The Seductive Impostor by Janet Chapman Page A

let your knee heal.” He smiled. “Jason may haunt you with questions, but you probably won’t even see me most of the time. And you can call Franny Watts and get her to come cook for us.”
    Rachel didn’t trust him any farther than she could spit. Keenan Oakes was all but inviting her to take another shot at his library. It wasn’t sincerity she saw in his eyes—it was the calculated risk a predator was willing to take to trap its prey.
    â€œWhat about your wolf?”
    â€œI’ll keep him outside.”
    So she wouldn’t escape, was what he was really saying. Rachel surprised herself by actually considering his proposition. Good Lord. Why was she trying to talk herself out of accepting his offer? She couldn’t ask for a better opportunity to hunt for Thadd’s secret room. Then she could get rid of any evidence that might implicate her father’s involvement in Thadd’s crimes.
    It was perfect. Assuming Keenan Oakes kept his word and stayed away from her.
    â€œYou’ll accept the fact that I wasn’t here last night if I stay?”
    His eyes lit with triumph. “I won’t bother you about being in my library last night,” he clarified, not accepting or arguing the fact. “If you’ll earn your keep.”
    â€œHow?” she asked, realizing he hadn’t promised not to bother her in other ways. He hadn’t promised not to kiss her again.
    And why did that thought send shivers racing down her spine?
    â€œHelp me get this place in working order,” he said, waving his hand at the mansion. “Hire a staff. Get the windows washed. Find a crew to get that dock I inherited out of dry storage and into the water before my schooner arrives. Show Jason the ropes.” He suddenly smiled. “Just put my house in order.”
    Her eyes widened. “Do you mind if I heal while I’m at it?”
    He stood up and grabbed the back of her chair. “Not at all. But last I knew, your fingers weren’t broken. Use the phones you just got working.”
    Rachel didn’t say anything else. She was too busy holding on for dear life as Keenan raced her into the house and through the great room.

    The trouble with most men, Rachel decided, as she was whisked through Sub Rosa’s massive gate and onto the narrow roads of Puffin Harbor, is that they tended to be creatures who liked to take charge. They loved giving orders, and they expected them to be obeyed without argument.
    â€œIs the motor home yours?” Kee asked as he turned Thadd’s shiny red Ferrari into her yard.
    â€œYes. I used to use it for work.”
    â€œYou used a motor home for work?”
    Gripping the door handle like a lifeline as they came to an abrupt halt just behind her truck, Rachel nodded. He was a terror behind the wheel of a car, just as she’d expected. But he was a proficient one, having maneuvered the vehicle with all the skill of a fighter pilot.
    â€œBut you’re an architect. How does a motor home fit into that picture?” he asked, shutting off the engine and turning to face her.
    Rachel calmed her racing heart before she answered. “I used to be an architect,” she corrected, “doing residential design. When I took on an assignment, I camped out on the land my clients wanted to build on. I usually spent one or two weeks there, studying the lay of the ground, the weather, and the…the feel of the place,” she explained, ending with a small shrug. “I couldn’t build until I had a clear picture of what my design would look like on that particular lot.”
    He seemed sincerely fascinated. And maybe surprised. He draped one arm on the back of her seat and looked at her intensely. “Is that how your father worked?” he asked.
    Rachel smiled. “Yes. We camped out on Sub Rosa for nearly six months while our house was being built.”
    Kee turned and looked at her home. “Who designed