of marriage and business were infamous.
“I just meant…” He shrugged. “Forget it. I guess marriage is all right for other people.”
“Wow. Isn’t that big of you.”
Neil looked surprised by her sarcastic tone, and to be honest, Libby was surprised herself. She’d never spoken her mind to him, not since that embarrassing night when she’d said all sorts of things about men who expected to sleep with a woman on the first date.
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
