JASON DISAPPEARED up the loft stairs, leaving Lauren with one thought. Thank God he’d gone to put on a shirt, because his bare chest was a distraction she didn’t need or want. She’d taken in his muscled forearms and the dark sprinkling of hair that tapered into the waistband of his jeans and her mouth had grown dry. She knew what lay below those jeans.
Now she had a chance to shore up her defenses. Business first. Last. Only.
She glanced around the room, noticing the fallen ladder, paint tray and a sullen-looking dog with floppy ears who lay beside both. “Hey there, what’s your name?” she asked as she knelt down beside him and patted his head.
The telephone on Jason’s desk rang and the answering machine picked up on the second ring. “Corwin Contractors, leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible,” Jason’s deep voice said, followed by a long beep.
“Hey, it’s Greg. I can’t thank you enough for trading me the Dunning house for turning down the Perkins job.”
Lauren heard her last name and rose to her feet, paying close attention to the rest of the message.
“I’m hoping to bag some of the landmark restorations due around here and this job ought to help. I owe you one.” He paused and Lauren thought he’d hang up, but there was more. “Good luck with your lady,” he added before disconnecting the call.
Jason had sabotaged her opportunity to hire Greg Charlton, Lauren thought, and her blood pressure spiked. She now had no doubt he’d done the same thing with Mark Miller. No wonder both men had been unable to take on her small project.
Of all the nerve.
Footsteps sounded as Jason came down the stairs.
He’d pulled on a long-sleeved navy sweatshirt, but his feet were bare, which she found ridiculously sexy.
He hit the bottom step and came to a halt. “I take it you heard that?” He pointed to the answering machine on the desk.
“Rhetorical question. I’m not deaf.” She clasped her hands in front of her, squeezing them tight, feeling the blood flow nearly stop.
She took one look at his handsome face, and the words just toppled off her tongue. “Just tell me why. Why do you want to work beside me so badly? Ten years ago you left without so much as a word, and now after one night you’re manipulating people to get this job?” She whirled away, frustrated and embarrassed she’d admitted so much.
He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest until his body heated her from the outside in. She struggled not to melt back into him and enjoy the sensations, but she sensed a losing battle. Just as she’d known it would be.
“How?” Jason asked her.
“How what?”
“How did you expect me to get in touch with you?” he asked, his breath warm in her ear. “Your grandmother found out about us, packed you up and sent you away. One day you were just gone. It wasn’t like you left a forwarding address.”
“How did you find out I was gone?” Lauren asked.
“Your grandmother came by and took great pleasure in letting me know I’d never see you again.”
Lauren’s stomach cramped at that. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He shrugged, leaning his chin against her head. “It’s not your fault. Now answer my question. How did you expect me to find you?”
She turned. “From the letters I wrote you…” Her voice trailed off as she caught the stunned expression on his face. “You didn’t get any letters, did you?”
He shook his head, the regret in his expression as obvious as the pain she’d been through all those years ago.
“I’d lay odds my grandmother intercepted your mail at the post office.” Her reach had been that far, her deviousness that deep. Lauren drew a calming breath. “It doesn’t matter now anyway.”
Even if he’d received her letters, she had no way of knowing whether he’d have waited for her. If his feelings had been as serious as hers.
She was wrong, Jason thought. It mattered. He just didn’t know how much. What would he have done differently if he’d known where to find her? If he’d known she still wanted him and he hadn’t been just a brief summer fling she’d forgotten about as soon as she’d been sent home?
He shook his head at the unanswered questions, knowing too well how futile it was to try to change the past.
He was better off focusing on the future. “If that’s true, if it doesn’t matter, then you should have no problem hiring me for your construction project.” He brushed her hair off her shoulder, sliding his fingers down the long strands.
The silky sensation shot through his body as if he were stroking her bare skin.
“If we’re going to work together, we need to have boundaries.” Her voice shook, telling him his touch affected her, too. “You shouldn’t have manipulated me to get this job.”
“I tried asking you outright,” he reminded her. “You turned me down.” He shot her a sheepish, apologetic grin.
“That doesn’t excuse your underhanded dealings,” she said, trying to sound stern.
And failing. A cute smile pulled at her lips.
Jason knew how to push to get what he wanted. His persistence had paved the way for him to win successive snowboarding championships until he’d been derailed. He knew Lauren had come here because she was out of options, but he didn’t want to force her. He wanted to make her acquiescence as easy as possible.
“Look, if it’s any consolation I was going to tell you eventually. I’m not big on secrets. I just wanted an in, something you weren’t about to give me. So can’t we just move on from here? What do you say?”
She finally shrugged. “I say we get to work.” She extended her hand and he grasped it.
On contact, white-hot darts of desire licked at his veins.
“Not so fast,” she said, throwing the equivalent of cold water over him.
She attempted to slide her hand out of his grasp, but he held on tight.
“What is it?” he asked.
“You have to agree to my rules.”
“And what would those be?” he asked, amused.
“All work and no play. So do we have an agreement?”
He burst out laughing. Did she honestly believe they could work together and not act on their crazy attraction?
“Something funny?” she asked.
He shook his head, sobering fast. “There’s nothing remotely amusing about that rule,” he said.
“I agree. So?”
He swallowed a groan.
What choice did he have if he wanted entry into her life? He also wanted entry into her body again, but he was a long way from that particular goal. Unless he could figure out a way around her stipulation, he was destined for cold showers for the next few weeks.
Her hand remained inside his. He caressed her palm with his thumb and she inhaled a barely audible sigh. It was low but he heard it and his body reacted, hardening in an instant.
That’s when he realized he had a solution. “We have a deal,” he said, adding one qualification. “As long as I have the right to try and change your mind.”
Since he’d effectively cornered her into hiring him, his addendum wasn’t fair and he knew it. But she obviously wanted him, too, which to his way of thinking put them on equal footing.
Her eyes were glazed with desire, narrowed in thought.
But in his mind it was a win-win situation. They’d get to know each other again in the time she had left. That she was leaving soon helped ease his mind about getting involved with a woman who had always affected him so strongly. So did her reticence.
He’d been recently burned by a hot and heavy romance with Kristina, but this one with Lauren had a beginning, middle and predestined end.
Surely she was smart enough to realize the same thing.
“Well?” he asked, staring pointedly at their intertwined hands.
She drew a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “Jason?”
“Yes?” He held his breath.
“Tomorrow morning, my house. Game on.” She pulled her hand from his and straightened her spine, swinging her hair over her shoulder in a sassy display of attitude surely meant to cover her uncertainty.
No way was she sure of victory. Not the way she’d been nearly panting from just holding his hand. Damned if he wasn’t rock hard and ready to go, too.
She turned and started for the door.
“See you then…sweetheart.”
She missed a step, righted herself and kept on going.
Satisfied, more than satisfied really, Jason folded his arms across his chest and glanced down at Fred. “Game on, Fat Man,” he said to the dog.
Tomorrow morning at nine, their battle of wills would begin. As a competitor of the fiercest kind, Jason looked forward to the challenge.
PROGRESS WAS a thing of beauty, Clara Deveaux thought as she dusted the old treasures in Edward’s house. Things he’d accumulated over the years. Some might call them clutter, but she respected them because they had meaning to the man she loved. She’d always been a believer in good Wiccan magic, never a believer in bad.
She emulated her Jamaican grandmother’s ways and lived by the saying, first do no harm. It had worked well for her until that fateful day her father had arrived from Jamaica, determined to marry Clara off to a man he’d chosen. She’d already met and fallen in love with the gruff, eccentric Edward Corwin by then, but she hadn’t wanted to disappoint her father. Never mind that she was already forty years old, the situation had been a tricky one since she was raised to respect and honor her parents.
She’d been planning to tell her father the truth, but her two worlds collided; the tall Jamaican with the flowers, her father moving fast and discussing wedding plans, and the wounded man she loved. Edward had walked into the shop and correctly interpreted the men’s intent. He hadn’t trusted in Clara’s feelings and had stormed out.
After explaining to her father and suitor that she had no intention of agreeing to an arranged marriage, she’d gone in search of Edward. She’d tried to reach him but he’d wanted nothing to do with her. That had been the last she’d seen of him for seven years, until Amber Rose Corwin had walked into her shop to buy a gift for her new father-in-law, Edward Corwin. That had been Clara’s sign.
She’d returned to Edward’s life, determined to wait as long as it took for him to heal so they could have a future. After his hospitalization last year, the doctor put him on antianxiety medication. Mike, Edward’s son, had asked her to move in, make sure he took his pills and keep his appointments. Clara knew the Goddess was looking out for her then.
It had only been about four months, but there was light. Edward talked to her at dinner. Not rambled, disjointed thoughts but real conversation. He’d ask about her day, her business. He had begun reaching out to her at last. Baby steps, but she was so grateful.
She replaced old candles around the house with fresh, new ones, wanting the scent to permeate by the time she returned home from work. Ever since she’d reopened her shop, Crescent Moon, here in Stewart, her New Age gift business was better than ever.
Her home life was harmonious and she was at peace. Maybe tonight she’d kiss Edward on the cheek before going to bed. It would be their first physical sign of affection but Clara felt certain Edward was ready.
JASON ARRIVED at the Perkins mansion at nine on the dot. Clipboard in hand to take notes on the project, he walked up the front porch to find the door ajar. As he stepped inside, a flash of fur whizzed past him, brushing his pant leg as it made a mad break for freedom.
“Hello? Lauren?” he called out.
“I’ll be right there!” Her voice sounded from deep inside the house.
Shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, he paced the outer hallway of the large house. He’d never been inside before and, based on his history with this family, he expected old ghosts to reach out and touch him. Instead, all he sensed was an old home with peeling paint, a mildewed smell and dilapidated flooring.
“Sorry, but you won’t believe the morning I’ve had,” Lauren said, out of breath.
She came toward him, closing the last button on her light pink man-styled shirt. Her feet bare, her long hair swinging as she moved, no makeup on her face, she was a breath of fresh air in this stuffy house.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“What isn’t? I woke up late, stepped into water all over the bedroom floor. The cat still has an upset stomach-and that’s putting it mildly.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail with her hands, securing it with a covered elastic. “All of that and it’s just nine a.m.”
“It could be worse.”
She raised an eyebrow, hands perched on her hips. “Care to tell me how?”
“You could still be without a contractor instead of having the best at your beck and call.” He couldn’t help but tease her.
“Good point.” She shot him a wry smile.
“What kind of flood?” he asked, concerned that the old pipes were giving her trouble.
“The kind that isn’t going anywhere,” she said, turning and walking away. “I need caffeine,” she called over her shoulder. “Want some coffee?”
He blinked in surprise at her change of subject and, given no choice, he followed her. “Black would be great,” he said to her back.
Once in the kitchen, which appeared to have been renovated in the last decade at least, he sat at the table, placing his clipboard down.
Lauren worked quickly. She poured them both cups of coffee that had already brewed and handed him a steaming mug.
“Thanks,” he said.
She nodded, lifted the cup and finished her caffeine fix in short order.
“So where’s the fire?” he asked, taking a sip of the hot coffee.
She placed her mug in the sink and ran water inside it. “We have work to do.”
He wasn’t sure if she wanted to keep things moving quickly to avoid any serious conversation or because she really did want to get started on the job.
Regardless, he took the hint. Steeling himself, he downed his coffee and placed the cup in the sink, rinsing it as she’d done with hers.
“Let’s start with the flood.” Picking up his clipboard, he gestured for her to lead the way.
After surveying the water in the large bedroom on the main floor, he realized things didn’t look good. “Where’s the water heater?”
“There’s a laundry room over here.” She led him out of the bedroom, which he appreciated since the bed hadn’t been made and the rumpled sheets only served to remind him of what he’d rather be doing.
What she’d prohibited him from doing, unless he could convince her otherwise. But he was a professional and he knew she needed to sell this house, so he focused on the job first.
“The laundry room backs up to the bedroom,” he said, reaching for the door. He opened it carefully and, just as he’d feared, found the old water heater surrounded by a huge puddle.
“Is it bad?” Lauren asked, hovering over his shoulder, so close her scent surrounded him.
“Seems that way. Considering how old and corroded the water heater looks, I’d guess it needs replacing, which means a big expense. Plus labor.” He turned to see her shocked expression.
“Well, that’ll put another huge hole in my bank account, but I don’t have a choice. When will you know?”
“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not an expert at everything.”
She propped one shoulder against the wall. “Really? What a disappointment.” Despite the situation, her eyes sparkled with amusement.
He laughed. “Plumbing’s not my thing, unfortunately. I’m going to have to subcontract the job. I’ll make a few calls and see what I can do.”
The first plumber who came to mind was Uncle Edward, but the notion of asking him to work on the old Perkins house seemed wrong. Jason didn’t want to jeopardize his uncle’s recovery by pushing him too far.
“Let me start with JR Plumbing.” He called and the owner answered on the first ring.
Jason explained the situation, the emergency nature of the flood and the need to inspect the rest of the pipes in the old house as soon as possible.
“I understand and thanks.” Jason hung up. “All his guys are busy working at the elementary school. One of the pipes burst and they’re getting it fixed.”
Lauren gnawed on her lower lip. “What next?”
“He has a new guy who he just interviewed but hasn’t officially hired yet. He says he’s eager. Keeps checking in to find out if J.R.’s got room to hire him. He’s going to give the guy a call and send him over.”
She exhaled hard. “Okay, that’s one down. Ready to see the rest of the house?”
Half an hour later, he had a basic list, certain he’d be adding more as he started to work. Lauren would be in charge of cleaning and removing her grandmother’s clutter and deciding what large items needed to go. The buyers were coming from a small apartment and had agreed to take most of the existing furniture.
“We need to test the appliances and see if any require repair or replacement, check the overhead fixtures for the same thing, repaint the walls, refinish the floors, check the windows and doors, and that’s just off the top of my head.”
She nodded, appearing pale and overwhelmed.
“Before we go further, what’s with all the holes in the walls?” he asked. “It looks like someone deliberately broke through the Sheetrock.”
She shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. They weren’t here the last time I visited my grandmother.”
“What about the alarm system?” he asked.
“Broken.”
He made a note of that and realized Lauren had clenched her hands into tight fists.
“Listen, the next step is for us to talk budget,” he said.
Lauren drew a visibly shaky breath. “Let’s sit,” she suggested, leading him to the den, where he sat beside her on the couch.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, reading the worry in her expression.
“It’s the budget. There’s just so much more to do than I originally expected.”
He nodded in understanding. “I assumed as much.”
“Look, I make a great living. That’s not bragging, it’s fact.”
“Based on the Porsche in the driveway, I figured as much,” he said, grinning.
“It’s preowned but it’s my baby.”
He caught the satisfaction in her voice and understood. “I bought the Carrera after I nailed my first sponsor. And I sold it after the scandal.” It wasn’t easy to reveal his biggest humiliation, but he wanted her to know he truly understood her. Better than she might think.
She moved her hand, covering his, squeezing tight. “I’m sorry. That must have been awful.”
“By then there’d been so many degrees of awful, it didn’t matter all that much.”
“Liar,” she said softly.
His mouth pulled upward into a smile. Leave it to Lauren to call him on it. “Let’s focus on you, okay?”
“For now,” she said, giving him fair warning she wasn’t finished with him yet. “Anyway, after the first of the year, my dresses are debuting for a huge label in Paris. If it’s successful…” Her eyes widened, filled with excitement and anticipation. “It would be the answer to my dreams.”
“Then I have no doubt you’ll succeed.” He placed his hand over hers.
“Really?” She tilted her head to one side as she looked for his reassurance.
“Really. You have the drive, you have the talent and you’ve already been discovered. Now you just need for the world to see it, too.” He smiled, his pride in her growing as he spoke.
“But it doesn’t matter how much money I earn after the show. I don’t have a lot now. Whatever my grandmother had in her estate went to creditors I didn’t know anything about until she died, and the bulk of my savings has gone to keeping my sister’s lawyer working on her case.” She curled one leg beneath her, shifting positions, not looking at him as she spoke.
He didn’t much care what happened to her arsonist, Corwin-hating sister, but he didn’t blame Lauren for her family’s sins. He’d had enough of being blamed for his own, and he was innocent.
It galled him, though, that the price of fixing her family’s mistakes fell on her shoulders. “Are your parents still building toilets and roads for the poor?”
She grinned. “Yes, they’re still out of the country doing humanitarian work.”
He hesitated about asking his next question then decided what the hell. He wanted to get to know her again, to understand what drove her and why. “That explains why they aren’t here to help now, but what about financial help for your sister’s attorney or for this house? Didn’t they write some huge self-help book?”
She pursed her lips. “They co-wrote a parenting book, and between sales, television appearances and new editions every few years, they earned themselves a huge amount of money. They promptly took their earnings, kept a modest sum to live on and donated the proceeds to charity, something they continue to do yearly. There’s nothing left to help me. And frankly even if there was, I don’t think they’d find my issues outweighed those of the poor.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have thought giving to charity could be a bad thing.” And at the expense of their children, he thought, disgusted.
Lauren shook her head and laughed, a low, dry, humorless sound. “Tell me about it. They believe their money is going for a good cause, whereas my income, earned through a materialistic lifestyle, is expendable. Hence Beth and this house have become my responsibility.” She swept her arm through the air.
He was speechless. She’d stepped up to take care of responsibilities that should rightly belong to her parents. He admired the adult she’d become in light of the obstacles she faced.
“I have enough to cover these repairs, even with the water heater, but it’ll be tight,” she said at last.
“I understand. And I promise to do this as quickly and efficiently as possible.” He’d fix as much as he could himself to save her outside costs, and he’d do it without letting her know. He had plenty of time to spare.
“Thank you for that. And for not judging.” Her smile lit up the room as well as his heart.
It was the first time they’d had a genuine conversation and a swell of emotion filled his chest. He met her gaze and wanted to kiss her. To reassure her that she could rely on him in a way she so obviously couldn’t on anyone else in her life.
He leaned in closer.
She didn’t back away.
And the doorbell rang, breaking the connection between them.
She pulled back, eyeing him warily before heading to answer. Leaving him to dissect the complicated, protective feelings she aroused.
“Where’s my nephew?” a familiar voice bellowed.
Uh-oh.
Uncle Edward was here. Jason didn’t know how he’d found him or why he’d shown up now, but it couldn’t be good news and he didn’t want Lauren greeting the older man alone.
Jason ran to catch up and the three of them converged in the marble entryway.
One look at his uncle and Jason knew something had set him off.
“Hi, Uncle Edward. How’d you get inside?” Jason asked.
“The door was already open, so I let myself in. If she didn’t want visitors, she should’ve locked her door. I always lock mine.”
Jason swallowed hard. The rambling was a sign of his agitation. “Well, I’m surprised to see you here. I’d like you to meet Lauren,” he said, deliberately omitting her last name.
Edward looked her up and down. “She’s a Perkins, isn’t that right?” he asked, running a hand through his hair and making it a mess.
“Well yes, and this is her house you barged into,” Jason reminded his uncle, hoping he’d take the hint and be polite.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Corwin,” Lauren said, extending her hand.
Edward jumped back as if she were poised to attack. “How could you take a job working for a Perkins?” he asked his nephew.
Jason stiffened, mortified on Lauren’s behalf as well as his own. “How did you find out?”
“I was at JR’s Plumbing Supply House when you called, that’s how! You can’t work here. Not without invoking curses and trouble. Curses. They’re the cause of all the problems we’ve had and it’s her family’s fault.” Edward began to gesture at Lauren, clearly upset.
Jason shot Lauren an apologetic glance. “Let me get him home and settled and I’ll be right back, okay?”
She nodded, her eyes wide, a combination of sadness and regret in them.
“Uncle Edward, let me take you home to Clara.” Jason wrapped his arm around the older man.
Edward shook his head. “Clara’s gonna put one of her spells on me, too.”
Jason let out a groan and directed his uncle toward his car. Edward had walked here, as he did to most places in town. But right now, Jason needed to get him home as soon as possible.
He dreaded Clara seeing Edward in this state. His uncle had only recently begun to soften toward Clara, but now it seemed he’d reverted to his old fears and behavior.
All because a Perkins and a Corwin were working together. Imagine what would happen if Edward knew they were sleeping together?
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