She sighed, a hollow feeling in her tummy.
Principles were fine things, but she was awfully tired of going home to a lonely house in the evening.
“I’m not going to hold anything against an executive who wants to get married, if that’s what you think.”
Libby rolled her eyes. “As if your brother would let you.”
Neil regarded her curiously. “You think Kane and I are that different?”
“Like night and day.”
“Because he got married.”
“No.” She shook her head in exasperation. “Because he’s nice, and you’re…” Libby stopped, realizing if she’d sounded rude before, it would be nothing to calling him a smug, self-centered chauvinist with the compassion of a fence post.
Swallowing, she dropped into the chair behind her desk. He couldn’t seem to understand that the people who worked for O’Rourke Enterprises were people, not machines, with lives outside the company that were important to them.
“I’m what?”
The small twitch to Neil’s mouth suggested he had a good idea of what she’d almost called him. He sat on a chair himself and stretched out his legs. From head to toe he was the consummate executive—from his expensive suit to his ice-blue silk shirt and perfect tie. There was only one time she’d ever seen him in a less than immaculate state, and that was the night they’d almost…
She put a hasty brake on her thoughts. Okay, Neil could be charming when he wanted something, and he’d come very close to getting what he’d once wanted from her. It didn’t mean anything.
“Well?” he prompted. “What am I?”
“You’re just…different.”
“Different, as in ‘not nice.”’
“I didn’t say that,” she said, annoyed.
“You didn’t have to.” Neil told himself he should stop. This wasn’t the right way to start their new relationship as president and vice president, but he didn’t want to work with veiled hostility simmering between them—he’d take open warfare over that. For that matter, conflict could be very good for business.
“You said not to put words in your mouth, so don’t do it with me.”
Yet her cheeks pinkened, and he knew she felt guilty for whatever she’d been thinking—which just proved she hadn’t changed over the years.
Sweet.
Innocent.
With an interesting streak of temper. Rather like her hair, a rich silky brown with hints of hidden fire—it was still long, caught back in an attractive French braid, though small tendrils had escaped and framed her face.
Neil shifted in the chair. He didn’t have any business thinking her temper was interesting or not. Libby was off-limits. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the situation.
“Are you thinking about tying the knot, and are afraid my beliefs about marriage will be a problem?” he asked. “The company policy is clear—we’re a family-friendly business. So you have nothing to be concerned about, no matter what my personal feelings are on the issue.”
Libby stared in astonishment and he cursed his wayward tongue. He really hadn’t thought that much about her over the years, but now that she was going to be his vice president, all sorts of questions were banging around in his head.
Most of them were none of his concern.
And he certainly shouldn’t be wondering if the faint scent of vanilla drifting from her skin was a perfume, or some other bit of unique feminine chemistry. Hell, it wasn’t the least bit sophisticated, but on Libby the fragrance was fresh and light, without being cloying.
“No, I’m not thinking about ‘tying the knot’ as you put it,” she said. “I hate that phrase. It makes marriage sound like prison or some other type of captivity . Do you think Kane feels that way about being married to Beth?”
“Of course not.”
“Then let’s drop the subject. We’re supposed to be talking about the B and B proposal, remember?”
He remembered.
He rarely thought about anything but business, though his mother was doing her best to distract him with introductions to “nice young women.” Nice single women, of course. Having finally gotten two of her sons married, she wanted to see all her children taking a trip down the proverbial aisle, followed a few months later with the announcement that a baby was on the way.
Libby pulled a pen and pad of paper from a drawer. “How do you want to get started?”
“Give me a quick rundown on the project.”
She kept her spine straight, barely skimming the back of her chair. “The first active steps will be choosing sites and contacting historical societies for local history and background.”
“What?” Neil rocked forward in his chair. “We have to deal with hysterical societies?”
“That’s historical societies,” Libby corrected, the corners of her mouth twitching despite herself. Historical societies could be very passionate about their work, but she liked working with people who cared. “Of course we’ll have to talk with them, and consult with restoration experts and contractors. By the way, we should use local people as much as possible as part of the community development aspect of the project.”
He grimaced without looking particularly upset. “You mean we’ll be restoring old buildings that should have been demolished decades ago. I don’t suppose we could buy a bunch of existing bed-and-breakfast inns and slap our name on them?” he asked, a rueful humor in his voice.
She barely kept from rolling her eyes. Neil was so focused on the future, he couldn’t see the benefit to saving wonderful old survivors from the past.
Modern, that defined Neil O’Rourke.
Glitz, high finance, his world moving at lightning speed. If he went on vacation it was to five-star hotels in the most exotic and glamorous places, so bed-and-breakfast inns weren’t likely to interest him. He avoided ties that might slow him down—like a wife and children. The idea of spending a quiet evening at home would probably horrify him.
“I don’t suppose we can.” Libby handed him the file. “Why don’t you go over this on your own? I’ll come by your office at one this afternoon so we can discuss it.” Without waiting for acknowledgment, she headed for the door and stood by it, making it obvious she expected him to leave.
“Libby…”
She looked at his handsome face, and the same old shiver went through her tummy. Why did she have to be attracted to him? Wasn’t attraction supposed to be based on respect and liking, more than chemistry? She didn’t know Neil that well, but she didn’t like him, so it wasn’t logical the way her body responded whenever he walked into the room.
“Yes?”
“We should talk about what happened eleven years ago. Get everything said and out in the open.”
Her pulse surged. “That isn’t such a good idea.”
“Why not? Haven’t you wondered what would have happened if we hadn’t stopped that night?”
Only about a million times.
Not that it would have made any difference. According to the office gossip she couldn’t avoid, Neil’s idea of a long term relationship was a weekend in the Bahamas.
“There isn’t any point in discussing it,” she said.
“It’s getting in the way of us working together.”
“No, it isn’t,” Libby said.
It was true.
Their disastrous date, embarrassing as the memory might be, wasn’t the real reason they didn’t get along.
“Then what’s the problem?” Neil’s gray eyes had darkened, and his gaze moved deliberately over her. “Is it because I called you the virgin queen? I’ve never apologized for that, and I am sorry.”
He sounded sincere and Libby couldn’t control the flush rising in her cheeks…or the instinctive warmth sliding through her veins. “That has nothing to do with it. There are lots of reasons we don’t get along, but it’s mostly because we’re poles apart in the way we look at life.”
Because I’m a small town country girl and you�
��re a big city snob, she added silently. She didn’t like cities, fast nightlife, or the high-stakes gambles that Neil O’Rourke thrived upon. Dealing with Neil was like dealing with unstable dynamite—no matter how careful you were, in the end you got burned.
“Maybe. But there’s still an attraction between us.”
“I’m not attracted to you,” she denied instantly. “And if you’re attracted to me, it’s only because I said no. If we’d slept together I would have been old news before the week was out. You have the staying power of an amoeba.”
“Really? I’m told I have more stamina than most men.” His tone was so outrageously suggestive she wanted to scream.
“And like most men, all you ever think about is sex. If you ever had an honest-to-God tender emotion for a woman, I think you’d jump off a building just to get rid of it. Now get out.” Libby slammed the door behind him and stormed back to her desk.
Men.
They were the rottenest, most unreasonable creatures imaginable. She didn’t know why a woman would bother with them, except they were necessary to keep the human race going.
Chapter Two
Neil couldn’t keep a grin from splitting his face as he strode away.
Libby might be an innocent, but that unexpected temper was priceless. Of course, he shouldn’t have said he was still attracted to her. It just made things more complicated, but it was entertaining watching her blush and react so strongly.
No matter what she claimed, he wasn’t attracted to her just because she’d refused him. Absolutely not. He had his moments he wasn’t proud of, but he wasn’t that shallow and immature. He could keep things under control without actually doing anything about it.
“Any messages?” he asked his secretary.
“They’re on your desk, Mr. O’Rourke.” Margie turned back to her desk, avoiding his gaze.
He hesitated. “Is something wrong?”
“No, of course not.”
Neil waited, then decided not to say anything else. She was new and apparently having personal troubles, but he didn’t want to make either of them uncomfortable by asking too much.
“Thank you. I have an appointment with Libby Dumont at one this afternoon. Keep my schedule clear.”
“Yes, sir.”
Going into his office, he tossed the bed-and-breakfast file on his desk. “B and B’s,” he murmured, shaking his head as he swiftly scanned the pages.
After several hours of making notes and jotting down figures, Neil got up and stretched, realizing he’d worked through lunch again. He had to admit the bed-and-breakfast project had some interesting aspects, but what still boggled his mind was that Kane had promoted Libby Dumont. Vice president? She might be all right in a division that handled corporate giving, but new developments?
His brother was going soft in the head. Beth was a great wife and sister-in-law, but if that’s what falling in love did to you, the rest of the world could keep it.
Love did strange things to people.
Restless all at once, Neil paced around the room, then stood at the window and looked out at the Puget Sound. It was a rare, cloudless day in Seattle, the sun shining brightly on the water. A ferry chugged away from the shore, with seagulls soaring and swooping in the air above.
He usually tried not to think about how his father had given up the work he cherished—handcrafting fine wood furniture—to take a higher paying job in the forest industry. A job that eventually killed him, just to support a growing family.
There were too many tradeoffs to love and marriage, and Neil knew he was too selfish to make them. It was better to be honest with himself, than to get married and end up in a bitter divorce, making everyone miserable.
The phone on the desk rang. It was Margie, telling him that Libby was waiting for their appointment.
“Tell her to come in.”
Libby walked inside with an I’m-going-to-be-nice-to-the-jackass-if-it-kills-me expression on her face.
“Good afternoon, Mr. O’Rourke.”
He looked at her narrowly. That “Mr. O’Rourke” nonsense would have to end. Sooner or later he’d get her to call him Neil. It was a challenge, and he loved challenges.
“Good afternoon, Miss Dumont,” he mimicked back. “You do know my first name, don’t you?”
“Of course,” she said evenly.
“Then use it.”
“I’m not the only employee who calls you Mr. O’Rourke,” Libby murmured.
Neil frowned. Come to think of it, she was right.
“But just your subordinates,” she added. “So you have nothing to worry about. I mean, it’s a little stuffy, but who cares when you’re in charge, right?”
“I’m not a snob, Libby. I’ve never insisted on that kind of formality,” he said, stung.
“But you’ve never invited us peons to call you Neil, either.”
“I did this morning and it didn’t do any good. You still insist on using Mr. O’Rourke,” Neil snapped. “And nobody’s a peon at O’Rourke Enterprises. You damn well know that.”
Libby took a breath. She couldn’t believe she’d let her tongue run away with her that morning, and now she was doing it again. After a lifetime of being a well-behaved preacher’s daughter, watching what she said and trying to be tactful no matter what the situation, she’d totally lost it.
Of course, by all accounts, tact wasn’t high on Neil O’Rourke’s list of priorities.
“Maybe we should just talk about the B and B proposal,” she said quickly.
“Suits me. Where do you think we should start looking for properties? I’ve made some notes, but I should hear your ideas about it before we go ahead.”
Libby wanted to say Endicott, her hometown. If a community ever needed development, it was Endicott. But that would convince him more than ever that she was too sentimental to be “executive” material.
“We could write various historical societies and ask if they know of any likely houses that would meet our purpose,” she suggested instead.
Neil shook his head. “It’s bad enough we have to talk to them at all, but you’ll get them up in arms before we even start,” he declared.
“They might decide to work with us, you know. For the chance of saving a piece of history.”
“Sure, and I believe in leprechauns.”
Libby doubted Neil had ever believed in something so whimsical, even as a boy.
“Do you have a better suggestion?” she asked.
“Yes. We could assign a team to scout locations. Other teams can work on acquisitions and restoration.”
Her chin lifted. “Well, that certainly has the personal touch Kane and Beth have in mind for the project.”
Neil glared. “Fine, then we’ll do it together. All of it. The two of us, every step of the way. That should have a personal enough touch to suit you.”
Swell.
She really wanted to spend more time with him—about as much as she wanted to slam her hand in a car door. It was more opportunity to say something foolish, something he’d laugh about. She was still squirming over the things she’d said earlier, making it sound as if just thinking about sex was a terrible sin.
Libby thought about sex.
She thought about it a lot.
Actually, sometimes sex was all she could think of, though she usually tried to blame it on hormones and being that time of the month. But she wanted to be with someone she loved, who loved her, someone who wanted to hold her during the night instead of calculating the fastest way out the door the minute his breathing slowed.
That someone wasn’t Neil O’Rourke.
He wanted success, power, and a life of travel and accomplishment, equating marriage to sacrifice. Sacrifice. No woman in her right mind wanted a man who considered her a sacrifice, no matter how good-looking he might be. It wasn’t worth the heartache.
And she didn’t even know why she was thinking about it except she’d never reacted to any man more strongly than Neil.
Blast.
It wasn’t fair that he could turn her inside out with-out even knowing he’d done it. She’d gone for months at a time without thinking about the man, and then only in passing, but now her head was filled with wayward thoughts.
Maybe it was knowing he wasn’t going anywhere. This time she was stuck with him.
“A historical bed-and-breakfast line wasn’t my idea,” she said, trying to sound calm. “You don’t have to be annoyed with me for wanting to do things the way Kane asked.”
“Whatever. Just stay here,” Neil ordered, getting up and stomping out.
“Stay?” Libby scowled at his empty chair.
She wasn’t a golden retriever he could order to stay put. Then she shrugged, deciding she’d have to pick her battles carefully when it came to Neil. Otherwise she’d never stop arguing with the man, being as he was the most annoying person on the planet.
After a few minutes he returned with a load of phone books in his arms.
“I got these from the secretarial pool,” he said, dropping them in a heap on the couch. “We’ll go through them and start making calls to real estate agents about likely properties.
Libby lifted one of the dog-eared phone books in disbelief. The thing was eight years old. Hadn’t Neil ever heard of the Internet? The information highway loaded with helpful items like up-to-date phone numbers? He must have dug these out of a back cabinet somebody had forgotten.
A bubble of laughter struggled for release in her throat.
He had to be totally rattled, beyond thinking clearly. They hadn’t even talked about what towns to start in, but his first course of action was to bring in some ancient phone books and randomly start contacting real estate agents?
“Start calling,” Neil said. “That’s a separate phone line over by the couch.”
Within seconds he was talking to an agent, crisply barking out his “needs” and asking that a list of suitable properties be faxed immediately.
She followed suit, glancing at him from time to time, and realizing that maybe his plan wasn’t daft after all. It could be more organized, but at least it had a personal touch.
At one point Neil smiled so warmly that Libby was startled. Then her gaze narrowed. From the bits of conversation she could catch, he was obviously talking to a woman who was doing her best to flirt.
The Bachelor Boss (O'Rourke Family 3) Page 2