feeling of apprehension settled over him. God, he was a desperate man.
SUNLIGHT FELL THROUGH a skylight onto Erin’s desk in her design studio. She sighed and flipped through the stack of invoices she’d been ignoring for the past week. There was no more putting it off. It was time to balance her accounts.
A whisper of movement sounded and she started, then stared. A blond stranger stepped into the sunlight spilling around her desk. He was tall and lean, his eyes dark and intense.
Her heart pounded. “Goodness, you scared me.”
He gestured toward the front. “Oh, sorry. The bell jingled, but you must not have heard.” Moving forward, he extended his hand. “I’m Jack Langston and I’m guessing you’re Erin McClellan.”
She rose, taking his hand as she moved around the desk. A shock of warmth spread through her at the contact. “Yes, I’m Erin. Guess I’ve been a little too absorbed in balancing my accounts. Or at least trying to.” She laughed, the sound seeming strained to her own ears.
He seemed to fill the splash of sunlight as though he was part of it—an angel sent to taunt her with his beauty. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Langston.”
“The pleasure’s mine. Please call me Jack. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“You have? Then do you mind if I ask who referred you?”
“I didn’t catch her name. She owns a little shop down in Coconut Grove. It’s called the Emperor’s Attic.”
“The Emperor’s Attic?” Unease gripped her.
“I believe she was the owner. She’s certainly worked there a long time. She spoke highly of you…and your family.”
“My family? What did she say about my family?” Her mind raced. She hadn’t been there in ages, but her unconventional relatives no doubt still frequented the metaphysical bookstore.
Jack straightened. “Mostly she talked about how well known you are for your work with feng shui.”
“But you said she talked about my family.” A faint roaring sounded in her ears. She tried to breathe, but it felt as if a weight pressed her chest.
“Isn’t this a family business?”
“No, this is my interior-design business. I don’t work with feng shui anymore.” A myriad of emotions swamped her. She leaned against her desk to steady herself. What was wrong with her?
“You don’t?” He frowned. “Why not?”
“I’ve decided to pursue a more mainstream clientele.”
“Mainstream?” A note of disbelief colored his voice.
“Mr. Langston, I’m not sure what you’ve heard about me or my family, but I assure you I run a very respectable business here.” Who was this man to question her in this way?
“I don’t doubt that, Ms. McClellan, but I don’t see anything disrespectable about feng shui. I’m no expert, but it seems quite a good number of upstanding citizens swear by it.”
“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it. I have simply chosen not to practice that type of design anymore. I find my business has picked up significantly since I decided to go with the more conventional mode of interior design.”
“But you would take on a job for a paying client if he wanted you to use your knowledge of feng shui?” He moved a step closer.
The tumult of emotions clamored inside her. She pressed her lips together to keep from crying out. He caused this tangle of feelings. Was this the empathic nature her family spoke of?
Well, they could have it.
“Are you such a client?” she asked.
He met her steady gaze. “Yes, I believe I am.”
“You’re saying you’re interested in feng shui?”
“That’s right. I have a condo on the intercoastal. It needs—” he gestured lamely “—some of that stuff.”
“Feng shui is more a philosophy than a collection of ‘stuff.’”
“Right. I need your expertise on how to bring that philosophy into my home.”
“And are you familiar with it then, Mr. Langston?”
“Jack.”
“Okay, Jack, what do you know about feng shui?”
“It’s the philosophy of…how energy—” he wiggled his hand through the air “—moves through space…and how you can arrange a living area…to promote harmony, balance and well-being.” He smiled triumphantly.
A shock—a connection—ran between them. She stood for a moment, not breathing as the turmoil inside her subsided and a feeling of well-being wrapped around her. She fisted her hands, fighting the outrageous urge to touch him.
Then she glanced away. Whoever he was, the feelings he stirred in her were anything but normal. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
“Why not?” He stepped even closer to her.
For an instant she thought he might grab her. A thrill shot through her and she chastised herself for the unwanted reaction. “My schedule is full. I’m not currently accepting new clients.”
“Maybe if you saw my place, you’d feel inspired. It’s a great condo.”
“No doubt.”
“And if I wanted to hire you for some regular interior-design work, would you be available?”
She stared at him a long moment, a strange sense of longing filling her. But he’d come from the Emperor’s Attic. He was interested in feng shui. He knew a little about her family.
And she was attracted to him.
“I’ve already told you that my schedule is full,” she finally said.
Disappointment flashed in his eyes. “Very well, Erin.” He handed her one of his business cards. “In case you change your mind.”
She took his card and extended her hand. “Thank you for stopping by.” His hand was warm and firm. The odd sense of well-being blanketed her. Her chest tightened with regret. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
“Are you?”
She let go of his hand, but the connection stretched between them. “Yes, Jack, I am.”
He nodded toward the card in her hand. “You know how to reach me.”
She refrained from comment as he turned and walked away.
Several hours later, Erin rubbed her eyes, then focused again on the numbers in the spreadsheet. Damn, she hadn’t realized she was cutting things so close
