Shira Page 2

  Rather than answer, he shrugged.

  “I-I could cook you breakfast,” she offered.

  He glared at her over his shoulder. “In other words, you’re hungry, and you want me to feed you.” He didn’t know where his light-heartedness had gone. The entire time his brother dated Whisper, he’d joked around, even if he was fighting despair and depression. Now, he couldn’t muster a smile to save his life. Maybe it had to do with the parade of stupid women Whisper had marched by him, trying to tempt him into falling in love again. She couldn’t know being human that he mated once and that was it.

  She frowned. “Is this attitude a morning thing, or are you always an ass?” After the words left her mouth, she slapped a hand over her lips. When she winced, Max’s anger flared again.

  “He do that to you?”

  She dipped her head and redirected her gaze anywhere but at his face. “No. Um, I should go.”

  “Three eggs, bacon, and sausage. I like them fried hard, and don’t be skimpy with the meat. Also toast and coffee!”

  She spun away and marched back into the house. Max let his gaze drop to her ass. Despite how slender she was, there was a roundness there that he found sexy. His cock twitched in his pants, but he forced himself around in his chair and closed his eyes. A woman like that didn’t need someone like him for a bed partner. He would have to be blind not to recognize the signs of abuse—and anything but a leopard shifter not to smell her fear.

  When she called him in to eat, Max walked into the kitchen to the scent of food and coffee. He breathed deep and noticed the full plate waiting. She’d taken his charge seriously not to skimp on the meat. Four slices of bacon and three sausages sat on his plate with more in the center of the table. He hid his approval from his expression and took a seat across from her.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Shira.”

  Pretty. “That’s unusual.”

  “I was named after my great-grandmother on my father’s side. I don’t know where she got the name, but I’ve always liked the uniqueness of it.” She offered a slight smile, and Max blinked against the sunshine in it. Irritation rolled along his spine. He focused on her plate rather than her face. She’d given herself one egg and one slice of bacon with a half a piece of toast. He grabbed the tongs and piled more meat on her plate. She squeaked in protest like a little mouse.

  “You’re too thin.”

  “Sorry.”

  He thought he’d insulted her and searched his mind for a compliment he didn’t mind giving, but none he could think of wouldn’t give her the impression he was interested. He most certainly was not.

  “You have a beautiful house,” she said, distracting him from his thoughts. “I can see where this place was once amazing and where it can be again.”

  Max muttered his thanks. “I didn’t put much effort into choosing it. My brother moved and threw all of my stuff out.”

  Shira blinked at him, eyes wide. The cute wrinkle in her nose told him she thought he was poor and a bum. He decided not to enlighten her to the fact that he and his brother had amassed a small fortune in real estate, and he bought this house with cash. Let her think what she wanted. None of it mattered anyway since he’d lost Sarah. Not the money, not his life.

  Shira licked bacon oil from her lip, and he found himself staring. His cock was so hard it was painful, and he shifted in his chair. Her hair was cut to her shoulders and straight, and it framed her soft features. Slender, she had small breasts, that scarcely caused a rise in her blouse and yet, he’d never seen a more beautiful African American woman. The large chocolate eyes were so full of innocence and pain, he almost winced from their affect on him. She couldn’t know how vulnerable she appeared, he thought, which was why he couldn’t have anything to do with her.

  Not that he was looking for a lover. Since Sarah died, there had been no one. Despite the fact that a leopard shifter experienced a more aggressive sex drive, and he was no exception, he allowed his desires to go unsatisfied since her death. He would rather suffer than find solace in another woman’s arms, least of all this tiny human.

  “Do you know if there’s any place hiring nearby?”

  He looked up from his plate. “What are your qualifications?”

  She hesitated. “Well I used to work in child care, at a center. Not a long time, so I don’t have that much experience. The place I worked at was managed by a friend, and she did me a favor. I don’t expect any other facility to hire me without a reference.”

  He was about to ask her wouldn’t the friend give her a glowing reference even if it wasn’t true, but she beat him to the punch.

  “My friend and I had a falling out,” she explained. “But I’ll take anything. I need the money.”

  “You can be my housekeeper and cook,” he blurted and then kicked himself for the impulse. He was a fool.

  Her mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

  He frowned. “If you’re too good for that…”

  “No! I’ll do it.” Her smile blinded him once again, and Max gritted his teeth. “I guess you need someone to get this place in shape. I mean have you ever cleaned it?”

  “Does your mouth always run away with you?” he growled.

  She jumped and shrank back as if she expected him to hit her. “I’m sorry. I never learn. You’d think I’d know how to shut it by now. I’m too blunt. I’m so sorry.”

  “Relax.” He rose from his chair and took his dishes to the sink. Keeping his back to her, he drew in breath after deep breath, trying to calm down. On one hand he wanted to draw this woman he didn’t know into his arms and ease her fears. On the other, he longed to beat the man to a bloody pulp who had made her feel like she had to apologize for everything she said. “You have clothes?”

  “Um.” She hesitated. “I lost my bag, but I can pick up some more things later.”

  He ignored the explanation. “You can wear another one of my T-shirts.”

  “Another one?” she squeaked.

  He peered at her. The silly woman had just realized he’d changed her clothes the night before. He couldn’t put her to bed wet. “I didn’t look.”

  Her brows lowered like she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t pursue that line of conversation. “Thank you. I’ll wash my clothes out and then clean yours when mine are dry.”

  “Whatever.” Max had to get out of there before he did something he would regret. He left her in the kitchen doing dishes and walked outside to get into his car. Something told him he made a big mistake offering her a job, but he couldn’t take it back now. The engine roared to life, and he peeled out of the driveway, putting as much space as possible between himself and Shira.

  Chapter Three

  Max. Shira chided herself for repeating his name. She was attracted to her new boss. She could admit that. The man was sexy as hell and so tall. After what she’d been through, she had no business thinking about another man, but she couldn’t help it. Max was like a big teddy bear. She didn’t know why she felt like that, but he didn’t scare her. Not too much. She smiled to herself as she dried and put up the dishes. He was gruff and rude, and she’d ended up sassing him. His roughness around the edges didn’t offend her. Shira had been hurt, so she knew another person in pain when she saw one. Max was like a wounded animal, and when a beast is injured, they tended to strike out at whoever was nearest. That meant her. Still, he hadn’t scared her off.

  Staying in the area wasn’t ideal, of course. If she wanted to start a new life, she needed to get as far away from Sam as possible. That would take money. She would stay with Max long enough to make bus fare and some extra to live off of until she found a job in whatever city she chose. The housekeeper gig would be good, too, because it meant she could hide out in Max’s house most of the time. There was less chance of her running into Sam. The night before, she’d fallen into a deep sleep when she got into Max’s car, so she had no idea how far he drove from where he picked her up. She didn’t imagine it was the ne
xt state over. That would be too good to be true.

  She pushed the curtain back at the kitchen window and peered out. There was nothing to see except beautiful trees. From what she’d seen from his front porch, he didn’t have close neighbors. That meant when she had to do grocery shopping, Max would have to take her. He could protect her for that time, even if neither of them preferred it.

  After she was done straightening up the kitchen, she wandered around the house. Max’s place had four bedrooms, and none of them were supplied with even a stick of furnishing, except the master bedroom. She stood in the doorway of that room staring in. He put me in his bed last night.

  Nervousness tightened the muscles in her stomach, but she was pretty sure he’d slept elsewhere the night before. Where, she didn’t know because he didn’t even own a couch. The kitchen set was no more than a table and two chairs. They had looked like they were meant as patio furniture rather than a kitchen, but she wasn’t one to judge. Could he even afford to hire her?

  Shira sighed. They hadn’t discussed salary. Max was a big man and a stranger. For all she knew, she could have fallen out of one bad situation and landed into another. Yet, she had no choice. She had to hope that Max was the decent person he seemed to be.

  Thinking to dust in his room since there was nowhere else to clean other than sweeping and mopping the floors, she found a rag and some furniture polish under the kitchen sink and headed back into his room. The bedroom set was deep mahogany, heavy wood, and appeared to be brand new. Maybe he’d sunk the last of his money into it. She hoped the landlord wasn’t charging him through the nose for rent. Or had he said he owned this place? She doubted it.

  When she shifted items on the dresser to wipe it down, she found a picture in a frame turned toward the wall. Shira examined it out of curiosity. The blonde staring back at her in the frame was incredibly beautiful with blue eyes and big, natural-looking breasts. “So this is his type,” she mused.

  Then it occurred to her that this woman could be the reason he looked so sad. The fact that he’d turned the picture away said volumes. He had a broken heart. She’d maybe left him for another man. Of course she’s out of her mind, and must not have looked at Max. The man is gorgeous! Her loss.

  In light of finding the photograph, Shira considered Max again. His meanness seemed more turned inward than to her, as if he wanted to punish himself for something. Maybe he’d driven the blonde away. Max was no doubt regretting it big time. She wondered what it was like to be loved that deeply, or for that matter to love someone else to that extent.

  She ran her hand over the T-shirt he’d put on her. The shirt was gigantic and hung over one shoulder. All morning, she’d been pulling it up so she wouldn’t flash him with one of her small boobs. Not like he’d be tempted when he liked them busty. She had never minded her tiny size until she started seeing Sam. Then she was hearing all the time how pathetic her breasts were, how she should get a boob job so she wouldn’t be such an embarrassment to him. Sam had never offered to pay for it, and she couldn’t afford it on her own. She suspected he thought if she did get implants, people would assume he had pushed her to it. Everything had been about image to him. Sam had a terrible cruelness, and no matter how rude Max was, she didn’t believe he was like her ex.

  Later that morning, the bell rang when Shira had just finished mopping one of the spare bedroom’s floors. She figured she could borrow some blankets and a pillow and sleep down there, because it was for sure she wasn’t sleeping in Max’s bed again. She dropped the mop and bucket off in the kitchen and headed toward the front of the house. Her stomach knotted, and she twisted her fingers. There was no way Sam would know she was here.

  She peeked through one of the windows at the side of the door and spotted a man who looked like delivery personnel. Behind him was a huge truck with a picture of a living room set designed on the side. How the heck did they find their way out here?

  She opened the door. “Yes?”

  “Miss…uh…” He checked his notes. “Miss Shira?”

  She almost laughed because Max didn’t know her last name. For that matter, she didn’t know his either. “Yes.”

  “We have a delivery for Max Macgregor—a bedroom set, dining room, and living room set.”

  “Wow, really?” Her eyes widened. Had he gotten it all on credit? Maybe he wasn’t as poor as she had assumed. “Can I see your order form, please?”

  The guy smiled. “Of course.”

  After she’d confirmed everything, she let them in, and the man and his partner set up all the furniture. She directed them to the bedroom she’d chosen for her own and hoped Max wouldn’t mind. Hers was across the hall and down a little, the farthest from his. She also hoped he wouldn’t notice that fact.

  After the deliverymen were gone, Shira straightened out her room, shoving furniture into positions she liked better. Max might change it all, but for now she arranged it her way. She didn’t know why she felt a slight excitement but put it down to this being one small part of her new life. Sam had stolen five years, and now she was free.

  When she was done with her room, she puttered some more about the house. Max didn’t show up until late evening, and by then, she had dinner waiting for him.

  He came in the side door tracking mud, and she opened her mouth to protest but clamped it shut. He glanced up at her and must have read her displeasure because he said, “What?”

  “Nothing. The people delivered the furniture.” Her words came out in a rush, and she looped her fingers together. “I hope you don’t mind I chose the bedroom at the end of the hall, near the back of the house. If you want, you can move everything. After all it is your house, and I’m just an employee.”

  “Stop.”

  She fell silent. Her breaths came in heavy pants, and he walked toward her. She tried holding her ground and then took a step back. Max towered above her and grasped her arms. Electric currents pinged all over her body, and she could do nothing but gape at him.

  “You’re upset.”

  “I’m not,” she protested.

  He frowned. “You talk fast when you’re upset.”

  She pressed her lips together. He tugged her fingers apart.

  “You also wring your hands.”

  “I—”

  He looked over her head and scanned the kitchen. Shira could have fallen over when he sniffed the air. “Was someone else here other than the delivery men?”

  She broke from his touch and backed up. “Of course not! If you must know, I take exception to you tracking mud in my kitchen.”

  His blond brow rose, and she chewed on her bottom lip, but then raised her chin. The man had no manners, and if she was going to work for him, he better get some.

  “I scrubbed this house top to bottom, and the least you could do is take off your shoes!”

  She must be crazy. He was going to fire her before she even got a dime. Max didn’t say a word for a long time. He just looked at her. Why oh why did she have to act like this? She never would have gone off that much with Sam. Not without getting her teeth knocked down her throat.

  “I’m so—”

  “Don’t you say it,” he growled. He pivoted on his heel and marched over to the door. Shira stood there in amazement while he stripped his shoes off, put them to the side, and then began mopping up his mess. When he was done, he picked up some bags he’d brought in, walked over to her, and shoved them into her arms. “What’s for dinner?”

  Shira couldn’t help feeling like they were an old married couple, but as soon as she had that thought, she pushed it away. There was no sense getting attached to Max. She was going to move on as soon as possible. Besides, why would he want someone like her? “What’s this?”

  “I’m hungry,” he said instead of answering her question.

  She rolled her eyes and laughed a little. As she tucked the bags away in her room, she considered the fact that she hadn’t laughed in forever. Come to think of it, in the short time she’d known him, Max had
n’t smiled once. She wondered what she could do to give him that pleasure.

  She left her room and found Max in the dining room, sitting at the head of the table. “I changed my mind.”

  She put a hand on her hip. “I guess reading minds is included in my job description?”

  A twitch at the corner of his mouth got her excited, but she tamped it down.

  “Check the bags,” he told her. “I can wait until you change. Maybe the blue one?”

  She frowned at him, and then it hit her. He’d bought her clothes. A tremor started somewhere deep in her belly. He was a good man. Shira wouldn’t let herself care. She couldn’t afford to. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

  He made no response.

  “I’ll hurry up.” She whirled to run back to her room. Searching through the bags, she found several sundresses, a couple pairs of shorts, and some capris. She found assorted tops in various colors and styles. All of the clothes were in her size. The man had a good eye. She couldn’t believe it. He’d gone all out, and it wasn’t necessary. Tears filled her eyes. Sam had never done anything like that. He’d once shoved money into her hand when they were planning to go to a party and said, “Don’t buy anything that would embarrass me.” Sometimes she had wondered how he could date a black woman if he was so hung up on how people viewed him, but she learned his sleeping with her was what he considered his one vice. He had a thing for black women that his sense of the perfect image couldn’t erase. She’d resented him for that view.

  Shira stripped her clothes off and threw on the robe Max had included with the clothes. She ran for the bathroom and took a hasty shower. After she was done, she put on the blue dress he had indicated. Blue wasn’t her favorite color. Lilac was, but the dress was pretty, and she wanted to give back to Max in this small way for what he’d done.

  As she left her room, she considered whether Max wasn’t similar to Sam. Max was still dominant. The fact that he’d found it necessary to tell her which dress he would like to see told her a lot. She wondered what he would say and how he would act if she’d put on the butter yellow dress. Too late now, she didn’t go back to change. The man must be starving since it was well after seven.