“Yeah, so?”
“So you know I’m fat.”
Anger ripped through him. It wasn’t at all like what he’d felt when confronting his grandmother and Kara and her parents. No, this was the real thing, singing through his veins, firing his blood.
Through a red haze, Noah surveyed Grace, and all he could think about was getting his hands on her. All of her. “Who says?” he growled.
She tilted her head in confusion. “No one has to say. I have a mirror.”
“And I have a hard-on.”
She drew back, blinking rapidly. “You…you’re drunk.”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t very well deny that when even now he kept swaying on his feet. “I’m also ready to combust with wanting to get inside you.” There, let her deal with that honesty.
Her gaze skipped down his body to his lap, her fascination almost tangible. Damn, but Noah felt it like a lick of fire.
Or just a lick.
“Not,” he rasped, wanting to reassure her, “that I intend to do anything about it.”
Grace chewed her lips, still staring at his cock, which without his instruction flexed and strained against the rough denim of his jeans. She lifted dark eyes to his. “No?”
Through his teeth, Noah said, “You’re an incredible woman, Grace. Too damn good to be bedding down with me.”
That caused her modesty to evaporate posthaste. “No!” She rounded the bed in a furious stomp that did interesting things to all her bouncing parts. With a short finger jabbing at his chest, she shouted, “You’re the finest man I know, Noah Harper!”
He caught and held her wrist, keeping her hand close so she couldn’t prod a hole into him. “A man presently disowned by the only family who ever wanted to claim him.”
Anger vibrated through her. Her hand opened on his chest, fisted in his sweatshirt. “Agatha is being pigheaded. But don’t worry, I’ll see to her.”
Now that thought was truly alarming. “You let me deal with Agatha.”
Her chin firmed. “I’ll do what I think is right.”
Noah scowled. “Grace, it’s not necessary for you to get involved. I have no doubt my grandmother will turn around soon enough. She might not really want me in the family—”
“She does!”
“—but she needs me there all the same.”
Her frown almost matched his own. “What are you talking about?”
“In the last few years, there’s been a shift of power in at least one aspect.” Noah felt great satisfaction as he explained, “Not only have I been in charge of all the finances, making all the decisions without influence, but the employees at the restaurant are loyal to me first, Agatha second. And she knows it.”
Looking much struck, Grace murmured, “I hadn’t really thought about it, but of course you’re right. She’s been deferring to you for so long…”
“Hoisting all the work on me, you mean. Especially anything that required a diplomatic tongue.” At Harper’s Bistro, Noah was in charge, and that gave him leverage. “Agatha tends to demand a lot for a little, and her impatience is legendary. I believe in rewarding good work accordingly.”
Grace stared at him, deep in thought. “I know you’re very respected. Agatha brags about that all the time.”
Noah didn’t allow himself to believe that. Compliments from his grandmother were few and far between. Not that he gave a damn. Not anymore.
“The fact that Agatha chose to add another chef into an already territorial mix of personnel will only alienate them more. If she doesn’t quit pushing, she’s going to end up with several key members of the staff walking out.”
And then, Noah thought, she’d be beckoning him back, despite what her society friends might have to say about it.
He knew how to deal with his grandmother, and he would.
“Oh dear,” Grace said, already jumping ahead mentally to all the complications, and likely more work such a scenario would bring her. As Agatha’s personal secretary, Grace caught the brunt of his grandmother’s temper and had to deal with the fallout whenever things didn’t go her way. Grace had fixed more messes than Noah ever would.
Noah watched Grace’s smooth brow pucker, saw her purse her mouth in contemplation. Even with all her bravado, Grace was no match for his hardhearted grandmother. Thinking that, Noah touched her cheek. She was so damn soft. All over. And it made him nuts. “I don’t need you to fight my battles, Gracie.”
“Standing up for what’s right is never a hardship.”
He laughed. “God, how did I overlook you for so long?”
He had her full attention again with that comment. Her mouth twisted in bemusement, and as if speaking to a halfwit, she said again, “I’m fat.”
“Oh no.” Noah cupped her face. His thumbs rubbed along her jaw, under her chin. “Round, hell yeah, just the way a woman should be. With beautiful breasts and a killer ass and the sexiest bedroom eyes imaginable. I did notice your eyes, Grace. I used to wonder how you’d look while having sex.”
A hot blush exploded over her face and upper chest. “You did not.” She said that as a denial—with hopeful undertones.
Noah was more than happy to reassure her. “Yeah, I did. I still do.”
She drew several deep breaths, almost gasping, then came against him hard, embracing him and squeezing him with all her might.
For a moment, Noah held himself rigid, shocked at the feel of her, how damn right it seemed. True, Grace was overweight, at least by modern, model-thin standards. But now her ripe body was against his, wiggling as she tried to get even closer, and he felt every single generous female curve.
“Oh hell.” Noah clutched at her, drawing her into him. Grace smelled like a woman. She smelled hot, and his libido rocked into overdrive. He gave up and reached down to fill his hands with her backside.
Grace squeaked and shot to her tiptoes in surprise, which only flattened her breasts against him, rubbed her belly against his crotch.
He groaned again, nearly gone, in a frenzy of lust he hadn’t experienced in far too long.
With Grace.
It was a mind-boggling reality, drunk or no.
In so many ways, Grace was taboo. She worked for his grandmother, sacrosanct in her position as personal secretary. She was a marrying kind of woman, not meant for one night or even one week of hot sex—no matter how incredible he sensed it’d be. She was earthy and real and domestic and…honorable.
“Shit.” Noah’s head swam with disappointment even as his body battled with common sense.
“Noah?”
He released her to stumble to the bed, as hindered by blazing arousal as by too much drink. He dropped to the edge of the mattress and put his head in his hands, fighting with himself, struggling for control.
He couldn’t use Grace for sex, damn it. No matter that it felt more right with her than he’d felt in years, certainly since his engagement.
No matter that she appeared to want him, too. He’d be everything his grandmother had recently called him if he took advantage of sweet, innocent Grace.
She sat beside him and touched his neck. Her fingers