Wild in Love

by Bella Andre

  Especially when calling this cabin a house was…generous. The floor and walls were bare except for a standing kitchen sink, a makeshift wooden counter to hold a microwave and a laptop, a couple of boxes on the floor filled with kitchen paraphernalia, an air bed in the corner by the wood stove, one sling chair, and a camp stove. The kitchen itself was missing both appliances and cabinetry. The only convenience besides the sink was a mini-fridge that would fit milk and yogurt and not much more.

  “The fireplace was starting to crumble, so I put in a wood-burning stove that keeps the place nice and toasty.” She flourished her hand as if she were showing him an array of sparkling diamonds.

  She’d done a surprisingly good job tearing out the old stone and installing a large wood-burner with a sensible catalytic converter. It would heat the kitchen and family room, with a hint of warmth for the bedroom too.

  Noticing his glance at the air mattress, she toed it with her booted foot. “It’s surprisingly comfortable, and it’s even got its own pump. The only problem is that when it’s cold, the air inside goes cold too, so I have to pile as many blankets underneath me as I do on top of me. Which is why I dragged it in here.” She gave a nod to the bedroom. “Also because there’s a couple of holes in the floor in there—well, maybe more than a couple.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “I didn’t want to break an ankle in the middle of the night.”

  Her voice was like a shower of music over him, and he didn’t say anything in order to keep her talking.

  She twirled in the middle of the room, her arms out. “I put up insulation and Sheetrock on the inside because you could see right through the wood siding in places, where the wind whistled through at night. It needs taping and texturing, of course, and then I can paint it,” she added, as though embarrassed at the bareness of the Sheetrock. “And some of the floorboards were rotting, so I replaced those. But I’d really like to lay down a proper subfloor and hardwood. Or laminate.”

  “Hardwood,” he suggested, though she hadn’t asked for his opinion.

  She was completely animated now, showing him her accomplishments, pride bringing a rose blush to her cheeks. Despite his initial impression that the place was a dump, after her mini-tour, he was amazed by everything she’d done, seemingly by herself.

  “Where’d you learn how to do all this?”

  She pointed to a laptop. “YouTube videos and do-it-yourself shows. It’s amazing what you can learn on the Internet. I figured out how to install a toilet and a new shower, plus a vanity and sink. I just have to do the tiling. Then of course, there’s the kitchen. And the roof. But I need to wait for more consistently sunny weather before I tackle that.”

  “You did all this yourself? From scratch, without knowing a thing?”

  “Well, yeah. I don’t watch just one video before I start a new project. I view a bunch, because everyone has different techniques. When you combine them all, everything works like magic.”

  Her smile knocked him sideways. Again.

  “Do you want to see my toilet?” She pointed behind her to an open door just outside the bedroom. She was already backing toward it, her eager gaze tugging him.

  He laughed, something he couldn’t remember doing with a woman he was attracted to in, well, long enough that he simply couldn’t remember. “A woman asking if I want to see her toilet is definitely a first.”

  She clapped her hand over her mouth, her words muffled behind her palm. “Oops. Sorry. I didn’t think about it. It’s just been so long since—” As if he’d waved a magic wand to put her to sleep, something shuttered in her eyes.

  Wishing he’d kept his damned mouth shut, he said, “I’d love to see the toilet.”

  She didn’t laugh, didn’t even smile. “That’s okay. I’m sure you’re busy. And it’s enough that you helped me off the roof. You don’t have to be wowed by every single nail I’ve hammered too.”

  But he wanted to know what she’d been about to say before she caught herself. Yes, she was far from the perfect woman he’d been wishing for an hour earlier, but he still liked her enthusiasm, her excitement. “I’m working on my own cabin down the hill from you. It would be good to see how you’re approaching things.”

  Before she could turn him down again, he sidestepped her to check out the bathroom. She’d installed a standard porcelain floor-mount next to a neat vanity with a wood bowl sink, its faucets and fixtures gleaming. The shower was a free-standing, European-style corner unit that he’d recommended on his show, with the drain in the floor.

  “It looks great,” he said, meaning it.

  “I’m going to put in a tile backsplash,” she said softly, “with blue and green glass. I just have to figure out what paneling to use that won’t clash with it.”

  “There’s a style that looks like a log cabin if you’re interested.” He stocked it in his stores.

  She tipped her head, considering it. “I could see how it might work, but I really want the blue-green glass.”

  “You could still do that. Just leave space in the paneling.” He tipped his head too, almost touching hers. “But I’d recommend doing the tile from wall to wall, not just over the vanity itself. Better continuity. Maybe if you have any drawings for what you’re planning, I could show you exactly what I’m talking about?”

  “Well,” she said slowly, as though torn about taking him up on his offer, “I don’t have any formal drawings. But there is a video that’s pretty much in line with my plans.”

  “Great,” he said, already heading over to her laptop before she could change her mind.

  She typed in the name of the website, then scrolled down the page to the video she wanted to select. A beat later, his face filled her screen, his voice pumping out over the onboard speakers.

  “Oh my God.” She hit the pause button at a particularly unflattering moment, his open mouth and squinted eyes flash-frozen on the screen. “What did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t. And you didn’t say yours.”

  “You’re not—” She pointed at the appalling freeze-frame.

  “Daniel Spencer.”

  She gazed at him in horror. “Is that a yes, that’s me, or just a no, that’s just some guy who happens to look and sound like me.”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  She groaned, covering her face with both hands. “I can’t believe this. I’ve been watching you for hours and hours, and I still didn’t recognize you.” She peeked out from between her fingers. “In my defense, can I say that I’ve mostly just watched your hands in the videos to see what you’re doing with the wood or tile or pipes?”

  Nothing about her words should have made the cabin suddenly feel hot. But just thinking about her watching him—even if she really had been looking only at his hands—made the fire that had begun to burn inside of him the moment he’d pulled her against him on the ladder jump at least a dozen levels hotter.

  Chapter Four

  “Tell me your name,” Daniel said in a low voice that made Tasha feel warm all over in ways Eric never had, “and we’ll call it even.”

  “I’m Natasha, but everyone calls me Tasha.” She hoped, with no little desperation, that he wouldn’t ask for her last name. Daniel was in the building industry, and her father had been building a resort, so it wasn’t impossible that he could connect the dots.

  But her father hadn’t planned to actually build anything, had he? So it was unlikely that the two of them would have crossed paths.

  Still, her stomach tightened and twisted, as it had for months, because who knew how far her father’s devious net had spread?

  Thankfully, Daniel simply stuck out his hand and said, “Nice to meet you, Tasha.”

  His hand was large and warm, with the most delicious calluses. Work hands. Big, tough man hands.

  She’d already been on the verge of overheating simply from being this close to him—even with his shirt on, she would have been fighting the urge to drool—and now the feel of him wrapped around her hand like a blanket.


  Forcefully, she reminded herself that all of this—her feelings, her attraction, her chatter—was bad. Wrong. She was supposed to steer clear of people, stay far away from temptation.

  Maybe if he’d been just an average Joe, she’d be fine right now. Although honestly, it felt so good just to talk to someone that she’d gone on and on about every little thing she’d done around the place.

  She wished she could chalk up her wildly beating pulse and slight breathlessness to being halfway to giddy after her fall, then shocked all over again after being rescued by a gorgeous, chocolate-eyed Adonis. One standing so close that she could smell the scrumptious all-male scent of him. It made her lightheaded and tongue-tied.

  How could she have failed to recognize him immediately? Then again, who would ever have thought the Daniel Spencer would rescue her off a pitched roof? A tall, dark, handsome, filthy-rich guy showing up on her falling-apart doorstep?

  That was like the prince putting the glass slipper on Cinderella’s foot and having it fit. It only happened in fairy tales.

  The one thing Tasha knew for sure—the only thing she knew for sure anymore—was that her life was no fairy tale.

  “You were going to show me…?” He pointed at his face on the screen. “I’d really like to stop staring into my open mouth, if you don’t mind.”

  Horrified all over again—she couldn’t seem to do anything right today—she started to shut the lid on the laptop. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

  “No. Please. Show me.” He tapped the touchpad, and his gorgeous screen mouth started speaking again. His voice was as chocolaty as his eyes, making her bones melt and her legs turn to jelly.

  Why did he have to be living in the mansion down below?

  The problem was that she needed him gone at least as much as she was dying for him to stay. He was too much temptation for her to rejoin the world.

  Heck, he’d be too much temptation even if he looked like Godzilla, which he most definitely didn’t. It didn’t help, of course, that his sexy male scent tantalized her. The fine hairs on her arms rose as though trying to reach out to him. She rubbed her hands up and down her skin, trying to settle herself down.

  “This could definitely work for your bathroom,” he said after he’d watched ten or so seconds of the video, “especially if you continue the tile over the toilet, like this.”

  As he traced the screen, she could almost feel him caressing her skin in gentle lines and circles. He turned, felling her with a smile that would either knock her dead, or make her heart start beating right out of her chest.

  “I’ve got an app on the website where we can sketch it out.”

  We.

  She loved the sound of we. Even if she hadn’t been alone for over three months, she would have loved the sound of we. She’d always been a people person, always felt more energized after a great conversation or party than by a quiet evening in. And it felt terrific to have him in her house—the only home that had ever truly been hers. To talk to someone besides the squirrels and birds and herself. Plus, he was surprisingly good at listening.

  But she was in exile. She was here to do penance. To atone for her sins.

  Which meant she couldn’t let herself feel all breathless and giggly and sexy around him. She most certainly couldn’t fall for gorgeous billionaire Daniel Spencer.

  Really, she reminded herself, she didn’t even know him. What if the man seemed nice and helpful—but was really a secret ax murderer, or was running his company as a front for illegal activities?

  She’d proven herself to be absolutely terrible at reading people’s true characters and motives. For God’s sake, this guy owned the biggest chain of home-improvement stores in the world. And he was on TV, too handsome for mere mortals. A celebrity. A rich guy. They always had their own agendas, didn’t they? Okay, so there wasn’t one single thing about him that screamed ax murderer or money launderer or even snooty know-it-all.

  Then again, she hadn’t thought her family could be any of those things either.

  “The app is free,” he added, as though he thought that was why she hadn’t responded. “Would you like to download it?”

  It struck her that he was asking what she wanted to do instead of telling her, the way her father would have done. Or Eric.

  As if she were wiping her windshield clean, she deliberately scraped all those thoughts out of her mind. Or she would go stark crazy. Besides, Daniel would be gone soon, and then she’d have to settle back into her solitude.

  For just this one teeny-tiny moment, she wanted to enjoy him for all she was worth and savor the memory for the endlessly quiet days and nights to come.

  So she said, “Yes, please.”

  After he demonstrated how to use the app, she couldn’t help raving. “That is so cool. I could even do the kitchen using this. Plus, I can test out the log cabin paneling you talked about.” Maybe it wasn’t right for her to be so excited about turning her vision for the cabin into reality, not when living in a dilapidated shack was supposed to be part of her penance for her family’s con jobs. But after a lifetime of longing for a real home, she simply couldn’t help herself. No more than she could keep herself from excitedly asking Daniel, “Did you build this app yourself?”

  “I told a designer exactly what I wanted.” He gave her a half-smile that only made him look more gorgeous. “I’m pretty sure he hates my guts now. I’m damn picky.”

  “I would love to have built something like this for you.” She spoke without thinking.

  He raised his eyebrows. “You build apps?”

  Silently cursing herself for her mistake, she said, “I’m a graphic designer. Or at least I was…until I moved up here.” She waved her hand at the screen, trying to be nonchalant about it. “I used to develop websites and do interactive stuff like this.”

  He turned, their noses almost touching, and homed in on the one thing she hadn’t wanted him to focus on. “Why did you come here? All alone. To renovate a cabin by yourself.”

  Her racing heart thudded to an abrupt halt. This was exactly why she needed to keep away from other people. If she hadn’t been chattering on, he wouldn’t have felt he could ask her such a pointed question. Now that he had, she would have to tell him the same thing she’d emailed to her friends before she headed off—not a lie, but not the complete and very difficult truth either.

  “I hit a crossroads and needed to unplug from the rat race.” Unplugging was something everyone always said they wanted to do, so thankfully, no one argued with it. The irony was that Tasha was someone who longed to be plugged in all the time, not to digital devices, but with other people. “I needed to learn to depend on myself and no one else.”

  “Well, you should definitely be proud of what you’ve accomplished.” Again, he was far kinder than a billionaire needed to be. “How-to videos are practically my bread and butter, and yet I never knew anyone could get so much done simply from watching them.”

  “I also asked a lot of questions at the hardware store. So many that now the staff run in the opposite direction when they see me coming.”

  “None of my clerks had better do that.” He was surprisingly stern. Gorgeously so. “You’re exactly the kind of customer we want. Eager, willing to experiment, open to trying new things.”

  A blush crawled up her cheeks, despite her trying not to melt into a puddle at his feet. Eager. Willing to experiment. Open to trying new things. It was really hard to remind herself that he wasn’t talking about sex.

  He pushed the laptop toward her. “Show me your work. I’d love to see it.”

  She was so busy trying to shove her hormones down that it took her several beats to realize what he’d said. “Work? You want to see my work?”

  “Maybe I could use you when I’ve got another project.”

  Three months ago, she would have leaped at the chance to work for Daniel Spencer and Top Notch DIY. It would have been a dream come true. So she had to force out the words, “Sorry, but
I don’t do that stuff anymore. I’m done with the rat race. I like it here in my own little cabin in the mountains. The simple life. No frills.” She hoped she sounded convincing, because most of it was true. She really did like the mountains. She just missed her work, her friends, and talking to someone other than herself.

  “Fair enough,” he said as the screen went blank in front of him. “Hopefully, the app will help you put your simple life together just the way you want it. If you need extra tools, feel free to come down and borrow anything I’ve got.” He pointed up. “About the roof—”

  She cut him off before he could offer the moon and the stars as well. The nicer he was, the harder it became to remember why she didn’t deserve nice things. “Thanks. I’ve got everything I need.”

  Except someone to talk to. Someone to watch the sunrise and the sunset. Someone who made her laugh. Someone with unruly curls she could run her fingers through and dark chocolate eyes to gaze into.

  No, no, no. Daniel seemed great, but so had her father when he’d offered her the commission for the website, saying it would be so good for her career. He’d been doing her such a big favor, giving the project to her instead of a big, professional company. Giving her a chance. So caring, so altruistic.

  When really, he’d just wanted someone who wouldn’t ask a lot of questions. But he’d destroyed her career. Her name had been on that website. Her reputation had been damaged. Along with her heart.

  She’d been blind to her father’s faults all her life. And she’d been blinded by Eric’s slick façade too. So how was she supposed to figure out if Daniel Spencer was really as great as he seemed—or if it was all just a big lie?

  And if he did turn out to be great, that would be even worse in some ways, because then he should be with someone equally marvelous, rather than a woman who had the stink of a nasty con job all over her.

  “Well, if you do find you’re missing something, feel free to stop by.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “As I’m sure you can tell, I’m building my own cabin too.”