- -
- 100%
- +
“I’m probably never going to see you again. What’s the harm?”
“What do you mean you’re not going to see me again? How are you going to decorate my house?”
“What?” She shook her head, thinking she must be hearing things.
“I want you to decorate my house. I told you I needed it done before my sister’s wedding next year.”
“But—but...are you sure? I’ve never done anything of this size. And you haven’t seen my portfolio. And there is the fact that I’ve acted like a complete crazy person the whole time we’ve been acquainted.”
“But you did Rosecove?”
“Yes.”
“Then, you have the job. I wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of bringing you in unless I was going to hire you.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say. This was the job of her dreams. This was the job that would keep her business open and her parents off her back. This was the job that could take her career to the next level, and she was stupidly talking herself out of it.
“You do want the job, don’t you?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Yeah? You don’t sound too sure. If you don’t think you can handle it, I can find someone else.”
“Of course I want this job, Mr. Bradley. I won’t disappoint you.”
“Good. It’s yours.”
Her heart jumped into her throat. She couldn’t believe it. She was on a beautiful island and had just been offered the job that could make her career. It seemed too good to be true. “Could you excuse me for a moment? I just have to make a phone call.”
She walked away from him, back up the path toward the house as she pulled out her cell phone.
Willa picked up on the first ring. “You’re alive?”
“Yes, and I’m walking away from the beach toward the biggest house on the planet. He offered me the job, Wils!”
“Why?” She didn’t sound at all impressed.
“What do you mean, why?”
“You’ve done a couple of beachside inns and you specialize in old-lady condos. Why does he want you? Are you sure he’s not some kind of serial killer who lures interior designers to his secluded estate and then collects their body parts in jars in his basement? That’s a great idea for a book. I’ll call it Designed for Murder.”
“Could you stop being a mystery writer for one moment and be my supportive best friend?” Virginia asked, even though she knew Willa was right. There were a hundred other designers more qualified than she.
“Yeah. I guess I could do that. This is an amazing opportunity that could skyrocket your career. And I think that deserves a happy dance.” Virginia heard Willa switch her phone to speaker. “Come on, girl. I’d better not be dancing alone here. Shake what your mama gave you.”
Virginia laughed, just imagining Willa in front of her desk in her little New York apartment dancing to celebrate her success. They had happy danced when Willa had gotten her first book deal. “I got the job,” she sang as she shook her hips. “I got the job.” Now they were dancing for her.
* * *
Carlos came up behind Virginia only to catch her dancing as she held the phone to her ear. A foreign sound escaped his mouth and he realized that he was laughing. She had done that to him, made him see the humor in something when for so long he hadn’t been able to find anything to bring a smile to his face. But she’d done it. She was the only one who’d managed it, even though others had tried. She was just herself. Her blunt, quirky self. Maybe he was crazy to offer her the job on the spot. She could be a maniac. But he wanted her, and he always got what he wanted.
Her back was to him so she couldn’t see him, and he was glad because he got to look at her shaking her rump as long as he wanted. He knew her dance wasn’t meant to be seductive, but he felt himself harden. It may have been because she was woman and he was a man who had gone a long time without one. But it had to be more than that. She’d called him out on dating a twenty-one-year-old model and she was right. Looking at her now, that girl couldn’t compare to her. No swimsuit model could.
He wondered what was going on under that long dress. Were her legs as shapely as her hips? Was the skin on her chest as smooth as the skin on her shoulders looked? Did her behind look as luscious and round as it appeared through all that fabric?
She turned around suddenly, her mouth open slightly. She had pretty lips. He had noticed that about her, too.
“Gotta go, Wils. He caught me.”
He could hear the sound of feminine laughter before they disconnected.
“I promise I’ll be professional while I’m on this job. I have references if you want to check. I’m always on time. I mind my manners and I’m efficient.”
“I don’t care if you like to dance on the job as long as you get it done. That means not having me wait fourteen months for some lamps. No renovations that are going to take longer than a year.”
“I understand. I know some great contractors.”
“Good, and you stay out of my bedroom. I don’t want it touched and I don’t want to be bothered during the day. If you’ve got a problem, handle it yourself.”
“Okay.” She nodded.
“One more thing. You’ve got to live here.” He’d thought about putting her up in town, but that was a twenty-minute drive every day. It just made sense to keep her closer.
“Live here? I’ve never lived with a client before.”
“There’s a first time for everything. Do you agree to that stipulation?”
She hesitated for a moment. “Yes. I agree.”
“Good. You’ll take the suite on the first floor. I’ll call the car back for you. You start on Monday.”
Chapter 3
Virginia arrived at Carlos’s door that Monday with her entire life in two large suitcases. She was going to be living there for the next few months, with a man she only knew bits and pieces about from the things she heard on TV or read on the internet. Part of her was nervous about it. This job was so huge. It could change the course of her career or be a huge, epic failure.
Virginia was used to epic failures. All her past relationships were. Her former life as a painter was, too, according to her mother. She’d tried to put that behind her, but as she was driven down the long single-lane road that led to Carlos’s house she couldn’t help but be moved by the natural raw beauty of the island. It made her wonder what this island would look like depicted in oils.
She didn’t normally do landscapes. She preferred people and capturing emotion on canvas, but her fingers itched to pick up a paintbrush and capture the emotion of the land, the rich green from the palm trees, the bursts of bright pink from the flowers. The ocean at sunrise. Or the waves that crashed against the shore at sunset. There was so much to see, she thought she might never tire of looking at it all. But she wasn’t there to paint. She had a job to do.
The front door opened and Carlos stood there. He wore another T-shirt and shorts. His feet were in sneakers. Everything about him screamed jock. And everything, from the way he held his powerful body to the way he looked at her, was appealing. Which was ironic, because he was exactly the type of guy she would have stayed away from in high school and college. Now he was making her hormones go crazy. Maybe it had been too long since her last relationship. Maybe she was in serious need of some sexual release.
It couldn’t happen with him, though. He was a client. She might drive some of her past clients to the airport and clean up after their dogs, but sleeping with them was where she drew the line. Of course, none of her other clients looked like exotic hard-bodied gods. But that didn’t matter, because even if she’d been less than professional getting the job, she would be on her best behavior during it.
“Were you going to ring the bell or just stand there all day?”
“Sorry. I was thinking. How did you know I was here?”
“Cameras.” He took the largest suitcase away from her as he studied her.
She was normally a fairly confident person, but the way he looked at her made her feel a little like a self-conscious thirteen-year-old again. But she was dressed smartly today. No flowy hippie dress. No wild untamed curls. She wore gray slacks and a turquoise blouse with a delicate bow at the collar. Her skin was completely covered and she would have worn a blazer if the Florida humidity hadn’t been a touch too much.
“Why are you so dressed up today?” He stepped aside, letting her into the house.
“Despite the way I acted the first time we met, I assure you I am a professional. And from here on out I plan to treat you with the respect you deserve, the respect I would give to any other client.”
He kicked the door closed, not looking at all impressed by her statement. “If you would have shown up her the other day wearing this shirt, I wouldn’t have hired you.” He walked away from her, deeper into the house.
“What? Why?” She followed, looking down at her shirt. It wasn’t her personal style but there was nothing offensive about it.
“It’s stupid.”
“My mother bought me this shirt and she’s the smartest person I know. I’m going to tell her you said that.”
He looked back at her. The corner of his mouth had curved into a smile and she just about fainted right there on the spot. He was a beautiful man, there was no denying that, but when he smiled at her the way he did, with just a tiny bit of mischief in his eyes, he was damn sexy.
“I’m not afraid of your mother. I think I can handle her.”
“Do you? I’m afraid of her. Think you can give me a few tips?”
His smile widened and, if possible, grew sexier. It caused heat to spread through her belly, and she knew she was in trouble. Never in her life had a simple smile aroused her. But Carlos Bradley seemed to make impossible things happen to her. “My mother can be scary, too. I’ve got nothing for you.”
Leaving her suitcase near the door, he took her through the great room again, and this time she noted the two beautiful winding staircases that led to the second floor and a massive fireplace with an intricately carved mantel in the center of the back wall. She’d been so overwhelmed the first time she was there she hadn’t been able to take it all in, but now she could see the details, the little things that made the place special.
He took her down the long hallway that they had passed on the way to the family room the other day. There were marble floors in different shades of creams and tans, and a little sitting area by the elegantly curved window in the middle of it all that showed distant views of the ocean. “It’s so private back here,” she said, more to herself than to him. “You would barely know if someone else was home.”
“My father thought it was perfect. There are four of us. He said there was enough space so that none of us would fight, and if we did he would send us to our rooms.”
There was a sadness in his voice as he said it, and she knew he had suffered a loss. “Did you fight a lot when you were kids?”
“Normal amount, I guess. We lived in a tiny three-bedroom house. There was just no getting away from each other.” He opened the door to the room at the very end of the hall and she was blown away at the bedroom before her. “This is your room.”
Room was an understatement, with the sitting area and the patio that led out to the pool. It was twice the size of her apartment. “This is amazing.”
“I hope you are comfortable here.”
“There’s not a strong enough word to tell you how I feel about this room.”
He nodded as if he were pleased by her answer and stepped forward, his hand raised. She wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but she held her breath as he grew closer, her heart beating a little quicker. He yanked the little bow at her throat, causing it to come loose and reveal the top of her chest. If it were anybody else she might have smacked them, but her chest felt looser, as if that little bow had been choking her.
“That’s better. I can’t look at you with that stupid bow.” His fingers lingered where they were, his knuckles pressed against her skin. Her nipples grew tight. She didn’t want him to remove his hand, but instead slide it down so that she could feel it in more than just one spot.
But that was a bad thought. She worked for him. He was her boss and she needed to keep her attraction to him in check no matter how tempting it was to jump off the deep end and onto him. Taking both of her hands, she wrapped them around his larger one and slowly pulled it away from her chest. “I didn’t know you were such a fashion critic.”
“It makes me doubt your taste, and since you are decorating my house that’s a concern for me.”
“Well, the wonderful thing about this being your house is that I will decorate it however you want. What is your vision for this place?”
“I have no vision. That why I hired you.”
“You have no idea at all? What about furniture? What about paint colors?”
“This is the room my mother or sister will stay in, so I want it to be made up for a woman. Other than that I don’t care what you do. Just make it nice. I don’t want any updates. I don’t want to know what you’re doing, just show me when you’re done.”
“You want a big reveal?” she asked, flabbergasted. “But you live here. It’s going to be hard to surprise you.”
“I don’t want anything done to the kitchen. I mostly keep to my bedroom and the gym. There’s also a theater room on the other side of the house that I might be in. But other than that I’ll stay out of your way. And, during the day, you stay out of mine.”
“Okay.” She nodded, even though it was going to be hard to make this place over without any direction from him at all.
“I have a credit card for you to use. There’s some cash for your expenses. There’s no budget, but I have cut you a check for half of your fee. If you don’t think it’s fair we can negotiate a higher price. Other than that, treat the house as if it were your own. The pool, kitchen and grounds are available to you. There’s a car in the garage for your use.”
“Okay.” She nodded again, not knowing what else to say.
“I’ll get you bags and leave you alone to get settled.” He walked out, and she was glad he did because she had just become overwhelmed by it all. This house, this job, was too big for her. It was so unlike the little beachside inns she loved doing, a far cry from the three-room condos she was used to. A house like this should have a team of designers, or at least somebody with more experience. But she didn’t have more experience and there was nobody else but her here to do it. So she was going to have to suck up her fears and get it done. Because she’d never quit a job in her life and she would be damned if this was her first.
* * *
Carlos left Virginia alone in her room. He knew he had gone a step too far when he’d unraveled that silly little bow on her shirt. But he hadn’t been able to help himself. It was as if his fingers had developed a mind of their own, eager to reveal the woman he had met a few days ago. The woman he couldn’t stop thinking about, even though he desperately tried to. She had come covered up today—long sleeves, long pants, closed-toe heels. Her hair was pinned back. Her wild curls hidden from him. He didn’t like it. The raw, earthy beauty she had was gone, and left was another professional-looking woman who was a dime a dozen.
He could tell she was subdued today, trying to be the person she thought should be instead of the woman she really was. He didn’t want normal. He didn’t want professional. If he had, he would have hung up on her the day he called. He never would have gone through the trouble of bringing her here in the first place.
And so when he’d been in her bedroom with her, he hadn’t been able to resist messing her up a little, revealing her a little. It was a mistake, because the backs of his fingers had touched the soft skin of her chest. It had taken everything inside him not to slide his hand just a little lower and pop open some of her buttons. He knew if he had, he wouldn’t have been satisfied with just looking at her. He would have wanted to run his fingers over the top of her cleavage, maybe lower his lips to her chest and kiss her there.
Kissing that lush body wouldn’t have been enough. There was the bed there, just across the room. It had stood before him like a big neon sign, beckoning him. All he’d have had to do was lift her off her feet and carry her there. All he’d have had to do was strip away those layers of clothes and cover her body with his own, satisfying a need he hadn’t known he’d had until she’d walked into his world.
But he had hired her to work for him and he knew that he shouldn’t cross that line, especially before one wall was painted. For now he just needed to keep out of her way and keep his hands off her.
* * *
Virginia changed out of the outfit that Carlos seemed to hate so much and spent the rest of the day wandering the house with her sketch pad in hand, making notes and just imagining what the space could be.
He was a superstar, an athlete and a legend in the making. Plus, he was a single man in the prime of his life. His house should reflect that. The common spaces were going to have to be sleek and sophisticated enough to impress any one of the important guests at his sister’s wedding, but she would make the bedrooms homey. Each one of them different and reflective of the beautiful setting around them.
Around six that night she left the dining room and went into the kitchen that, despite being renovated five years ago, looked as modern as some of the work she had recently done. Finished in a rich mahogany, it was a cook’s dream with its huge granite-top island, double ovens, multiple sinks and spacious countertops. It seemed like a waste for a single man.
Her stomach rumbled. Carlos had never mentioned anything about food, not that she was expecting him to provide her with meals, but she wondered what she was going to eat tonight. She opened the refrigerator door to find it filled with sport drinks and water. There were a couple of bottles of expensive imported beer, but not much else. Not even eggs. The freezer was full of frozen pizza. There were hot dogs there, too, and that left her wondering what the man ate. She opened the cabinets to see only protein bars and a large jar of peanut butter. Shaking her head, she changed the page on her pad and started making a list.
“Why are you shaking your head?”
She looked up to see Carlos standing in the doorway of the far side of the kitchen; the house was so big she hadn’t heard his footsteps. “I was just wondering how you keep your body so hard when you eat like a thirteen-year-old boy.”
“I thought I was eating pretty well,” he said as he stepped closer. “There’s no marshmallow cereal or instant cups of soup in there.” He stopped next to her, his body so close that his arm brushed against hers as he looked down at her list. She had changed into shorts and a tank top, a far cry from what she’d been wearing when she’d arrived. The brush of his skin against hers caused goose bumps to break out on her skin.
“Thank heaven for small miracles. I’m going to make a grocery store run.”
“You don’t have to. I can have whatever you want delivered.”
“And let somebody else choose my fruit? You must be crazy. There’s a grocery store in town, right?”
“There’s two. One that sells gourmet stuff. The other is where most of the locals go. Just tell the car’s GPS where you want it to go and it will lead you there.”
“Or you could lead me there.” She didn’t know why she’d issued the invitation, but the thought of leaving him alone in this huge house didn’t sit well with her.
“No.”
She was taken aback by his brisk refusal. “No? It will be dark by the time I get back. I was hoping there would be less of a chance getting lost on the island if you come with me.”
“You can wait until morning to go. There’s enough food here for the night.”
“I just thought you could show me around a little.”
“It’s not my job to show you around,” he said coldly. “I’m paying you for a service and that’s it. You have three choices. Take your chances alone in town tonight. Go in the morning. Or make a list of things you need and I’ll have them delivered. I’m not going into town.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll go in the morning.”
He nodded. “If you’re hungry, the frozen pizza isn’t bad.” He walked away then, leaving Virginia a little bit heartsore and a hell of a lot confused.
Chapter 4
Carlos woke up the next morning feeling like a world-class asshole. He had been rude to Virginia last night. Incredibly rude, and if his father had heard him he would have smacked him in the mouth.
She’d just wanted to go to the supermarket. It wasn’t a strange request; it wasn’t something that would require a lot out of him. Buying groceries was something that normal people did, but he hadn’t been normal in a very long time. And he hadn’t been off his property since he’d heard that the team’s doctors weren’t removing him from the injured list.
There was no need to leave here. There was nothing he had to do. No schedule he had to keep. Even before he left Miami he’d never ventured into a store. Everything he needed was delivered to him. All he had to do was pick up the phone.
It wasn’t as if he could just leave the house and go to the supermarket like anybody else. He’d stopped being able to the day he’d been drafted to the majors right out of high school. He wasn’t able to go to the park with his siblings without somebody recognizing him. He hadn’t been able to go to dinner in a normal chain restaurant without being mobbed by fans.
He had loved it, at first. He was grateful for all the love and support from his fans, but when he’d got hurt all that had changed. Now all people wanted to know was when he was coming back. When he was going to take his team to the playoffs again.
He didn’t have an answer for them. His parents had both worked two jobs to move them to a better neighborhood. His sister taught at-risk kids. His little brother was studying to be a surgeon. All he had to do was play baseball. And now that he couldn’t, he felt a little like a failure. He had lost the ability to do the thing that had made his father swell with pride every time he saw him play. Maybe he was on Hideaway Island to escape all of that, the expectation, the disappointment, now that he couldn’t give people what they wanted. He couldn’t do the only thing he had ever been good at.
That was why he had balked when Virginia had asked him to go grocery shopping with her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d left the house, much less gone out in public.
He went downstairs looking for her. She wasn’t in the kitchen, the dining room or the living room. Her bedroom was empty, her bed made up, the room clean as if no one had slept in it.
The house felt empty. Unlike last night. The house had felt different; it hadn’t felt as empty. He hadn’t felt as empty, knowing she was there. But now he wondered if she had gone, quit because he was the asshole who didn’t want to leave his house. He walked outside by the pool area, finding it empty, but then he spotted a little pair of gold sandals in the sand on the path that led to the beach.
As he walked down the pathway, seeing her footprints, his chest began to feel looser. And there she was, sitting at the edge of the water, her feet being splashed by the waves. Her dress was bunched up at her waist and she seemed lost in thought.
He kicked off his sneakers and sat beside her. The sand was damp, the water cool, but it was a shock to his system. He hadn’t done this before. He had what most people dream of—a private beach. Half an island to himself. Unspoiled nature surrounding him, and yet he had never sat outside and enjoyed it. Never felt the sand between his toes, never smelled the sweet, salty air, never looked out on the endless blue ocean that was right outside his home.
He felt guilty because he was here to enjoy this place when his father couldn’t. His father would be so disappointed to see that he hadn’t even bothered to go outside and just breathe it all in.