Page 22 of Sasha’s Secret

The way he said her name almost had her squirming in her seat. “I’m fine with water, if you are?”

“Absolutely.”

“Great,” Geri said. “I’ll be back in a few moments.”

Having delivered the replacement pitcher, the young woman took the almost empty one away, leaving Sasha and Rocco alone once more. Sasha turned a wry smile on her companion. “She’s right about Chef—he can be a little temperamental when things don’t go his way.”

“Something tells me there’s a story there?”

Sasha shrugged. “It was a showbiz party. A lot of guests, and some of them got a little carried away. Illicit substances may or may not have been involved, but there was definitely an abundance of alcohol. Some of the guests found their way to the kitchen, and… Let’s just say, Chef nearly had a meltdown to rival Chernobyl, and Geri earned every last cent of the bonus I authorized for her that week.”

Rocco laughed, and something turned a somersault in Sasha’s chest. The lighthearted reaction revealed a whole different side to him. A man like him could have any woman he wanted. Especially when he looked at her the way he was looking at Sasha, now that the laughter had died away.

“I enjoyed our run tonight.”

A certain kind of warmth suffused her body, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. “So did I. It was good to have some company.”

Especially such delectable company. Rocco had inspired her to up her game, so her regular run had suddenly become a lot more interesting.

“So tell me—when you switch off your computer for the day, and you’ve been for a run and dinner’s out of the way, what do you find to do? How do you fill your spare time?”

Spare time was a luxury she didn’t waste. “Sleep, usually. Or I sometimes read. Why are you looking at me like that?” Sasha tried not to respond in kind to the smile he was trying to stifle.

“I… can’t really imagine you lazing round, reading.”

“Why not? Reading is a perfectly honorable way to pass the time.”

He didn’t look convinced. “So what do you read?”

“Books, of course,” she hedged.

“You know that’s not what I meant. What kind of books? Fiction? Non-fiction? Biographies?”

Sasha shook her head. “What is this? The third degree? Some sort of weird psychological evaluation?”

“Not at all.” Rocco raised his glass to his lips. “I’m interested. What about days off? What do you do when you have a whole day away from your desk?”

She gave a short laugh. “I’ll let you know when it happens. Linzi usually needs me for something at least once a day.”

Rocco’s brow creased in disapproval. “That’s harsh.”

“Says the man who works in close protection, a field not known for keeping regular office hours.”

“Touché.” He raised his glass in salute. “That’s probably why being able to go for that run tonight was a welcome change.”

“Does that mean you’d like to do it again?” They hadn’t really discussed it, but Sasha had more than a passing interest in the answer.

Rocco’s gaze pinned her to her seat. “I’d love to.”

Before Sasha could respond, Geri reappeared with two steaming plates. “Here you go. Enjoy.”

“That smells delicious.”

Sasha liked the way Rocco directed his comment to Geri. She also liked the sheepish grin that appeared on Geri’s face. “Are you responsible for this, Geri?”

“Chef told me to get on with it, so I got on with it.” A male voice suddenly roared Geri’s name. She rolled her eyes. “I think I’m wanted elsewhere. I’d better go. Enjoy your evening.”

The spicy chicken dish was a favorite of Sasha’s, and she was pleased to hear it met with Rocco’s approval, too. Not that he said anything intelligible—the giveaway was the hum of satisfaction that accompanied his first taste.