One Real Man (Entangled Bliss) ) (14 page)

“Owen?” Paige’s voice pulled him out of his dark thoughts. “I’m sorry I was so short with you. I just have a lot on my mind.”

The smile she gave him was brief, tentative, but it sent a shaft through him.

“I understand.” He paused, wanting to steer the conversation away from her ex-boss. “Thanks for helping me with the clothes, by the way.”

“My pleasure.” Her smile widened. “I enjoyed it.”

“I should have picked up something for Natasha. She’ll be annoyed I went shopping in Sydney and didn’t get her anything.”

“You can take her one weekend, make it a nice treat.”

“Yeah, maybe I will.” Once he’d managed to rope Asquith in as an investor and Bandicoot Creek was safely on its way, it would be good to spend more time with his sister.

“Do you think Argyle House is the right school for Natasha?”

He jerked his head at Paige. “Huh?”

“Maybe it’s not the best place for her.”

Baffled, he stared ahead at the road. The wipers swooshed across the glass, while red taillights glowed through the rain ahead of him.

Paige cleared her throat. “It’s just that I think some of the girls may be manipulating her, making her act out of character.”

“She’s not getting into any trouble,” he answered brusquely. “If she were, I’d know about it.”

“I don’t mean that. I’m talking about something more subtle. I get the impression Natasha feels out of her depth at times.”

His neck muscles tensed. “Oh, yeah? Because she doesn’t belong there? Is that what you mean?”

She rolled her eyes. “Can you forget the chip on your shoulder for once?”

“How can I when you’re pointing it out to me?”

“I’m not—” She broke off to suck in an exasperated breath. “For Christ’s sake, Owen. This isn’t about you, it’s about your sister.”

“Who you think doesn’t fit in at Argyle House. Not stuck-up enough, I suppose. Doesn’t have well-connected family.”

Paige glared at him. “No, instead she has an infuriating, pigheaded brother who takes offense at the slightest remark.”

He blinked at her. “Now that’s not nice.”

“
You’re
not nice,” she huffed. “I’m taking an interest in your sister, and all you do is jump to unflattering conclusions.”

He frowned at the wet road for several moments, uncomfortably aware she was right. Mostly.

“Why are you interested in Natasha, anyway?” he asked.

“Because she’s nice and…” She let out a tiny sigh. “Because she reminds me of myself at that age.”

“You? You and Natasha are”—he shook his head—“are galaxies apart.”

“No,” she murmured, “we’re not all that different.”

She seemed to be speaking more to herself than him. He couldn’t understand the strange mood she was in this afternoon. Maybe visiting Sydney and her former manager had made her realize how far she’d fallen, reduced to a humble housekeeper for her former pool boy. But how could she compare her sixteen-year-old self to Natasha? His sister was eager to please, a little bit goofy, even, whereas Paige had been the ultimate ice princess. No, it didn’t make sense. Maybe the truth was she felt sorry for Natasha. Maybe Natasha had confided in her about being teased at school over him—her uncouth brother. He went hot with irritation at the thought. Hotter still at Paige’s solution. He wasn’t going to let his sister change schools just because she was embarrassed by him.

“You don’t have to worry, and neither does Natasha,” he said tersely. “When I land this Asquith guy, nobody will be embarrassed by me.”

She twisted her neck to stare at him. “Were you even listening to me?”

“I’ve been listening to you all day, and I promise not to wear my old sneakers again.”

“You’re not listening to the most important stuff of all!” Suddenly her face was flooded with color, her eyes electric. “Dammit, Owen, I’m more than just a fashionista!”

The fierce heat in her expression had him easing off the accelerator. He shouldn’t have treated her genuine concern for Natasha so flippantly, he realized. “I’m sorry. I guess I am oversensitive about my humble roots.”

“Huh. And I guess the pope’s a Catholic.”

Her eyes were still sparking. Damn, even when she was mad she was gorgeous. “Can we get back to Natasha? I don’t want to pull her out of Argyle House. She’s getting a first-class education, and she seems settled there. I’ll talk to her about her friends. It’s Gretel you’re worried about, isn’t it?”

Paige nodded. “You have no idea how much influence a girl like her can have on her friends. It happened to me…” She bit her lip. “Astrid Sherwood was my Gretel.”

Owen waited for her to continue, sensing she was revealing something long hidden.

“She and the others used to come over,” Paige added. “Don’t you remember her around the pool?”

“Not much.” The only girl he’d ever had eyes for was Paige. Her friends had just been part of the background.

“Astrid would challenge me to, you know, parade in front of you,” she said slowly, almost reluctantly. “I didn’t dare refuse because she was the queen bee, and I was desperate to stay in her circle.”

He frowned as an unwelcome thought hit him. “You kissed me just because Astrid dared you to?”

“Oh God no! Astrid would have ridiculed me for that.” She lifted her gaze to him. “No, kissing you was all my idea.”

“Yeah?” Hell, why were they stuck on a freeway where he couldn’t use this opportunity to pull her into his arms and show her how great that idea was? But she had already looked away.

“I’ve made mistakes in my past,” she continued hurriedly. “And I hate seeing Natasha repeat them. I didn’t have anyone to advise me, but Natasha has you. You’ll talk to her, won’t you? A proper talk.”

Her concern for his sister touched him more than he cared to admit. In their teenage years he’d gotten Paige all wrong. Her ice princess act had been just that—an act to cover up a mountain of insecurities, just like his moodiness had been a cover for his self-doubts. If they both hadn’t been so screwed up, maybe things might have been different.

“I promise,” he said.

“Good.” Nodding, she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

There was much more about those teenage years he wanted to quiz her about, but the shutters were back on her face. She was a puzzle, all right, but as he admired her classic profile, he got the feeling he was one step closer to solving the mystery that was Paige Kerrigan.

Chapter Ten

Owen stood on the terrace as Gordon Asquith’s helicopter slowly descended toward the lawn. He wriggled his toes in his new shoes, which were a bit too tight. At least he didn’t have to wear a suit; according to Paige, this weekend was about casual country elegance, so here he was in slim-fit beige cotton trousers, a two-tone gingham shirt, and a little ball of nerves in his gut. He wasn’t anxious about meeting this Asquith guy, but he had a lot riding on this weekend.

As the helicopter rotors whipped the air, Paige, standing next to him, pressed her palms to her hair. In her white crossover top and navy-blue pants she looked spotless, capable, and confident, like she entertained billionaires every weekend.

“How do I look?” he asked.

Her lips edged up briefly. “You look great.”

Some of the tension in him eased. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to dress up to her standards once in a while just to get her approval.

Paige was still gazing at him. “Ready?” she said.

She was on his team; together they could knock this weekend out of the ballpark. He nodded. “Let’s go get this.”

They made their way across the lawn toward the helicopter where several people were disembarking. A tall, well-groomed man with iron-gray hair strode toward them.

“Got the right place, have I?” he addressed Owen. “Gordon Asquith.” His voice was loud and booming; his manner oozed confidence.

“Owen Bellamy. Welcome to my home, Mr. Asquith.” They shook hands. Asquith’s grip was crushing, but after years of construction work Owen could more than match him. After a moment the billionaire gave a slight nod that told Owen his handshake had passed inspection.
Right. So the score was even so far
.

He introduced Paige, and they exchanged a few pleasantries. From the helicopter a bald man in a dark suit approached them, wheeling two huge suitcases, while the pilot brought up the rear with another suitcase and a set of golf clubs.

“My butler.” Asquith waved his hand at the bald man. “You were told about Cranston, weren’t you? He travels with me everywhere.”

Owen blinked. He’d been prepared for the mountain of luggage, but a traveling butler? Really?

“Of course,” Paige responded smoothly, not giving a hint that the butler was a surprise to her, too. “Why don’t we go inside and I can show you to your rooms?”

As they returned to the house, Owen could only admire Paige’s finesse. She had already prepared the master suite for Asquith, but now they’d have to scramble to find something suitable for the butler.

Back at the house, Asquith nodded his approval in the impressive entrance hall and reception rooms. They were temporarily alone as Paige had led the butler and the luggage upstairs. Owen went through the mental list of safe conversational topics he’d made after spending several nights reading up on Gordon Asquith’s interests.

“Congratulations on your horse winning the Blue Diamond Stakes,” Owen said.

“Thanks. Are you into horse racing, too?”

Apart from a yearly bet on the Melbourne Cup—like virtually everyone else in Australia—Owen had no interest in racing. “I don’t have much time,” he hedged, “but it sounds fascinating.”

“My family’s been racing horses for generations.” Asquith launched into a detailed history of his horses. After a few minutes of Asquith’s monologue, Owen felt his attention wandering, but luckily the other man didn’t seem to need much input from him.

Paige returned just as Asquith was winding up his speech. “This is prime equestrian country around here,” he said to Owen. “Do you go riding much?”

In Owen’s opinion, horses were skittish animals, and he’d never had any desire to ride one. “No,” he replied. Silence swelled around his stark negative.

Paige cleared her throat. “I used to ride a lot when I was growing up, but unfortunately I don’t have the time anymore.”

Asquith peered more closely at her. “You look familiar to me. Have we met before?”

Owen frowned. Was the guy genuine, or was he just using the oldest pickup line in history?

Paige didn’t seem fazed. “I used to work for Focus Marketing. I organized a product launch where you were the guest of honor.”

“When was that?”

“About two and a half years ago.”

“Hmm.” Asquith looked her up and down. “Yes, that must be it.” As his gaze lingered on her, Owen’s frown deepened. He didn’t like the way the man was studying Paige. There was something wolfish about it.

Paige smiled politely. “It’s a lovely day outside. Why don’t we take a stroll around the gardens before we have lunch?”

“I’ll have to change first. Can’t go walking in these shoes.”

Paige nodded. “Let me show you to your suite.”

She disappeared with Asquith and returned a couple of minutes later. Owen lifted his eyebrows at her. “Is that guy for real? He’s going to change just to take a stroll?”

Paige’s lips twitched. “I told you he was particular.”

“Glad I’m not his butler. Where’s he going to sleep?”

“I made up a bed in the room next to the master suite.” She leaned into Owen, lowering her voice. “It’s important to keep on the right side of Cranston, too. He’s Asquith’s secret weapon. He sees and hears things below stairs, so to speak.”

“Got it.” And Paige was his not-so-secret weapon. She was standing close enough for him to catch a hint of her perfume. He longed to dip his head, press his face against her neck, and inhale deeply. Their relationship constantly swung between hot and cold, but the urge to hold her, to kiss her, was always there, a chronic hunger. Today they were allies, and watching her deal so easily with Asquith sharpened his craving.

He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek but remembered himself and forced it to drop. “I’m glad you’re here. I haven’t spent one hour with the guy and already it feels like five. He likes talking about himself, I’ve noticed.”

“Men like that are focused on themselves and their own interests.” She shrugged. “Just like my dad.” She glanced toward the doorway. “Come on, I can hear him walking down the stairs.”

Owen followed her automatically. Had Paige never had a decent man in her life? Her dad, her husband, her boss—none of them had ever really appreciated her.

He didn’t have time to contemplate as Asquith reappeared in fresh clothes.

They walked out into the garden. The weather was mild, and the trees were putting on a show of autumn color. Asquith was a self-important bore. He couldn’t stop giving Owen advice on how to improve the garden, constantly comparing it to his various estates. Owen lost count of how many properties the business mogul owned. He nodded and tried to make interesting comments as Asquith went on about espaliered trees, knot gardens, and outdoor sculptures. The doer in Owen hankered to broach the subject of Bandicoot Creek. He itched to get down to business, but knew he had to bide his time, as frustrating as that was. All this seemingly irrelevant chitchat about horses and gardens was necessary to make Asquith feel comfortable—the magnate’s ego had to be stroked.

“Not a bad little place you’ve got here,” Asquith commented as they stood at a lookout and admired the view of the rolling hills in the distance.

Owen tensed at the patronizing remark, but Paige caught his eye. “Thanks. I like it,” he said, but he could hear how gruff he sounded. Asquith lifted one eyebrow as he’d done several times already, a gesture that was beginning to grate on Owen’s nerves.

“I brought my golf clubs with me,” Asquith said. “Think we could have a game tomorrow?”

Owen hesitated. He was a terrible golfer. Also, he wasn’t a member of the country club, and hell had a better chance of freezing over than him booking a game for tomorrow. Finally, he had no golfing clothes or equipment.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Paige answered for him. “It’s short notice, but there might be a cancellation or something.”

Asquith smirked at her. “Perfect.”

Owen buried his fists in his trouser pockets. God, how he hated Asquith’s smarmy smile, especially when it was directed at Paige. Worse, she didn’t seem to mind. She even smiled back at the pompous ass as she said, “Why don’t we head back to the house for lunch?”

As they walked back, Owen sneaked a glance at his phone. The visit was only two hours in. He bit back a groan. This weekend was going to feel like a month.

…

“I swear I’m going to punch him before the weekend is over,” Owen muttered as he walked into the kitchen after lunch.

Paige glanced up from the dishwasher, where she was stacking the dirty lunch dishes. “No punching. Smile and play nice.”

“I’m beginning to think that’s impossible with this guy. Everything he does grates on me.” He frowned at her. “Didn’t it bother you how nitpicky he was over lunch? Nothing was right. The mineral water was the wrong brand, the butter was too chilly, the asparagus was too soggy. Christ, I don’t know how I kept my cool in there.”

Paige had noticed him getting antsy. A vein had started pulsing in his temple, his knuckles had whitened as he clenched his fork, and the waves of frustration rolling off him had been palpable. She’d never realized how attuned she was to Owen’s moods until today. As she’d sat through lunch, she’d sensed him ticking like a time bomb, set to explode at something Asquith said. She’d felt like a lion tamer losing control of the beast.

“Remember why you’re doing this,” she said. “When you sign him on as a major investor, all the aggravation will be worth it.”

“Hmm. Glad you said ‘when,’ not ‘if.’”

“I’m confident you can pull it off.”

She was, too. Owen was intelligent and determined. He might not be slick and superficially charming, but his honesty was plain to see. He’d get Gordon Asquith on board eventually. Asquith might be an inveterate snob, but he was also a shrewd businessman, and he’d soon see the advantages of investing in Owen’s project.

“I hope so.” Owen rested hands on hips, his gaze moving to the view out the window. “I really want Bandicoot Creek to happen, not just for me, but for Jim and Heidi, too.”

At the mention of Heidi’s name, Paige’s chest panged. She looked at Owen, but he was still staring out the window, a contemplative expression on his face. Was he thinking about Heidi? Missing her?

“I owe them a lot,” he continued. “Jim made me a partner in the business when he didn’t have to. He’s like a second father to me.”

And Heidi? Was she like a sister to him, or something more? Her fingers cramped around the dishcloth she was holding.

“And Heidi is so…” He rubbed his jaw. “She’s so sweet and caring. She’d give her last dollar away if she thought it’d help someone.”

The dishcloth shook in her clenched fists. Sweet, caring Heidi. She was such a saint.
And I’m definitely not
.

“I want to get Bandicoot Creek up and running for her, too. She’s been doing scut work for too long. She deserves to take on some real responsibilities.”

Oh, great. Owen and Heidi would make such a perfect team. And such a cute couple. Damn, why did that hurt so much? She wasn’t jealous of Heidi. She didn’t want Owen calling
her
sweet and caring. But the sick cramp in her stomach told her she was a liar.

She was lying if she said she didn’t want Owen. She did want him, but not on a permanent basis; she just wanted him for a short while—to exorcise once and for all the dark, secret fantasies she’d nursed for him for ages. He was an itch buried deep into her skin, and if she could just get at it and scratch it, then she could let go of the past completely and get on with her life.

Her reverie was broken by Owen jingling the keys in his pocket. “I came to tell you that Asquith and I are going for a drive. We’re going to inspect the site.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows shot up. “So you
have
been talking business.”

“In a way. I mentioned the site was next to the golf course, so he was interested in taking a look at both.” He paused, shooting her an inquiring look. “About golf tomorrow…”

“My parents are old friends with the secretary. I’ll ring him up and see if I can swing a few favors.”

“Don’t know if it would be a favor, given how crappy I am at golf. Plus I don’t have any clubs or clothes.”

“You can get all your kit at the pro shop. And Asquith will love it if you’re bad. It’ll make him feel superior.”

“Then he’s going to love me after the first hole.” He grinned at her. “Thanks again. You’re a real lifesaver this weekend.”

His unexpected smile made her tingle with pleasure, but as soon as she realized it, she caught her breath in dismay. She didn’t want to become another Heidi, gazing at him like a lovesick puppy.

She turned back to the dishwasher. “No problem,” she said, offhand. “Just doing my job.”

He paused as if wanting to say something more, but he just murmured, “Thanks, anyway. I’ll see you in a while.”

Alone once more, she glared at the dishwasher. She really wanted to help Owen achieve his dream, but doing that would only push him closer to Heidi. The logical part of her said that would be a good thing, but a part of her—the selfish, bratty part of her—couldn’t stand the idea. Sighing, she grabbed the last dish. This weekend couldn’t end fast enough for her.

…

Suppressing a yawn, Paige dug her fingernails into her palm to keep herself awake. Across from her, Owen sat with his elbows resting on his knees. He was sitting forward to stop himself from dozing off, she felt sure. In the wingback armchair, Gordon Asquith lounged easily, an almost-empty brandy snifter in one hand and cigar in the other, as he pontificated about something or other. She’d lost track of the subject a while ago.

Dinner had ended a few hours earlier. They had all settled in the den, Asquith insisting she join them. Since then, he’d held them captive, not with his scintillating conversation but his sheer arrogance. He needed Owen’s project, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Asquith was a bully, just as she’d suspected, and her opinion of him had sunk with every hour he was here.

She watched with growing ire as he finished off his brandy. Why did Owen need this egotist, anyway? He wasn’t the only potential investor around.

“Would you like a refill?” Owen asked, the dutiful host even though Paige was sure he was longing to leave just like she was.