Surrender At Sunset. Jamie Pope
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But that was a bad thought. She worked for him. He was her boss and she needed to keep her attraction to him in check no matter how tempting it was to jump off the deep end and onto him. Taking both of her hands, she wrapped them around his larger one and slowly pulled it away from her chest. “I didn’t know you were such a fashion critic.”
“It makes me doubt your taste, and since you are decorating my house that’s a concern for me.”
“Well, the wonderful thing about this being your house is that I will decorate it however you want. What is your vision for this place?”
“I have no vision. That why I hired you.”
“You have no idea at all? What about furniture? What about paint colors?”
“This is the room my mother or sister will stay in, so I want it to be made up for a woman. Other than that I don’t care what you do. Just make it nice. I don’t want any updates. I don’t want to know what you’re doing, just show me when you’re done.”
“You want a big reveal?” she asked, flabbergasted. “But you live here. It’s going to be hard to surprise you.”
“I don’t want anything done to the kitchen. I mostly keep to my bedroom and the gym. There’s also a theater room on the other side of the house that I might be in. But other than that I’ll stay out of your way. And, during the day, you stay out of mine.”
“Okay.” She nodded, even though it was going to be hard to make this place over without any direction from him at all.
“I have a credit card for you to use. There’s some cash for your expenses. There’s no budget, but I have cut you a check for half of your fee. If you don’t think it’s fair we can negotiate a higher price. Other than that, treat the house as if it were your own. The pool, kitchen and grounds are available to you. There’s a car in the garage for your use.”
“Okay.” She nodded again, not knowing what else to say.
“I’ll get you bags and leave you alone to get settled.” He walked out, and she was glad he did because she had just become overwhelmed by it all. This house, this job, was too big for her. It was so unlike the little beachside inns she loved doing, a far cry from the three-room condos she was used to. A house like this should have a team of designers, or at least somebody with more experience. But she didn’t have more experience and there was nobody else but her here to do it. So she was going to have to suck up her fears and get it done. Because she’d never quit a job in her life and she would be damned if this was her first.
* * *
Carlos left Virginia alone in her room. He knew he had gone a step too far when he’d unraveled that silly little bow on her shirt. But he hadn’t been able to help himself. It was as if his fingers had developed a mind of their own, eager to reveal the woman he had met a few days ago. The woman he couldn’t stop thinking about, even though he desperately tried to. She had come covered up today—long sleeves, long pants, closed-toe heels. Her hair was pinned back. Her wild curls hidden from him. He didn’t like it. The raw, earthy beauty she had was gone, and left was another professional-looking woman who was a dime a dozen.
He could tell she was subdued today, trying to be the person she thought should be instead of the woman she really was. He didn’t want normal. He didn’t want professional. If he had, he would have hung up on her the day he called. He never would have gone through the trouble of bringing her here in the first place.
And so when he’d been in her bedroom with her, he hadn’t been able to resist messing her up a little, revealing her a little. It was a mistake, because the backs of his fingers had touched the soft skin of her chest. It had taken everything inside him not to slide his hand just a little lower and pop open some of her buttons. He knew if he had, he wouldn’t have been satisfied with just looking at her. He would have wanted to run his fingers over the top of her cleavage, maybe lower his lips to her chest and kiss her there.
Kissing that lush body wouldn’t have been enough. There was the bed there, just across the room. It had stood before him like a big neon sign, beckoning him. All he’d have had to do was lift her off her feet and carry her there. All he’d have had to do was strip away those layers of clothes and cover her body with his own, satisfying a need he hadn’t known he’d had until she’d walked into his world.
But he had hired her to work for him and he knew that he shouldn’t cross that line, especially before one wall was painted. For now he just needed to keep out of her way and keep his hands off her.
* * *
Virginia changed out of the outfit that Carlos seemed to hate so much and spent the rest of the day wandering the house with her sketch pad in hand, making notes and just imagining what the space could be.
He was a superstar, an athlete and a legend in the making. Plus, he was a single man in the prime of his life. His house should reflect that. The common spaces were going to have to be sleek and sophisticated enough to impress any one of the important guests at his sister’s wedding, but she would make the bedrooms homey. Each one of them different and reflective of the beautiful setting around them.
Around six that night she left the dining room and went into the kitchen that, despite being renovated five years ago, looked as modern as some of the work she had recently done. Finished in a rich mahogany, it was a cook’s dream with its huge granite-top island, double ovens, multiple sinks and spacious countertops. It seemed like a waste for a single man.
Her stomach rumbled. Carlos had never mentioned anything about food, not that she was expecting him to provide her with meals, but she wondered what she was going to eat tonight. She opened the refrigerator door to find it filled with sport drinks and water. There were a couple of bottles of expensive imported beer, but not much else. Not even eggs. The freezer was full of frozen pizza. There were hot dogs there, too, and that left her wondering what the man ate. She opened the cabinets to see only protein bars and a large jar of peanut butter. Shaking her head, she changed the page on her pad and started making a list.
“Why are you shaking your head?”
She looked up to see Carlos standing in the doorway of the far side of the kitchen; the house was so big she hadn’t heard his footsteps. “I was just wondering how you keep your body so hard when you eat like a thirteen-year-old boy.”
“I thought I was eating pretty well,” he said as he stepped closer. “There’s no marshmallow cereal or instant cups of soup in there.” He stopped next to her, his body so close that his arm brushed against hers as he looked down at her list. She had changed into shorts and a tank top, a far cry from what she’d been wearing when she’d arrived. The brush of his skin against hers caused goose bumps to break out on her skin.
“Thank heaven for small miracles. I’m going to make a grocery store run.”
“You don’t have to. I can have whatever you want delivered.”
“And let somebody else choose my fruit? You must be crazy. There’s a grocery store in town, right?”
“There’s two. One that sells gourmet stuff. The other is where most of the locals go. Just tell the car’s GPS where you want it to go and it will lead you there.”
“Or