Strictly Business (12 page)

Oh, forget it
, she thought, and jammed the hat back on. Getting dirty was part of her job, and she’d be damned before she was ashamed of her appearance.

“This is Marilee from Custom Interiors,” Nick said, introducing them.

Jess held out her hand … and noticed the bright red glove covering it. She yanked it off.

“I’m sorry,” she said, offering her hand again.

The woman raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and gingerly touched Jess’s hand for a split second. Jess wished she looked even more disreputable. Maybe that snobby eyebrow would shoot right off the woman’s head.

“Mr. Mikaris tells me you’re the landscapes” Marilee said. “I need to ask you about the terrace landscaping.”

“Fine,” Jess said, smiling politely.

“Now, how exactly will the terrace be done? In concrete or red brick?”

“Flagstone.”

“But that’s so … gray.”

Jess widened her smile. “I believe that’s the only color flagstone comes in.”

“I’d like to suggest, Mr. Mikaris,” the woman said, turning to Nick, “that you have a red brick patio with a wood overhang. We could use white wrought-iron
furniture, and have pots and pots of flowers dripping down from the overhang …”

Nick looked over at Jess, his expression questioning. She shook her head, knowing it was all wrong for an Elizabethan farmhouse.

“I’m afraid the flagstone has already been ordered,” Nick said, shrugging.

“Oh, dear. The brick patio would have made a lovely architectural statement with the old-fashioned farmhouse. I’d better look inside the house right away to see what we can salvage.”

The woman shifted her briefcase meaningfully, and Nick led her away.

“ ‘Architectural statement’ my grandmother,” Jess spat, watching them go.

That woman, she decided, would ruin the house with her ridiculous “statements.” Pulling her glove back on, she stalked after them.

She entered the house just in time to hear the woman say, “Let’s go through the house once, very quickly, and I’ll throw out my initial reactions. Then we’ll go over it again more slowly and make our working decisions.”

Oh, brother
, Jess thought, then smiled as Marilee glanced at her.

“Now for the foyer …” The woman twirled around in a circle. “I see bright impressionist prints, and Louis Quatorze tables.”

Jess caught Nick’s eye and made a face.

Tapping her notebook with her pen, Marilee led the way into the living room. “Here, I see lovely clusters of yellow and black furniture groupings. We could do some of the fabrics in plaids.”

Nick glanced over at Jess. She curled her lip in a sneer. His expression was neutral, yet she sensed he was smothering a grin.

As they moved from room to room, it became a game.

In the dining room, the decorator said, “Oriental. Definitely Oriental.”

Jess rolled her eyes heavenward.

“Ultramodern,” the woman said, for the kitchen.

Jess shuddered.

“The den should be heavy antiques,” Marilee proclaimed.

Jess pulled her hat down over her eyes.

Girlish French provincial was the stamp of approval for the small bedroom.

Jess’s hands pushed down on an imaginary dynamite blaster, then shot outward, imitating an explosion.

The middle two bedrooms were tagged as “simple contemporary.”

The decorator’s suggestion was tagged out.

The master bedroom “had” to be done in sleek art deco.

Jess put her hands around her throat and made a gagging motion.

Through it all, Nick’s face was a study in neutrality. Jess wasn’t sure with which she was having the most fun, trying to hide her opinions from the decorator, or trying to crack Nick’s stony exterior.

The final touch came when the decorator suggested that the master bath be done in foil wallpaper to “surprise and delight the user’s senses.”

Jess crossed her forefingers and waved them around as if to ward off vampires.

Nick finally broke down. He bared his teeth at her. Jess choked on her laughter.

“Well, Mr. Mikaris,” Marilee said, after they had moved into the upper hallway. “Shall we do our second tour?”

He drew in a visible breath. Jess could pretty well guess what he would say, and she smiled to herself.

“While all your suggestions have been truly … unique, Marilee,” he said, “I’m afraid they’re not what I wanted for the house.”

The decorator snapped her notebook shut and folded it in her arms.

“And what did you have in mind?” she asked frostily.

“Something a little more in line with the setting, more …” He looked helplessly at Jess.

“What Mr. Mikaris means,” Jess said, stepping closer, “is that this house, being the model, has to appeal to the buyer’s senses in a particular way. It should project a relaxed, get-away-from-the-rat-race image. It’s a farmhouse, and it has to have that country living charm. Laura Ashley prints for the furniture and wall coverings; baskets filled with knitting or flowers; maybe a pewter-and-wood motif in the—”

“How droll,” Marilee said. “If this is what you want, Mr. Mikaris, then I’m afraid I can’t help you. Custom Interiors prides itself on being in the forefront of interior design. We will bill you, of course, for our time.”

“Of course,” Nick said.

With a huff of indignation, the woman walked away and down the stairs to the front door.

Nick turned to Jess and advanced on her. She
smiled innocently and backed away until her bottom touched the wall.

“Now, Nick,” she said in a placating voice. “You know her suggestions were all wrong.”

“You got any suggestions for a new decorator?” he demanded, bracing his palms against the wall on either side of her shoulders.

“Well, no. But, Nick, she just didn’t understand the house.”

“Well, I have a suggestion for a decorator,” he said, staring into her eyes. Their mouths were inches apart. “Since you understand the house, you can decorate it, too.”

“Me!” she exclaimed.

“You. I didn’t build this house as a statement, and I damn well don’t want the inside ruined by some flake. You can find a decorator willing to do the gofer work, but you do the house. Have fun, Jess.”

“But I’m a landscaper!”

“You’ve got Hulk One and Hulk Two to do the outside work. All you have to do with the house is tell the decorator what we want and make sure she gets it.”

“Nick, listen—”

His kiss silenced her. Her surprise was instantly overtaken by a rush of desire. Their mouths pressed together, tasting each other in growing hunger, and Jess’s mind and body were instantly filled with the sensations of their lovemaking.

When he finally lifted his head, she sighed blissfully and straightened her tilted sun hat.

“Make me a home, Jess,” he said in a low voice.

“Yes,” she murmured, knowing that she’d love to do it.

“Good.” He kissed her lightly. “We’d both better get back to work before I forget my promise.”

He walked away.

Jess sighed again and looked around the hallway. So many ideas were already running through her head. Despite the extra work, she couldn’t help smiling in anticipation.

Then her smile faded slowly.

“Make me a home,” he’d said.

And that, her heart admitted, was exactly what she wanted to do.

“I really can’t do the decorating for the house.”

Nick didn’t blink at Jess’s statement. He was only surprised it had taken her twenty-four hours to make it. He leaned back in his office chair and motioned to the one on the other side of the desk.

“Sit down, Jess.” When she did, he added, “Of course, you will do the decorating.”

“But I can’t.” She hopped out of the chair and began pacing the tiny trailer. “I’m really sorry about that other decorator. It was all my fault—”

“No, it wasn’t,” he said. “Decorating may not be my forte, but I know I didn’t like what that woman had in mind for the house.”

“Nick,” she said impatiently, “why did you have her come in originally?”

“Because her firm was recommended to me,” he said, frowning in puzzlement at her odd question.

“And if they were recommended, then it’s because they’re good! But I made you question her judgment—”

“You stopped me from doing something stupid—”

“I made you
do
something stupid! You had a decorator from a recommended firm come in and tell you how to show off the houses, and by clowning around, I got you to dismiss her. Now I’ve put you in a bind with getting the model furnished before you open it. What the hell do I know about decorating, anyway?”

“It’s a sure bet I know a lot less than you,” he said, grinning in amusement. “Being highly recommended doesn’t mean she was right for the house.”

“Don’t you see? I
ruined
it for you! It was deliberately unconscious.” She frowned. “Unconsciously deliberate. Whatever.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I was doing it again, Nick. I was trying to mess things up for you to get you to …”

“Leave you alone?” he finished for her.

She nodded.

“You’re going to have to do better than that,” he said, chuckling.

“This is all a joke to you, isn’t it?” she asked, clenching her hands together.

“No, Jess,” he said shortly. “It’s very serious to me. It’s so serious that I’m letting you control this relationship until you’re convinced that there’s nothing you can do to drive me away.”

She sat silent for a long time, staring at the wall behind him. With her concentration elsewhere, he took advantage of the rare opportunity to admire the way her breasts rose and fell with each breath she took. He remembered how she had writhed beneath him in complete pleasure when they’d made love. For his own sanity, he tried not to indulge himself this way too often.

When she looked at him again, he immediately forced his features into a benign expression.

“What if I didn’t have a … problem with men, and said to you that I felt we could only be friends?” she asked, her gaze steady on his. “Would you accept it, then, as one of those things that just wouldn’t work out?”

“Would you be telling me that if you didn’t have a problem?” he asked in return.

She didn’t answer.

“You wouldn’t.” He stood up. The only thing keeping him from walking around the desk and taking her in his arms was his promise. “You know as well as I do that if that were the case, we’d be in bed right now.”

She folded her arms across her breasts, pushing the enticing curves upward. His breath suddenly whistled out of his lungs at the shine of defiance in her eyes and the stubborn set of her jaw. She had a core of steel inside her that touched his own.

“I’m a challenge to you, aren’t I?” she asked.

“I just know what I want, Jess.” He smiled. “And I’m willing to wait for it.”

“You are stubborn.”

“I know. And you like it.”

He walked over to her. Putting his arm around her waist, he ushered her to the trailer door.

“You did me a big favor yesterday with the decorator,” he said, “even if you won’t admit it. And you’ll be doing me an even bigger favor if you supervise the decorating. Now get out of here, or else I won’t be responsible for my actions.” He tapped her hat brim. “Even that thing is beginning to look sexy.”

“Wonderful,” she said.

He laughed. “I wonder if anyone knows that hat has potential as an aphrodisiac.”

“I think the question is how low Mikaris will go.”

“As low as you like,” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh, Lord,” she murmured, flushing bright red.

“Trace your ancestors back to the
Mayflower
and you’re left with a Puritan backlash and a pretty blush,” he said. “Now we hot-blooded Greeks don’t blush at anything.”

“Right. I’m going back to work before I get a lecture on hedonism.”

“You’d better go back to work before you get a demonstration.”

“Good-bye, Nick.”

He was laughing as she strode out the door.

When he finally returned to his paperwork, he just stared at it, in no mood to tackle it again. Instead, his mind wandered back to the conversation with Jess. She had asked if she was a challenge to him. Was she?

From the beginning, his attraction to her had been unbelievably strong. He had wanted her then, and if the want had been temporary, he would have been satisfied once they’d made love. He had been very satisfied, but the wanting hadn’t faded. In fact, it had grown. He was suppressing it now, keeping it from his thoughts, because he had a promise to keep. For her. But the want wasn’t wrapped up in a challenge, at least not a challenge to conquer a woman’s sexual resistance. It was a much more tender challenge, he thought, smiling.

It was the challenge of a lifetime.

“You look terrible, Jess.”

“So they tell me,” she said, glaring at Sandy.

Jess hadn’t bothered to stop by her home and change, but had come straight from the site to see her best friend. She’d never given a thought to her work clothes before, but everyone seemed to be picking on them lately.

Telling herself she could wonder about that later, she said, “I need your help, Sandy. I have to decorate the model.”

“You!” Sandy stared at her in shock. “But I thought Nick was going to hire a decorator.”

“He did.” Jess grimaced as she stepped inside the house. “Never mind how I wound up being responsible. The point is, I am.”

“And you want me to help,” Sandy said. Her eyes were gleaming in anticipation.

Jess grinned. “I didn’t think I’d have to talk you into it.”

“Of course, I’ve seen the original plans for the house. You could really make it a showplace.”

“Nick and I want it to be a home,” she said swiftly, anxious to head off any notions of “forefront” decorating. Then she realized exactly how it sounded. She rushed on. “I mean, it has to look lived-in.”

“You and Nick want it to be a home?” Sandy asked, smiling archly. “Well, well, well. When’s the wedding?”

“I knew it,” Jess muttered in disgust. “Sandy, the house has to give the illusion of relaxed and rural living. It needs a country atmosphere. And if you tease me about this or anything else to do with Nick, I swear I will move you right to the top of the list for the next practical joke.”