Undressed by the Rebel. Alison Roberts
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“I warn you, I do love a challenge.”
Amanda smiled and gestured out the window. “So, Mr. Tour Guide, what’s that building over there?”
Nick had instructed the driver to take them through Los Angeles and give Amanda a look at the city. He pointed out the building where he had an office, then the shops along Wilshire Boulevard, which were bustling with people, delivery wagons, trolley cars and carriages. Gradually, the driver headed east, also on Nick’s instructions, until the city faded into farmland.
Amanda leaned closer to the window, gazing at the open fields dotted with an occasional farmhouse. “Perhaps now is a good time to ask where you’re taking me.”
“I want to show you my passion. My latest project,” he explained, waving his hand toward the window. “The Whitney project, I’m calling it, named after the man who owned the majority of the land.”
The carriage drew to a stop. Nick exited first, then helped Amanda to the ground.
Miles of farmland spread out around them, rimmed by a range of rugged mountains. Nearby was a dilapidated farmhouse—its roof blown off, windows smashed—shaded by a towering oak.
The driver handed a wicker hamper and blanket to Nick, then flicked the reins.
“Where is he going?” Amanda asked, watching the carriage drive away.
“Taking the team down to the creek for water.”
Amanda glanced around at the vast openness, the isolation. “So we’re out here alone?”
Nick nodded. “Just the two of us…and our passions.”
Chapter Six
“Come here, let me show you.” Nick dropped the wicker hamper and blanket under the tree, and took Amanda’s elbow.
“This is the Whitney farm?” Amanda asked, walking alongside him.
“Most of it. Ezra Whitney owned the acreage to the north, and his son owned that to the south. It belongs to me now.” Nick gestured to the old farmhouse. “This portion here in the middle will be mine shortly.”
“It’s not part of the Whitney farm?”
“No, it belongs to another farmer,” Nick said. “It’s been abandoned for years, as you can see by the condition of the place. We’re tracking down the owner now, arranging for the purchase of the land.”
Amanda looked up at Nick. “What if he won’t sell?”
“Oh, he’ll sell, all right,” Nick told her. “He’ll jump at the chance to unload this land.”
“It seems like you’re taking quite a chance,” she said.
Nick shook his head. “This tract of land is perfect. I’ll have it, one way or another.”
Amanda gazed around. “There must be a hundred acres.”
“Just about.”
“What do you plan to do with it?”
Nick stopped for a moment and surveyed the area. “I’m going to build a factory.”
“My goodness. That’s very ambitious,” Amanda said. “What are you going to manufacture?”
“Electrical parts,” Nick said, and started walking again. “Light switches and fixtures, sockets, wiring, bulbs. Everything needed to provide electricity to the public.”
“That’s a very progressive idea.”
“It’s the future.” Nick pointed across the field. “The main building will go right here. Come on, I’ll show you.”
They crossed the field as Nick explained the layout of the factory complex, pointing and gesturing. Amanda asked questions—intelligent questions—that pleased him no end.
As he explained the reason for the placement of the warehouses, he realized he couldn’t think of another woman he’d bring out here to look at his factory site—not even his mother or sister. But having Amanda here with him seemed the most natural thing in the world. He couldn’t imagine not having her here, not telling her about his project.
“Has the architect finished the plans?” Amanda asked as they walked toward the old farmhouse again.
“Almost.” Nick grinned. “I keep thinking of new things I’d like to add.”
“When will the factory open?”
“Early next year,” Nick said. “I’m projecting it will turn a profit within two years.”
“Two years?” she asked, her eyes wide.
He grinned. “I like to think long-term.”
“I guess you do.”
“Hungry?” Nick asked as they reached the shade of the oak tree. He gestured to the hamper. “I had the cooks prepare something for us. No easy task, with all the wedding preparations under way.”
Amanda spread the blanket on the soft grass and sat down. Nick joined her, the hamper separating them.
A light breeze stirred the wisps of hair at Amanda’s temples and her cheeks glowed a pale pink as she looked off across the field. Nick couldn’t keep his gaze away. It was the first time he’d been to the old Whitney farm and found anything more interesting than the land itself.
Amanda turned back to him and saw that he’d been watching her. She flushed slightly and dropped her gaze. Nick thought her the most lovely woman he’d ever seen.
“Let’s see what we have here,” he said, briskly opening the hamper.
Inside was cheese and bread, some cold meat, fruit and a bottle of wine. Amanda set out the plates and cutlery while Nick filled their glasses.
“Do you intend to employ women in your factory?” Amanda asked.
Nick bit off a chunk of bread. “Men and women working alongside each other? I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“That sounds a bit old-fashioned for a man building a factory meant to take us into the next century,” Amanda said, sipping the wine.
He shrugged. “Yes, I suppose it does.”
“Well?”
Nick shook his head. “I don’t know…”
“At least say you’ll think about it.”
“I’ll think about it,” he promised. “For you.”
Amanda smiled, and Nick couldn’t help smiling back.
“So,”