“Oh, that poor thing! That explains so much.” Following a thoughtful stare, Shelly’s head tilted at a determined angle. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
She glared at him. “Do you really think that a man obsessed enough to stalk a woman—a man so scary that round-the-clock security is necessary—would hesitate to hurt the object of his obsession’s lover?”
“Shelly, it’s none of your business what Kyle does with his love life.” Henry griped from behind his paper.
Shelly pointed a finger at her husband who fell silent.
Kyle managed to close his hanging jaw. “I’m not—”
“Well, if you’re not yet, then you will be soon enough,” Shelly said. “I’ve noticed the way you two are carrying on. Don’t look so surprised, Kyle. I’m old, not stupid!”
His lips twisted into a reluctant grin. “Tell you what, I’ll run with Kieran from now on, at least until this is over. Satisfied?”
Shelly grunted and stood. “I’ll be happy when I have a houseful of youngsters underfoot, hanging off my apron strings and begging for treats. This house has eight bedrooms, including a nursery, most of ‘em empty. It would break your poor mother’s heart if she knew that neither of you boys had married or had a family.”
“I’m not dead yet.” Kyle rolled his eyes. Henry cast him a sympathetic look, commiserating over the shared misery of beleaguered and hen-pecked men everywhere.
“Well, I don’t have many years left to me,” Shelly said with a practiced teary delivery. She sniffed and her eyes grew bright.
Her heartfelt lament fell on deaf ears; he had heard it all many times before. “If we’re done, I’m going to go shower now.”
“Almost. I have some papers for you to sign.” Shelly sprang to her feet and rushed to the antique white secretary desk situated in the hallway across from the kitchen. She snatched up a sheath of papers and waved it at him.
“What’s this?” With reservations, Kyle accepted the paperwork thrust at him. He put his right hand out, and she slapped a pen into his palm. Perplexed, he scanned the first page, and then flipped it to study the application underneath that had already been filled out in Shelly’s neat print.
“What is the Big Time Nanny Agency?” He went from perplexed to incredulous in zero to five seconds. He couldn’t believe his eyes.
Shelly posed with her hands on her hips. “Kyle Colin McCleod, I want you to listen to me before you say no.” Her finger set to wagging with the energy of a happy dog’s tail. “Big Time Nanny is the most exclusive agency in the country. Their wait list is over three years long. If you don’t put down a deposit now, it will be too late when the little ones arrive.”
His world lurched and slid sideways. He knew a sunken ship when he saw one. He dragged a hand over his lower face, stroking his jaw, and tried to figure a way out of this predicament. But like an unstoppable force of nature, Shelly kept going, listing every conceivable reason under the sun for acquiring a nanny. She assaulted him with facts and figures regarding the difficulty of child rearing in families with two working parents. She cited test scores and IQ studies and showed no signs of guilt or remorse or of slowing down.
“Fine, fine, you win.” Kyle threw up his hands and leaned over the kitchen table to scrawl his signature on the line highlighted in yellow. He returned the signed application to her grabby hands. Thankfully, Shelly’s monologue had ended and blessed silence descended.
“You’re a smart man. Now, I have signature authority on household accounts, so don’t you worry about the deposit. I’ll see it gets taken care of.” Wearing a smirk, she clutched the application to her chest and whisked her trophy away before he could change his mind.
He turned to leave and ran straight into his brother. Kieran lounged against the entryway arch, arms crossed, filling the entire opening. His eyes held a wicked gleam.
“So,” Kieran said, “I see congratulations are in order. Have you two set a date?”
“I’ll let you know.” Kyle sucker punched his twin in the gut, a blow Kieran didn’t seem to notice because he was laughing too hard.
****
Following his shower, Kyle tracked Cassie to his office where he found her curled up on the leather couch with a book. She wore her burgundy hair in a ponytail and looked delectable with her light tan and freckled skin. His cock got hard just looking at her. He longed to kiss every single spot, to taste her with his tongue, to take off her shirt and explore the freckle trail dipping into her cleavage.
She glanced up as he entered and flashed him a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi there.” Gorgeous. He left off the endearment. They had grown comfortable with one another, and he took care not to do anything to endanger that.
Cassie closed her book. “What are we working on today?”
“I’d like to take you to meet Delores Lassant. She called yesterday, asking when she’d get to meet you in person.”
Her expression lit with pleasure. “Finally? I’ve been dying to meet the client. I can’t wait to show her my portfolio!”
“Would this afternoon be too soon?”
Brief worry flickered across Cassie’s expressive features. She hesitated and then agreed. “Today is fine. I’m just nervous.”
“There’s no reason to be. Delores already loves what she’s seen of your work.”
She flushed with pleasure. “I hope so. When do I get to see your blueprints for the new building?”
“Soon. I’m still making a few minor revisions and tweaking the final drafts.”
Cassie smiled at him in a way that told him she saw straight through his perfectionist ways. “They’ll be brilliant. Just like you.”
Damn. He lost himself in her amazing emerald eyes and, for the first time in his adult life, he couldn’t think of a single good reason for remaining a bachelor. Maybe, he thought, Shelly saw the rightness of it, of them, after all.
****
“How are you going to explain our chaperon to your client?” Cassie cast a glance back at the black SUV tailing Kyle’s convertible. Tinted windows concealed the two men inside, but she knew they were armed and dangerous. The bodyguards had been her unobtrusive escort every time she’d left the McCleod property. It was getting so that she no longer considered it strange to have a security detail.
“I’ll tell them to wait with the cars.” Kyle parked in the driveway of the Carmel mansion, and they exited the car.
“Your brother has some pretty dangerous looking friends. Not to mention his access to police files. Is he a G-man?”
“What?” Kyle swung to face her.
“You know, a Fed. A spook. A government agent.”
He laughed but didn’t answer her question, which went a long way toward confirming her suspicions. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I thought as much.”
“Do you have your portfolio, Red?” He held up the electronic key and awaited her reply before arming the security system.
“Right here.” She patted the file to confirm she hadn’t left it in the vehicle. Then she waited while Kyle walked over to speak with their escort. Abuzz with nervous energy, she rifled through her folder, straightening the drawings she had prepared for Delores Lassant, Kyle’s client for the architectural project.
He returned quickly. “Ready?”
“Yes, I hope Mrs. Lassant likes my drawings. I usually have more than a couple weeks to work up a sample.”
“Stop worrying. She’s going to love them.” Kyle settled a hand against the small of her back, and she drew strength from the supportive gesture. His touch felt natural. It amazed her how far they had come in such a short period of time.
She followed him through a gate and around the side of the mansion. She craned her head to take in all of their surroundings. “Wow, this is beautiful.”
“Yes, it is.”
The garden was an explosion of color and life. Song birds flew through and roosted on trees and vine-wrapped trellises. Bees an
d butterflies flitted from flower to flower. A variety of blossoms filled the air with their sweet-scented perfume, and a hummingbird strafed them with a high-pitched hum emanating from its blurred wings.
He closed the gate behind them and led the way. Cassie regarded the landscaping around the mansion with mixed awe and envy. Oh, what she would give to own such luxury.
From across the yard, a woman crouched behind a patch of golden Gerber daisies caught Cassie’s attention. She directed Kyle’s attention to the gardener. “Is that Mrs. Lassant?”
A smile lit the man’s face, one of pure pleasure, the sort of honest affection that pretense could not manufacture. “That would be Mrs. Lassant.”
The woman looked up as they approached, and then stood to offer a greeting. “Good morning!”
Delores Lassant could not have been a day younger than eighty. She was quick and slender with teeth as white as the hair tucked beneath a bright yellow knit cap. She wore brown coveralls over a long-sleeve cotton shirt and a pair of purple gardening gloves.
“Good morning, Delores.” Kyle settled a possessive hand upon Cassie’s elbow, a gesture that sent a shiver of pleasure along her spine. “This is my illustrator, Cassandra Claeys.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Lassant.” Cassie offered her hand.
The older woman removed her gloves before offering her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you also. Please, call me Delores.”
“And call me Cassie.”
Delores’s expression took on the distinct look of admiration. “My, what glorious hair. What I wouldn’t give to have hair like yours.”
“Thank you.” She blushed and ducked her face.
“How have you been, Delores?” Kyle asked with easy familiarity.
“Well enough, Kyle, thank you. How are Shelly and Henry and Kieran?”
“They’re well, thank you. We brought the site sketches for your approval. These are more refined than the initial batch I sent over.”
“Excellent. Let’s go inside so I can wash my hands.” The older woman led them inside the Tudor-style building painted white with a black tile roof. The many windows were high and wide, allowing a great deal of natural light to splash off the vaulted ceilings. Overall, the entire interior resembled an expensive hotel. The floors were marble and hardwood, the furnishings antiques, the art tasteful and impersonal. The mansion felt elegant, grand, and lonely.
“Your home is lovely.” Cassie sensed there was far more of Delores Lassant reflected in the garden than within the house.
“Thank you,” Delores said with a faint smile, lips pressed together to conceal her sadness. “The house belonged to my late husband, John. It was his pride and joy. Appearances were everything to John; the more extravagant, the better. We married late in life and, unfortunately, we were not blessed with children.”
“I’m sorry.” She swallowed against the lump in her throat. She looked away from Delores and caught Kyle staring at her in a way that made her breath catch. She averted her eyes, determined not to hope for too much. He drove an expensive, high performance convertible—the unmistakable car of a bachelor. He dressed like a bachelor, acted like a bachelor, and had reached the ripe old age of thirty-three without marrying.
“Please don’t be sorry. My sister’s children and grandchildren have been a great joy to me,” Delores said. They reached the kitchen, and the older woman washed her hands while Kyle and Cassandra took seats at the table.
“These drawings are of the old cannery on the property.” Cassie laid her portfolio on the tabletop.
“That cannery was the source of my husband’s fortune,” Delores said. “We made our money on sardines and anchovies. Until the great schools of fish were depleted, and then the business went bust.”
“So the cannery and land have been in your family for a long time?” She opened her portfolio and removed the drawings, spreading them out for inspection.
“Many years.”
“I haven’t been allowed to see the blueprints for the new building yet.” Cassie shot a pointed glance in Kyle’s direction.
“I’ll show you tonight.” His chuckle moved through her body, caressing every fiber of her being.
Delores laughed. “Kyle tends to be the secretive one, he does. Now, let’s see what you have.”
“These are preliminary.” She fidgeted with nervous energy.
Delores leaned over to view the drawings better. “Oh my, but these are gorgeous! You possess a remarkable talent, Cassandra.”
“Thank you.” She flushed with pleasure. Although an accomplished artist, she had never grown accustomed to such profuse praise. Across from her, Kyle couldn’t have looked prouder.
With thin but steady hands, Delores reached for one in particular, grasping the edges to lift it from the top. The drawing depicted the broken concrete pillars of the old pier, foamy surf atop blue-gray water swirling about the obstructions in the relentless march of the incoming tide.
“I’ve tried to capture the way the cannery has become a part of the land as it decayed,” Cassie said, speaking fast in her excitement.
“Part of the land, yes.” Delores’s expression grew dreamy as she stared through the drawing in her hands, peering into the world within her mind.
“Part of the land is what I want my new building to become,” Delores continued. “I envision an oceanic research facility integrated with the land. It will draw all of its energy from the natural power of the waves, the wind, and the sun. It will be my legacy.”
“Wow.” She was impressed and surprised in turn and looked to Kyle. “Those blueprints must be something else.”
His grin widened, smug even, but he made no other reply. Delores made a sound of confirmation. “Goodness, you can only imagine. The man is a genius.”
“And modest, to boot.” Cassie couldn’t keep a straight face. She poked Kyle in the ribs, taking affectionate aim at the insufferable male in question. His tawny brown eyes gleamed with pleasure and pride, and he grinned at her.
“Are you happy with the drawings?” Defending against another incoming poke, Kyle captured Cassie’s fingers in a tender grip.
Delores cast one final look at the drawing in her hands as her face lit with joy. “Oh, you betcha, I’m happy!”
Chapter Nine
“I liked Mrs. Lassant.” Cassie stood with folded arms as she watched Kyle in action. He moved about his office with relentless energy, clearing his work area. Nothing he did frightened her. Not sudden movements or expressions of anger. She marveled at how comfortable they had grown together in such a short time.
“Delores is easy to love.” He retrieved a roll of blue prints from the locked drawer of a filing cabinet. “She’s a good person.”
She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Are those the vaunted blueprints?”
His laughter came without effort, so free that she envied him. “Do I lose coolness points if I admit to being nervous about showing you these?”
“Is that why they’re still under lock and key? I was beginning to worry that you didn’t want me to see them.”
Kyle shot her a quick look, his expression full of complicated emotions that were gone before she managed to decipher them. “More like the opposite.”
The intimacy between them was so intimidating that she didn’t know how to handle it. Swallowing hard, Cassie turned to gaze out one of the office’s clear glass walls, staring out over the coastal treetops all of the way to the ocean. Kyle had a long black leather loveseat which faced those glass walls—a couch for watching nature. She loved this one little thing about him to the point that her heart ached, ready to burst with it.
She felt as if an invisible hourglass ticked off the minutes of their time together. It was passing so fast. Before long, the job would be done and it would be time for her to go home. “All I can say is—after all this buildup—these had better be worth the wait,” she said, hiding her real feelings behind teasing sarcasm.
“That will be
for you to decide.” Kyle finished pinning up the blueprints and backed away so that she had an unobstructed view of the board, permitting her first real look at his architectural plans for the new marine research facility.
Cassie stirred as he came to stand beside her, experiencing a fissure of anticipation and awareness that had nothing to do with his blueprints and everything to do with his physical presence. He wore a long-sleeve shirt the same color as his eyes and a pair of tight, tight jeans that molded to his ass and legs. His large feet were encased in white and blue running shoes.
The tip of his shoe nudged her sneaker. Her gaze reversed its path, traversing his calves, thighs, and crotch. She lingered on the bulge there, thinking naughty thoughts. How surprised would he be if she popped the button-fly open and eased her fingers through the slit in his boxers to cradle the fullness of his balls in her palm, to stroke his proud length with her hands. With a huff, Cassie yanked her gaze back to his face. The knowing glint in his eyes made her smile. They hadn’t yet consummated their relationship, but their sensual explorations had left them familiar with one another’s desires.
She returned her attention to the blueprints. White lines on a blue background…It took her a moment to process the plans but, within her mind’s eyes, the lines became the structure and the space assumed dimensions. She started to form an image of the building.
“The blueprints are really the guts and the bones of the building,” Kyle said. “I have a computer program that renders it in three dimensions. Come over here.”
She followed him to his laptop and watched while he launched the program. Once he had it running, her jaw dropped. “I expected you to use a postmodern style,” she said, leaning forward to stare at the screen with intensity. “I mean, there’s so much green energy technology being utilized.”
“Postmodern would have been safe.” The careful quality of his tone—composed and neutral—revealed a lot. Cassie cast a sharp glance toward Kyle. She sensed he wanted her approval, but he was unwilling to sell out his vision to win her over.
Learning To Fly Page 11
