappointment at that and got dressed. She could hear him in the kitchen, dishes clinking, and heard a small piggy squeal that told her that he’d let Gregory in from outside. Good—maybe they were bonding. Maybe this wouldn’t be as painful for all parties involved as she had thought.
The moment she walked into the kitchen, though, that thought flew out the window. To her horror, one of the casserole dishes of leftovers had been taken out of the fridge and set on the floor for Gregory to eat. The pig wolfed the noodles down, his little tail pinwheeling with excitement. At the nearby dining table, Travis had a cup of coffee and was checking messages on his BlackBerry.
She raced to the pan, sliding it away from the pig. “What are you doing? You can’t feed a pig tuna casserole!”
Travis glanced over at her, then down at the pig, his brows wrinkling together. “He was eating it.”
“He’s not supposed to eat it,” she cried, dumping the food into the garbage. “You can’t give him people food. He’ll get sick. And fat.” She shook her head at Travis, dismayed. “Your gran and I were always very careful with his diet.”
“I know the gross profit margins of thirteen different competing companies, Risa. I can do extremely complicated macros in spreadsheets to calculate financial data. I can persuade investors to purchase technology they’re certain will fail.” He glanced up from his BlackBerry to look over at her. “I don’t know how to feed a pig.”
Risa said nothing for a moment, an unhappy knot sinking into her stomach. He was right. He didn’t know how to feed a pig, and he was going to take Gregory away before he had a chance to learn. The pig was used to very specific meals and she worried about his health if Travis just fed him whatever. “If you have an extra hour or two, we can go over his care—”
“I don’t have an extra hour or two,” Travis said.
She bit her lip, thinking hard. “I can e-mail you instructions—”
“No,” he said firmly, then put his BlackBerry aside. He stood up and moved toward her, stepping carefully around the pig still staring up at Risa with hopeful eyes. “I want you to come with me.”
Huh? Risa blinked. “Come again?”
“I will pay you to come with me to Houston,” he said slowly, his face utterly serious, no hint of a smile touching his mouth. “It doesn’t have to be long. A week. Two, max. You come with me, move in to my apartment. Show me how to care for the pig. And then you leave.”
And then you leave. So cut and dry. So simple.
So businesslike. What they’d done last night was anything but businesslike. Could she be around him if all he wanted was a live-in pig maid? Why did that hurt her heart so much? She shook her head. “My friends are expecting me in Dallas.”
He glanced back down at his BlackBerry again, typing. “Do you have a job there?”
She swallowed. “Not yet.”
“I’ll pay you twenty grand for two weeks of your time.”
Her jaw dropped.
At her silence, he glanced up again. “Thirty?”
“Thirty’s good,” she squeaked. “Just to show you how to care for a pig?”
A slow, devastating smile suddenly curved his hard mouth. “I’d be lying if I said I only had the pig in mind.”
A warm flush heated her cheeks. She bit her lip, not wanting to giggle like a schoolgirl. Or seem too eager. Instead, she pointed out, “This is sounding awfully a lot like a Pretty Woman arrangement. I don’t know if I approve.”
“It’s just for two weeks,” he told her. “And if you want it to be purely business, it can be.” His tone grew crisp and efficient. Oh no. He was retreating to businessman mode. She’d screwed this up.
Her dream man was asking her to spend two weeks with him for a crazy amount of money, and here she was messing it up.
Risa suddenly pushed forward and brushed aside his BlackBerry. Before he could comment on that, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a hard, fierce kiss. His tongue gave hers a possessive stroke in response before she broke the kiss, letting her know that he was very much interested in her. “I want this to be more than business,” she told him. “Don’t misunderstand me.”