She had to admit she was impressed, but she couldn’t spread herself too thin. She opened her mouth to turn him down...again.
“No.” He held up his hand to silence her. “Don’t answer so quickly, because this will be my last offer and I can see the glint of temptation in your eyes.”
On second thought, her serious consideration of his offer would give her license to browse around. She’d love to check out the closed-up rooms she hadn’t dared explore before. “Do you mind if I look around? To see what I’m getting myself into?”
He waved his hand, granting her free passage. “Help yourself.”
She jumped to her feet and hurried down the hallway. She noticed how he trailed her—so close that the scent of his spicy cologne wrapped around her. She paused in front of the double doors just off the foyer and glanced over her shoulder as though making sure he hadn’t changed his mind about her nosing around the place.
“Go ahead.” His tone was reserved and a bit hesitant.
She turned and pushed the doors open. This was her first glimpse of the living room and she was impressed by its sheer size. Her entire ranch house could fit in this one room with space to spare. And the ceilings were at least twelve feet high, giving the room a wide-open feel.
But there was something not quite right. She scanned the area again, taking in the furniture. Though of high quality, it was too contemporary for the house. And the impressionistic artwork on the walls didn’t quite fit. A stately home such as this deserved to be decorated with items that exuded grace and elegance, not flash and fad.
With no throw covers, everything was coated in heavy dust that tickled her nose and made her eyes water. Beneath the filth, the house looked as though the occupants had gotten up one morning, gone about their day but never returned.
Throw pillows were haphazardly strewn about as though people had tossed them aside and forgotten to pick them up. Even a newspaper was spread across the glass coffee table, open to the sports page. Was that why Lucas lived like he did? Was he waiting for someone to return? A lost love?
Kate recalled him mentioning an ex-wife. Was that it? Was he still grieving the loss of his marriage?
A white-and-pink figurine caught her attention. Drawn to it, like a curious feline to a buzzing fly, she couldn’t stop herself from picking it up. It was of a mother holding her baby girl. Her fingers stroked over the smooth surface. The mother and child were smiling at each other as if they’d just spent a marvelous day together. It touched something deep inside Kate and had her frowning at the thought of never spending another carefree day with her daughter.
“Put it down.”
Kate jumped at the boom of Lucas’s voice. Her fingers tightened around the porcelain figurine to keep from dropping it. With the knick-knack safely returned to the dust-covered end table, she faced Lucas. “You know you’re going to have to learn to trust me or this will never work.”
His expression transformed into one of contrition. “Sorry. I... Oh, never mind.”
She noticed a deep sadness in his eyes and wondered what had put it there. But she knew it was none of her business. He probably didn’t want to talk about his past any more than she did.
“The good news is from what I’ve seen of the downstairs, there’s no damage. The rooms need a thorough cleaning and a fresh coat of paint. How attached are you to the furniture?” She tried to sound impartial just in case he actually liked the pieces.
“It can go as far as I’m concerned. Does this mean you’ve accepted the job?”
Oh, she was certainly tempted. “This place is so big. You know you could clear away the furniture and dance in here.”
“It’s been done before.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “My great-grandmother started the tradition of throwing grand parties here at the house. She considered it her duty to entertain clients of Carrington Gems. She’d think up some of the grandest parties. It didn’t matter the occasion as long as she could get together the city’s movers and shakers to flaunt Carrington’s latest creations.”
Already Kate could imagine the big-band music, the beautiful dresses and glitzy jewelry. “Oh, how I’d have loved to attend. It must have been something.”
“Great-gran was a crafty one. She knew these women were quite wealthy and hated to be outdone by anyone. So my great-grandfather ended up employing the finest craftsmen to design something unique for each of them.”
“Those must have been some grand parties.”
“They were. In fact, there should be pictures of them around somewhere.” He paused as though trying to remember what had happened to them. “Then again, I think they might have been packed away in the attic. Elaina, my ex, didn’t like to have antiques and memorabilia around. She called it clutter.”
Without thinking, Kate blurted out, “Did Elaina by chance redecorate the house?”
Pain showed in his eyes. “I thought it’d make her happy. She made a mess of the house and...” He pressed his lips together as though realizing he’d said too much. In a blink, the glimpse into this man and his closely guarded feelings was once again hidden behind a wall. “About my offer—are you willing to take me up on it?”
Looking around the place, she was filled with ideas. “How would you feel about making a deal?”
“I thought that’s what I’m trying to do. Name your price.”
“It isn’t your money that interests me.” She worried her bottom lip. Should she do this? She had to be crazy, but what did she have to lose?
“What sort of deal do you have in mind?”
“When the work is all said and done, I’d like to borrow your house for an evening.” The words poured out of her mouth like a breached dam, but at least they were now out there. “We could hold the fund-raiser here. In honor of your great-grandmother, we could have a 1920s flapper party—”
“What?” He reared back as though slapped.
“Think about it. You could show off your new line of jewelry.”
“Impossible. I don’t want people parading through my house like it’s some sort of museum. You’ll have to find another way to advertise your interior design work.”
Her hands pressed to her hips. “That’s what you think? That I’m planning to line potential clients down the block to have a look-see at your house? Well, you don’t have to worry—the thought never crossed my mind.”
She had more to say about him misjudging her, but she bit back her tongue. She couldn’t forget how much was riding on her making a successful deal.
He eyed her up as though trying to make up his mind. “Maybe I jumped to the wrong conclusion. But the days of parties being thrown here are over. We’ll find you another venue.”
“Not one with so much allure or history. We could double or triple the ticket price for people to come to the Carrington mansion.” Lucas shook his head, but she couldn’t stop. The ideas were coming hard and fast. Her hands waved around as she talked. “Think about it. This could provide publicity for Carrington Gems, too.”
She didn’t see why they couldn’t both benefit from this production, but she could tell he wasn’t quite sold. Now how would she nudge him into agreement? She didn’t have a clue, but there had to be a way.
“Do you really think people are going to line up to come here?” He glanced around at the dirty surroundings.
“I know it needs a little TLC, but this place will draw in lots of curious folks.”
“I don’t think so.”
Her insides quivered as she stepped up to him. “Please. I’ll beg if I have to.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
A BALL OF SYMPATHY churned in Lucas’s gut. He knew all too well the private hell a parent went through when they felt as if they’d lost control of their child’s well-being. But Kate was asking him to open up his home—a p
iece of himself—to public scrutiny. His life was already disrupted enough by that magazine article. He didn’t need people he didn’t even know coming in here and whispering behind his back.
He needed time to think. But not here. Not now. He turned on his heels.
“Wait!”
His steps faltered, but he didn’t turn back. He couldn’t. It would be utter torture to witness the desperation written all over her delicate features. Or the disappointment when he denied her what she so badly wanted.
“I’m not finished.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “At least hear me out.”
He didn’t know what else she had on her mind, but he at least owed her the decency of hearing her out. He stopped in the foyer and turned. The desperation on her face ate at his resolve.
“I’m sorry.” She caught up to him. “I don’t mean to pester you. I just... I need to do everything to help my daughter.”
Lucas shifted his weight from one foot to the other. This wasn’t his problem, no matter how bad he felt for her and the awful situation she was facing. He couldn’t let himself get sucked back into the miserable murkiness of helplessness. Yet turning his back on Kate clearly wasn’t an option either.
When the silence dragged on, Kate spoke up. “Do you like my idea about planning a party like your grandmother might have done? You know, displaying the new line of jewelry?”
He actually liked her suggestion a lot. “I’d need to find someone to wear the jewelry.”
“I’m sure you must have some beautiful models on hand. Any woman would die to wear Carrington Gems.”
“But this will have to be done right. The clothes and hair will all have to be choreographed to give the gems the best display possible.”
“You make it sound very planned out.”
“It will be. Trust me. Only the best for Carrington.”
The smile dipped from her face and she suddenly looked quite serious. “Does this mean we have a deal?”
“Not quite.” Though a voice inside him said he was crazy to open his home to the public, business sense told him this personalized campaign might make a big difference to the Fiery Hearts jewelry launch. “I want daily progress reports, including any surprises or unexpected delays. If I find at any point you aren’t completely forthcoming, the deal is off.”
He wasn’t the first client to micromanage a project. Having Lucas looking over her shoulder wasn’t her preferred way to work, but she’d make do. “Not a problem. I can write up a daily summary of our progress.”
“I’d prefer to have these updates in person. Say over dinner each evening.”
“You want us to dine every night?” She hadn’t counted on that and after the kiss in the car, she wasn’t so sure spending time together was a good idea. She wasn’t ready for a relationship—she wasn’t sure she ever would be again. They hurt way too much when they ended.
“Considering we’ll be living here together, I don’t see where that will be such a hardship.”
“But I’ll be at the hospital.”
“No problem. I’m used to eating late. I’ll have something waiting when you get home.” He sent her a don’t-argue-with-me look. “I’ll let you think it over.”
“I don’t need to.” His eyes lit up with surprise, but the truth was she didn’t have any time to waste. This place needed lots of TLC. “It’s a deal. Now would you mind if we went upstairs? I’d like to get your input on some things.”
His head lowered and he spoke in a strangled voice. “I can’t go back up there.”
Not I won’t or some other excuse, but rather I can’t. What was up with that? She was tempted to ask—tempted to ease his pain. But she reminded herself that this was a business relationship. Nothing more.
“Lucas, thank you...for all of this.” When his gaze rose to meet hers, she noticed a poignant sadness in his eyes. “Tell me, what do you plan to do with this house? You know, once it’s fixed up?”
He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Does it matter?”
“Actually it does. If you’re planning to sell, then the interior should be more neutral to invite people to envision their family and possessions within these walls. But if you have plans of keeping it and living here then we can tailor everything to your taste.”
“It doesn’t matter. Use your best judgment.”
Frustration bubbled up in Kate. She’d never encountered this problem before. Usually her clients had too many ideas—ideas outside of their budget and she’d have to rein them in. And though she was tempted to run with the utter freedom he suggested, something told her that Lucas wasn’t as apathetic to the house’s remodel as he wanted her to believe.
She lifted her chin and looked him straight on. “If you would walk through the rooms with me and give me a basic idea of what you have in mind, I could come up with some sketches for you to look over.”
“I only have one requirement. There’s a room upstairs at the other end of the hallway from yours. I don’t want anyone in there. It’s locked and it’s to remain that way.”
“But this place is filthy. You might not want to paint the room, but we’ll need to clean it.”
“No. I don’t want you going in there. Period.”
What in the world was his hang-up about that room? Had it been the room he shared with the ex-wife? Was he secretly pining for her? Somehow his reaction still seemed over the top.
Perhaps someone had died in the room. If so, that would explain why he was acting so strange. And it’d be a more reasonable explanation for turning this house into some sort of mausoleum. If she were ever to lose Molly... Her heart stuttered and a cold sweat broke out on the nape of her neck. No. She would not go there.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was important to you.”
He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “It’s just that it’s my...uh, never mind. I just need it left alone.”
“I understand.”
The man might be a little rough around the edges and have a few peculiarities, but she wanted to reach out to him and find out what he’d been on the verge of saying. Still, a nagging voice in the back of her mind warned her not to let her defenses down around him. In her experience, men were basically the same—unreliable.
She’d thought the moon rose and set around her father—how could she have been so wrong? She wanted to tell herself that it was because she was a child and didn’t know any better. But that didn’t explain Chad. She’d utterly and completely fallen for his charm and empty promises. She’d even agreed to his spur-of-the-moment proposal and rushed Las-Vegas-style I dos.
She’d convinced herself that he’d eventually settle down—once they found the right town. But no matter how many jobs he had in this place or that place, none of them suited him.
By the time she became pregnant, she couldn’t remember the address of her latest apartment. She was certain when she told Chad about the baby that it would give him a reason to plant some roots. She’d been so wrong.
He’d been enraged and was convinced that she’d tricked him into getting her pregnant. He’d left that night, only to play a sporadic part in their daughter’s life while he continued to chase his ever-changing dreams.
And now, at this vital juncture in her life, Kate didn’t need any complications. Lucas was one walking string of complications. The first and most important was that he was providing her with the means with which to raise the money for her daughter’s surgery. If their relationship didn’t last—and relationships never did—the price was just too great.
* * *
“Did you see this?”
The following morning, Kate couldn’t tear her eyes from the photo of her and Lucas in the paper. If she’d ever had any doubts about whether that kiss in the car had been a dream, she now had proof. But this picture made the kiss appear less than innoce
nt. In fact, the clench appeared quite steamy—on both sides.
Her cheeks flamed as she recalled his lips moving over hers. The way her stomach had filled with a fluttering sensation. And the way he’d left her longing for more. But that wasn’t going to happen. She wouldn’t let it.
With a frown pulling at her face, she glanced at the photo again. Maybe the photo wasn’t an exaggeration, but it had been a private moment—a lapse in judgment, never to be repeated.
Lucas didn’t say a word as he sipped his coffee, which added to her frustration.
She smacked the paper. “This headline is outrageous. Carrington Heir Snared?” She set aside her steaming mug, feeling the heat of embarrassment rising up her neck and setting her face aflame. “I thought you said if the picture made the paper, it’d be obscure.”
“Don’t let it get to you. It’s not worth getting worked up over.”
“Nothing! How can you call my private life splashed in the news nothing?” Her eyes took in each and every innuendo. She couldn’t stop reading any more than she could stop breathing. “This is going to be a disaster. How am I supposed to face everyone much less ask people for money when this article implies you and I are...you know.”
“Sleeping together.” He supplied the answer so smoothly, so casually as though having the whole world contemplating his sex life was the status quo.
“We have to do something.” Her mind frantically sought out an answer. “We should sue them.”
He shook his head. “First, it would only make this below-the-fold story bigger. And second, they don’t actually lie. We are sleeping together under one roof—”
“But in separate beds.”
“And we were seen leaving here early in the morning.”
“But it wasn’t the wee hours of the morning like they said.”
“You’re splitting hairs. Besides, did you happen to think about spinning this publicity around and using it to your advantage?”
“But I don’t want publicity. I’m happy with my quiet life.”
Safe in the Tycoon's Arms (Harlequin Romance) Page 8