Love and Other Surprises (12 page)

“Yes,” she breathed. “Are you?”

Golden eyes poured into hers. The blood in her veins suddenly seemed warmer and thicker and faster, pumping through her body in double time.

Her pulse pounded in her ears and she wasn’t sure she could breathe.
Maybe I’ll pass out,
she thought wildly.
Maybe I’d be better off if I did.

Her gaze fell on his mouth. His lips were slightly parted and close—so very close. They looked full and firm and… delicious. Was he going to kiss her?

“Yes,” he said thickly.

She thought he was reading her mind. It took her a moment to realize he was responding to her earlier question.

His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on her ribs, and she glanced up again at his eyes. The desire she saw there was a mirror of her own. His gaze slid slowly to her lips. He raised his head, and she lowered hers.

The contact was everything she remembered and more—explosive, jarring, melting. She parted her lips and closed her eyes, awash in ripples of sweet heat. His tongue demanded entrance. She granted it and moved against him, oblivious to everything but Matt’s hard, firm body beneath her, his mouth moving on hers, his hands doing the very things she’d fantasized.

The sound of an approaching truck engine vaguely entered her consciousness. “Someone’s coming,” Matt whispered abruptly. “I’ll help you up.”

A pair of strong arms pushed her up and off. Disoriented, Ali opened her eyes as she landed in a sitting position. Matt stood above her, stretching down a hand. She reflexively reached up for it and let him haul her to her feet.

She stood just as a green pickup with the Cimarron Home-builders logo on the door rounded the corner. Matt waved to the two employees inside, who stared at them with frankly curious expressions.

“That was a damn fool stunt you just pulled,” he said in a tight voice.

Ali felt heat suffuse her face from her neck to the roots of her hair. She had to admit she’d been shamelessly willing, but why was he placing all the blame on her?

“It so happens
you
kissed
me,
” she retorted.

Matt jammed his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight uneasily. “That’s not what I’m talking about—although it wouldn’t have happened if you’d followed directions. Why didn’t you wait in the truck and let me get the door for you?”

Ali crossed her arms defensively. She was still trying to recover from the breathless way his kiss had affected her. She lifted her head, met his blazing eyes and decided she’d give as good as she got. If he could channel his passion into anger, she could, too.

“There’s no need to give me special treatment just because I’m a woman,” she replied. “I’m your business partner, and I’m perfectly capable of opening my own doors.”

Matt scowled and swatted a leaf off the sleeve of his jacket. “Yeah, and of knocking me down in the process.” He slapped at his other sleeve and shot her a frown. “For your information, I wasn’t trying to open the door just to be polite. I parked on an incline and I was trying to keep you from breaking your neck when you got out of the truck.”

Heat flooded Ali’s cheeks. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?” she said indignantly.

Matt shrugged and pulled his hands from his pockets. “I didn’t know I needed to. I hadn’t figured you for the type to get offended at a simple courteous gesture.”

The comment made Ali bristle. How dare he twist things around so that she sounded like the rudest sort of ingrate? Ali huffily turned away, only to find the house with the round turret directly in her line of vision. The sight put a damper on her indignation.

She needed to stay on peaceable terms with Matt if she were going to work with him. She couldn’t afford to indulge her temper, and she definitely couldn’t afford to tell him what she really thought of him and his high-handed ways.

It takes a strong person to admit a mistake,
she reminded herself. She brushed a stray wisp of hair from her face, drew a deep, steadying breath and unclenched her teeth. “I didn’t mean to hit you with the door,” she forced herself to say.
Even if it did serve you right.

Her admission seemed to catch him off guard. An expression of confusion and wariness flitted across his face and he raked a hand through his hair. “Well, I didn’t mean to get carried away. It won’t happen again,” he mumbled. He looked away, then glanced back at her. “You’d better brush off your jacket. The framing foreman’s coming and you’re covered with leaves.”

Ali wiped at her sleeve as an enormous man with the reddest complexion she’d ever seen approached.

Matt managed to put a smile on his face. “Hi, Jim. Looks like you’ve been busy out here.” He pumped the man’s hand and turned to Ali. “Ali, this is Jim Bentmore, our framing foreman. Most folks call him Big Jim. Jim, this is Robert’s sister. She’s going to be handling the interior design of the first three houses.”

Jim smiled broadly and doffed his baseball cap. “Well, well. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Ali replied, immediately liking the man’s open, friendly face. She cast a quick glance at Matt, surprised that he had so graciously introduced her in her new role. She’d halfway expected him to downplay the part she was going to play in the development.

“I thought the world of your brother,” Big Jim was saying, his brown eyes warm and sincere. He turned to Matt and nodded. “Good idea, getting a woman’s touch. Smart thinkin’.”

Matt shoved his hands in his pockets.“Yeah, well…” he muttered. He shifted his stance. “Let’s go take a look at how things are coming along.”

The path was narrow and they trudged along in single file as they wended their way through the trees to the house. Ali followed behind Jim, glad to have another person along to act as a buffer.

She had just begun to relax her tensed muscles when she felt a warm brush against her back. She was certain it wasn’t an overhanging branch; a tree would never cause that tingling sensation to shoot up her spine. It was the same telling thrill that raced through her every time Matt touched her.

Ali turned around sharply. Matt raised an eyebrow and held up two leaves he’d evidently just plucked off her coat. Ali scurried to catch up with Jim. There was something unnervingly intimate about Matt brushing off her clothes—especially when he was doing it so surreptitiously. It made her feel as if they had a secret to keep, as if they’d been lying in the leaves like lovers.

Which they had.
Ali’s pulse still throbbed from the feel of his body beneath hers. She’d nearly lost her head, despite the fact it was broad daylight and they’d been in plain sight of the road. She’d been so overwhelmed she’d lost all track of time and space.

She was certain Matt had, too. His reaction had been heated and primal, and he no doubt blamed her for his own unbridled behavior.

Confound him anyway! And confound her for being so drawn to his infuriating, bossy, know-it-all self.

Ali felt Matt brush the back of her jacket again and quickened her stride. The more distance she kept between herself and Matt Jordan, the better off she was going to be.

Three weeks later, Matt took a sip of coffee and grimaced. “What the heck have you done to the coffee, Hattie?”

Hattie pushed a file across his desk and peered over the top of her glasses at him. “Don’t you like it?” she asked mildly.

Matt wrinkled his nose. “It doesn’t taste normal.”

Hattie sorted through the stack of papers in his out box. “Everyone else thinks it’s delicious.”

Matt took another cautious sip. “What did you do to it?” he repeated.

“Actually, nothing.” Hattie picked up a manila envelope and flattened the fastener on it. “Ali made it.”

Matt rolled his eyes.

Hattie shot him a disapproving look. “I thought it was delightful,” she said. “It’s a flavored blend—Amaretto Mocha Cherry Cordial Creme.”

“What kind of coffee is that for an office?” Matt demanded. “It tastes like it ought to have one of those little umbrellas floating in it.”

“I think it’s a pleasant change,” Hattie replied.

“Who said the coffee needed to be changed?” Matt groused.

Hattie’s expression told Matt she was clearly exasperated. “I’ll make you a separate pot for you if you like.”

The offer made Matt feel petty. “Don’t bother,” he muttered. “You’ve got more important things to do.”

“Sometimes a little change is good for the soul, Matt.” She leveled a knowing look at him and sauntered out of his office.

Matt expelled a heavy breath the moment the door closed behind her. If that were the case, his soul should be in prime condition, he thought glumly. Pushing back his chair, he stood and strode to the window, shoving a lock of hair away from his forehead.

Ali had been here less than a month and her “little changes” were driving him crazy. A new surprise confronted him everywhere he turned, and he hated surprises. He’d had enough of those to last a lifetime when he was a child, and he placed a high value on order and consistency and reliability.

It wasn’t that the changes were all bad ones, he thought begrudgingly, but they sure weren’t necessary, either.

Ali had rearranged everything from the stacks of paper by the copy machine to the pens and pencils in the supply closet. Robert’s old office was completely unrecognizable with its new rugs and lamps and pictures, and the break room now had a vitamin water vending machine that Ali had convinced a local vending company to install. The reception area boasted water-grown bamboo, the telephone played music whenever the hold button was pressed and the conference room sported a palm tree in the corner. She’d even managed to make the men’s room smell like baby powder.

The most maddening aspect of it all was that the staff seemed to love it. In fact, her decorating zeal seemed to be contagious; work areas were being spruced up throughout the office building and grounds. Yesterday he’d even caught Big Jim Bentmore hanging air freshener in the storage shed.

Matt frowned. He didn’t like it—-not one little bit. It was bad enough he had to act like a hermit, hiding out in his office to avoid her. His body had become a traitor; just seeing her set him on edge, interfered with his ability to concentrate and sent his thoughts down distinctly lustful paths. Not seeing her didn’t eradicate the condition, but at least it kept it from escalating.

Well, he might have to temporarily put up with having her at the office, but he didn’t have to put up with total upheaval. Each change she’d made had seemed so benign at the time that he’d let it go unchallenged, but they’d added up to the point where he felt like a stranger in his own place of business.

Matt’s jaw settled into a determined line. The situation was completely out of control. It was time he had a talk with her, Matt thought firmly. She needed to know exactly who was in charge here.

He strode purposefully down the hall to Ali’s office only to find the door open but the room empty. Matt looked around at the new sofa, the grouping of paintings on the wall, the patterned rug and the flowers on the credenza, and shook his head. It was hard to even remember what this room had looked like before.

Where was she? Matt had no idea what she was actually working on. For all he knew, today’s project might involve stenciling daffodils on the ceiling. He’d start with the conference room; maybe she was arranging lace throw pillows on the leather chairs.

Matt thrust open the door to the conference room and stopped dead in his tracks. Gathered around the table was the oddest assortment of people he’d ever seen.

Two identical elderly ladies in identical pink flowered dresses sat on opposite sides of the table. Matt looked at one, then the other, then back again, thinking they were some kind of mirror trick. They were both as plump as roasting hens and had brightly rouged cheeks that bobbed like apples above their mutiple chins.

A thin, sour-faced man with a waxed handlebar mustache sat next to one of them, and a bearded gentleman dressed like Abraham Lincoln sat beside the other. To his right was a young woman with spiky pink hair and a nose ring.

At one end of the table sat the mayor of Hillsboro, and at the other end, looking as if she were presiding over a meeting of Fortune Five Hundred executives, sat Ali.

“Oh, uh, excuse me.” Matt started to back out of the room, anxious to beat a retreat and close the door on the lot of them.

“Matt, come in,” Ali said. She fixed him with a smile of such blinding intensity that he froze like a frog in a flashlight beam.

Matt kept his hand on the doorknob as Ali turned to the motley group. “I’d like to introduce Matt Jordan, the president of our company. Matt, I’d like you to meet our showcase committee.” She nodded her head toward one of the rosy-cheeked women. “This is Fay Hawthorne, and her sister, Gay. They own the local bed, bath and fabric store, Suds ’n Duds. They’re going to loan us bed and bath furnishings. They’ve also generously agreed to custom-make the draperies at cost.”

“Oo-oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” one tittered in a high-pitched voice as she batted her eyes at him.

“I’m sure,” the other simpered.

Matt shifted uncomfortably and tried not to stare. “Nice to meet you,” he mumbled.

Ali stretched a hand toward the Lincolnesque character. “This is Charles Goodson. He owns Good Ole Time Antiques. He’s going to loan us some of the furniture for the show homes. He’s also offered to provide us with period costumes for the hostesses to wear.”

“Uh, great,” Matt said.
Hostesses? Costumes? What the hell was she talking about?

“This is Nathan Bradley of Bradley Furniture. He’s going to loan us appliances and the rest of the furnishings.”

Matt forced himself to smile in response to the man’s curt nod.

“And this is Jamie Zumwaldt. She runs the Starving Artists Art Gallery and she’s offered to provide artwork.”

The pink-haired girl raised two fingers of a gloved hand. “Yo.”

Matt swallowed hard. “Um… yo,” he repeated.

“And I believe you know the mayor, Aaron Moxie.”

“The Victorian Village will be a fine addition to our fair city,” the mayor intoned, mopping his bald crown with a handkerchief. “Just the ticket to put Hillsboro on the map. Nice to see you again, Matt.”