by Sara Orwig
“Thank you. I think so, too,” she replied coolly, thinking about Jared’s desire to buy her father’s company. “Dad loves the business, and he intends to keep running it as long as his health holds.”
“That’s great. So what’s happened in the years between?” he asked again as they strolled down a wide hall filled with statues and oil paintings in ornate frames. The mansion was beautiful, but silent and empty of life, reminding her of a museum.
“I graduated from college, did an internship at a museum and then was hired by a different museum. After a year I went to work with Dad, and last year he had a heart attack. He was told to sell the business, something he didn’t want to do in spite of your offer. So I took over the fieldwork and let Dad stay in the office.”
“Sorry to hear all that. Your dad is good at what he does. I liked working with him.”
“It’s mutual. And so far, it’s working out well,” she said, aware of Jared close beside her as they descended the wide front stairs to the main hall. “What have you done in the intervening years?”
“More of the same—what I was doing when we met. I have Weston Energy that I took over after my dad died and a few other smaller businesses that I’ve bought. Plus I follow my interests.”
“Sorry about you losing your dad. He would be very proud of you now, because Weston Energy has become a lot larger since you took over,” she said, knowing the company had been small all the years his dad had ran it, but when Jared had stepped in at his father’s death, it had grown swiftly into a huge conglomerate. “With your dad gone, that leaves you alone, doesn’t it?”
“I have three aunts. Mom died two years before Dad. She had a heart problem. Otherwise I’m it now.”
“So you inherited this mansion from the Delaney family.”
“Yes. My father and Argus Delaney started out together as roughnecks in the oil patch. Both were successful. Dad died before Argus, but Argus already had him in his will. He was always grateful to my dad. I heard Mr. Delaney tell the story a dozen times about how my father saved his life in a well fire. This mansion was to go to my dad, but since he is deceased, it’s mine now.”
“The whole place is filled with beautiful things, very old, I imagine some very rare,” she said, following the conversation but still more conscious of him beside her, close enough she could detect a hint of his aftershave. The work would be easy once he departed, but being near him was even more disturbing than she had thought it would be.
“I don’t want them all. Some I like and will keep. As for the others—I don’t know which are valuable and which are merely nice, but of little lasting worth. That’s partially why you’re here,” he said.
“Dad and I will inventory the contents. I’m taking pictures of everything for the catalog that will show what you want to sell. You’ll see it first, of course, and you can let me know what you want to keep.”
“I have a better idea,” he said, leading her to a terrace where he motioned her to an outdoor kitchen and dining area. “I’ll go around the place with you and we can talk about what I like, what’s extremely old and valuable, that sort of thing.”
“That may make this inventory process take longer,” she said, contemplating the hazards of working constantly with him.
One dark eyebrow arched. “You can’t do that?”
“Of course I can. I’m just telling you,” she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact despite her alarming pulse rate. The thought of having him beside her constantly for the next two weeks or more was way too appealing.
His gaze became intense. “You don’t want to work with me?”
“We can work together. I’m just telling you the job may take a little longer that way.”
“That’s all right. If I’m here to tell you what I like, we won’t have misunderstandings. Now we’ve got that settled, what would you like? Iced tea? Coffee? Soda pop?”
“Tea is fine,” she said, perching on a bar stool to watch him get two tall glasses of iced tea. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to keep this palatial mansion. Do the Delaney heirs mind that you inherited it?”
“I’m closest with Ryan Delaney, and he’s assured me that they don’t at all. They inherited enough themselves that they’re happy, and Ryan said none of them ever spent time at this place, so it holds no sentimental value for them. His dad got this mansion in a business deal. The previous owners settled a debt by deeding him this place. I’m the fortunate one,” he said, his thickly lashed green eyes making it difficult to pay attention to what he was telling her.
“There are some things I like, and some I’m uncertain about. I’ll show you pictures of my two houses, and you tell me what you think will fit in and look nice. Otherwise I want to sell the mansion and everything inside it. I’ve told the Delaneys to come get what they want first, but they’ve all indicated they’ll pass.”
“Then they really don’t want any of this,” she said.
“No, Ryan said they don’t. I plan to sell the furnishings and art separately from the mansion because I think you and your dad can get me a better deal.”
“I’m glad you made that decision,” she said lightly.
“I like some of the old furniture, like the beds in your room and mine.”
“I haven’t seen yours, but the one in my suite is solid oak and so well preserved. I’m guessing eighteenth-century France,” she said. “I’ve done most of the bedrooms, but I still have four to go.”
“I’ll show you mine anytime you want to see it,” he said with a faint smile.
“That’s an offer I’ll keep in mind,” she couldn’t resist answering, remembering what fun it was to flirt with him. “I’ll work downstairs for now,” she added, trying to get back to a professional level.
“Anytime. I’m always available.”
“I can imagine.” She suspected he did remember that night when she had been eighteen.
“Shall we?” He motioned toward an adjoining sunroom that overlooked the lit veranda and pool area. As she sat, he pulled his chair close to hers to sit beside her, getting out his phone. “Here is my Dallas home,” he said, leaning closer so she could view the picture on his cell phone with him.
“Your Dallas mansion looks as large as this place, if not larger,” she said, aware again of their shoulders and arms touching. She looked up to meet his gaze as he flipped to another picture.
“Might be. It’s what I like, so I don’t view it as huge. It’s more appealing to me than this place. This one has a cold, remote look to it.” He switched to the next picture. “Here are the rooms.”
She agreed about the cold appearance of the gray mansion, but she didn’t mention it. They went through some pictures of rooms in his Dallas home, and then he switched to pictures of a lavish ranch home in Wyoming.
“I think the best I can do for you is get everything inventoried and perhaps make some suggestions. I’m not an interior decorator, but I can try at least. I’ll need pictures of these rooms to study more thoroughly.”
“Sure. Now I’d like to go through the house with you and tell you which things I like and what I want to keep. Actually, what I’d really like to do—”
Smiling, she bent forward quickly to place her forefinger lightly on his lips to silence him. The instant she touched him, she removed her finger as a current sizzled to her toes. It had been a mistake to touch his mouth, but she couldn’t take it back.
“So would I, but it would be unprofessional and not the smart thing to do. Let’s stick to business,” she said breathlessly, lost again while looking into his eyes and besieged by memories.
Looking amused, he nodded. “Maybe I don’t have on my mind what you think I do,” he said.
“Maybe not, but just in case you do, prevention is better.”
He grinned. “We can have fun.”
“St
ick to business,” she said, wishing she could sound positive and forceful.
“You’re all grown up. No flirty college girl now.”
“I’m trying not to be,” she answered, thinking that was the last thing she needed, if she was to work with him the next several days. “So we’ll stick to getting items you want to sell separated from the ones you want to keep and get all the contents cataloged. We can start as soon as you want.”
“Start which?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
“C’mon, Jared. Let’s stick to business.”
“All right. I guess that’s the wisest course for both of us, but it’s definitely not the most exciting or the most fun.”
She couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed that he had stopped flirting with her. She wondered whether they would be together constantly. The whole prospect of this job had changed, turning everything topsy-turvy, with work becoming a secondary consideration.
“Perhaps we should start now,” she said, smiling at him and taking a long drink of tea. She set down the glass and stood. “I’ll work downstairs this afternoon,” she said, wanting to avoid the bedrooms anytime he was around.
“Sure.” He rose to walk with her. One of the front rooms was a library, where he stopped in front of the painting nearest the door. “Here’s something I want. I think this can go in the Wyoming ranch house.”
She looked at the oil painting of a mountain stream with horses nearby. “You’re not a contemporary fan. You like the traditional. That’s a marvelous painting,” she said, making more notes. While she placed a small sticker on the back of the painting, Jared strolled slowly around the room.
“I like that table,” he stated, pointing to a Queen Anne–style mahogany table.
“Again a good choice in my opinion, but I love the sort of art and furniture here,” she stated, making her notes and tagging the underside of the table.
He rolled back his sleeves, and they worked together. She took pictures and narrated descriptions, which Jared typed into her iPad. As they moved around, Jared told her what he wanted. When they finished the library, they moved to a study.
She lost consciousness of time, but never of him. She was too aware of his proximity, too filled with vivid memories that tormented her. He picked up a porcelain figurine of a hunter and dog. Turning it in his hand, he looked at it for seconds and then held it out to her. “Is this piece old? Valuable?” Her fingers brushed his as she accepted it, feeling the warmth of his hand yet the cool, smooth touch of the porcelain. The physical contact with him, while slight, stirred a shower of sparks. She remembered his hands, their texture, the calluses, their magic touches as they moved over her.
Jared worked through the rest of the afternoon with her, finding treasures, discarding things he didn’t care for. He kept everything as professional as possible, just the way she had asked.
Finally he glanced at his watch. “Enough for today. Let’s take a break, meet in thirty minutes in the family room for a drink and then we’ll have dinner.”
She was startled to see it was already six o’clock. “That’s fine.”
“I told my housekeeper to take you to your suite of rooms, and I hope you had a chance to get a little settled in.”
“Mrs. Tarkington did show me my rooms. I can settle in after dinner.”
He smiled. “I can help if you’d like.”
“Thanks. I’ll manage on my own.”
“Maybe after dinner we’ll sit and talk a little.”
“Perhaps,” she said, aware that socializing with him would be difficult to avoid.
“I’ll go change now, too. And show you where I’m staying.” He took her arm, another light touch that caused a deep reaction. Would these volatile reactions fade or grow more intense the longer they were together? She suspected the latter.
“Have you already sent the information you gathered today to your dad?”
“Yes, most of the information and pictures. Not all. I’ll go over the rest tonight after dinner.”
“You have a small desk in your suite, and you have Wi-Fi and a laptop if you should need one.”
“Thank you. I have my own,” she said, climbing the steep, straight staircase beside him. When she reached the suite she had been given, she turned and looked into his green eyes that continued to keep her pulse racing. His thick lashes made his eyes irresistibly seductive.
“My suite is next to yours, so I’ll be close should you need anything.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, turning to enter her suite.
“Meet you on the veranda,” he said before she closed the door.
Were they going to eat together often? For some reason she remembered him saying he wasn’t engaged. Or even verging on it. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered to herself. He still had the wild lifestyle he always had. She had heard her brother talk about the reckless things Jared liked to do—mountain climbing, skydiving, hang gliding. Unfortunately Jared made her heart pound and her breath catch, and no other man ever had.
She needed to finalize this inventory and get back home. Too much time with Jared was a temptation to danger.
Just seeing him brought back memories of their night together. A night that still stirred her desire and made him far too appealing. A night that remained vivid and held too many scalding memories. Jared was as sexy as ever. He didn’t flirt as much and neither did she, but she could feel the heat, the attraction, and she suspected he could, too.
Could she get through the next few days with him without a kiss? That might have to be her goal as much as cataloging the inventory. She wanted to get this job completed and return to her quiet world where there was no Jared Weston to tempt her. No matter how appealing and exciting Jared was, Allison didn’t want to get so deeply involved with him that she cared. With a man like Jared, life would be a continual roller coaster.
Hurrying to dress for dinner, she wore a short green cotton skirt, a matching cotton blouse and flat sandals. She twisted and braided her hair, fastening it on her head, hoping to look cool and remote, and to keep things that way between them through dinner.
When she stepped outside, Jared turned to greet her. Dressed casually now in chinos and a black knit shirt, he still took her breath away. The evening presented a challenge the minute she saw him.
As she approached him by the pool, he walked toward her, his look of approval warm while he smiled at her. “You look great.” When his gaze lingered on her mouth, her pulse drummed.
“Thank you. I brought my iPad and thought we might get one more room done after dinner tonight.”
His smile broadened. “Sure, if you’d like,” he said, taking the iPad from her to place it on a table. “In a hurry to get through and get away?” he asked, walking closer to her. “Scared of me? Or taking your brother’s warnings seriously now? Or something else?” he added, studying her.
“I’m trying to stick to business,” she answered, her heart racing beneath his piercing gaze. His green eyes ignited memories of his mouth on hers, his tongue, his taste. The hot need for more then, as now, became a temptation to reach for him. She was fighting memories of his kisses that still could make her tingle merely thinking about them.
“Ever hear of stopping work for the evening?”
“I think sticking to business is a far safer course to follow.”
“Safer than being with me? I’m dangerous?” he asked, his dark eyebrows raising slightly. “How am I a threat? Boyfriend at home? What about Phillip? Your brother said you’re almost engaged. Is your brother wringing his hands until you’re away from me? What is it?” Jared asked.
“No boyfriend,” she said, barely able to recognize her own voice that had become breathless. “Phillip and I are old and close friends, that’s all. And I don’t have to answer to Sloan. He’s got his family, and I’m
an adult now.”
“So what does that leave?” Jared prompted, his voice becoming deeper and his gaze intensifying, making her breathing difficult.
“That you’re an incredibly sexy, appealing man who might be a bit of a threat to my quiet life. You’re definitely not ready to settle down, whereas I have reached the point in my life where I’m more interested in long-term, serious relationships or none at all. Does that answer your question?” she asked, gazing up at him. Her heartbeat raced as she watched him. Her words should put up a wall between them, make him stop and think before he flirted or touched her.
“After that description, if you expect me to back off and become all business and purely professional—” He paused to shake his head and move still closer, resting one hand lightly on her shoulder, his fingers playing back and forth slowly on her nape, a sensitive, erotic part of her. “It isn’t going to happen,” he finished. She heard his words while his touch immobilized her. “Incredibly sexy,” he repeated in a hushed tone, leaning toward her. “I’m not going away when you tell me that’s how you see me.”
She placed her hand on his chest to stop him from coming any closer. Her heart pounded while she looked up at him and the tension between them heightened. As his gaze lowered to her mouth, it was impossible to draw in enough air to breathe. The urge to lean toward him strengthened, creating another inner battle.
“You may not be going away, but I’m not coming any closer in spite of my description. I’m here to do a job. I intend to do it and then go home and forget all about you again.”
A faint smile tugged up one corner of his mouth as he stepped close and slipped an arm around her waist. “I don’t think you’ve ever forgotten. Right now I think you recall that night as clearly as I do. I remember how soft you are,” he said in a voice that dropped and grew thicker. “I remember how passionate you can be—”
Her heart pounded while desire consumed her even as she placed her fingers on his mouth to stop him from talking. He kissed her fingers, his tongue touching them, and she yanked her hand away and wriggled out of his embrace.
