by Bella Andre
“I offered a bonus so the factory would work around the clock.” He said it matter-of-factly, as if it hadn’t cost a staggering amount.
All Will had to do was snap his fingers, and poof, there was a complex car frame sitting in his retrofitted barn. She knew he was rich, but this was the power to have anything he wanted. Anything at all.
And he’d said he wanted her.
A hot shiver shot through her body...along with a healthy dose of tension as she reminded herself that rich men played by their own rules.
By now, she knew that Will was nothing like the man who’d paid her parents to make his son’s car accident go away. But at the same time, no matter how nice Will seemed, she and Jeremy lived in a very different world. Harper wasn’t intimidated by much anymore, but she wasn’t going to lie and say that Will’s world of infinite luxury and power wasn’t overwhelming.
“It’s called a space frame,” Will told them. “Or a tube frame.” He trailed a finger down a metal pipe, and Harper felt it as though he’d run that finger down her arm.
“We’re going to attach the sheet metal and just about every single part somewhere on this frame.” He signaled Jeremy closer. Harper leaned in, too. “Each tube is for something specific.” He pointed. “This is where we’ll attach the firewall between the engine and the cockpit.” He patted the air over where she assumed the driver would sit. “Here is where we’ll put the floor panels.” His words drew a picture, and Harper could almost see the leather seats. “Those are the pieces we’ve got for the time being. The rest will be here next Friday.”
He wrapped his hand around Harper’s, and with her fingers engulfed in his, he took her back for the larger view. Jeremy followed suit. Together, the three of them stared at the hunk of metal.
Suddenly she saw it. “It’s like a bird cage surrounding the driver.” No wonder they called it the Birdcage Maserati.
“All we have to do is put her parts together, shape her, and bring her to life. With loving hands.”
Though they were talking about a car, with her hand in his and his heated gaze burning up every inch of her skin, Harper felt as though he was slowly bringing her to life, too...patiently working to uncover and unleash the sensual woman hidden inside of her with every word, every look, and every touch.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Will grabbed his camera off the workbench. “We need to document our work progress as we go along.” He snapped a couple of shots of the bare frame, then waved Harper into the picture.
“It should be Jeremy in the photo,” she protested, hanging back. “Not me.”
“Sorry, but he’s not the hot babe we need for our hot car shots.”
She glared at his teasing use of the term hot babe, and he wanted to kiss the disapproval right off her pretty lips.
Will took her hand again, her skin smooth and warm as he brought her over to the frame. Had she figured out that while he was teasing her, he was working himself up, too? He enjoyed her wide blue eyes, the puffs of breath that signaled her arousal—or anger—and the way she bit her lip without even being aware of it.
“We need you in the picture to show proportion,” he explained. “And you, too, Jeremy.”
Jeremy needed no further prodding to jump into the photo. Will didn’t always require human subjects, but he wanted them. This was a joint project. Plus, he had a major desire to see Harper on camera.
“Act like a model showing off the car,” he directed, watching her on the digital screen.
He thought she might be shy, but she surprised him by throwing her hands out, cocking her hip, and pointing one toe on the concrete in a ballet pose. Her hair swirled around her shoulders, and her pink lipstick glistened. An ache grew low in his gut, and he swallowed hard.
Watching her was addictive.
Beside her, Jeremy was a surprising ham, striking one ridiculous pose after another, and Will wondered when the last time had been that he’d had fun like this.
Finally, Harper stepped out of the camera frame and held out her palm. “Okay, give it to me. We need some of you and Jeremy, since you two are building this thing.”
He relinquished the camera, but not before making sure his hand lingered on hers. She met his gaze, pursed her lips, and shook her head. “Stop being bad.”
“You have no idea how bad I can be,” he said in a soft voice. And he couldn’t wait to show her.
He caught the way her eyes flared with heat right before she rolled them, and then she gestured for him to move toward Jeremy and the metal frame. He’d raised it off the floor with four jack stands, to which he’d added small pieces of cloth so they didn’t scratch the frame’s paint. He’d enjoyed their reaction. When the crate arrived yesterday, he’d considered the best presentation. In the end, he’d uncrated it, used the suspension crane to place it on the jack stands, and covered it with the tarp so he could whisk it aside to reveal the masterpiece. The effect was perfect. Even Harper had been impressed.
He put his arm around the boy, and felt damn near fatherly, something he’d never even thought of before.
After Harper took a dozen or so shots, Jeremy said, “Now we need you and Harper.” He obviously didn’t want to be left out of the picture-taking.
“You two don’t need me in more pictures,” Harper objected again.
“Come on, Harper,” Jeremy begged.
Of course she gave in to her brother, pointing to the button he should push to take the photo. And of course Will wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to pull her in front of him and set his hands on her hips until she was nestled back against him.
The scent of her hair tantalized him. The heat of her body against his started the mercury rising in his thermometer. She was just the right height, and he was in just the right position, to snake an arm around her stomach and pull her tight against him.
She tipped her head back to whisper, “What are you doing?”
“Taking advantage of a perfect opportunity to hold you close.”
Meanwhile, Jeremy had his tongue stuck between his teeth and was busy centering the camera, moving a step one way, then the other, angling, holding his arms straight out, then pulling them in slowly. Will didn’t think he’d even pushed the button yet.
His heart was beating hard. Could she sense the faster rhythm between her shoulder blades? Did she know the effect she had on him? Holding her in his arms was so damn good that he closed his eyes, breathed her in, and let his fantasies spin out...until a voice blew his fantasies to hell.
“If I’d known you were doing a photo shoot, I’d have brought Whitney.” Evan Collins stood in the open barn door.
Harper immediately jumped away from Will, and Jeremy started, fumbling the camera. Will saw it tumble to the floor, with no way to reach out before it landed with a crack.
For one long moment, everyone stared. Then Jeremy began to splutter. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, Will. Please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to.” The boy’s face had crumpled, and his eyes were tearing up.
Harper leaped to him, bending to retrieve the camera. “It wasn’t your fault, Jeremy. I should have put the strap over your head.” She looked at the crack in the view screen and grimaced at Will. “We’ll replace it.”
“It’s just a cheap model,” Will said as he crossed to her side. An image of his shoes filled the viewfinder, and the crack was a short diagonal line across the upper right corner.
“Don’t make me go home, Will. I’m sorry. I won’t touch anything else. Promise.” Jeremy crossed his heart.
Will put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and made sure he was looking straight into his eyes as he said, “It’s okay, Jeremy. It was an accident.”
A tear slid down Jeremy’s cheek, and Will felt a rip in his heart. How many times had the kid been punished for accidents that weren’t his fault? Never by Harper, he knew, but it was a cruel world out there, with little tolerance for people who didn’t measure up. And Will should know, since he hadn’t always been t
olerant, hadn’t always been kind. And others had paid the price.
Will took the camera, switched it to display mode, then clicked on the last photo to show it to Jeremy and Harper. Her brother had captured a shot with Will’s arm locked across Harper’s waist, her hand over his as if she were holding him there. It hinted at an intimacy he craved to make real.
But this moment was about Jeremy, so Will told him, “See, it still works.”
Beside him, Harper sighed with relief. He gave her the camera as Jeremy whispered, “You’re not mad?”
“Of course I’m not mad. We’re buddies. Buddies don’t get mad at stupid stuff.” Which brought him back to Evan, who was still standing in the open barn door. “You certainly know how to make an entrance.”
His friend raised his palms in surrender, a manila envelope in his right hand. “I didn’t mean to surprise everyone.”
They’d been friends since the sixth grade, when they’d first become the Mavericks. Evan had been a fifth grader, along with Matt, while Sebastian, Daniel, and Will were a year older. Evan’s brains were huge, and as a kid, people had called him a nerd. Though with his broad, muscular frame, he now looked more like a professional athlete rather than the financial wizard behind the Mavericks.
Evan gave Jeremy a lopsided grin. “Sorry I scared you. I’m Evan Collins.”
“Hi.” Jeremy’s voice was overly loud in the barn. “I’m Jeremy.”
Evan switched the envelope to his left hand and shook Jeremy’s. Then he swiveled his gaze to Harper, clear male appreciation lighting his eyes. “And you are?”
“Harper Newman.” She put her hand out, too, and shook his. “Jeremy’s my brother.”
Will didn’t like seeing Evan’s hand curve around Harper’s. Not because he thought Evan was going to try to swoop in and claim her, given that his friend had a wife to whom he was one hundred percent faithful. No, it was simply that Will wasn’t ready to share Harper yet, not even with his friends, who would be full of raised eyebrows and silent questions, just like Evan was right now.
What’s more, he didn’t want any of them to remind him that he had no business romancing a nice girl like her. Not when he was already well aware of that fact. And not when he’d already spent sleepless nights torn between wanting to do the right thing...and just plain wanting her.
“Nice meeting both of you,” Evan said, his voice low and powerful, a Maverick through and through.
“What do you need?” Will knew he was being abrupt, but his friend had just caused Harper to jump out of his arms, and he hadn’t yet forgiven Evan for it.
“I brought the Link contract for your signature.”
While each of the Mavericks had their own enterprises, they often entered joint ventures. This new agreement would fund Link Labs, a startup for a state-of-the-art, and affordable, personal robot. Matt, being the robotics guy in their group, saw huge potential in the field, and they’d all bought into it.
“Thanks, but you didn’t need to bring it by personally.”
Evan shrugged. “I felt like a drive.”
Figuring there was trouble in paradise, but that his friend wouldn’t want to talk about it around Harper and Jeremy, Will headed to the workbench and pulled out the document to scan it quickly before initialing the changes. He knew Evan was meticulous and didn’t make mistakes. Not with business matters, anyway.
“So what’s going on here?” Evan gestured toward the frame.
“Will and I are building a Birdcage Maserati.” Jeremy skittered across the floor to the front end, his enthusiasm back, the incident with the camera thankfully forgotten. “It was my idea, and Will agreed.”
“And you’re supervising?” Evan asked Harper.
Obviously catching the way his friend’s eyes moved between her and Will, her mouth tightened slightly. She put her arm around Jeremy, who quickly squirmed away as if it was too childish. “Jeremy recently wrote Mr. Franconi asking if he could see the car collection.”
Mr. Franconi? What was up with that?
“And Mr. Franconi was gracious enough to invite us to participate in his car project.”
If she said Mr. a third time, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. She was obviously trying to act like the only thing between them was a business arrangement. Anything but a relationship. But as much as he didn’t want Evan’s questions right now—and as much as he was trying to be careful not to push her too fast—Will sure as hell wasn’t going back to being Mr. Franconi.
He scrawled his signature and shoved the agreement back into the envelope, then stalked the few paces to Harper’s side, where he draped his arm across her shoulders and pulled her into him.
“Here you go.” He handed the envelope to Evan with one hand and played with the ends of Harper’s hair with the other. “We’re going to start punching holes in the sheet metal. Want to help?”
He was sure Evan would rather watch the endless loop of a ticker tape. Cars didn’t interest his friend. Evan drove a luxury vehicle for the roominess and the comfort—and because Whitney liked to travel in style—but otherwise, he couldn’t care less.
True to form, he said, “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got to drop in on Sebastian for the last signature. Nice to meet both of you. I hope I’ll see you again.”
“’Bye, Evan.” Jeremy waved big, his whole body getting into the action.
Just as Evan was engulfed by the bright sunshine, Harper elbowed Will in the ribs. Oh yeah, there’d be hell to pay for his little stunt.
But as long as it was Harper dishing it out, he’d look forward to every second.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
What was that about?
Harper glared at Will. He’d deliberately made it appear as though they were a lot more than acquaintances in front of his friend and fellow Maverick. Evan was a very good-looking man, but even so, Harper thought he didn’t hold a candle to Will.
“I think you’d better start punching your holes,” she said flatly. Or she might punch him.
He was barely stifling a grin and she knew for sure that he’d been showing off to his friend. Or staking a claim. And she’d felt…
“All right, Jeremy, time to get started.” Will reached into a large wooden crate set against the wall. “We’ll work on the firewall first. That’s the panel protecting the cockpit.”
“I remember, Will.” Jeremy followed him back to the workbench, where the long piece of metal was laid out, its top curved.
What had she felt?
Harper thought of Will’s teasing and the feel of his body against her back. Every hard inch of it. His nearness had turned her insides to liquid. The final photo Jeremy snapped had exposed a woman flushed with desire. She’d looked—and felt—wanton. Sexual. Wild. And very willing. Way too willing, especially since she hadn’t even decided yet whether to let him make good on any of his wicked intentions.
The possessive arm Will had put around her after he’d signed the contract had clearly stated that he knew how tempted she was. And he’d had no qualms about letting his friend know it, too—as if she were some sort of conquest.
God. She must seem so easy to him. To both of them. Take her to dinner, flash around a little money, throw out a few sexy caresses—and she was about to cave.
“This is a fan spacer.” Will laid the accordion-style metal tool against the edge of a ruler he’d placed along the sheet’s edge. “We use it to make sure the rivet holes are equally spaced.” He fanned the spacer, a series of crisscrossed metal strips that could be adjusted, with a small hole at the end of each piece. As Will pulled, the spacers widened. “That measures one inch. Now we use a spring-loaded punch to mark where we’re going to drill. Like this.” Jeremy craned to watch as Will punched a small, sharp tool through each of the equidistant spacers.
Still fuming, Harper clicked off a shot of the work in progress as Jeremy happily wrote it down in his journal. Even though her brother was with them, she pulled a stool away from the wall near the workbench,
and asked, “Did your friend Evan get whatever message you were trying to send him?” Fortunately, Jeremy was too interested in what he was doing to pay attention.
Will looked up at her, his eyes far more guileless than they deserved to be. She and Will had seen each other only a handful of times, yet she already knew that look. His lips curved up slightly, and he had a knowing spark in his eye.
“What message was that?” Before she could answer, he handed Jeremy the sharp tool, which resembled a skinny screwdriver. “You try now.”
Jeremy bit his lip, concentrating hard as he took over the task. “Yeah, just like that, you’ve got it,” Will praised him. “All we’re doing right now is marking with a little hole. Then we’ll drill.”
She took another picture, determined not to let Will off the hook just because he was so sweet with her brother. “When you put your arm around me and started playing with my hair.”
Will didn’t look at all apologetic as he said, “He wasn’t the one I was trying to send a message to.”
His bold words—words that all but screamed how much he wanted her—shouldn’t have sent heat rushing through her. But they did. Crazy heat. Just the way all of his bold intentions had in her kitchen.
She could feel herself flushing as Will focused on the car again and said to her brother, “We’re going to move the spacer along now and make our marks all the way to the end.”
A short while later, Jeremy held the press tool high in the air like an athlete who’d just run a marathon, and said, “I’m done.”
Will inspected the work. “A perfect job. I couldn’t have done better myself.”
Jeremy did a happy dance and emotion blossomed in her heart. No matter how conflicted Will might make her feel, he was good for Jeremy.
Her brother suddenly said, “I gotta pee.”
“Down there.” Will hooked a thumb past a long row of shelves and cupboards, and Jeremy raced to the bathroom as if he’d suddenly realized he might not make it in time.
