The Danforths: Reid, Kimberly and Jake

Two

Reid let the words hang between them while the woman digested her mistake. Her eyes had widened behind her glasses, and her cheeks bloomed a pretty shade of pink. She hadn’t even released the breath she’d inhaled when she’d realized who he was.

He supposed he could make the situation easier by simply shrugging it off and assuring her there was no harm done. A simple misunderstanding. No big deal at all. It would certainly be the gentlemanly thing to do.

But, hell, it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.

He decided he would enjoy watching her squirm for a minute or two. Something told him that Tina Alexander was used to being composed and in control, and he rather liked the idea of ruffling this woman’s feathers.

Especially after the crack about him being old. Dammit, thirty-two was not old!

But when she continued to stare at him with alarm in her eyes, he began to feel a little guilty. He just wanted to rattle her a bit, not humiliate her.

He opened his mouth with the intention of easing her embarrassment, but when the breath she’d been holding came rushing out like an icy snowstorm, he realized it wasn’t embarrassment on her cheeks but annoyance.

‘‘You knew perfectly well I was interviewing you for a job,’’ she said tightly. ‘‘Why didn’t you stop me?’’

Well, well, he thought, raising a brow. The kitten definitely had her back up now.

‘‘I suppose it was like watching a train wreck,’’ he said with a half grin. ‘‘I just couldn’t seem to tear myself away.’’

It was also refreshing not to be recognized, he realized. He’d always hated that people treated him differently when they knew he was a Danforth, either turned extremely helpful or absurdly friendly.

Though at this moment friendly would hardly be a word to describe Tina Alexander, Reid thought. The mouth he’d thought so soft only a moment ago now pressed into a thin line.

He wondered for one insane moment what those lips would feel like under his own.

‘‘I’m glad I’ve given you a few minutes of entertainment.’’ She crumpled the application under her fingers into a ball and tossed it into a trash can beside the desk. ‘‘Since you’re obviously not here looking for a job, is there something else I can do for you?’’

Well now, that was a leading question, Reid thought, but certainly not one he could honestly answer without getting thrown out of the office. ‘‘I’m here about the space next door.’’

She glanced up sharply. ‘‘What about it?’’

‘‘My real estate broker spoke to a man named Ivan Alexander about leasing it.’’

‘‘Ivan is my father.’’ Tina’s eyes narrowed cautiously. ‘‘But there must be some mistake. That space isn’t for lease.’’

‘‘That’s odd, since I was told to stop by today so I can look at the inside and pick up a key.’’

‘‘But—’’ Her voice faltered, broke. ‘‘That can’t be.’’

‘‘I’ve already put a deposit down, Miss Alexander.’’

‘‘A deposit?’’ she repeated, her cool tone now one of disbelief.

‘‘My broker gave your father a check yesterday.’’ Reid couldn’t help but wonder why it should matter to Tina one way or the other who rented the space. ‘‘Is there a problem?’’

Is there a problem? Tina stared at the man sitting across from her, felt a bubble of hysteria lodge in her throat. This can’t be, she told herself. Surely her parents would have told her if they’d rented the space.

Her space.

But it was true. She knew it in her heart. Reid Danforth would not be sitting here if it weren’t.

Slowly she slipped her reading glasses off, then spread her hands on the desk and rose. ‘‘Will you excuse me a minute?’’

Without waiting for him to answer, Tina walked stiffly from the room, then headed directly for the double doors of the kitchen entrance. Her father was bent over a work table, frosting the bottom layer of what was going to be a three-tier, whipped cream, strawberry shortcake.

Hands on her hips, she faced him. ‘‘How could you do this?’’

‘‘Very easy,’’ he said without glancing up. ‘‘Slice the strawberries very thin and just the right amount of gelatine in the whip cream. Perfect every time.’’

‘‘That’s not what I mean and you know it.’’ She snatched up the bowl of whipped cream sitting on the counter and held it away from him. ‘‘When the antique store moved out next door, you promised to rent the space to me.’’

‘‘I make no promise.’’ Frowning, he straightened and faced her, then folded his beefy arms over his wide chest. ‘‘I told you I think about it.’’

‘‘It’s a perfect spot for a sandwich and coffeehouse.’’ She struggled to control her voice and her temper. ‘‘I poured my heart and soul into that project. Design plans for the interior, a prospectus, potential menus. You told me you were impressed.’’

He nodded. ‘‘I was.’’

‘‘Then why?’’ Her voice trembled as she hugged the cold metal bowl close. ‘‘Why would you do this to me?’’

‘‘You are too young to open your own business, Katina.’’ His voice softened a bit. ‘‘When you are older, we will talk.’’

‘‘Stop treating me like a child. I’m twenty-four,’’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘‘Me, Rachel, Sophia. We are older. Why can’t you see that?’’

‘‘I am your apa,’’ Ivan said firmly. ‘‘It is my duty to take care of my family. We have only each other.’’

‘‘Dad.’’ She struggled against tears. ‘‘Apa. I’ve worked in this bakery with you since I was ten. You know I can do it.’’

‘‘It is too much money.’’

‘‘Aunt Yana is going to help—’’

‘‘This is not Yana’s decision.’’ Ivan’s voice rose. ‘‘My sister has the blood of the gypsies, running from city to city, country to country. What does she know about business and responsibility?’’

‘‘She’s dedicated to her work,’’ Tina defended her aunt. ‘‘Just because she travels doesn’t mean that—’’

‘‘Enough!’’ He lifted a hand to silence her. ‘‘It is done. I have rented the space for one year. We will talk again then.’’

‘‘But—’’

‘‘Be a good girl, Katina.’’ Ivan patted Tina on her head. ‘‘Now you will take Mr. Danforth next door and show him what he has paid for.’’

‘‘What?’’ Her mouth dropped open. ‘‘You expect me—’’

‘‘You will do as I say.’’ He snatched the bowl of whipped cream from her arms. ‘‘And you will be nice to this man. Do you understand?’’

Tina opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. She knew it was useless to argue at this point.

The deal with the Danforths had obviously been made. It was too late to change that, and if she pushed her father too far, he would never rent her the space.

And now she was supposed to be nice?

Setting her teeth, she marched back to the office. Outside the door she paused, then drew in a long, slow, calming breath. She’d already made a big enough fool of herself in front of Reid Danforth. She refused to add pathetic to his opinion of her, as well.

Certain her face might crack under the strain, she forced a smile and opened the door.

‘‘Well,’’ she said, breezing into the room and plucking a key from a hook beside the door. ‘‘It appears there was a wrinkle in our line of communication here, Mr. Danforth. When do you plan on moving in?’’

‘‘Tomorrow.’’

In spite of her determination to be calm, Tina felt her jaw go slack. ‘‘Tomorrow?’’

‘‘We’re announcing my father’s candidacy in a few days,’’ he explained. ‘‘It’s taken quite a while to find a space that meets our requirements, so I have to move quickly.’’

‘‘I see.’’ Regaining her composure, she nodded. ‘‘Well, shall we go have a look, then?’’

The woman had certainly come back with a different attitude, Reid thought as he followed Tina into the hallway. She’d gone from Miss Tempest to Miss Hospitality in the space of about five minutes.

Not that he was buying her facade of serenity. Reid could see just a trace of tension in her eyes, hear the edge of stress in her silky-smooth voice. Under the surface of all that so-called calm, a storm was brewing.

No doubt about it, she intrigued him. Made him wonder what all that pent-up energy would be like in bed.

They stepped out the back door of the bakery into a lovely garden framed by high walls of aged brick and stucco. Lush ferns and plants surrounded stone benches, statues of smiling cherubs and a small rock pond.

‘‘There’s a private alley between the buildings,’’ she said as they walked across the patio, her tone clipped and matter-of-fact.

She opened an iron gate and they stepped into the alley. Reid noted the wrought-iron stairs leading to the second and third levels above the space he’d rented. ‘‘Are the upper levels rented out?’’ he asked.

‘‘My aunt’s apartment is on the second floor and she has a photography studio on the third.’’ They moved past the alley, stepped through a second gate into another garden. ‘‘She’s traveling most of the time on shoots, if you’re worried about her disturbing you.’’

As Reid followed Tina through the second garden to the back entrance of the building, he couldn’t help but notice the sway of her slender hips and the fact that she had nice legs. Something told him that it wouldn’t be Tina’s aunt who would be disturbing him, he thought.

He forced his attention back to Tina, realized he’d missed part of what she’d been saying, something about the buildings being built in the early 1800s, then renovated in the 1970s.

Over the next year, there’d be numerous receptions for donors and volunteers, Reid knew. For the smaller, more private gatherings, the brick patio, with its stone benches and two-tiered fountain, would be perfect. ‘‘Will I have use of the garden area?’’

‘‘Of course.’’

She moved to the bevelled-glass back door of the building and inserted the key into the lock. He watched her visibly square her shoulders and draw in a breath as she turned the knob.

The smell of fresh paint filled the cool and damp air inside the wide hallway they stepped into; Reid realized that the layout was very similar to the bakery’s. The afternoon sun spilled in through the back door and glowed golden off the recently refinished hardwood floors. ‘‘The back half is split into two offices, a bath and a kitchen.’’ Tina moved stiffly down the hallway. ‘‘The front half is one large room.’’

As they stepped into the front area of the building, Reid saw the longing in Tina’s eyes as she glanced around the room. A sense of possessiveness, he thought. It suddenly dawned on him why she was upset.

‘‘You wanted this space, didn’t you?’’ he asked quietly. ‘‘For yourself.’’

She stilled at his words, then lifted her chin. ‘‘What I wanted is unimportant at this point.’’ She held the key out to him. ‘‘The space is yours for one year. Congratulations.’’

‘‘I’m sorry.’’ He closed his hand around hers as he took the key. Her skin was soft and warm against his. ‘‘I didn’t know.’’

‘‘Would it have mattered to you if you had?’’

‘‘I wouldn’t have changed my mind, if that’s what you mean.’’ They both knew he’d be lying if he said anything different. ‘‘What were you going to do with it?’’

‘‘Nothing that won’t keep.’’ Determination shone in her eyes as she glanced around the room. ‘‘For another year, anyway. Good luck to you and your father, Mr. Danforth.’’

When she tried to pull her hand from his, he held tight. Arching one brow, she leveled a questioning gaze at him.

‘‘We are going to be neighbors, Tina,’’ he said. ‘‘How ’bout you call me Reid?’’

She cocked her head and studied him, and though he wouldn’t exactly call it a smile, her mouth wasn’t quite so firm, her eyes so cool.

‘‘Good luck, Reid,’’ she said with a nod, then added, ‘‘I’ll be counting the days.’’

‘‘So will I, Tina.’’ He grinned at her, then released her hand. ‘‘So will I.’’

From the second-story window of her aunt’s apartment, Tina watched the moving van—Miller’s Home and Office Rental—pull out of the busy, early-evening traffic and slide into a parking space on the street directly below. A burly, bald-headed man carrying a clipboard and wearing lead-gray overalls stepped out of the van’s cab, then disappeared into the first floor.

‘‘Grass certainly doesn’t grow under Reid Danforth’s feet, does it, Delilah?’’ Tina said to the long-haired tabby currently winding its sleek, lithe body around her bare legs. ‘‘It’s hardly been five hours since I handed him a key, and here he is, bringing in furniture.’’

Damn him.

Logically, Tina knew she shouldn’t blame Reid. It was, after all, her parents’ decision. But the fact was, she wasn’t feeling especially reasonable—or forgiving—at the moment. Besides, it was much easier to be angry with a stranger than her mother and father.

Tina had made one last-ditch appeal to her mother to reconsider leasing out the space to the Danforths, but her effort had proven futile. Convinced that Abraham Danforth’s campaign headquarters would be a hotbed of handsome, wealthy bachelors, Mariska was practically doing handstands.

And speaking of handsome, wealthy bachelors, Tina’s pulse jumped when Reid stepped out onto the sidewalk with the burly man.

He’d stripped off the denim jacket he’d been wearing earlier, and looking at his wide shoulders and thick-muscled arms under the T-shirt he wore, she might have thought him one of the movers. When he dropped one large hand on a lean, denim-clad hip and gestured toward the doorway, her eyes traveled downward over his tall, well-sculpted body, then back up again.

She told herself the flutter in her stomach was hunger, not lust.

‘‘Most mothers would warn their daughters about a man like Reid Danforth,’’ Tina huffed, then knelt down and picked Delilah up in her arms. ‘‘My mother is already planning a wedding.’’

Bored, Delilah twitched her whiskers.

Though she knew she shouldn’t be peeping out the blinds, Tina watched Reid walk to the back of the van with the movers. In spite of herself, she couldn’t help but admire the confidence that radiated from the man. His stance, his walk, the tilt of his head. Even now, in her mind, she could hear the steady, deep tone of his voice, could feel the firm grasp of his hand over hers.

And that smile, she thought. That smile should be banned from public display.

‘‘All the more reason to stay away from the man,’’ she said emphatically to Delilah. ‘‘He knows perfectly well the effect he has on women. I, for one, have no intention of encouraging his already inflated ego.’’

Still, Tina watched Reid glance at his wristwatch, she could look, couldn’t she? As long as he didn’t know she was looking, what was the harm?

That’s when he glanced up.

With a gasp she jumped back, praying he hadn’t been able to see her through the half-open blinds.

Darn it, darn it.

‘‘That’s what I get for being nosy,’’ she told Delilah. ‘‘And you know what they say about curiosity.’’

As if annoyed by the comment, Delilah jumped from Tina’s arms and strode away with a flick of her pretty tail.

‘‘It’s just an expression,’’ Tina called after the cat. ‘‘No need to be waspish about it.’’

Resisting the urge to creep back to the window again, Tina headed for the bathroom, stripped off her work clothes and stepped into the shower. It felt good to let the hot water pound on her shoulders and neck. Slowly, her tension from the day eased.

A year, she told herself. Surely she could manage twelve short months. Fifty-two weeks. She smiled, remembering the look on Reid’s face when she’d told him she’d be counting the days. When he’d looked her in the eye and told her he’d be counting them, too, she’d almost felt as if it were a challenge.

God help her, she couldn’t resist a challenge.

Yes, you will resist, her mind yelled at her. Determined that she’d spent enough brain space on the man, Tina stuck her head under the spray of water. The time would pass quickly enough. Before she knew it, the man would be out, and she would be in.

The thought lightened her mood immensely.

After she toweled off and passed a blow dryer over her hair, she slipped into a pair of jeans, a pink cotton T-shirt and, because she was going out this evening, a bra. Dinner and a movie with Rachel would take her mind off Reid, Tina told herself.

She found a black leather ankle boot under the end table beside the sofa and was searching for its mate when she heard the sound of muffled voices drifting up from a floor vent. She could almost make out what the men were saying. Was that Reid’s voice, too? she wondered, then got down on her hands and knees and listened. They were saying something about turning the desk at an angle.