lightly on her waist as she looked up at him. They stood too close, conjuring up memories of other times she had stood with him like this.
“You can start right away?” he asked and his voice had dropped a notch, the only indication that he noticed anything else between them.
“Yes, I can,” she said, stepping away from him. “Is your house far enough along for me to start drawing?”
“Yes,” he replied, pulling on his coat. “We can talk about it while we eat dinner. Let’s get back to the club,” he said, and she crossed the room to pick up her purse, relieved that they were leaving his hotel suite and she would once again be out in public where the situation could not get intensely personal.
They had been seated only a short time back in the Millington Club when a first course of pan-seared crab cakes was served.
“We’re so civilized,” she said quietly while she ate a small bite. “I want to scream at you and throw things at you instead of work for you. As it is, you’ve bought yourself peace because I can’t do that and work for you afterward.”
He arched an eyebrow and his gaze drifted over her features. “For right now, perhaps we can both put the past on hold. It may not last, but we can try.”
She inhaled, thought about the price he was willing to pay her and what she could do with the fortune. All her life she had been in competition with her brothers and even with her father. Now, her earnings would equal theirs. The mural earnings would give her a chance for spectacular accomplishments in her career.
If only she could hold to those thoughts and shove the past into oblivion, she might get through this assignment without unleashing all her pent-up fury that increased every time Cade indicated that there was reason for him to be angry with her over the past.
He couldn’t have a single reason to have any bitterness on his part and it mystified her and infuriated her when he said that he did, but she didn’t want to go into it because she’d already lost control once tonight, she didn’t want to again.
“Tomorrow morning, if you’re available, we can fly to Houston and return in the afternoon.”
“That’s fine,” she replied as the waiter removed their dishes and brought green salads. Tomorrow she would spend the day with him. Her appetite had fled and she sipped her water.
“In your bedroom,” she said, “the painting should be something pleasing and relaxing, something you really like. What do you enjoy?”
“I don’t think you’re going to want to paint that on my wall,” he drawled, and she had to laugh in spite of her irritation. She didn’t want his charm. Keep the barriers, she reminded herself.
“What are some of your favorite things?” she asked. “It used to be bikes, tinkering with cars and baseball, but, of course, I don’t know what you like now.”
“I haven’t changed that much. My fascination with bikes has changed to cars. I enjoy baseball. Now I can enjoy things I couldn’t then. I like fishing, skiing, golf, mountain climbing and snow boarding. As far as a subject for a mural for my bedroom—I’ll have to think about that,” he replied.
“I’ll come up with possibilities for the subjects, too. That’s my job.”
As they talked about business and about the murals, she noticed he didn’t have a big appetite, either. They kept the conversation off anything personal and she repeatedly thought about her job and changes she could make because of the money that would pour into her business, yet her train of thought wandered constantly back to Cade. Why hadn’t he married? Why wasn’t there a woman in his life now?
She shoved her questions aside. She wanted to keep everything as impersonal and professional as possible between them. He was now her client and she had to try to keep the past out of mind as long as she worked for him. Do the job and avoid thinking about their history—how many times would she have to remind herself? Had he ever loved her or had it all been a lie?
She took a deep breath and drank her water, trying to cool down and stop recalling the past, but she could only let go of memories a few minutes at a time and then soon, they were back in her thoughts again. She tried to pay attention to what he was saying as they talked in generalities and he inquired about different jobs she’d had, but her mind wandered. When her attention went to his mouth, she remembered his hot possessive kisses.
“You’re not eating,” he observed, drawing her abruptly back to the present. She felt her cheeks flush and hated that she couldn’t control her blush.
“You haven’t eaten very much yourself,” she replied. “I’m tense anyway when I start a new job and maybe even more edgy tonight,” she said.
“Relax,” he said, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I’m no ogre to work for and I know you’re an artist.”
He held her hand, his thumb running back and forth lightly over her hand and then her wrist and she knew he probably felt her racing pulse. His dark eyes bore into her and their surroundings ceased to exist for her, leaving only Cade.
“Katherine,” he said coaxingly, and for an instant, she wanted to lean closer to him until she realized how she was responding.
“Stop, it. I suppose it’s from not seeing anyone for a long time, but I’m more susceptible than I want to be. You show some restraint or this isn’t going to work.”
“Sure, it’ll work,” he said softly.
They each left a large portion of their dinners untouched. The evening was a strain, and she was ready for it to end before she lost her composure with him again.
“Want to dance?” he asked, gazing at her with a level, flat stare that made her wonder what he felt and what was going through his mind.
“No, I don’t, Cade. Let’s keep anything between us strictly business.”
“You know I paid royally for this evening with you,” he said easily. “I haven’t danced in a while. It seems to me, the night should include at least a dance,” he said, standing and coming around the table. He pulled out her chair and she stood, trying to bite back her comments.
“You’re definitely accustomed to getting your way,” she said, standing, her pulse racing at the thought of dancing with him. Everything involving him was two-sided. Attraction caused her nerves to sizzle while anger kept her in a knot as she struggled to avoid another outburst with him.
He led her to the dance floor and the moment she walked into his embrace, her pulse jumped. Why did this seem so right? He held her close against him, and she felt the soft wool of his tux. She could detect the scent of his aftershave, feel the brush of his thighs against hers.
She danced with him as if time had vanished and it was nine years earlier. Every step was familiar, every move was seduction. Her heart pounded and heat burned inside her. They danced together in perfect coordination as if they had been dancing together every night for the whole nine years.
“This is good, Katherine, to hold you,” he whispered, and his breath was warm against her ear. Her arm curled across his shoulder and she was careful to keep her hand on his coat and to avoid touching his neck. He swung her down in a dip and she instinctively clung to him as she looked into his dark eyes. She wanted him and there was no stopping
