kissed her male clients. But what if she had? What is the matter with me? What was I thinking?! Nerves, that’s what it was. He’d taken advantage of her edginess. And wasn’t that just like a man?
But his partner had seemed nice. He’d looked vaguely familiar when he’d arrived at the restaurant with the zoning materials. Maybe she would speak to him about the zoning and permits—instead of Mr. James. So she wouldn’t have to look at him, so she wouldn’t be tempted. Except she was. He was a world-class temptation.
She waited for the garage door to close behind her car and plodded into her little town house. Her cheeks still burned, like her middle, and not just from the food. All she could think about was her collision with Beau. That kiss. Both of them, actually. Like nothing she’d ever felt with Ned, that was for sure. She took a deep breath. She dared to glance in the mirror as she entered her bedroom.
“Oh, lordy, I look terrible.” She groaned. “I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again.” But the offer on Granddad’s house required that she see him. And she had to admit she actually wanted to kiss him, just once more. To see if the experience was as mind-blowing when she was stone-cold sober. She’d always loved science. It would be an experimental kiss.
But that would never happen. She couldn’t let it. He was a client.
What was his partner’s name? Greg, Jordan, Jeff? Where was that business card? I’ll call his office first thing tomorrow and talk to the secretary. She’ll tell me. Maybe she would ask his partner to be her contact for the rest of the negotiations.
She shuffled into the bathroom to take a shower before falling into bed.
Was it only minutes after she fell asleep that the phone began its insistent ringing? She rolled over, her eyes still shut, and pawed for the annoying thing on her nightstand. It had to be the middle of the night. Her nose was stuffed and her mouth felt like cotton. What was that pounding in her temples?
“’Ullo?” She rolled onto her back.
“Good morning, Olivia.” The voice was disgustingly cheery. “Beau James here.”
Oh. God. That cheerful voice. As if I didn’t know. Don’t you ever sleep? She opened one eye and was surprised to see light slanting through the miniblinds. She squeezed both eyes tighter. It can’t be morning already.
“I just thought I’d call before you were swamped with early morning business calls—so we can set an appointment to go over that zoning and permit material I gave you last night.”
She squinted in the direction of the clock radio and waited for her eyes to focus, dismayed at the time. How could she have slept so late? Why hadn’t the clock buzzed?
“And it’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and there’s a light breeze, perfect for the sailboats on the lake. I just saw a couple head out from the dock while I was eating breakfast.”
She stifled a groan and pulled the covers over her face, the phone still pressed to her ear. “Good for you. I don’t make appointments before I’ve had my morning coffee. Good-bye.”
She lay back for a moment before her eyes flew open and she flung off the covers. How did he get this number? He’d called her home phone. She sat up then fell back onto the pillow at the pounding in her temples. It was too early to get up. She rolled over and closed her eyes.
Then she heard the birds. She peeked in the direction of her window. Even with the blinds closed, she could see that he was right. It was a beautiful summer day. The sun cast slices of light across her bed. She rolled back the other way just as the radio clicked on and a newscaster began reeling off a litany of bad news—at least ninety minutes later than usual. She must have reset it last night.
Might as well get up. I’ll never get back to sleep now. And she had a world-class headache. Grab the Tylenol quick and try to head it off. The disastrous meal of the
But his partner had seemed nice. He’d looked vaguely familiar when he’d arrived at the restaurant with the zoning materials. Maybe she would speak to him about the zoning and permits—instead of Mr. James. So she wouldn’t have to look at him, so she wouldn’t be tempted. Except she was. He was a world-class temptation.
She waited for the garage door to close behind her car and plodded into her little town house. Her cheeks still burned, like her middle, and not just from the food. All she could think about was her collision with Beau. That kiss. Both of them, actually. Like nothing she’d ever felt with Ned, that was for sure. She took a deep breath. She dared to glance in the mirror as she entered her bedroom.
“Oh, lordy, I look terrible.” She groaned. “I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again.” But the offer on Granddad’s house required that she see him. And she had to admit she actually wanted to kiss him, just once more. To see if the experience was as mind-blowing when she was stone-cold sober. She’d always loved science. It would be an experimental kiss.
But that would never happen. She couldn’t let it. He was a client.
What was his partner’s name? Greg, Jordan, Jeff? Where was that business card? I’ll call his office first thing tomorrow and talk to the secretary. She’ll tell me. Maybe she would ask his partner to be her contact for the rest of the negotiations.
She shuffled into the bathroom to take a shower before falling into bed.
Was it only minutes after she fell asleep that the phone began its insistent ringing? She rolled over, her eyes still shut, and pawed for the annoying thing on her nightstand. It had to be the middle of the night. Her nose was stuffed and her mouth felt like cotton. What was that pounding in her temples?
“’Ullo?” She rolled onto her back.
“Good morning, Olivia.” The voice was disgustingly cheery. “Beau James here.”
Oh. God. That cheerful voice. As if I didn’t know. Don’t you ever sleep? She opened one eye and was surprised to see light slanting through the miniblinds. She squeezed both eyes tighter. It can’t be morning already.
“I just thought I’d call before you were swamped with early morning business calls—so we can set an appointment to go over that zoning and permit material I gave you last night.”
She squinted in the direction of the clock radio and waited for her eyes to focus, dismayed at the time. How could she have slept so late? Why hadn’t the clock buzzed?
“And it’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and there’s a light breeze, perfect for the sailboats on the lake. I just saw a couple head out from the dock while I was eating breakfast.”
She stifled a groan and pulled the covers over her face, the phone still pressed to her ear. “Good for you. I don’t make appointments before I’ve had my morning coffee. Good-bye.”
She lay back for a moment before her eyes flew open and she flung off the covers. How did he get this number? He’d called her home phone. She sat up then fell back onto the pillow at the pounding in her temples. It was too early to get up. She rolled over and closed her eyes.
Then she heard the birds. She peeked in the direction of her window. Even with the blinds closed, she could see that he was right. It was a beautiful summer day. The sun cast slices of light across her bed. She rolled back the other way just as the radio clicked on and a newscaster began reeling off a litany of bad news—at least ninety minutes later than usual. She must have reset it last night.
Might as well get up. I’ll never get back to sleep now. And she had a world-class headache. Grab the Tylenol quick and try to head it off. The disastrous meal of the
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