better than work for someone else. Jared told me not to rush it. We argued. I left. He didn’t take it well.’
Blake studied her a moment; the intensity was unnerving. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
She heard genuine regret in his voice and tried to shrug it off. ‘We still get on okay.’ Mostly. Except now she realised Jared was right. She’d been in too much of a damn hurry. ‘So I want to maybe freelance for a bit,’ she continued, ‘but people round here don’t want to take a chance on a nobody.’
‘You’re not a nobody unless you think that way. Trust me, I know.’
Trust him? She met his eyes across the table—cool and calm and blue as a summer lake. Ah, so not only was he super-efficient and a protector hero, he was one of those super-positive, role-model motivational types as well.
But it was the underlying flame in those cool depths that turned her inside out and had her gripping the edge of the table and reminding her she was nowhere near ready to trust a man again. Not even Blake Everett. To have another man in her life, even as a friend, was a leap she wasn’t sure she could make.
‘I’ll be fine. Something’ll turn up.’ Did she really believe that? Or did she just not want this man in particular to see her fail? ‘How long are you here for?’
‘I haven’t decided yet. A few weeks, a couple months …’
Watching the play of emotions cross her gaze as she spoke it was obvious to Blake that she wanted him gone, as far away and as quickly as possible. But at the same time he saw the attraction shine out of those eyes and felt its burn all the way down his body.
He wasn’t the only one confused, then. Stick with what you know and leave the emotional minefield well alone.
But emotion and attraction aside, it was obvious she needed some sort of financial assistance to get her up and running. It was just as obvious, a matter of pride for her, that she didn’t want her brother’s support. Which left Blake. And he owed Jared.
He guessed he wasn’t going anywhere until something was sorted.
‘Do you have a vision for this business, Lissa, should you set one up?’
‘Do I ever.’ She leaned forward, eyes alive with enthusiasm. ‘In a nutshell: Beauty, Functionality and Innovation through Experience and Knowledge.’
She smiled with such glowing satisfaction that he just bet she’d been itching to give her spiel to anyone who’d listen.
More than a few thoughts flashed through his mind, none of them business, but he wiped out all distraction and focused on the here and now. His socialite mother’s death had left him a wealthy man. He also owned investment properties here in his own right. Right now he was jaded and disillusioned. He needed a challenge, a distraction. Something new to light a fire in his belly.
Lissa Sanderson’s vision promised all those things. He wanted to help her, not only because she was Jared’s sister, but because she was young and vivacious and fuelled with the same energy he’d had at her age. At a fit and healthy thirty-two he was hardly an old man but he wanted that energy that had been lacking lately, that zest, back in his own life.
‘Oh, and it must be eco-friendly,’ she went on, ‘working with rather than against the environment. And colour. Lots of colour. Bold …’ She trailed off as she caught his eye and her cheeks grew rosy. ‘I’m getting carried away.’
So was he. With her ideas, the way her voice and its passion for her work flowed over him. But more so with the woman. Her eyes. Her emotions clearly visible with that hint of the sea in their colour. Her hair, its vibrant auburn tint catching the morning sun, her creamy skin. He fisted his hands and rubbed his knuckles to try and curb the impulse to reach out.
He mentally shook his head, assured himself it was purely sexual. It was the perfectly natural response of a horny man to feminine sexuality. And far more comfortable than the alternative.
But she drew him in ways he couldn’t explain. And he’d not felt that intriguing pull of desire for a woman in a long while.
He didn’t want the alternative. Didn’t want the complications that came with it. He didn’t want to hurt her because of it. So. he’d need to make sure this … sexual tug … didn’t clash with a possible temporary working relationship.
‘I’m looking for somewhere to invest some money,’ he said carefully. ‘A business, perhaps.’
She went very still. He saw a tiny crease in her brow appear as she absorbed his suggestion. Her eyes took on a different shade. The way light changed when one moved from sandy shallows on some tropical shore to the deepest ocean dive.
‘If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, forget it.’ Her tone was cool. Very cool. Then she rose, took a few steps away. Distancing herself. ‘I don’t want or need your charity.’
‘I’m not suggesting a handout,’ he said, mildly. ‘Charity was my mother’s forte. I’m suggesting a partnership. I’ll provide the start-up capital but you’ll be the one slaving your guts out and responsible for the day-to-day running of the business.’
She turned. Her shoulders square, looking taller than her small stature, she hesitated before saying slowly, ‘You mean you’d be … like a silent partner?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Why?’
‘Because everyone deserves a chance and I like what I’ve seen so far.’
With a scowl, she crossed her arms, drawing his attention to the deep cleavage at the top of her emerald T-shirt. ‘What do you mean—what you’ve seen?’
Uh-oh. Right word choice, wrong place to look while saying it. He lifted his eyes. ‘I have to admit I flipped through some of your work last night before I brought the rest of your gear over.’
Lissa watched him from across the room, her sudden exuberance quickly dissipating. What would he know about interior design? He’d just eyed off her cleavage, what did that tell her? That he’d finance her business in return for sex?
No. She’d never stoop to that. Not to get herself out of difficulties, not for a chance at success. Not even for the chance of sleeping with Blake Everett. Rubbing her upper arms, she looked away. ‘I’ll find my own business partner, thanks.’
‘It could take a while to find the right person and you don’t have the luxury of time. Meanwhile you’re not bringing in a reliable income and you’re living on that pathetic excuse for a boat.’
He made sense. Damn it, why did he have to make so much sense?
‘So how about taking me on until you find someone else?’ he suggested. ‘That special someone with financial backing and a flair for interior design who wants to take a more active role. When you find that suitable person we’ll renegotiate.’
Little bubbles of cautious excitement fluttered as she leaned against the sink and studied the black slate floor. It would solve her immediate problems. She’d be able to afford the boat’s repairs, pay off her debts, and maybe, just maybe, she could give herself a real chance at the career she so desperately wanted—
