“Now about this second floor.”
Rose stared at the plans. There were three bedrooms and two baths. One of the bedrooms was larger than the other—obviously the old master suite.
She looked at him. “Why do the rooms seem smaller upstairs?”
“Because of the balcony.” He showed her the front elevation again and pointed out the balcony encircling the entire second floor. “It looks terrific from the outside, but it eats up square footage.” He hesitated, not sure he should butt in, but she had agreed to look at his plans. “There is a solution. The attic.”
Rose glanced back at the front elevation, then ran her finger along the windows on the third floor. “What’s there now?”
“Nothing. But it’s plenty big.” He flipped through pages and set the one he wanted on top. “I had this drawn up about four years ago.”
“Why?”
It took him a second to figure out what she meant. Why did he have plans for a house he’d never owned? “At one time I thought of buying this place, but it didn’t work out.
“Any regrets…about not owning the house?”
“Not even one,” he said honestly. He and Josie would have killed each other during the remodeling. “This design turns the third floor into a master suite with a sitting area and another smaller bedroom.” He shrugged. “It could be used for an office or a nursery for the baby’s first couple of years. Until he was old enough to go to the second floor.”
Rose nodded. “It could be a girl.”
“Excuse me?”
“You said until ‘he’ was old enough to go to the second floor. I’m assuming a female child would get the same treatment. Or would you make her sleep out back with the dog?”
“No. Of course not. Any child. Or you could use the room for something else.”
“No. I like the idea of a baby.”
She looked at him as she spoke, her expression serious. But he saw the humor twinkling in her deep blue eyes. She liked the idea of a baby. Josie never had. They’d fought about that the last time they’d come to see this old house. He’d wanted to turn the third floor into the master suite. She’d wanted to use it as an exercise room. Kids hadn’t been a part of her plan. They’d—
He rose to his feet so quickly, the chair tipped back and slammed into the floor. Del barely noticed. He rubbed his forehead, as if he could erase thought of his ex-wife from his mind. Why was he thinking about her so much? Damn. She’d been gone nearly three years, and he was happier without her. He wouldn’t want her back on a bet. So why was she suddenly haunting him?
“Are you all right?”
He turned and saw Rose had pushed herself to her feet. She leaned on her cane. Concern pulled at the corners of her mouth. She looked like an angel standing there. Blond and beautiful. He supposed with her having a cane, some people might think she was also broken, but not him. She looked delightfully approachable and human. He’d had physical perfection once and it came at too high a price.
“I’m fine,” he told her, forcing all thoughts of Josie out of his brain. He swore he wouldn’t think about her again. His ex was gone and Rose was right here—apparently single. A good-looking, personable woman who liked old houses and wanted kids. Talk about perfect.
“Let me show you the kitchen,” he said, crossing to the open area that housed painted cabinets and av-cado-colored appliances. “We’d rip out everything and start from the bare walls.”
He moved as he spoke, using his arms and hands to paint word pictures of wood cabinets, a double oven with a microwave and a center island cooktop. There was room for a pantry and even a desk work area.
“I like the window,” she said, moving over to stand next to him. The greenhouse window had been added somewhere along the way, but it suited the graciousness of the house. “I’d like to grow fresh herbs and pretty flowers. I adore flowers.”
He pictured her standing in a field full of wildflowers, which was crazy. Equally insane was the heat he felt in his blood. Blood that was thickening and moving distinctly south. If he didn’t watch it, he was going to end up with a physical manifestation of his wayward thoughts. Not the polite thing when bidding on a remodeling job.
“The bathrooms upstairs will have to be redone, too, won’t they?” she asked.
“They’re about as ugly as the kitchen. The guest bath has dark and light pink tile.”
She laughed. “Sounds attractive but not worth climbing a flight of stairs to see.” She moved back to the table and touched the design for the third-floor master suite. “I want you to do this for me. All of it.”
He stared at her. Just like that? “Don’t you want an estimate?”
She tilted her head in a way that was so familiar, he had to take a step away from her. What was going on? He had the oddest sensation of being caught in both past and present.
“I heard you were honest, Del. Isn’t that true?”
“Sure, but you don’t want to take my word for it.”
“Why not? I’ve heard you’re good and that your prices are fair. So you’re the one that I want. When can your crew start?”
He did some quick calculations. “I had a big job postponed, so next Monday. Does that work for you?”
“Absolutely. However I do have a request.”
“Name it.”
“I’d like the guest bath and one of the guest bedrooms to be done first and finished as quickly as possible. I’m living in a hotel and I don’t want to stay there any longer than necessary. I’d prefer to be settled. If I won’t be in the way, then the remodeling won’t bother me at all.”
Involuntarily his gaze drifted to her legs, hidden by the skirt of her dress. She hadn’t wanted to climb the stairs today. Would next week be any different? But he didn’t ask. Because it wasn’t his business and he didn’t want to embarrass her.
“I could have those two rooms ready by the end of the week. I’ll put standard cabinets in the bathroom for now and replace them with custom later, when the third floor is done.”
“Good idea. Escrow will close in ten days. I have their permission to go ahead with the remodeling, probably because I’m paying cash for the house and they already have all my money.”
She smiled as she spoke. A feminine smile that hinted at a shared joke. He felt as if he’d taken an unexpected hit to the gut. All his air rushed out, but that was the least of it. Even more powerful than the need to breathe was the need to haul her close and kiss her. He knew if he didn’t taste her mouth and feel her curvy body against his he would just up and die. Simple as that.
The urge, the desire that had plagued him since he’d arrived a half hour before, bothered him. Women were a welcome part of his life, but they didn’t usually take over. He wanted to ask Rose to tell him every detail of her past. He wanted to find any other man who had dared to touch her and beat the crap out of him. He wanted—
He was crazy, he told himself. She was a client. They weren’t going to have a close and personal relationship. Besides, he’d already had one based on mutual physical attraction. That had gotten him married and then divorced. He didn’t plan to repeat either experience. He didn’t object to long-term relationships as long as they were grounded in compatibility and complementing personalities…not his gonads. Unfortunately, his body wasn’t listening to logic just now.
He forced his attention back to the job. “I’ll have to pull permits for the upstairs remodel,” he said. “I’ll work on the paperwork and get it all filed when escrow closes. In the meantime I’ll have the office draw up a contract along with an estimate of the work. Where should I have the papers delivered?”
She named a local hotel.
“Does someone else need to look at any of this?” he asked.
“Like my dad?”
“No. But a significant other, a lawyer?”
“Ah. Actually, I’m making this decision all on my own.”
He was more pleased than he had a right to be. Figuring that his attempts for control were
already shot, he gathered his papers and stuffed them back in his briefcase, then headed for the front door. She followed, walking more slowly. When he remembered the cane and her halting step, he slowed his so she could catch up. She opened the front door.
“I’m looking forward to this, Del.”
“Me, too.”
They shook hands. He ignored the way the feel of her skin against his made him want to rub his palm over all of her. He was disgusting. Worse, he was acting like a teenager. She waved, then closed the door behind him.
As he started down the path, he paused to glance over his shoulder and study the old house. At one time he’d imagined himself living here. Now there was going to be a different owner. He probed his heart and found that he didn’t mind as much as he would have thought. To be honest, he couldn’t imagine Josie and himself living together. His feelings for her were well and truly dead. Which meant he had to stop thinking about her and instead focus on the very appealing Rose. Hardly a difficult job. In fact, he was looking forward to spending a lot of time with her.
Two days later Josie sat in her hotel room studying the contracts Del’s office had sent over. She read through the estimate of charges and a schedule of what would be completed when. Her pen hovered over the line for her signature.
Jan, from his office, had called to get her last name for the contract and Josie had been forced to come up with a fake one. Which was the name she was expected to sign on the contracts. There were probably dozens of legal implications to her lie, she thought glumly. Not that she intended to run out on the bill. It would probably be easier for everyone if she just came clean and told Del who she was. Except she didn’t want to.
Their conversation at the Miller place had been the first pleasant one she could remember. They’d been able to talk to each other like normal people, without screaming or accusing or either walking away. She’d found herself liking Del and enjoying teasing him. She’d liked the freedom of starting over as someone new. As Rose she could explore her relationship with Del from a safe distance, getting to know him again, finding out what she liked and didn’t like. He was still too good-looking, with an amazing body. She’d always thought he was sexy, and that hadn’t changed. But what did he think about her?
Josie leaned back in the club chair in her suite and sighed. She’d seen the spark of interest in Del’s eyes. She knew her ex-husband well enough to know that he’d been attracted to the woman he thought of as Rose. After setting the contract on her lap, she pressed her fingertips to her face. She looked so different, but she thought her new face was pretty—albeit in a different way from her old one. She wasn’t surprised that Del appreciated the more prominent cheekbones and smooth skin. He’d always liked her eyes and probably still did. So that interest made sense. What she didn’t understand was how he could find anything appealing about her body.
She pressed her hands to her legs, feeling the tired muscles quiver slightly. She was broken—nothing like she’d been before. How could he not be repelled by her weakness, her need for a cane? And yet he hadn’t been. He’d been friendly, solicitous and charming. With completely twisted logic, she liked that he found her attractive, despite her disability, and she hated that he was over her enough to be interested in other women. Even if that woman was her.
She wasn’t over him. Just spending an hour or so in his presence had been enough to convince her of that. She hadn’t dated much since the divorce, telling herself she was busy figuring out her new life. But now she thought the truth might be very different. She’d never given herself the time or space to recover from losing Del. Instead she’d put her feelings in a box and ignored them. Being around him every day during the remodeling was going to force her into coming to terms with her past. She didn’t look forward to the process, but she knew she would be stronger for having endured it.
Like physical therapy, her emotional recovery would be slow and painful, with plenty of setbacks. But it was the only way to be free of the man who used to be her husband.
Chapter Three
“I have the permits ready to go,” Del told her from his seat behind his desk. “As soon as escrow closes I’ll take care of it.”
It was Monday morning and Josie had just spent a long weekend alone with way too much time to think. One of the things that had been on her mind was the reality that the name she’d given Del didn’t match the name on the escrow papers. She’d never been a good liar and she still wasn’t. Too much energy was required to keep everything straight. But she was in too deep now and she wasn’t about to back out by telling Del the truth.
“Actually I’ve spoken with the escrow people,” she said, forcing herself to stare into his dark eyes and pretend that everything was completely normal. “When I explained what I was doing, they offered to file the papers when they change the title. I’m heading over there this morning. I can take them with me.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said easily, as if nothing was wrong. Of course, for him nothing was.
“Good.” She opened the oversize envelope on her lap and drew out the signed contracts. She set them on his desk, along with a cashier’s check for one-third of the total amount required for the remodeling. “I signed them and initialed the changes.”
“I like an efficient woman,” he said, flashing her a smile.
She steeled herself against the crinkles by his eyes and the way his white teeth contrasted with his tanned skin. To distract herself from the overpowering maleness that was Delaney Scott, she looked around at his office.
He’d moved into a larger room since their divorce. Probably when his dad officially retired, she thought. The view was better—a big window overlooked the street. His old office had been in the back, next to the parking lot. As in the reception area, photos of restorations covered the walls. The cabinets and drafting table looked new, but the old wood desk was the same one he’d had for years. She recognized the gouge in the left-front corner—the result of a dropped circular saw. She knew that the middle drawer stuck, that he kept a stash of red licorice in the bottom drawer and that they’d made love on the desk at least a half dozen times. The last had been on a Sunday morning when he’d come into work to escape their latest fight, and she’d followed him, determined to have the last word. They’d been screaming at each other when the atmosphere had suddenly changed. One second they’d been saying how much they hated each other and the next they’d been tearing at clothes and kissing frantically.
Josie shifted uncomfortably as she tried to push the memory away. She wasn’t sure which bothered her more—the wild-animal sex that required a flexibility she no longer had or the ugly things she and Del had said to each other.
“I’ve gone over the plans,” Del was saying, drawing her attention to the present. “There shouldn’t be a problem with getting an upstairs bedroom and the guest bath ready by Friday.”
“I appreciate that. I don’t like living in hotels.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Let me see. Maids clean the room and make the bed, and room service delivers meals. What’s not to like?”
“I guess when you put it that way, it doesn’t make sense. But personally, I’d rather be in my own house.”
What she didn’t tell him was that having someone deliver meals and change her bed was too much of a reminder of all her months in the hospital and rehab center. She would rather be on her own and responsible for herself any day.
Del leaned back in his old leather chair. It creaked with the movement. He wore worn jeans and an old blue work shirt, both faded nearly white with age. The soft fabric molded to his body in a way that made her mouth water. Ironically, while she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been with a man, she could remember the last time she and Del had made love. For once they hadn’t been angry. Instead they’d both been sad—as if they’d known their relationship was ending.
“What about paint?” Del said. “You’re going to have to pick colors for the whole house eventually, but first I’ll need
suggestions for the bedroom and bath you want done this week. Also if you’re interested in wallpaper, I have a couple dozen sample books you can look through. It’s generally easier to take them home and look at them leisurely.”
She hadn’t thought through all the details of remodeling a house. There were going to be a lot of decisions to make. “Could we go neutral, say an off-white temporarily?”
“Not a problem.” He made a note on a pad of paper.
She thought about wrestling all the wallpaper sample books from her car to the hotel room. It would take her hours to get them inside.
“As far as picking out wallpaper, what about bringing the sample books to the house? I’ll be living there in a few days, anyway.”
“And checking up on me.” His voice was teasing. “Figures.”
“I’ll admit I’m interested to see how it all comes together. It’s difficult for me to look at a drawing and then imagine how the change is going to look in real life.”
He leaned forward. “Spend as much time as you want watching. Seriously, Rose, this is going to be your home. You have every right to make sure you’re getting exactly what you want. I hire skilled craftspeople who do excellent work. I have nothing to hide. In fact I would encourage you to check out the quality. I’m proud of my crew.”
“You also like what you do.”
He nodded. “I’m lucky that way. I knew what I wanted from the time I was about eight and my dad started letting me tag along on jobs. For a while my folks tried to push me to become an architect, but I’d rather be building than drawing.”
There was an eagerness and excitement in his voice. She remembered all the times he’d wanted to talk about his work, and she’d told him that hearing about it was as interesting as watching paint dry. Had she been crazy? Del wasn’t boring, he was a good, honest man. She sure had been a witch. The question was why? What had she been so angry about?
“I promise I won’t get in the way,” she said, forcing herself to relax and even smile. “At least I’ll try not to. I don’t move all that quickly.”
Wife in Disguise Page 3
