The house they pulled up to reminded Josh of his grandda’s castle back at home. From an architectural standpoint, the baronial stone-hewn castle with its towers and turrets and built-on wings was nothing like the classic colonial revival house he now entered. Yet, both buildings undeniably invoked presence on their surrounding neighbourhoods. Plus, both backed onto water -- the ocean at home, the long length of a lake here.
The sense of familiarity persisted walking around inside the house, too. He just wasn’t sure why. It was almost as if he’d been here before, as if he could move in tomorrow and call the place home.
The doors opened onto what at home would have been called a great room. A large, open space with white-washed walls and dark walnut trim was separated into sections by the floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace standing in the middle of the gleaming hardwood floors. Comfortable sofas in neutral colours were arranged directly in front of the fireplace, an inviting sheepskin rug lay on the floor in front of the hearth.
Deep walnut wood set off the square-paned windows, and dark as it was outdoors, Josh could see Augusta’s reflection in the curtain-free glass. He appreciated the old-fashioned radiators standing underneath those windows. A classic house like this should, in his opinion, be left in its original condition where possible. As much as he appreciated modern improvement such as electricity and indoor plumbing, character homes were about mood far more than they would ever be about modern convenience. Somehow, without even knowing her, he wasn’t surprised that Augusta was a woman who would understand such a thing.
“I can see why you didn’t choose to sell.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“When you inherited. I’d have fallen in love with her, too. She’s a beauty,” Josh said, running the palm of his hand down the thick walnut handrail of the staircase on the left side of the room. “Classy of you to keep the original feel of her.”
“Excuse me?”
He glanced at Augusta, noted the frown on her face, and smiled.
“You inherited the house three years ago. From an auntie you hadn’t seen since childhood who lived in the town of Vernon, British Columbia, Canada – a place you’d been to only once. You had, of course, no real emotional connection to the place, and you told Hers Magazine your immediate intent had been to sell the house and invest the money. To honour the connection to family, though, you visited the place first, and fell hard. Love at first sight, I believe you said.”
He smiled at her again. Her cheeks had reddened, her fantastic eyes had narrowed. Neither reaction concerned him at all. He merely shrugged. Gave her a straight-forward and entirely direct look.
“You didn’t think I wouldn’t have done my research on the three of you before coming all this way to offer you my business, did you?” He stepped away from the impressive staircase, stepped nearer to Augusta until he was looking directly into her eyes. “I know everything about you that the Internet has to offer. I liked what I learned enough to come all this way. And, Augusta,” he reached out, tilted her chin up with his index finger and decided he rather liked it that her eyes spat daggers at him over the uninvited familiarity, “I’m looking forward to learning more.”
She couldn’t decide if she felt violated or attracted to the man. Or both. Despite herself, Augusta shivered when the mere touch of his finger sent a current pulsing through her skin. He dropped his hand, grinning -- she thought -- smugly. So, she refused to admit, even to herself, that she secretly might have preferred he touch her more.
And gah!
When had the slight slide of a finger on her chin ever had her thinking like that before? And why him? (Client. Must not touch.) Why now?
Well, that was a question she knew the answer to. It had been two months since she’d broken off with Nick. Long enough for the tears to dry and the worst of the disappointment to fade. And, apparently, long enough for her body to remember it enjoyed – and missed -- male attention.
“So, what is the fireplace hiding?” Josh said, looking curiously around the room once more. It was impossible to see past the solid column of stones making up the chimney shoot.
“Dining room and kitchen,” Augusta said, happy to hear her voice sounded normal. Whatever the strange reaction of the earlier moment, she clearly sounded like her own, sane self. Chewing on her bottom lip, she hesitated briefly, then apparently came to a conclusion. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour.”
She’d done the exact same thing in the car while driving, chewing her bottom lip when aggravated. Josh smiled to himself. Miss Chamberlain had a tell. And a sexy one, at that. It didn’t bother him that his presence seemed to have disturbed her peace of mind. Didn’t faze him in the least to admit that he wouldn’t mind chewing on those luscious lips himself.
Her rear view was none too shabby, either, he realized as he followed Augusta from room to room. Her butt cheeks were round and high, a perfect match for the slender, athletic hips which swayed enticingly as she walked. Augusta Chamberlain’s rump was a view made for a man to enjoy. Josh wasn’t one to ignore a fabulous view.
On the back side of the fireplace, they’d walked through a room shared between a dining table and a beautiful, black baby grand piano and into a reasonably-sized kitchen.
It was here that renovations had clearly taken place, and he wholeheartedly approved of the modernization that had been done. The kitchen contained sparkling stainless-steel appliances, and a full-service dishwasher next to the basin sink. What appeared to be a Waterford crystal bowl filled with fruit sat on a counter, and when Josh’s stomach grumbled at the sight, Augusta held out an apple in offering.
“Help yourself to anything you see,” she said.
“Anything?” he asked. His fingers brushed over hers as he took the apple, and he heard the slight catch in her breathing. Neither of them was sure whether it was the collision of skin or the suggestion in his tone which caused the reaction. But, Josh knew he liked it, and he winked at her. “Because, I’m going to need to get my hands on that piano while I’m here.”
“You play?”
He smiled, then nodded.
“Oof. Well, that tells me you didn’t search me out on the web, then.”
She huffed out a little laugh, and damn if the look she gave him wasn’t tinged with smug satisfaction.
“I do the books, not the background research. I’d have had no need to know a thing about you, Mr. McLaughlin.”
“Oy.” He clutched at his chest in mock pain. “Stabbed to the heart I am. And, Mr. McLaughlin’s my father. I’m just Josh, and we’ll get on much better if you call me by my given name.”
She smiled at him overly sweetly and, saying nothing in response, moved on to the next room. Twisting the ancient doorknob, she opened the solid walnut door. “This is the office,” she said unnecessarily, when Josh poked his head in and looked around at the orderly collection of desks with all the expected office accoutrements. Ignoring the industrial printing machine and the filing cabinets, his eyes were nonetheless captivated by the framed glossy magazine covers which graced one wall.
Augusta was chewing her lip again as she watched him carefully study each cover. When he nodded his approval, he sensed her slight exhale of relief, and was reminded that Near and Far Magazine was still a fledgling enterprise.
There were critics of his decision to send his business their way. His grandfather, for one, had taken some convincing. Still, Josh had reasons for his choice, and he considered them sound ones.
“There’s internet in here if you should need a connection,” Auggie said, shutting the door behind her as she walked past him near enough that he caught the faint, earthy base notes of her perfume. “Use the space anytime you need.”
The scent of her reminded him of the wildness of the ocean, somehow. It caught him off guard how strongly that subtle reminder of home made him want to simply pull her in and drink. Instead, he buttoned down the urge to press himself against his hostess and sample the taste of her, right there where the flutter of her pulse beat along the side of her neck. He followed closely enough that he could have done, though, had she invited the intention.
She made no such offer. Rather, Augusta looked over her shoulder and down a long, straight nose at him, and he got the message, gave her more space.
“I’ll show you to your room now,” she said, and led the way to the upper level. Pointing, she indicated the bathroom, then she stopped in front of a closed door. She was once again chewing on her lip, though he had no idea why. Then that same slightly vindictive smile he’d seen earlier glinted in her eyes.
“You can have this room,” she said, secret humour dancing across her features. “It’s Mellie’s. We don’t have a guest room, I’m afraid. But she won’t be here to need it.” When that same self-satisfied expression darted across her face, Josh figured he understood its source. Mellie had saddled her, unasked, with his company. In her own subtle way, she was getting her own back. He could certainly respect the urge.
She pushed the door open and stepped back, but not quite all the way. Curious what her reaction would be, Josh brushed against her slightly as he moved past, found it most interesting when she didn’t step away. And when she looked up, met his eyes, the naughty humour was gone, evaporated by a flash of heat. And well, hmmm, if that wasn’t information which might come in handy in the future.
“Where will you be then?”
“Oh.” She turned, then faltered slightly before pointing quickly to the room beside him. “My room’s next door.” She stepped back, and her voice went brisk, businesslike. Josh figured he’d just been introduced to Augusta the accountant. “So, welcome to Hamilton House. I imagine you could use some time to recover from any jet lag.” And, in truth, she needed some time to herself, since the longer she stood in the doorway to his room, the stronger she had the urge to invite herself inside.
She was backing away from his door with every word she spoke, and Josh found her apparent sudden panic adorable. Was it him or herself she wasn’t trusting? He was tempted to press the moment, see if he could discover an answer. Instead, he merely watched her flee.
She hadn’t far to go, and when she entered her bedroom then closed the door behind her fully and firmly, he had to smile.
What a sweet little mixture of naughty and nice Augusta Chamberlain appeared to be.
More than ever, he was determined to learn the secrets of that quick, complicated mind. And if the body that accompanied that mind decided to cozy up his way, he wouldn’t be minding in the slightest.