Desire by Design

by Paula Altenburg

  Eve’s cheeks stung with heat. “The hotel was on my way,” she said, willing him to spontaneously combust. The twitch of a muscle under Matt’s jaw indicated he was trying to control a grin of his own.

  “I see my husband’s hooked up with a colleague,” Marion said, excusing herself. “Never leave two healthcare specialists from the same research study alone at a party. They’ll be talking about infectious diseases all evening if I don’t go put a stop to it.”

  “We’ll find time to chat later,” Bob said to her. He shifted his drink to his other hand and turned back to Eve.

  Her fingers curled around her wineglass. She vowed she was not going to let him talk her into anything, but he had a way of getting what he wanted that was truly astounding. In a previous lifetime, he’d no doubt sold snake oil to unsuspecting settlers.

  “Be honest,” Bob said as he clapped a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Now that you’ve met him, you have to agree that getting Mattie to do the design for City Hall is a real coup. He’ll set a precedent for modernizing this city, and before you know it, we’ll be on the international map.”

  Matt lifted his eyebrows. Well? His amused look challenged her. Am I a coup or what?

  “We’re already on the international map,” Eve said, trying to ignore Matt’s efforts to make her smile back at him. It was no easy feat—that was one killer smile he possessed.

  “We have one of the largest and deepest natural harbors along the Eastern seaboard. And for the record,” she added, “I don’t think the city needs to be modernized. More and more historic sites are being lost to glass and steel projects with no character. Glass and steel certainly have their place, but if we don’t protect our downtown district, it will no longer have the atmosphere that makes it such an attraction to tourists and movie companies.”

  Bob gave a low chuckle, as if she’d said something cute. Eve had the horrible fear he was about to pat her on the head. If he did, she’d be forced to lay him out flat at his own reception. She tolerated him calling her Evie, but she had boundaries.

  “Sweetheart, there’s more to attracting tourism and movie companies to the downtown core than a few old buildings.”

  Eve refocused the conversation. “What about the budget?” she asked. “Sullivan Construction has already won the contract. Technically Matt works for us now, and our budget dictates his plans will have to be a bit more practical than he’s used to.”

  “Excuse me for interrupting, but my plans are always practical.” Matt’s deceptively soft voice rumbled above her head, enveloping Eve’s insides in a sudden flash of heat. He had a voice like polished oak. Solid, but smooth. “Every inch of space is both usable and aesthetic.”

  “But can you make sure it’s affordable, too?” she challenged, determined not to forget where her loyalties lay.

  “That’s what I like about you, Evie.” Bob nodded a greeting to a cadaverous man in a dark suit walking by. “You’re so passionate when it comes to money. Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?”

  Eve set her untouched drink on a nearby table, the blood pounding in her temples like the low, slow throbbing of a drum. She’d show him just how passionate she could be when the necessity arose. She was tired of Bob not taking her seriously. “I get paid to worry about budget money.”

  “Uncle Bob.” Matt’s firm hand took possession of Eve’s punching arm. “Do you mind if I borrow Eve for a few moments?”

  “Not at all,” Bob said, already scanning the room like a shark sniffing out blood in the water. “You kids go have fun.”

  Matt hustled her down a short hall, through an open set of sliding glass doors, and onto a small flagstone patio cobwebbed in shadows.

  “In most circles, it’s considered impolite to punch your host in the nose,” he said, once they were outside. He sounded amused, but it was hard for Eve to tell in the dark.

  “I wasn’t going to punch Bob,” she protested, ninety-nine percent certain she was telling the truth. “I was only going to give him my opinion.”

  “That can be just as bloody, sometimes. I thought you might want to think about it for a few moments.” He released her arm as if reluctant to do so, his fingers lingering long enough to make Eve’s mouth go dry. “If you still want to give him your opinion after that, hey, I’ll even hold him down for you.”

  “Bob could use a good opinion every once in a while.” Eve pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know why I let him get to me,” she nearly growled.

  “I’m sure he gets to a lot of people,” Matt said.

  “Now there’s an understatement.”

  Eve dropped onto one of the stone benches, the sweet scent from a mock orange bush drifting on the fresh evening air that whispered over her bare skin. Light streamed through large windows, bathing a section of the small patio in a gentle glow. A leafy grape arbor hid them from sight if anyone should happen to glance outside. Matt settled beside her, stretching out his long legs. She leaned forward and propped her chin on her hand, then tilted her head sideways to look up at him. A jolt of awareness tightened her chest in a way that was hard to ignore, but Eve tried her best. She doubted they shared the same sense of humor. He was far from spontaneous. She suspected he was more than a little uptight, in fact.

  And they were colleagues. She wasn’t planning to let attraction overrule common sense, not when it came to her work, but being friendly would get her more cooperation than acting crazy. Matt wasn’t to blame for the things his uncle said or did. Or what Claude had done, either.

  “Since we’re going to be working together, there’s something you should know about me. I have a quick temper,” she said.

  He clapped a hand over his heart. “I would never have guessed.”

  That made her laugh. “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

  The last of her anger wafted away. She shouldn’t let Bob’s cavalier attitude irritate her so much. She was, indeed, passionate about her work, and these days, it was all the passion she seemed to possess. She wiggled her toes inside her narrow shoes, keenly aware of the male presence beside her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been alone in the dark with a man, and just like that, Eve realized the dangerous position she’d put herself in. She wasn’t ready for another man in her life.

  And this was most definitely the wrong man for her even if she were. Matt was a rich and famous architect. She’d be nothing more than entertainment to someone like him. She had more self-respect than that, and she’d earned it the hard way.

  She eased away from him so that they weren’t sitting so close.

  “Uncle Bob’s not so bad once you get to know him,” Matt said.

  Eve had known Bob for three years, and so far, she hadn’t seen any real improvement. He could be charming, yes, but he never did anything without a motive. Quite frankly, he made her head tired.

  “Why did he insist Sullivan Construction hire you, anyway?” she asked. She couldn’t see what would be in this for Matt. He certainly wasn’t doing it for the glory. Or the money. “You must have more important projects you could be working on.”

  “Yes, but this project is important to my uncle.” Eve could feel the affection in his smooth voice. In fact, she felt it all the way to her toes. “He’s been good to my mother and me. I’m grateful to be given the opportunity to do something for him in return.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. “But you’re working for the contractor,” Eve felt compelled to remind him.

  Matt studied the tips of his shoes with casual disinterest. “So I’ve heard.”

  “And I control the budget.”

  “I keep hearing that, too.”

  “Since those two things are true,” she persisted, “your design will have to meet with my approval before it goes to the client.”

  Matt tapped the fingers of one hand against his pant leg. He turned his attention from the tips of his shoes to her face.

  “Why didn’t you just come right out and tell me that you did
the preliminary design when I introduced myself?” he asked.

  The question caught her off guard. Someone must have told him.

  “That’s not what this is about,” she said.

  “I think it is.” His fingers ceased their tapping. “There was nothing wrong with your design, Eve. It was good. But the truth is, the client wants something different.” He blew out a sigh. “We both know that the one with the final say on the new design will be the architect. That happens to be me. So, why don’t you tell me what your real objection to working with me is?”

  He paused a beat. Heat entered his unwavering gaze. He edged closer, filling the small space she’d created between them.

  “Because I’m starting to think that it’s personal.”

  Chapter Four

  He had hoped to get a chance to apologize to her this evening for dismissing her design. Instead, he’d ended up pointing out, once again, how his professional designation trumped hers.

  But he did think this was personal, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Aside from that one little blunder, he’d been nothing but friendly. Maybe she was transferring her annoyance with his uncle—and yes, he knew Uncle Bob could be annoying—onto him.

  Sounds from the gathering inside drifted around them in the moonlight as he waited for her reaction.

  “I don’t even know you,” Eve said. “But I know your work. Even if the city does want to hire a professional, I think you have to agree that you’re the wrong one for this job.” She stood and smoothed silky fabric down over her slim hips. “Excuse me. I need another drink.”

  “Not so fast.” Matt caught her hand before she could walk away. He, too, rose to his feet, then had to dip his head in order to see her face as she looked away. “This is a small project in an even smaller town. If it’s not personal, and we’re going to be working together for the next few months, then it might as well be on friendly terms. I still want to see your ideas.”

  She eased her fingers from his grasp. “This might be a small project to you, but to me, it’s important. But don’t worry. You won’t need to do me any favors. I have my own reputation in this city. Small as it is.”

  He had handled this badly. All her contradictions, and passion for her work, intrigued him. But he still thought there was more to her objection to him than a dislike for his work.

  “I’m not doing you a favor,” he said. “I’m always open to ideas.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate the opportunity. It’s very generous of you.”

  The words were polite but hardly brimming with enthusiasm. Matt tried not to grin. At least she wasn’t going to be stroking his ego, which was kind of refreshing. Not to mention, challenging.

  She turned to the patio doors, paused as if about to say something more, then peered through a crack in the sheer curtains.

  “Oh, nuts. Here comes Connor’s wife, Lena,” she whispered. “The last time she caught me at one of these functions, I spent two hours listening to her talk about the horrors of breastfeeding and the agony of having an older husband who doesn’t pay enough attention to her. If you really want to do me a favor, tell her you haven’t seen me.”

  With that, Eve climbed over one of the stone benches and ducked behind a low cedar hedge.

  Matt’s mouth dropped open.

  The glass doors slid back and an elegant, black-haired Latina woman stepped onto the flagstones. He vaguely recalled having been introduced to her at some point in time.

  “Excuse me,” she said. “I thought I saw Eve come out here.”

  There was a hint of a question to her fluid, heavily accented words that should have warned him, but Matt’s attention was focused elsewhere. His eyes darted to the bushes, unsure of the proper protocol for this type of scenario.

  “Eve went to powder her nose,” he said, feeling like an idiot. Then his sense of humor took over. “But she should be back any moment. You’re welcome to wait with me if you’d like.”

  The bushes behind him rustled at that. He was beginning to enjoy this—but just a little.

  “I would like that very much.” Lena Sullivan moved a little closer—too close—and it suddenly occurred to Matt that the situation was potentially even more awkward than he’d first thought. He hoped he’d mistaken the delight in her tone. “I have been wanting to catch you alone from the moment I saw you.”

  Nope. It seemed he hadn’t mistaken anything.

  “Oh?” Matt didn’t know what else to say. Was Eve hearing any of this? If so, she could at least have the decency to help him out.

  Lena moved closer still. “Yes.” She placed a hand on his chest, and he swallowed, hard. “I would imagine you and I have a lot in common.”

  He did his best to sound discouraging. “Really?”

  Light fingers began to draw circles on his shirtfront. “You are alone in a strange city, and no doubt lonely. I am alone in a strange country where nobody understands me.” Lena’s voice trembled. “And I am definitely lonely.”

  Matt’s mind raced. The woman was hitting on him, and he had to do something to make her stop. This was a prime reason why he most definitely wasn’t looking for a trophy wife. That was the trouble with trophies—sooner or later, they landed with the competition.

  “Eve should be back any moment,” he repeated, inching backward. “She’s a jealous woman, Lena. I’d hate to have her misinterpret the fact that you and I are out here alone together.”

  Lena’s hands dropped to her sides, much to his relief. Her accent grew more pronounced, although he suspected that was an affectation. Most men likely found it charming.

  “I had no idea you were a couple. Eve, she does not normally bother with the men.”

  “No?” That was nice to know…although Eve probably didn’t bother with men because she scared them off.

  “I thought this was a business event,” Lena added. “Connor sometimes asks her to introduce the V-I-Ps around on behalf of the company.”

  “It’s definitely not strictly business between me and Eve,” he said.

  Lena heaved her impressive breasts. “I would hate to get you into trouble with her.” She gave his tie a little tug. “Maybe I will see you later?”

  She sauntered off with an elegant sway to her hips and a smoldering glance over her shoulder. Matt waited until he was certain she was gone before crossing to the bench Eve had hurdled.

  “Get back up here,” he grumbled, scanning the long shadows. “I want to talk to you.”

  Eve’s voice came from out of the darkness. “I’d be angry with you,” she said with an air of satisfaction, “except you got exactly what you deserved. ‘You’re welcome to wait with me if you’d like,’” she parroted, then mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Lena can’t resist the good-looking ones.”

  At least she thought he was good-looking. That meant one thing had gone right so far this evening.

  “You could have warned me about her before you did your disappearing act,” Matt said. He placed one knee on the bench and peered into the bushes. “Would you get up here where I can see you?”

  The bushes rustled again. “I can’t.”

  Matt wondered how long they had before someone else wandered outside and found them like this. He was torn between fascination and maintaining his dignity. She didn’t seem all that concerned about hers.

  “What do you mean, you can’t?”

  “I mean,” Eve explained in a matter-of-fact tone, “that my dress is snagged on a twig, and I’m trying to get it free without tearing anything.”

  “Let me give you a hand.” Leaning over the bench in the direction of her voice, he parted the bushes and could just make out Eve’s form in the darkness. The bushes lurched as she tugged at her dress.

  “Don’t do that,” he warned, stretching out a hand, his fingertips brushing against the fabric. He leaned a little farther, trying to get a grip. “You’re going to make things worse. I think I can get it if I just—”

  He moved forward o
ne inch too far and tumbled headfirst into his uncle’s fragrant shrubbery. Matt rolled, spit out a mouthful of dirt, and spared a fleeting thought for the kind of mulch his uncle’s gardener might use. Whatever it was, he hoped a dry cleaner could get the smell off his suit.

  Then, Eve burst into soft peals of laughter that made him forget all about Lena, the crowd, the threat of discovery, and even the prickly underbrush jabbing through his clothing.

  She had the most incredible laugh. It wasn’t a polite little party laugh, either, the kind he was used to hearing from women. It came from deep inside her, too big for her tiny frame, like she’d explode if she didn’t let it out. It invited anyone who heard it to laugh along with her, and Matt felt every inch of his body respond to it.

  She didn’t seem to care that her dress was most likely ruined or that her hair was a mess. And it was obvious she hadn’t given any thought as to how they were going to explain this to any of the other people present. Matt couldn’t help but be charmed, and maybe a little bit envious. Everything she did, she did with passion—he could tell that about her already. What would it be like to live life like that?

  That was when the situation really struck him. He was rolling around in his uncle’s shrubbery with a sexy new colleague in a peekaboo dress. A company code of ethics didn’t quite have this one covered. He wasn’t too sure what to do about it—or when he’d become such an old man.

  Because personally, he didn’t see how it would do any real harm.

  The night was warm, and the air was heavy with the threat of approaching rain. If they didn’t move soon they’d be mud wrestling, too.

  Still, he was no longer in any hurry to go anywhere. No one could see them even if they did come out on the patio. He figured this put them well past the first base of any relationship, professional or otherwise, and wondered if it would be inappropriate to kiss her.

  “You’re in luck,” he said. “Here’s your chance to get to know me better.”

  “I already know you suck at making excuses.” Laughter lingered in her voice. She caught his ribs with an elbow. “Who says ‘powder your nose’ anymore? What are you, ninety?”