Desire by Design (4 page)

Eve’s supple lips curved. Slowing down to navigate a sharp corner, she turned onto a quiet street and headed for the south end of the city.

“I’m really a very good driver,” she assured him. “I’ve never had an accident.” She peered at him again, and Matt found himself holding his breath when her smile deepened. “Mind you, I’ve only had my license for three weeks.”

His jaw started to drop and then he snapped it shut. “That’s a joke, right?”

“Good heavens. Lighten up a little. Of course, it’s a joke. I—”

Something on the sidewalk caught her attention. She muttered an exclamation and slammed on the brakes, throwing them both forward against their locked seatbelts. Matt grabbed for the dash with both hands, then looked over to make sure she was okay.

“Sorry,” she said. “I thought I saw someone I knew.”

If so, then it wasn’t a person she liked. Her hand trembled slightly on the gearshift, and it took her a moment to get the car back in motion, but it was the expression on her face that struck Matt the most. Her eyes darted back and forth like she was scanning the terrain for enemy snipers. She looked almost…

Hunted
was the word that sprang to mind.

Eve hoped she had lipstick on her teeth. The way Matt had stared at her during the rest of the drive meant it was either that, or he thought she was crazy.

She paused in the doorway of the large reception room and gave her front teeth a quick, furtive buff with her thumb just to be safe. Nope. No lipstick. He thought she was crazy.

She didn’t blame him. She wanted to get this evening over with as quickly as possible. She wasn’t in the mood for dodging budget questions on a design that didn’t exist, and diplomacy wasn’t one of her strengths. Neither did she care for this type of function. She didn’t golf, she didn’t sail, and she didn’t have a million dollars to give away to some worthy cause.

But Matt looked all male-model gorgeous in a charcoal-gray suit that had to have been custom-made for him. He fit right in. This was his world, not hers.

He gestured for her to precede him through the doorway, and when she took a step forward, he placed a hand on the small of her back. His thumb subtly skimmed the swell of her hip. Eve wrestled a spontaneous, bone-melting desire to arch against his touch like a cat at a scratching post, then almost had a panic attack. She edged away from his lingering hand, aware she was overreacting to what amounted to nothing more than a gentlemanly gesture.

Matt grabbed them a glass of wine from a passing waiter as a smiling middle-aged woman in her forties, with artificial blond hair and an ill-fitting dress, jiggled her matronly body in their direction. Eve, glad for the diversion, scanned her memory, trying to come up with a name. Marion Something-or-other. Provincial Government, Department of Tourism and Culture.

Her stomach let out a little flutter of excitement. Eve had been trying for months to get work with these people. They had a few restoration projects that she’d love to be involved in.

The older woman extended a heavily ringed hand. “Hello, Ms. Doucette. I was hoping I might see you here this evening. We’ve never been formally introduced. I’m Marion Balcom.” Her gaze swept over to include Matt. “And you must be Matt Brison,” she said, shaking hands with him, too, before zeroing back in on Eve. “It’s amazing how fast Bob made all this happen, isn’t it? There hasn’t been much press coverage on this whole project, yet already Culture and Tourism has been fielding calls from the Historical Society regarding what will happen to the current City Hall building.”

“I’m the project manager,” Eve explained, her head still foggy from the touch of Matt’s hand. She took a sip of her drink. “I’m in charge of the expenditures and cost analyses, so that’s not really my area, but it’s my understanding that the old Hall has been slated for decommission.”

“Then the old Hall isn’t worth saving?”

Eve was no good at figuring out what information people were really trying to get from her, and it was obvious Marion wanted something. For Eve’s part, she wanted to make a good impression.

“That depends on how much money you’re willing to spend on it,” she replied carefully. “According to the engineer’s report the answer is yes, it can be saved, but if the building is to be decommissioned, then my guess would be the city can’t afford the expense of renovating. Sometimes it’s cheaper to start from scratch.”

“Hmm.” Marion’s eyes again rested on Matt, who’d been quietly listening. “Mr. Brison, I thought your designs tended to be much more sophisticated than anything our quiet little city would require. Hadn’t other plans already been approved?”

Again, Eve wondered where Marion was headed with her questioning. She was on the prowl for something, though.

“This is a design/build project,” Matt explained. “The preliminary blueprints are used as a guideline so the general contractor can provide cost estimates and a timeline for completion. I’ll be the one making sure the client gets what they really want for the final design.”

His eyes went to Eve on that last comment, as if he were trying to get her concurrence. Well, he wasn’t going to get it. Clearly, he needed a reminder that technically, in this instance, he worked for the general contractor and not the client—and there was a difference between what the client might want and what the client could afford. Architects tended to forget funny little details like that.

She opened her mouth to speak as their host wove his way through the crowd toward them. Tall, with a thick shock of silver hair and blue eyes much the same color as his nephew’s, Bob’s face was a wreath of smiles.

Eve clenched her teeth. The last time he’d smiled at her like that, she’d found herself working pro bono. And the thing about free labor was that one tended to get what one paid for.

Which reminded her, she still had some doors to shave down and hang at that Internet café. The other volunteers didn’t know how, and the bathroom doors had to be installed for the café to pass a building inspection.

“Hey, Matt. Evie.” Bob pumped her hand. “You look absolutely beautiful this evening. Glad you could make it. By the way, thanks for picking Matt up.” His voice carried, and a few people laughed. Even Marion smiled.

Eve’s cheeks stung with heat. “The hotel was on my way,” she said, willing him to spontaneously combust. The twitch of a muscle under Matt’s jaw indicated he was trying to control a grin of his own.

“I see my husband’s hooked up with a colleague,” Marion said, excusing herself. “Never leave two healthcare specialists from the same research study alone at a party. They’ll be talking about infectious diseases all evening if I don’t go put a stop to it.”

“We’ll find time to chat later,” Bob said to her. He shifted his drink to his other hand and turned back to Eve.

Her fingers curled around her wineglass. She vowed she was not going to let him talk her into anything, but he had a way of getting what he wanted that was truly astounding. In a previous lifetime, he’d no doubt sold snake oil to unsuspecting settlers.

“Be honest,” Bob said as he clapped a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Now that you’ve met him, you have to agree that getting Mattie to do the design for City Hall is a real coup. He’ll set a precedent for modernizing this city, and before you know it, we’ll be on the international map.”

Matt lifted his eyebrows.
Well
? His amused look challenged her.
Am I a coup or what
?

“We’re already on the international map,” Eve said, trying to ignore Matt’s efforts to make her smile back at him. It was no easy feat—that was one killer smile he possessed.

“We have one of the largest and deepest natural harbors along the Eastern seaboard. And for the record,” she added, “I don’t think the city needs to be modernized. More and more historic sites are being lost to glass and steel projects with no character. Glass and steel certainly have their place, but if we don’t protect our downtown district, it will no longer have the atmosphere that makes it such an attraction to tourists and movie companies.”

Bob gave a low chuckle, as if she’d said something cute. Eve had the horrible fear he was about to pat her on the head. If he did, she’d be forced to lay him out flat at his own reception. She tolerated him calling her
Evie
, but she had boundaries.

“Sweetheart, there’s more to attracting tourism and movie companies to the downtown core than a few old buildings.”

Eve refocused the conversation. “What about the budget?” she asked. “Sullivan Construction has already won the contract. Technically Matt works for us now, and our budget dictates his plans will have to be a bit more practical than he’s used to.”

“Excuse me for interrupting, but my plans are always practical.” Matt’s deceptively soft voice rumbled above her head, enveloping Eve’s insides in a sudden flash of heat. He had a voice like polished oak. Solid, but smooth. “Every inch of space is both usable and aesthetic.”

“But can you make sure it’s affordable, too?” she challenged, determined not to forget where her loyalties lay.

“That’s what I like about you, Evie.” Bob nodded a greeting to a cadaverous man in a dark suit walking by. “You’re so passionate when it comes to money. Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?”

Eve set her untouched drink on a nearby table, the blood pounding in her temples like the low, slow throbbing of a drum. She’d show him just how passionate she could be when the necessity arose. She was tired of Bob not taking her seriously. “I get paid to worry about budget money.”

“Uncle Bob.” Matt’s firm hand took possession of Eve’s punching arm. “Do you mind if I borrow Eve for a few moments?”

“Not at all,” Bob said, already scanning the room like a shark sniffing out blood in the water. “You kids go have fun.”

Matt hustled her down a short hall, through an open set of sliding glass doors, and onto a small flagstone patio cobwebbed in shadows.

“In most circles, it’s considered impolite to punch your host in the nose,” he said, once they were outside. He sounded amused, but it was hard for Eve to tell in the dark.

“I wasn’t going to punch Bob,” she protested, ninety-nine percent certain she was telling the truth. “I was only going to give him my opinion.”

“That can be just as bloody, sometimes. I thought you might want to think about it for a few moments.” He released her arm as if reluctant to do so, his fingers lingering long enough to make Eve’s mouth go dry. “If you still want to give him your opinion after that, hey, I’ll even hold him down for you.”

“Bob could use a good opinion every once in a while.” Eve pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know why I let him get to me,” she nearly growled.

“I’m sure he gets to a lot of people,” Matt said.

“Now there’s an understatement.”

Eve dropped onto one of the stone benches, the sweet scent from a mock orange bush drifting on the fresh evening air that whispered over her bare skin. Light streamed through large windows, bathing a section of the small patio in a gentle glow. A leafy grape arbor hid them from sight if anyone should happen to glance outside. Matt settled beside her, stretching out his long legs. She leaned forward and propped her chin on her hand, then tilted her head sideways to look up at him. A jolt of awareness tightened her chest in a way that was hard to ignore, but Eve tried her best. She doubted they shared the same sense of humor. He was far from spontaneous. She suspected he was more than a little uptight, in fact.

And they were colleagues. She wasn’t planning to let attraction overrule common sense, not when it came to her work, but being friendly would get her more cooperation than acting crazy. Matt wasn’t to blame for the things his uncle said or did. Or what Claude had done, either.

“Since we’re going to be working together, there’s something you should know about me. I have a quick temper,” she said.

He clapped a hand over his heart. “I would never have guessed.”

That made her laugh. “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

The last of her anger wafted away. She shouldn’t let Bob’s cavalier attitude irritate her so much. She was, indeed, passionate about her work, and these days, it was all the passion she seemed to possess. She wiggled her toes inside her narrow shoes, keenly aware of the male presence beside her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been alone in the dark with a man, and just like that, Eve realized the dangerous position she’d put herself in. She wasn’t ready for another man in her life.

And this was most definitely the wrong man for her even if she were. Matt was a rich and famous architect. She’d be nothing more than entertainment to someone like him. She had more self-respect than that, and she’d earned it the hard way.

She eased away from him so that they weren’t sitting so close.

“Uncle Bob’s not so bad once you get to know him,” Matt said.

Eve had known Bob for three years, and so far, she hadn’t seen any real improvement. He could be charming, yes, but he never did anything without a motive. Quite frankly, he made her head tired.

“Why did he insist Sullivan Construction hire you, anyway?” she asked. She couldn’t see what would be in this for Matt. He certainly wasn’t doing it for the glory. Or the money. “You must have more important projects you could be working on.”

“Yes, but this project is important to my uncle.” Eve could feel the affection in his smooth voice. In fact, she felt it all the way to her toes. “He’s been good to my mother and me. I’m grateful to be given the opportunity to do something for him in return.”

She couldn’t argue with that. “But you’re working for the contractor,” Eve felt compelled to remind him.

Matt studied the tips of his shoes with casual disinterest. “So I’ve heard.”

“And I control the budget.”

“I keep hearing that, too.”

“Since those two things are true,” she persisted, “your design will have to meet with my approval before it goes to the client.”

Matt tapped the fingers of one hand against his pant leg. He turned his attention from the tips of his shoes to her face.

“Why didn’t you just come right out and tell me that you did the preliminary design when I introduced myself?” he asked.