Sweet Obsession: Windy City Kink, Book 1 (3 page)

“Business.”

“Yes.”

She closed her eyes. Maybe she was making too big a deal of this. It had been a long time. She was over all that. And she did need business, that was for sure.
Get a grip, Sasha. Act cool.

“Fine.” She turned to face him, and he was close enough that she had to tip her head back to look at his face, even in her heels. “I heard you were back in Chicago.”

He nodded, a smile touching his mouth. “I am.”

Her heart continued to do crazy things in her chest, somersaulting and missing beats in a way that made breathing difficult.

“And I heard you are one of the best landscape designers in the city,” he said.

She shook her head. “Uh, no. Hardly.”

“That’s what I heard.” He shoved his hands into his front pockets and his shoulders lifted a little, emphasizing their strength. “And I believe it.”

She continued to gaze at him, her eyes moving over him, taking in every detail—the same square jaw but stronger, harder, the same eyes but now inscrutable. Talk about a poker face. No way would she sit down at a table with him. As a teenager he’d been confident and charming, but now he exuded power and sexuality.

He was exactly the kind of guy she stayed far away from—arrogant, aggressive, dominant.

“Why would you believe it?” she whispered. “You don’t even know me anymore.”

His mouth curved into a smile. “I know you well enough to believe that whatever you do in life, you’d do it well.”

His words of praise confused her. She felt as if someone had given her head a hard shake and scrambled her brain. Once more, her gaze wandered over his face. She could hardly believe she was standing there in the same room with him after all this time. Her chest tightened and she swallowed hard. “Why, Jack? What’s going on?”

“It’s perfectly simple, Sasha. I want you to design a rooftop garden for my new condo.” He swept out a hand.

“A rooftop garden.” Just saying the words gave her a tiny thrill. In her relatively short career as a landscape designer, she’d done a number of rooftop gardens. They were becoming very popular in Chicago and presented unique challenges and amazing creative opportunities. She’d gotten a bit of a reputation for her rooftop gardens, and she’d tried to capitalize on that and promote herself as being a specialist in that small category of jobs. She loved designing them.

“Yes. Would you like to see?”

She didn’t move. Her feet felt stuck to the floor and her legs trembled a little. She wanted to press a hand to her banging heart, but that would be a definite tell. If she was playing poker. But in a way, this felt like a game, and the stakes felt high even though she had no idea what was going on.

A job? Really?

“Sasha?”

She met his eyes and she shouldn’t have, because his gaze drew her in, snaring her, rendering her helpless. Her body went soft and warm, her breathing shallow. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’d like to see it.”

She managed to take a step forward, and then another. Sunlight filled the entire room through all the windows, illuminating the shiny wood floor, and he led her to a set of French doors on the left. He opened one and then stepped back so she could precede him out onto the roof.

Wisps of clouds feathered the blue sky above Lake Michigan on one side of the patio, and on the other, downtown skyscrapers created a jagged, gleaming vista that was beautiful in its own way. This city was her home and had been pretty much her entire life, and she loved it.

She turned her attention from the stunning view to the roof itself. The space was large and completely open. The only attempt at landscaping was a shriveled brown palm tree in a clay pot. The bare cement space felt cold and barren. Literally cold, with the wind whipping over them from Lake Michigan.

“The first thing to do would be to put up some barriers from the wind,” she said, without looking at him.

“But you can’t obscure the view.”

She glanced at him, unwilling to look him in the eyes again. “No. Not all of it. Clearly you want to take advantage of that. I guess it’s nice at night too, with the skyline lit up.”

“You’ll come back and see it at night.”

It wasn’t a request. And it made her shiver. “No.” Their eyes met. “I can’t work for you, Jack.”

“Why not?” He frowned.

“You know why not!”

Something flickered on his face. For a moment he said nothing. Then he said, “That was a long time ago, Sasha.”

True. And just what she’d been telling herself. By refusing to work with him, she’d let on that it was still a big deal to her, even though it had been twelve years ago. She swallowed a sigh. “I suppose I could give you a quote,” she said slowly.

“No.”

Her forehead tightened. “No?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t need a quote. I just want to hire
you
.”

She turned her head a bit, keeping her eyes fastened on his face. “Excuse me?”

“I just want you.”

And
there
was that flip in the pit of her stomach. That warm, slow roll of lust that she’d been waiting for, hoping for, with every man she dated. It made her eyes widen and her skin tingle everywhere. And it made her angry. She dropped her gaze.

“That’s not a good way to do business,” she said, her voice clipped. “I’m sure you didn’t get where you are today by being so foolish.”

“Foolish.”

She thought he might be angry, but when she looked back at him, he was smiling and relaxed.

“I’m not a fool, Sasha,” he said. “Not anymore.”

Their gazes met again in a meaningful exchange and she knew they were both thinking about the past. And once again, her heart hurt. He wasn’t the one who’d been a fool. That had been her.

Her head felt too heavy for her neck, and she wanted to sit down. But there was nowhere to sit out here. “Jack,” she said. “What’s going on?”

He moved closer. She wore a suit, but he wore short sleeves, his tanned, muscled arms dusted with dark hair, veins tracing their way down the insides of his forearms. He had to be cold out here, but he didn’t look it. He looked hot. She swallowed again.

“Let’s go inside,” he said. “It’s chilly out here. We can talk more in there.”

She again preceded him through the door. The warmth of the condo wrapped around her, along with a scent, something spicy and masculine. He closed the door behind him and led the way to the couch and chairs in the corner, surrounded by glass and light. He gestured and she took a seat in one of the tub chairs and crossed her legs.

Jack sat on the curved white couch, and holy hell, he looked dark and dangerous like that. He’d had a heavy beard even as a teenager, and now wore a dark shadow of whiskers on his strong jaw. With his tanned skin, dark hair and eyes and black shirt, he gave off an almost diabolic air. Her pulse fluttered and she fought to stay calm and collected.

“What’s going on?” Jack repeated her question. “I just bought this condo a few months ago when I moved back to Chicago. I want a garden out on the roof. Your name came up when I was checking out landscape designers. I looked at your website and like the work you’ve done. I want to hire you. That’s what’s going on.”

Her body continued to vibrate with nerves. She stared at him. So this was just business. Really?

“So where do we start?” he asked, leaning back and crossing one ankle over the other knee.

Start. Yes. Business. Her thoughts tumbled over each other and heat climbed up her neck and face. How were they supposed to talk about business when he’d just reappeared in her life after twelve years, after what had happened between them? Were they supposed to ignore that, pretend it never happened? Act like strangers?

They
were
strangers. Really. It had been so long they couldn’t know each other. They were no longer teenagers. She went with that thought and took a steadying breath.

“Well,” she began. “We start with me getting a sense of what you want.” That didn’t sound right. She floundered a little, searching for more words. “Um. Your budget, of course.”

He waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter what it costs.”

She gaped at him. “You can’t do that.”

He smiled. “Sure I can. Money is no object.”

She knew he’d done well. Who didn’t? He wasn’t exactly a household name, but he’d created quite a stir in the business world when he’d moved his company to Chicago from San Jose about six months ago. A recent magazine article had dubbed him “Tech Boy Wonder”.

“Um. Okay. Well then, I start with getting ideas of what you want. I do a feasibility study to make sure that structurally your patio can support whatever design elements you want. We talk about a time schedule. You approve that and then I work on concept development and preliminary designs and an estimate, which again you review and approve. We make changes if necessary. And then we start construction.”

“Okay.”

Once again she struggled. This was the weirdest business meeting she’d ever had. “So. Um. What do you want to use that space for?”

He tipped his head. “I’m not sure. I haven’t lived here that long. Possibly entertaining, although I also want it to be a place I can relax. I love the views from up here.”

“Do you have any pictures of spaces you like? Not even necessarily rooftop gardens, or even landscaping pictures, but interior spaces you like.” She looked around. “The style inside is very clean and modern. Should I assume you want that outside too?”

He nodded. “Yeah. But comfortable. I want to kick back out there. Hey.” He jumped to his feet with the energy she remembered so well. “Let me show you the rest of the place. Maybe that will help.”

She rose to her own feet more slowly. “Okay.”

He spread his arms wide to indicate the big L-shaped space that was living room, dining room and kitchen, which she hadn’t really had a good look at. “This is the main living area. I like all the windows, of course. Come see the kitchen.”

It was huge. Around the corner from the dining room in the L-shape, a long counter separated the kitchen from another wall of windows. Gleaming granite stretched the length of the counters on both sides of what was essentially a galley kitchen, the inside wall lined with maple cupboards and stainless steel appliances.

“You live here alone?” she asked, no pampered trophy wife in sight.

“Yeah.” He paused, then said, “Here’s my office.” He led the way past the kitchen and through an arched doorway to another large room furnished simply with dark wood office furniture, more windows looking out onto the city view. She surveyed it for a moment before he turned and led her back to the kitchen. “Through this door is the hall. You can access it from here, or from the foyer.” Where he’d appeared when she’d entered his condo.

“There are four bedrooms,” he continued, leading her down the hall. “One of them is a guest room. This is the master suite.”

He stepped into his bedroom.

She hesitated. Her heart jumped into her throat at the idea of going into Jack’s bedroom with him.

Chapter Three

Jack watched Sasha hovering in the door of his bedroom.

Christ, she was gorgeous. His heart had been hammering against his ribs from the moment Tim had called up from the lobby to tell him Sasha was on her way. When he’d seen her standing there in his foyer, looking hesitant and beautiful and holy fuck,
Sasha
, he’d lost his breath. She was there. Right in front of him. Live, in the flesh, after all these years.

Her smooth fall of honey-blonde hair still fell below her shoulders. Her amazing light blue eyes flickered constantly, looking everywhere but at him. Her fingers kept toying with the strap of the big leather purse hanging over her shoulder, and he was sure she wasn’t even aware of that. She’d always been so easy to read, and much as she tried to act cool, he could see her discomfort.

She took a step into his bedroom and, once again, he had a surreal moment. Sasha was in his bedroom. Every cell in his body shouted for him to touch her. He clenched his hands into fists and struggled for calm.

It seemed as if she kind of hated him.

He’d thought about every possibility and yeah, this had been one of them. So fine, this would just be about business. For now.

She studied the room with quick glances left and right and then nodded. He liked his bedroom, the simple wood headboard of the bed, the dark green duvet and upholstery on a small loveseat and chair in the corner, the clean lines of the fireplace. The matte sage green walls created an intimate feel. He gave a mental shrug at the pair of athletic socks crumpled on the floor in front of a wicker hamper and the sweatpants lying over the arm of the chair. Another door led from the bedroom to the patio though, and he wanted her to see that.

“Come over here,” he said, walking across the hardwood floor. He opened the door to show her the access to the patio.

He sensed the tension vibrating through her as she passed him to walk out onto the patio again. “This is nice,” she murmured. “There’s enough room out here for two separate spaces.”

“Yeah, I guess there is.” He could see her mind working, the creative process. She’d always been creative and had always loved being outside.