Her Forbidden Risk, page 12
As anger churned in her gut, she took a deep breath and exited the bathroom. Fine. She’d look at the damned blueprints. But hell would freeze over before she allowed her brother to coast on her hard work.
“Hello, Mitch,” she said coolly.
His gaze swiveled to hers, and for an instant, flashed with appreciation. It dipped to the low V of her tank-style top then lifted once more, a smile curving his mouth. “Hey you. I hope you don’t mind—I asked Mrs. Henderson to join us so she could tell you her ideas.”
The client—he’d invited the client when she hadn’t accepted? A lowball tactic if she’d ever seen one. Add that on top of his intense pitch, and she became more certain he was trying to affect whatever means necessary to have things his way. Nevertheless, she nodded. “That’s fine,” she said a bit too sharply. “Shall we get going?”
A frown tugged at his brow, and he tipped his head thoughtfully. She shrugged it off, determined not to feel guilty. After all, he was primarily after their names. And at the end of the day, business was business. She’d walked away from clients far more influential who’d tried to bully her, and she’d walk away from Mitch as well. Now, more than ever, she was determined to hop the next plane back to France.
…
A block from his house, Mitch gave in to the nagging curiosity that struck when he knocked on Emily’s hotel room door and Andre answered. He slid his gaze sideways, mindful of the chilly vibes Emily gave off. He’d need to choose his words carefully.
“So. You said you and Andre aren’t dating.”
“No, we aren’t.” She smoothed her hair off her shoulder and recrossed her legs.
Did he want to know? Really? He chewed on the inside of his cheek. Her terse tone made it clear she didn’t intend to elaborate. If he wanted more details, he’d have to press, and clearly she wasn’t in the mood. Maybe they were just good friends. Maybe they were good friends with…benefits. The pictures on the Internet sure implied more than platonic involvement.
As if Emily sensed just how best to get under his skin, she volunteered, “We share a flat back home. We’re moving to Paris soon.”
Son of a bitch. So not what he wanted to hear. He struggled for a neutral tone of voice. “I see.” That certainly explained why he was comfortable in her hotel room. Chill. It doesn’t mean there’s anything else to it.
From the corner of his eye, he caught the turn of her head and the speculative narrowing of her eyes. “We’re not sleeping together, Mitch, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”
The knot behind his ribs unraveled by several dozen degrees. Yet a little voice inside his head said they didn’t have to be having sex for her to have lingering feelings. They were so close. So obviously attuned to each other.
Hell, why did it matter? He wasn’t even really dating her. They were temporary. What she did in Europe, or who she did it with, was none of his business.
He pulled into his driveway and shut the engine off. Emily climbed out before he could pull his keys from the ignition and made it halfway up the walk by the time he exited the truck. If he needed any further proof something bugged her, he’d just received it. But what had changed since he’d taken her home earlier?
Mitch caught up with her, unlocked his front door, and opened it, allowing Emily to enter first. He’d picked up a little, and the elegant dining table he rarely ever used had been converted into a conference table. Three chairs gathered around one end. The blueprints were spread and tacked down with heavy candles that had been his mother’s. And at the far end of the arrangement, he’d set out a pitcher of water along with some boxed cookies he’d opened. Not much, but the best he could throw together.
Emily went straight to the brightly lit alcove and set her purse on a chair. “So these are the prints?”
He nodded. “Mrs. Henderson should be here in about fifteen minutes. I tried to buy you some time.” Us some time, he amended silently. He’d wanted a few minutes alone before they had to delve into work. But judging from her stand-offish demeanor, his interests wouldn’t be appreciated.
What in the world had crawled beneath her skin? When he’d seen her last, she’d been happy. Sated. Tired. But definitely happy.
Emily pushed her hair over her shoulder and bent, hands braced on the tabletop, to examine the prints. “Looks like a beautiful layout. Mrs. Henderson—why does that name sound familiar?”
No way would he tell her about her father’s close friendship. He shrugged instead. “Maybe because there’s no elbow room in this town?”
His jest was enough to make her lips quirk but not enough for a full laugh. Nodding thoughtfully, she ran a manicured nail over the design specs. “I don’t suppose you have any photographs, do you?”
Mitch shook his head. “I asked Mrs. Henderson to take a few before she came.”
“Good. Those will be helpful. The prints are great for seeing what you’re doing with materials, but as far as the finishing touches, it helps to have something more solid.”
Mitch crossed the room and stood at her side. “This fascinates me.” He tapped a small square seemingly trapped inside another. Then tapped an identical representation on the second and third floors. “Secret passageway.”
Emily grinned and stuffed an elbow in his ribs. “Servants’ passage, silly.”
“No, seriously.” With his other hand, he indicated what would be the rear walls of the house. “These are the servants’ stairs and rooms. Mrs. Henderson didn’t even know about those three in the middle. Says there’s no door. I’m betting there’s a false wall somewhere.”
“Will she let you find it?”
He nodded. “Said she didn’t mind. So long as whatever we damage, we repair—on our dime.” He shrugged again, slightly embarrassed by his own excitement. “I think she’s just as curious, if you ask me.”
Emily studied the hand-drawn layout. “Andre and I worked on a medieval chateau in France a few years ago. There were passageways everywhere. Some so old the spider webs had spider webs. We power washed everything, designed a hidden lighting scheme, and I found these gorgeous old tapestries that gave it a real historic feel. Looked straight out of Macbeth when we finished. I love discovering treasures like that, finding just the right use, and making everything click.”
“Sounds fascinating,” he murmured. The way her face lit up when she talked about her work, however, trumped his interest in hidden routes. She was nothing less than enchanting. Reaching out, he ran a knuckle down the side of her face and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
She stiffened, subtly shifted away, out of reach.
Something was definitely wrong. Mitch frowned. “Emily?”
Not looking at him, she answered, “Yeah?”
The ringing of his doorbell stopped him short. He closed his mouth, swallowing back the question. “That would be Mrs. Henderson,” he murmured. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here.”
Right. Physically maybe, but she wasn’t here mentally. Not with him, at least. Or maybe he read too much into things. Maybe she just wanted to stay in the right frame of mind for the meeting. He’d play it by ear, see how she acted after Mrs. Henderson left.
He reached the front door and swung it open to face the pinch-faced, graying, elderly lady. With her handbag clutched tight in front of her and her hair stuffed into an immaculate bun, she looked more severe than her usual no-nonsense demeanor.
“Mrs. Henderson.” Mitch clasped her hand.
She shook politely. “Mitch. I hope this meeting is more productive than our last. You know I wanted to have this finished before my son and his family arrive next month. The calendar is moving.”
He gave her a cordial smile, helped her out of her lightweight sweater, and gestured at the dining room. “I promise it will be. Come on in. Emily is looking forward to seeing your photographs.”
“Emily?” She lifted her chin and stared down her nose. “You don’t mean the Gardner girl, do you?”
Mitch kept his smile intact, though he felt it waiver. “Let’s hear what she has to say.”
Pre-empting her response, he guided her into the dining room. Emily looked up with a warm smile. Mrs. Henderson’s gaze narrowed. Inwardly, Mitch groaned. He’d been worried about Emily accepting. Perhaps he should have put more thought into how his client would react. From the looks of things, the meeting would be harrowing. At best.
Chapter Seventeen
Emily took a deep breath as Mitch’s body pressed into her side while he studied the pictures on Mrs. Henderson’s digital camera. For the last hour or so she’d struggled with keeping her mind on the meeting. The sexy rumble of his voice, the way he educated Mrs. Henderson with the simplest of concepts, hell the way he moved, had Emily’s mind filling with memories of their night in Kansas City. The scent of his cologne, as it filled her nose in close proximity, had her body thrumming.
“I couldn’t agree more. The deep colonial blue would really offset your natural wood, as Emily said.” Mitch released the camera and chuckled. “I wouldn’t have made that call, but now that she’s said it, I think you’d be pleased, Mrs. Henderson.”
The elderly lady’s expression remained flat and unreadable. “It’s an interesting choice. As is the sage for the parlor. Your other designer recommended a rich mauve.”
Emily bristled inwardly. She’d also been battling Mrs. Henderson’s judgment for the last hour or so. It seemed the woman was incapable of a decisive opinion and at every turn she had to bring up what the other contractor had mentioned in passing. Of course, the other contractor hadn’t seen the house, as far as Emily knew. Just heard a verbalization of spaces. Still, it burned to feel like she was being…compared…and found lacking.
Of course, she’d known from the moment the woman walked in that she’d already been deemed lacking. She hadn’t missed Mrs. Henderson’s remark about the Gardner girl, and her disapproving frown said all the things she kept behind her tight expression. And to Emily’s surprise, Mitch had been there to rescue her each time Mrs. Henderson’s insinuations hit a little too close to home. She hadn’t anticipated that from him. His chivalry unsettled her, even as it touched some long buried place in her soul.
She forced another smile to her face and passed the camera back to the elderly woman. “You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Henderson, and whatever you choose to do with it will make it even more lovely. You’ve heard my ideas. Think it over.” No way would she work with this old bat. Likely, each day would be an exercise in patience, with nothing ever meeting the woman’s approval. This was exactly the type of client she avoided. She’d drive Andre batshit crazy in a matter of minutes.
But even if she declined Mitch’s offer, Emily had taken great care to ensure she made suggestions down to tiny details. Enough that Mitch could roll them out with relative similarity and still get his job done on time. He really only needed a good painter and wallpaperer. Someone to make a buying trip. And the rest was cake.
Mrs. Henderson rose in a stilted fashion. She slipped her camera into her handbag, snapped it shut, and nodded to Mitch. “I will think it over and get back to you.” She glanced at Emily, hesitated a moment, then looked away. “And I will see myself out. Thank you both for your time this evening.”
Talk about a chilly good-bye. Emily shuddered. But Mitch seemed unfazed. He chuckled as he rounded the end of the table to escort Mrs. Henderson to the door anyway. When she exited, and he’d shut the heavy front door, he turned with a mischievous grin. “She’s a bit difficult when you first meet her. But she warms up.”
Emily snorted. “Iced tea is warmer than she could ever be.”
He stalked around the corner, stepped in front of her, and looped his arms around her waist. “You were amazing.”
She couldn’t help but jest. “I always am. That’s why you wanted Andre and me.”
“Andre maybe.” Dipping his head, he brushed his lips across hers. “Want you? Unquestionably.”
Heat spread through her body, and her protective instincts began to fade. She stepped closer, melding herself into his embrace, and rubbed her cheek on his hard chest. God, he’s so irresistible. Even if she knew better than to let him go to her head, she’d been craving this closeness. Hungering for it.
Mitch threaded his fingers through her hair and held her close. Beneath her ear, his strong heartbeat accelerated. “I missed you today,” he whispered against her hair.
“Missed me?” She laughed to keep her pulse from soaring. Indulging in his nearness was one thing. But letting him seep any further into her heart would be flat out dangerous. Remember, he as much said your name would elevate his business. She couldn’t forget that…even if everything else he did had her knees wobbling and her body crying his name. “It’s only been a few hours.”
“And I’ve been counting down every one.” He slid a hand down her spine to her lower back and urged her close enough that the hard evidence of his arousal pressed into the juncture of her thighs. “Waiting for when I could have you to myself.”
That hard length tormented her thoughts. A slow-burning ache opened deep inside her, and she lifted to her toes, in need of his kiss. She pressed her mouth to his, teased the seam with the tip of her tongue.
Mitch opened to her with a low, rumbling groan. His fingers tightened at her back.
Against her breast, his heart thudded a hard, primal beat. Just like that, he swept her away—all thought of keeping him at a distance smashed into oblivion as his body welcomed hers.
He quickly took control of the kiss, tangling one hand into her hair and angling her head where he wanted. Capturing her lower lip between his teeth, he gave a demanding nip, then gently sucked, soothing the delightful sting.
Repeated, incessant, vibrating against the tabletop interrupted Emily’s haze. Mitch seemed to notice the interruption at the same time, and with a mutter, pulled away from the kiss. He glanced at the table where his cell phone lay. The screen lit up, brightly displaying her brother’s name.
He glanced at her guiltily. “Derek will want to know how tonight went.”
Sighing, Emily conceded by stepping out of Mitch’s grasp. She gestured at the phone. “He’s with Andre. They both probably want to know.”
Mitch hit the answer button, then turned it on speaker. “You’re on speaker, Derek.”
Of course he’d warn him. Emily gritted her teeth.
“Hey, you two. How’d it go? What did you think, Emily?”
She shrugged. “It’s a job. A big one. And the client has an even bigger ego.”
Derek’s laughter rumbled through the line. “She’s very charming when you get to know her.”
She tossed Mitch a look of disbelief. “Right. Like a snake charmer.”
“Emmie, don’t be so harsh. Did you like the possibilities? Does it look like something you would enjoy?”
Emily stiffened like a rod had been shoved down her back. No way would she willingly work with that tight-laced old lady. But she couldn’t just blurt that out in front of Mitch. She hadn’t expected Derek would put her on the spot so directly, and she didn’t quite know how to respond. “Ah…well…”
“We’ll let them both think it over, Derek,” Mitch finished when she hesitated. “Emily’s ideas were pretty bold, but just what the house needs. I think Mrs. Henderson will need some time to embrace them.”
To the rescue again. The same unfamiliar place buried deep inside Emily warmed once more.
“Fair enough,” Derek replied. “Emily?”
“Yes?” she answered, uncertain.
“Remember, if you take the job, you have to finish it.”
“Derek!” Shocked, her eyes went wide as she stared at the phone. “I would never—”
Mitch slid a reassuring arm around her waist. “I don’t think you need to worry.” His tone was gruffer, as if Derek had somehow insulted him as well.
Could that be possible? Had he, perhaps, come to care more than she’d imagined? She chewed on her lower lip as hope flared to life all over again. He’d been awfully tense about Andre in the car. For a moment, she’d thought he might have been jealous. And she’d let that fester, deliberately. Now, she felt bad for not making her situation with Andre clear. Particularly if he really cared about her.
Well, nothing to do for it now. She’d explain the next time he came up. Mentioning Andre now might be too presumptuous.
“We were just wrapping up some loose ends,” Mitch went on. “I’ll fill you in tomorrow.”
Derek chuckled quietly. “Don’t stay out too late, kids. Kansas City might get upset with you, Mitch, for having another woman around.”
Kansas City? Emily gave Mitch a questioning look. He brushed it off with a shake of his head, terminated the call, and gathered her back into his arms. “Where were we?”
“Mm.” She pushed all thought of her brother aside and focused on the sultry curve of Mitch’s mouth. “Right here, I think.” Lifting to her toes, she captured his mouth again.
…
Emily’s sweet flavor soaked into Mitch, drawing him away from the clear warning Derek had needlessly issued. She might not have realized what Derek’s parting remark meant, but Mitch had heard it loud and clear—if he entertained other ideas, Emily was strictly off limits. Too many years of friendship made it all too easy to interpret what lay between the lines.
He threaded his fingers into her long, silken hair and let the tangle of her tongue saturate his mind until all he could think about was escorting her up the stairs, laying her on his bed, and losing himself in her amazing body. He’d been telling the truth when he’d said he’d been counting down the hours. Every damned minute. And whatever had burrowed under her skin earlier, she’d obviously let go of.
Her delicate fingertips slipped beneath his collared shirt and danced across his chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He drew in a ragged breath, trailed light kisses across her jawline to keep his lungs from screeching to a halt. She smelled like coconuts and flowers, and good God, he couldn’t get close enough. A frustrated grunt escaped him.
