by Nora Roberts
"You call it professional integrity, I call it ego."
"And you're wrong," he said with deceptive calm. "Again."
She could have drawn in then and tried tact and subtlety-if she had thought of it. "Are you telling me it would have compromised your integrity to move that silly waterfall from east to west?"
"Yes."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. But typical," she said, rising to pace the tiny walled-in terrace. "God knows it's typical. Sometimes I think architects worry more about the color of paint than stress points."
He watched her as she paced. Her stride was long and loose, the kind that ate up ground from point to point easily. A woman going places, he mused. But he wasn't about to be walked over so that she could get there.
"You've got a bad habit of generalizing, Red."
"Don't call me Red," she muttered, then tugged an orange blossom off the vine. "I'll be glad when this project's finished and I'm out on my own. Then I can pick what architect I want to work with."
"Good luck. It might just be difficult for you to find one who's willing to put up with temper tantrums and nit-picking."
She whirled back. She knew she had a temper. She wouldn't deny it or apologize for it. But as to the rest… "I don't nitpick. It's not nit-picking to make a suggestion that would save laying an extra hundred feet of pipe. And only an egocentric, hardheaded architect would see it that way."
"You've got a problem, Ms. Wilson." He saw and enjoyed the way she stiffened at that. "You've got a low opinion of people in my profession, but as long as you pursue yours, you're stuck with us."
She mangled the flower she was holding. "Not everyone in your field's an idiot. There are some excellent architects in Arizona."
"So it's just architects from back east you don't like."
She wasn't going to let him put words in her mouth and make her sound like a fool. "I have no idea why Tim felt he had to hire a firm from out of state to begin with. But since he did, I'm doing my best to work with you."
"Your best could use some polishing up." Setting his beer aside, he rose. His face was in shadows, but she could tell by his stance that he was as angry as she was, and primed for a fight. "If you've got any other complaints, why don't you get them out now while there's just the two of us?"
She tossed the bruised flower, like a gauntlet, between them. "All right, I will. It infuriates me that you didn't bother to come out for any of the preliminary meetings. I was against hiring an East Coast firm, but Tim wouldn't listen. The fact that you were unavailable made things more complicated. Meanwhile, I've got to deal with Gray, who bites his fingernails and is always looking up codes or shuffling papers. Then you come out and swagger around like the cock of the walk, refusing to modify even one line of your precious design."
He took a step toward her, out of the shadows. He was angry, all right, she noted. It was just her luck that his temper made him more attractive. "In the first place, I had a very good reason for missing the preliminary meetings. Good personal reasons that I don't feel obligated to discuss with you." He took another step. "The fact that your employer hired my firm over your objections is your problem, not mine."
"I prefer to think of it as his mistake, not mine."
"Fine." When he took the next step toward her, she had to fight back the urge to retreat. His eyes could be very dark, she discovered, very intense. He didn't remind her of a casual beachcomber now, or an easygoing cowboy. More like a gunslinger, she realized, but she held her ground. "As to Gray, he might be young and annoying, but he also works hard."
She felt a flush of shame and jammed her hands into her pockets. "I didn't mean…"
"Forget it." He took a final step that brought him so close that their bodies nearly brushed. Abra kept her jaw set and her eyes on his. "And I don't swagger."
She had a ridiculous urge to laugh, but something in his eyes warned her that that was the most dangerous thing she could do. Instead, she swallowed and lifted both brows. "You mean you don't do it on purpose?"
She was baiting him, plain and simple. He hadn't missed the light of amusement in her eyes. She wanted to laugh at him, and he'd be damned if she'd get away with it. "I don't do it at all. You, on the other hand, put on that hard hat and those steel-toed boots and stomp around the site trying to prove how tough you can be."
She opened her mouth in utter astonishment, then snapped it closed. "I don't stomp, and I don't have to prove anything to anyone. I'm doing the job I was trained to do."
"Then you do yours and I'll do mine."
"Fine. See you at sunup."
She started to spin toward the door, and he caught her by the arm. He didn't know what demon had prompted him to do it, to stop her when her angry exit would have been best for both of them. Now it was too late. The move was already made. Their faces were close, his hand was tight on her arm, and their bodies were turned toward each other. A half moon was rising. Outside the walls a woman's laugh ebbed and flowed as a couple strolled by beneath its light.
The friction had given birth to a spark-no, dozens of sparks, Cody thought as he felt them singe his skin. The heat from them was quick and dangerous, but still controllable. If he fanned them, they would flame. And then…
The hell with it, he thought as he closed his mouth over hers.
She was braced. She was ready. The desire and the intent had been plain to see as they'd stood there for that long, silent moment. Abra was honest enough to admit that the desire had been there all along. It had cut through her time and time again. So she was braced. She was ready.
It didn't do any good.
She should have been able to hold back her response, something she'd always been able to give or subdue as she chose. As she chose. It was frightening to learn in one split second that the choice wasn't always there. Response ripped out of her before a decision could be made and shattered her opinion of her own free will.
She was holding on to him without any recollection of having reached out. Her body was pressed hard against his without any memory of having moved at all. When her lips parted it was as much in demand as in invitation. His rough answer was exactly what she wanted.
He dragged her against him, amazed that need could rise from a simmer to a boil so quickly. Another surprise. What flared between them came as much from her as from him. She hadn't protested or struggled angrily away, but had met him force for force, passion for passion. With temper adding an edge to desire, he caught her hair in his hands and took as ruthlessly as his need demanded.
He nipped at her lip. Her low, throaty moan was as arousing as the play of her tongue over his. Now he gave himself freedom, letting his hands run over her, testing, tormenting, taking. Her body shuddered against his, then pressed closer. She didn't hold back, didn't seem to believe in it.
She should think, oh, she knew she should think. But it wasn't possible when her pulse was pounding in her head and her muscles were like water. How could She think when his taste was spreading through her, filling her?
He was as breathless as she when they drew apart. She was as willing as he when they came together for one last long, lingering kiss. When they parted again they stayed close, his hands on her shoulders, hers on his arms. Anger defused, passion ignited, leaving them both weak.
"What are we going to do about this?" Cody asked her.
She could only shake her head. It was too soon to think and too late not to.
"Why don't you sit down?"
She shook her head again before he could lead her to a chair. "No. No, I don't want to sit." It was harder than she'd thought it would be to step away from him. "I've got to go."
"Not quite yet." He needed a cigarette. He fumbled in the pockets of his robe and swore when he found his hands weren't steady. It amazed and infuriated him. "We have to resolve this, Abra."
She watched the match spark and flame, then drew a steadying breath. Flames could be lit, she reminded herself, and they could be put out just as
easily. "It shouldn't have happened."
"That's beside the point."
It hurt, more than a little, that he hadn't disagreed with her. But of course he couldn't, she told herself. She was right. "No, I think that is the point." In frustration she dragged both hands through her hair, and he remembered all too clearly what it had felt like tangled around his own hands. "It shouldn't have happened, but it did, and now it's over. I think we're both too sensible and too professional to let it get in the way of our working relationship."
"Do you?" He should have known she'd handle this the same way she would a fouled-up order for concrete. "Maybe you're right. Maybe. But you're an idiot if you think it won't happen again."
She had to be careful, very careful. It wasn't easy to speak calmly when her lips were still warm and swollen from his. "If it does, we'll simply have to deal with it-separately from business."
"We agree on something." Cody blew out a long stream of smoke. "What happened just now had nothing to do with business." Through the screen of smoke his eyes met hers and held them. "But that's not going to stop me from wanting you during working hours."
She felt a warning chill race up her spine. It made her straighten her shoulders. "Look, Cody, this is- was-a momentary thing. Maybe we were attracted, but-"
"Maybe?"
"All right, all right." She tried to find the right words. "I have to think of my future. We both know there's nothing more difficult, or awkward, than becoming involved with an associate."
"Life's rough," he murmured, and pitched his cigarette high over the wall. He watched the glow fly up and arc before he turned back to her. "Let's get something straight, Red. I kissed you and you kissed me right back. And it felt damn good. I'm going to want to kiss you again, and a lot more than that. What I'm not going to do is wait until it's convenient for you."
"You make all the decisions?" she snapped. "You make all the moves?"
He considered a moment. "Okay."
Fury didn't make her speechless. Taking a step forward, she poked a finger at his chest. "It's not okay, you arrogant pinhead. I kissed you back because I wanted to, because I liked it. If I kiss you again it'll be for the same reasons, not because you set the time and place. If I go to bed with you, the same rules hold. Got that straight?"
She was wonderful. Infuriating, but wonderful. He managed not to grab her. Instead, he grinned. When a woman called a spade a spade, you couldn't argue. "Straight as an arrow," he agreed. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Glad you liked it."
The sound that hissed out between her teeth was anything but pleased. His grin just widened. Rather than punch him in the face, she knocked his hand aside and turned for the door.
"Abra."
She yanked the door open and stood gripping the knob. "What?"
"Thanks for dinner."
The door slammed at her back, and then he did laugh. He waited ten seconds and heard the front door of the suite slam in turn. On impulse, he stripped off his robe and, turning on the timer for the spa, eased into the hot, bubbling water. He hoped it would soothe out the aches she'd left him with and clear his mind enough to let him think.
Chapter Four
Business. From now until the last tile was caulked Abra was determined to keep it strictly business between herself and Cody. Engineer to architect. They would discuss templates and curved headers, wiring and plastic pipe, concrete and thermal mass. Abra scowled at the bare bones of the health club. With luck, she thought, they would discuss nothing at all.
What had happened on that moonlit terrace was like temporary insanity. Inherited insanity, she decided as she dug her fists into her pockets. Obviously she was more like her mother than she had ever wanted to admit. An attractive man, a little Stardust and wham! She was ready and willing to make a fool of herself.
She took the clipboard the foreman handed her, scanned the papers, then initialed them. She'd come this far without letting any congenital weaknesses muck up her life. She intended to go a lot farther. Maybe she had inherited the flaw from her mother, but unlike the sweet, eternally optimistic Jessie she had no intention of going into a romantic spin and ending up flat on her face. That moment of weakness had passed, and now it was back to business as usual.
She spent the morning running back and forth between the health club and the main building, with an occasional foray to check on the excavation work for the cabanas. The work on each section of the project was overlapping according to plan, keeping her constantly in demand to oversee, answer questions, smooth out problems.
She had a long, technical phone conversation with the mechanical engineer Thornway had assigned. He was moving more slowly than she might have liked, but his work was first-class. She made a note to go by the offices and take a good look at the dies for both the elevator and the mechanized roof over the pool.
Those were aspects of her profession she enjoyed every bit as much as the planning and figuring, and they were aspects she took every bit as seriously. She wasn't an engineer who figured her job was over once the specs were approved and the calculations checked. She'd wanted a part in the Barlow project that didn't begin and end at the drawing board. It had been given to her, and if she still winced inwardly when a shovelful of dirt was removed from the site, she had the satisfaction of being a part of its reshaping.
No one she came in contact with would have seen beneath the competent exterior to her distracted thoughts. If she was constantly on the lookout for Cody, she told herself, it was only that she didn't care to be taken unaware. By noon she had decided he wasn't going to show. Disappointment masqueraded as relief.
She took her lunch break in the trailer with a bottle of chilled orange juice, a bag of chips and blueprints. Since her conversation with the mechanical engineer she had decided there were still a few problems to work out in the dynamics of the sliding glass roof Cody wanted over the pool. She crunched into a chip while she punched a new equation into her calculator. If it weren't for the waterfall the man insisted on having run down the wall and into the corner of the pool… Abra shook her head and tried a new angle. The man was a maniac about waterfalls, she thought. She took a long swig of juice. Basically he was just a maniac. It helped to think of him that way, as a crazy architect with delusions of grandeur, rather than as a man who could kiss the common sense right out of you.
She was going to give him his damn sliding glass arch of a roof, and his waterfalls, and his spirals and domes. Then she was going to use this foolish fancy of a design to launch her own career while he went back to his humidity and his orange groves.
Nearly satisfied, Abra sketched out a few details, then ran a new set of figures. It wasn't her job to approve, she reminded herself, it was her job to make it work. She was very good at making things work.
When the door opened, she didn't bother to glance up.
"Close that quick, will you? You'll let the heat in."
"Yes, ma'am."
The lazy drawl had her head jerking up. She straightened her shoulders automatically as Cody stooped to walk through the doorway. "I didn't think we'd see you here today."
He merely smiled and stood aside to make room for Tim Thornway and the bullet-shaped form of William Walton Barlow, Sr. Awkwardly, due to the row of cabinets over her head, Abra stood.
"Abra." Though he would have preferred to have found her knee-deep in concrete or up on the scaffolding, Tim was skilled enough to use almost any situation to his advantage. "As you can see, WW," he said, "our crew lives, sleeps and eats B and B's resort hotel. You remember Ms. Wilson, our chief structural engineer."
The little man with the thatch of white hair and the shrewd eyes held out a meaty hand. "Indeed, indeed. A Barlow never forgets a pretty face."
To her credit, Abra didn't wince, not even when Cody smirked over Barlow's head. "It's nice to see you again, Mr. Barlow."
"WW thought it was time he had a look at things," Tim explained. "Of course, we don't want to interrupt the flow or slac
ken the pace-"
"Don't know much about putting these places up," Barlow cut in. "Know about running them. Like what I see, though." He nodded three times. "Like the curves and arches. Classy. Barlow and Barlow stands for classy operations."
Abra ignored Cody's grin and scooted out from behind the table. "You picked a hot day to visit, Mr. Barlow. Can I get you something cold? Juice, tea?"
"Take a beer. Nothing washes away the dust like a cold beer."
Cody opened the scaled-down refrigerator himself and rooted some out. "We were about to show WW the progress on the health club."
"Oh?" Abra shook her head at the offer of a beer and was amused when Tim accepted a bottle gingerly. "Good timing. I've just been working out the final details on the pool roof. I think Lafferty and I smoothed out some of the bugs over the phone this morning."
Barlow glanced down at the blueprints and at the stacks of paper covered with figures and calculations. "I'll leave that to you. Only numbers I'm handy with are in an account book. Looks like you know your way around, though." He gestured with his bottle before taking three healthy gulps. "Thornway always said you had a head on your shoulders. Pretty shoulders, too." He winked at her.
Rather than getting her dander up, the wink made her grin. He was nearly old enough to be her grandfather and, multimillionaire or not, he had a certain rough charm. "Thank you. He always spoke highly of you."
"I miss him," Barlow said. Then he turned to the matter at hand. "Let's get on with this tour, Tim. No use wasting time."
"Of course." Tim set aside his untouched beer. "I'm giving a little dinner party for Mr. Barlow tonight. Seven. You'll escort Mr. Johnson, Abra."
Since it wasn't a question, Abra opened her mouth with the idea of making some excuse. Cody stepped smoothly in. "I'll pick up Ms. Wilson. Why don't you start over to the health club? We'll be right with you."
"Why don't you loosen that damn tie, Tim?" Barlow asked as they stepped out of the trailer. "Man could strangle in this heat."
