be the first to admit it. But I’m also a woman who takes her job seriously. Whether you believe it or not, Michael, I earn every penny Joseph pays me. I might keep a man waiting for a date, but I am always on time for work.”
He took his foot off the curb and straightened to his full height. “I apologize,” he said, then surprised her by smiling ruefully. “You might find this hard to believe, but I didn’t set out this morning to antagonize you. Matter of fact, I promised myself I would be on my best behavior.”
His smile and his honesty disarmed her. Laura couldn’t help laughing.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“We are. We’re quite a pair, you and I. I promised myself the same thing.”
His answering chuckle was appreciative. “Looks like neither of us is very good at keeping promises.”
“Not this one, anyway,” she agreed. “I owe you an apology, too. I don’t know why I’m so prickly this morning.”
“Forget it,” he dismissed. “Want to give it another try?”
“Being civil to each other, you mean?”
He nodded. “We do have a long drive ahead of us. And, after that, several days of hard work. Things would go a lot smoother if we got along.”
Laura had never had difficulty staying in character before. But somehow, when she wasn’t paying attention, she’d lost Ruby. Again. She had to stop doing that. It was imperative. She couldn’t afford to arouse Michael’s suspicions. For all she knew, he was a plant Joseph had put in place to test her loyalty. She didn’t want to flunk that test.
In Michael Corsi’s presence, however, Laura Langley actually warred with Ruby O’Toole for equal time. That had to stop, too. As of yesterday.
“For Joseph’s sake,” she said, “if for nothing else, we really should try. But I have to be honest with you. I don’t hold out much hope.”
“Pessimist,” he teased, his brown eyes gleaming with humor and his lips curling invitingly.
Laura’s mouth went dry. Oh, hell. Michael Corsi in aggravating mode was attractive enough. In teasing mode, he was downright adorable.
Forget civility, she decided. An abrasive Michael was far preferable to her peace of mind. And much easier on her conscience.
“Tell me something,” she said, racking her brain for a way to put his back up again. It shouldn’t be too hard, since Ruby’s merely drawing breath seemed to irritate him no end. “You’re not one of those men who object to a woman driving, are you?”
Ruby O’Toole would gladly relinquish the driver’s seat to any male who offered, but Laura Langley would go stir crazy if she had to sit in the passenger seat the entire trip. She needed something to distract her from her awareness of this man. Negotiating the hills and curves of the drive ahead should do the trick easily enough.
“I believe in equal-opportunity driving,” he replied.
Michael didn’t know it, but he’d just given her the opening she was searching for.
“A man after my own heart,” she drawled sweetly. “Why, if Joseph hadn’t staked a claim first, I’d probably be putty in your hands.”
She felt a surge of triumph at the flare of impatience that flashed in his eyes.
“I should warn you,” he said. “If you take a spell behind the wheel, you could break a nail.”
Bingo. “I’ll risk it.”
“Won’t it hamper your incorrigible flirting with the men in other cars? I’d hate to have you cramp your style.”
“I’ll manage.”
“I’m sure you will.” The words were not a compliment.
Laura suppressed a sigh of relief. The status quo had been recaptured. She was safe, at least for now.
“Damn,” Michael muttered, shaking his head. “I did it again, didn’t I? That truce lasted all of three seconds.”
Which suited her just fine. She glanced pointedly at her watch. “Don’t you think we should be going?”
Michael eyed the three suitcases at her feet. To his credit, he really did try. No uncivil comments were forthcoming, although she noticed he did have to bite his lip.
He even kept silent when his gaze ran over her short black skirt, which was cut low at the waistline to expose her belly button, and its matching skintight sleeveless mock turtleneck top. But when he got to her shoes, which consisted solely of a strap across her instep, another strap that buckled around her ankles, and three inch heels, apparently he could keep silent no longer.
“Nice work clothes,” he said with a smirk that would have done Elvis proud.
“Thank you,” she replied, unable to resist a last longing look at his jeans and T-shirt. She would have killed to be able to wear jeans and a T-shirt. Ruby O’Toole, unfortunately, wouldn’t be caught dead in them. Under any circumstances.
More than the impractical clothing, what Laura really hated was having to spend an hour every morning putting herself together. It was such a pain having to keep her nails manicured and perfectly painted, her hair styled and her makeup just so. It was beyond her why women wasted all that time on their outward image.
Laura had always prided herself on being more interested in a person’s character than his or her appearance. She preferred substance over style. Unfortunately, had she played herself instead of Ruby, she never would have captured Joseph’s attention. Or Michael’s.
“You really like my outfit?” she asked. Flashing him Ruby’s patented smile, she smoothed her hands down her skirt. While the movement was made to look alluring, in reality it was a disguised attempt at pushing the tight fabric farther down her thighs. Even though she showed more skin in a bathing suit, the outfit still made her feel extremely self-conscious.
“It’s a Benton Thomas original,” she added, when he didn’t reply.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not up on the current fashion designers. Aren’t you afraid of ruining your clothes? The last time I appraised an estate, it involved dank basements and dusty attics.”
She waved a hand in dismissal. “That’s what they have dry cleaners for.”
“There are some miracles even dry cleaners can’t perform.”
He might disparage the way she was dressed, but he couldn’t hide the gleam of appreciation in his eyes at the way the outfit flattered her figure. The gleam would have definitely pleased Ruby. Though she fought it, and despite her avowal of preferring substance over style, it pleased Laura, too.
“In that case,” she said airily, “there’s always Joseph. He’ll replace it if I ask. He takes good care of me.”
Michael’s lip curled. “And you’re a woman who needs a man to take care of her.”
So that’s
