what’s extremely old and valuable, that sort of thing.”
“That may make this inventory process take longer,” she said, contemplating the hazards of working constantly with him.
One dark eyebrow arched. “You can’t do that?”
“Of course I can. I’m just telling you,” she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact despite her alarming pulse rate. The thought of having him beside her constantly for the next two weeks or more was way too appealing.
His gaze became intense. “You don’t want to work with me?”
“We can work together. I’m just telling you the job may take a little longer that way.”
“That’s all right. If I’m here to tell you what I like, we won’t have misunderstandings. Now we’ve got that settled, what would you like? Iced tea? Coffee? Soda pop?”
“Tea is fine,” she said, perching on a bar stool to watch him get two tall glasses of iced tea. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to keep this palatial mansion. Do the Delaney heirs mind that you inherited it?”
“I’m closest with Ryan Delaney, and he’s assured me that they don’t at all. They inherited enough themselves that they’re happy, and Ryan said none of them ever spent time at this place, so it holds no sentimental value for them. His dad got this mansion in a business deal. The previous owners settled a debt by deeding him this place. I’m the fortunate one,” he said, his thickly lashed green eyes making it difficult to pay attention to what he was telling her.
“There are some things I like, and some I’m uncertain about. I’ll show you pictures of my two houses, and you tell me what you think will fit in and look nice. Otherwise I want to sell the mansion and everything inside it. I’ve told the Delaneys to come get what they want first, but they’ve all indicated they’ll pass.”
“Then they really don’t want any of this,” she said.
“No, Ryan said they don’t. I plan to sell the furnishings and art separately from the mansion because I think you and your dad can get me a better deal.”
“I’m glad you made that decision,” she said lightly.
“I like some of the old furniture, like the beds in your room and mine.”
“I haven’t seen yours, but the one in my suite is solid oak and so well preserved. I’m guessing eighteenth-century France,” she said. “I’ve done most of the bedrooms, but I still have four to go.”
“I’ll show you mine anytime you want to see it,” he said with a faint smile.
“That’s an offer I’ll keep in mind,” she couldn’t resist answering, remembering what fun it was to flirt with him. “I’ll work downstairs for now,” she added, trying to get back to a professional level.
“Anytime. I’m always available.”
“I can imagine.” She suspected he did remember that night when she had been eighteen.
“Shall we?” He motioned toward an adjoining sunroom that overlooked the lit veranda and pool area. As she sat, he pulled his chair close to hers to sit beside her, getting out his phone. “Here is my Dallas home,” he said, leaning closer so she could view the picture on his cell phone with him.
“Your Dallas mansion looks as large as this place, if not larger,” she said, aware again of their shoulders and arms touching. She looked up to meet his gaze as he flipped to another picture.
“Might be. It’s what I like, so I don’t view it as huge. It’s more appealing to me than this place. This one has a cold, remote look to it.” He switched to the next picture. “Here are the rooms.”
She agreed about the cold appearance of the gray mansion, but she didn’t mention it. They went through some pictures of rooms in his Dallas home, and then he switched to pictures of a lavish ranch home in Wyoming.
“I think the best I can do for you is get everything inventoried and perhaps make some suggestions. I’m not an interior decorator, but I can try at least. I’ll need pictures of these rooms to study more thoroughly.”
“Sure. Now I’d like to go through the house with you and tell you which things I like and what I want to keep. Actually, what I’d really like to do—”
Smiling, she bent forward quickly to place her forefinger lightly on his lips to silence him. The instant she touched him, she removed her finger as a current sizzled to her toes. It had been a mistake to touch his mouth, but she couldn’t take it back.
“So would I, but it would be unprofessional and not the smart thing to do. Let’s stick to business,” she said breathlessly, lost again while looking into his eyes and besieged by memories.
Looking amused, he nodded. “Maybe I don’t have on my mind what you think I do,” he said.
“Maybe not, but just in case you do, prevention is better.”
He grinned. “We can have fun.”
“Stick to business,” she said, wishing she could sound positive and forceful.
“You’re all grown up. No flirty college girl now.”
“I’m trying not to be,” she answered, thinking that was the last thing she needed, if she was to work with him the next several days. “So we’ll stick to getting items you want to sell separated from the ones you want to keep and get all the contents cataloged. We can start as soon as you want.”
“Start which?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
“C’mon, Jared. Let’s stick to business.”
“All right. I guess that’s the wisest course for both of us, but it’s definitely not the most exciting or the most fun.”
She couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed that he had stopped flirting with her. She wondered whether they would be together constantly. The whole prospect of this job had changed, turning everything topsy-turvy, with work becoming a secondary consideration.
“Perhaps we should start now,” she said, smiling at him and taking a long drink of tea. She set down the glass and stood. “I’ll work downstairs this afternoon,” she said, wanting to avoid the bedrooms anytime he was around.
“Sure.” He rose to walk with her. One of the front rooms was a library, where he stopped in front of the painting nearest the door. “Here’s something I want. I think this can go in the Wyoming ranch house.”
She looked at the oil painting of a mountain stream with horses nearby. “You’re not a contemporary fan. You like the traditional. That’s a marvelous painting,” she said, making more notes. While she placed a small sticker on the back of the painting, Jared strolled slowly around the room.
“I like that table,” he stated, pointing to a Queen Anne–style mahogany table.
“Again a good choice in my opinion, but I love the sort of art and furniture here,” she stated, making her notes and tagging the underside of the table.
He
