A Scandalous Deal

by Joanna Shupe

  She and Carew had slowly reviewed the numbers, explained the steel frame system and how it would connect with the supporting beams. Talked through the deflections in place to counterbalance the lateral and vertical forces, such as wind pressure and gravitational pull, and even the sequential load estimates during the build. She had participated fully, displaying an impressive breadth of knowledge.

  “Mr. Weller, your wife simply must try the currant jam,” the red-haired minx was currently saying. “I’ll have the cook send a jar up before you go.” She motioned to a footman, who nodded and left the room.

  “Thank you.” The tips of Weller’s ears turned red. “I’m certain she will appreciate your kindness.”

  “It is my pleasure. A way of sharing things from my beloved homeland. Would you like one as well, Mr. Carew?”

  Carew nodded. “Yes, I’d like that. Thank you.”

  “Were there more questions, sir?” she asked Weller. “You may come back to the site as often as you need, of course, but I trust we’ve addressed all your concerns.”

  “More than addressed, I’d say. Hyde is quite clever and clearly has not misplaced his trust in you.”

  “You are too kind, and the words are undoubtedly a comfort to Mr. Mansfield, who has been quite patient over in the corner.”

  They all turned to Phillip and he produced a tight smile. Yes, he was profoundly relieved, but far too impressed, too . . . jumbled to join in the conviviality.

  Eva rose, calling an end to the interminable visit, and the others came to their feet as well. Phillip was slower to rise, a strange anticipation coiling in his belly. This woman perplexed and enticed him, had from the very start when he’d met her aboard the ship. He’d tried to forget that night, to keep their relationship a working one—not a personal one. He was failing.

  Phillip hated to fail.

  Of course. The answer appeared with perfect clarity. He would have her and his hotel.

  He’d convince her to pick up where they’d left off while on the Atlantic. He turned the idea over, allowing it to settle in his veins. The more he considered it, the more sense it made. Why shouldn’t they indulge in their attraction while she was still in New York?

  She was not experienced, she’d admitted as much that day in his office, but he could ensure she remained a virgin for her future husband. There were plenty of other ways to give and receive pleasure beyond intercourse. He longed to experience them all with her.

  Everyone departed. He nodded at the two men on their way out, shaking hands but not speaking, and then he was alone with Eva.

  As soon as the door closed, she dropped onto the sofa and blew out a long breath. “That was utterly exhausting.”

  “No,” he said and took the seat next to her. “It was absolutely remarkable. You’ve worked a miracle, Eva.”

  Her lips twisted into a self-satisfied, smug smile. “I did, didn’t I? It must pain you to admit it after you doubted me so fiercely.”

  “Not as much as you might expect, actually.”

  She leaned in to select a tiny strawberry tart. “And why is that?”

  “Because I had every confidence in you and Carew.”

  She snorted and then took a bite of the dessert. Her eyes closed on a moan, leaning back in what he recognized as extreme pleasure, similar to when she’d climaxed in his cabin. A sizzling rush of electricity raced through his blood, along his spine.

  Soon, he swore. Very soon.

  “I’d like to take you out to celebrate.”

  She sat straighter. “Take me out? What does that mean?”

  He hadn’t decided yet, but he knew the usual tricks to entice a woman would fail with Eva. She wouldn’t care for flowers or chocolates. Nor did she seem the type for opera or ice cream. This would require creativity. “It means I take you out on the town. That we spend time together in mutually desired company.”

  “Why would I desire your company? I thought we agreed to remain friends.”

  Not any longer. He’d moved past friends and was swiftly headed straight for lovers. “I’d like to renegotiate the meaning of that word.”

  Her gaze narrowed as she studied his face. She put down the rest of her tart and dusted off her hands. “I think you’ll need to take up with the etymologists, then, not me.”

  “There’s where you’re wrong. You are precisely the person with whom I’d like to negotiate. What sort of friends are we, Eva?”

  “Friends that work together and then travel separately to our own homes at the end of the day.”

  He was close enough on the sofa to easily reach her, yet he held back. She needed coaxing, but this time without spirits or a life-threatening storm. She had to arrive at the decision on her own, connect the points herself, as only her analytical brain could. That meant going slowly and explaining what he had in mind. Setting parameters and sharing expectations.

  “Not good enough. I want to be close friends.” He dropped his voice to an intimate tone. “The sort of friends who, on occasion, might not go home separately.”

  She swallowed hard, the delicate lines of her throat working as a flush spread over her lovely pale skin. “That didn’t take long. We agreed to be friends only a minute ago.”

  “Slightly more than a minute, but even so, I believe in adapting when a situation no longer suits my needs.”

  “Is this where I ask about your needs—which results in the exchange of a litany of innuendos and verbal jabs?”

  He grinned, wide and huge without a single ounce of shame. “If you like.”

  Her hands slapped her knees in exasperation. “I don’t know what to make of this. You confound me at every turn. Furthermore, I cannot worry about your needs when I’m struggling to discover my own.”

  “I feel the same, but I cannot stop staring at you, thinking about you. Remembering that night on the ship.”

  Her gaze slid away and she shifted on the sofa. Yet she didn’t move, and he thought she might be intrigued.

  His guess was confirmed when she asked, “And what, exactly, are you proposing?”

  “A bevy of delights, my lady.” Reaching out, he touched a fingertip to the inside of her delicate wrist, making a circle over the soft skin. He loved a woman’s wrist, the fine bones and narrow width that were distinctly feminine, and Eva’s was particularly lovely. He gave the briefest caress over the supple, bare surface, and suddenly longed to press his mouth there, to sweep his tongue over that spot. To bathe it, trace the faint bluish veins, and discover if the nerves were as sensitive as he hoped. “Only this time, you’ll be entirely sober.”

  A small tremor went through her and she licked her lips. “It’s a terrible idea. I am not . . .”

  Interested? Attracted to you? A host of words skated through his mind to complete that sentence when she left it unfinished. “You are not . . . ?”

  “Willing to risk everything.” She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. “If you think to manage me by—”

  “Stop.” He slid his hand up to cup her jaw, tilting her head until he found her eyes. “I’ll not mix the two. This would remain completely separate from whatever happens with the hotel before your father arrives.” Dipping his head, he brought his nose to her cheek, inhaling the soap and sweet femininity that clung to her skin. “And I have no doubt you’ll likely be the one managing me.”

  Her body swayed and he sensed triumph. He angled his mouth to her earlobe, which he gently bit between his teeth. She gasped, the breathy sound racing through him like fire. “In fact, I’m beginning to fear the lengths to which I’ll go for another night with you.”

  “I cannot.” Her chest rose and fell swiftly, yet she shook her head. “My future career—not to mention my reputation—could suffer for this.”

  “I won’t let it, Eva. I swear, I’ll protect you with everything I have—by any means fair or foul.”

  “Not even you are able to control that much, Phillip. If we are discovered . . . No, I cannot take the risk.” She rose and cr
ossed to the middle of the room, her arms wrapping around her waist.

  “All I’m asking is for you to think on it. We could meet somewhere completely private. No one ever need know.”

  “No, not even then. I stand to lose in this arrangement.”

  He came to his feet. Two steps brought him to her side, where he bent to whisper in her ear, letting his lips brush the soft skin of the outer edge. “You’re wrong. We both win.”

  Leaving her to think it over, he left the room without a backward glance.

  She was contemplating an affair with her employer.

  Well, more like attempting to talk herself out of having an affair. It was a terrible idea, for many reasons, yet Eva couldn’t get the picture out of her head. Sweaty limbs, deep kisses, his large, rough hands sweeping over her bare skin . . . Her breasts grew heavy imagining what a night together might be like.

  And what of her career? She’d never let a man distract her before, not even her three fiancés. Was she ready to throw away all she’d worked for on a few kisses? Intimacy would complicate her relationship with him, and she would undoubtedly be the one to suffer in the end. He could even go so far as to discharge her or refuse to let her on the construction site. And then she and her father would be destitute.

  She should say no.

  And yet . . .

  Curiosity was killing her, the cause of many lost hours of sleep. A bevy of delights, my lady. Heavens, those words sent chills down her spine—even in the blazing summer sun.

  As a result, she was distracted and restless. Anxious and uncertain. This should be the most exciting time of her life, in a new city, a new country, overseeing the largest, most prestigious project of her father’s career. Instead, she was ruining it by pining over a man.

  What was wrong with her?

  Giving herself a strong mental shake, she continued her stroll about the perimeter of the construction site. The foundation should be completed in another few weeks. Milliken’s crew still used the occasional blast of dynamite, with woven steel mats used to muffle the sound, while steam shovels created piles of rubble and dirt to be loaded into carts. It was the fastest excavation she’d ever seen, but efficient, too.

  As she navigated through several high piles of debris, she decided to start on her other project, the one for Mrs. Mansfield. At least then she would have more to do. Keep her mind off Phillip and on important matters, like her future. Perhaps she’d travel to Newport tomorrow—

  A rumbling sound erupted on her left and her head snapped up. Stone, dirt, and wood began to slide from the giant mountain beside her, the pieces shifting and moving, tumbling toward the spot where she stood. In the blink of an eye, she hiked her skirts, pivoted, and dashed out of the way. Thunder echoed behind her, dirt swirling to sting her eyes as she hurried to put distance between herself and the heap.

  When she reached safety, she turned to inspect the destruction. The ground where she’d just been walking was now buried under bits of wood, earth, and stone. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. Heavens, that was close.

  “Miss!” One of the laborers arrived, his dirt-streaked face lined with concern. “Miss, are you hurt?”

  She lifted a hand. “I am fine. A bit rattled, but fine.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. You could’ve seriously been hurt.”

  Studying the collapsed pile, she could only agree. “Thankfully I have quick feet. Have you seen Mr. Milliken?”

  “Um.” The worker scratched his jaw and studied the chaos stretched out before him. “Oh, here he comes now.” He pointed to the familiar burly figure hurrying in their direction, two other men flanking him.

  Eva straightened her spine, wiping any residual relief or panic off her face. Show no fear. “Mr. Milliken, may I have a word?”

  “What happened?” the general contractor barked. “Why are you knocking over my debris piles?”

  Eva glanced at the other men. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us.”

  They all turned to Milliken, who gave a jerk of his chin and the men departed. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. When would men stop being so dismissive of women? “You need to better brace these piles. Someone will be hurt.”

  “My men know better than to poke around these piles. I’ve never had anyone buried under rubble on any site before and this should be no different, if all things had remained the same.”

  “If I weren’t here, you mean.”

  “As I’ve said, a construction site is no place for a woman.”

  “Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear on several occasions. I am, unfortunately for you, not leaving, so you’d best accustom yourself to the idea.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, no doubt attempting to intimidate her. “I’ll be speaking with Mr. Mansfield about this.”

  “Please do. In the meantime, I want these piles better supported. Or else I’ll be speaking with Mr. Mansfield . . . and I think he’ll agree that safety on the site is more critical than gender.”

  Milliken gave her his back and stomped away. Eva blew out a long breath and decided she needed a cup of tea. No, a glass of sherry . . . or stronger.

  She began the long journey toward the exit, ready to put this day behind her. Stares followed her but she ignored them and kept walking. It wasn’t the first—or tenth—time she’d been made to feel an oddity. As if women with ambition belonged in cages in the traveling shows, where visitors could obtain peeks for a penny apiece.

  A shiny brougham waited at the curb outside the site. For a brief second she considered it might be Nora, but then long legs clad in navy pin-striped trousers emerged . . . and her heart thumped hard in her chest.

  Phillip unfolded from the carriage, his brawny shoulders angling to fit through the door. The dying sunlight turned his hair a golden color so befitting this crown prince of New York. He smiled as he strolled toward her. “Just the woman I am looking for.”

  She squinted at him, using a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “Here to see today’s progress?”

  “No, I came to see you.”

  Her stomach dipped and twirled with giddiness at the words, but she tried to remain distant. She could not allow this man to affect her any more than he already had. “How did you guess I was here?”

  His lips quirked. “Where else would you be? From what Milliken tells me, you never leave.”

  Of course Milliken would say that. “Which is the reason you hired me, you realize.”

  “The reason I hired your father, yes,” he clarified, a not so subtle reminder of who was really in charge. He clasped his hands behind his back. “So if you are always here, then when are you touring our fair city and seeing all those buildings on your list?”

  With the project just underway she hadn’t even considered it. Her time in New York wasn’t to be spent as a tourist but to oversee the hotel construction. “I cannot gad about the city right now. Perhaps after the foundation is—”

  “Nonsense. I knew you’d say that.” He took her arm and the feel of his fingers gently digging into her flesh caused a shiver to race down her spine. “Come with me. I have a surprise for you.”

  “Phillip, I really should return home. I’m exhausted.”

  “No excuses, Eva. This will be worth it, trust me. You’ll find this terribly exciting—and besides, you owe me a night on the town.”

  Without giving her the chance to resist, he helped her up and then had a quick word with his driver. He settled inside, his massive shoulders taking up most of the room in the brougham, her side pressed tightly to his. Heat poured off his body, wrapping around her. There was no escaping him, no way to put distance between them.

  She fixed her eyes on the passing buildings and tried to remain calm. Aloof. This was an impossible feat, however, considering the strange restlessness that presented itself only in his presence. All she could think of was burrowing into his side and kissing him again.

  God above, the man was turning her into a wanton.


  “Are you not even curious where I’m taking you?”

  “It appears we are headed south. And there’s no use badgering you for a location because you won’t ruin the surprise.”

  He chuckled, a rich, deep sound that wound its way through her stomach, turning her insides to warm jelly. “I hadn’t realized you knew me so well. Should I be flattered?”

  No flirting. “Hardly. You should be embarrassed over your transparent shallowness.”

  “Is that it? Well, then tell me.” His voice dropped to a seductive rasp. “What I am thinking right now?”

  She didn’t dare look at him. “I think I have an idea.” She dragged in a ragged breath. “And it is definitely not professional.”

  “You would be right.”

  “I haven’t agreed to anything.”

  He raised his hands as if to show he was harmless. “I am aware and this outing is not meant to pressure you.” She peeked up through her lashes and caught his mouth curving in the most delicious manner. “Not much anyway.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. This version of Phillip, the charming bon vivant, was hard to resist. “Does this stubbornness serve you well with other women?”

  “Never had one resist me, so I couldn’t say.”

  “Then I am happy to be the first.”

  “Do not worry. I’ll wear you down.”

  If he acted like this, she did not doubt it. This man could sweep her off her feet if she wasn’t careful.

  But there were too many secrets between them, all that she must keep hidden from him. Guilt weighted her down, a concrete block that only grew heavier as time went on. It taught him a valuable lesson, that people are often not what they seem. Eva winced at the memory of his mother’s words. She hated lying, believe it or not. Yet circumstances made deception necessary in this case.

  He’ll never forgive you.

  In the end, it didn’t matter. She was here to complete the hotel. That was all.