Chapter 9

Cinderella.

The name bounced around in her head the next afternoon as she tried to concentrate on the estimated figures in her budget proposal.

What did that make Dean—Prince Charming?

Sure, he had the looks, but the rest? Not hardly. She may have set aside her pride and accepted the job to preserve her business, but that didn’t mean she was going to forget one word of his damned accusations. No matter how many times she found herself daydreaming back to that night in his bedroom.

“I trust you won’t waste my money.”

Once again, she called bullshit. She didn’t trust that he trusted her with anything at the moment. A smart, successful man like him would have some kind of plan up his sleeve—and if he didn’t, Jackson was going to eat him alive.

Not your problem.

Sitting there with half her office packed up in boxes over on her previous assistant’s empty desk, she agreed with the voice in her head. Besides, there was clearly no love lost between the former business partners, so it stood to reason Dean knew exactly who and what he was dealing with.

Another reason for her to not trust the man. He wasn’t interested in saving her like some storybook hero, he only wanted to take care of himself.

With renewed determination, she ignored her empty stomach and focused on her spreadsheet. After a fair amount of research, she managed to finish the estimate by late afternoon. She sent the email to Dean with the budget as an attachment, then worked for another hour cleaning out her emails and catching up on some of the Tech Industry News Briefs newsletters before grabbing a new box to start sorting and packing one of her file cabinets. Even though she didn’t work in the computer world, she liked keeping up with industry news from TI.

She was sitting on the floor when the sound of her office door opening made her pulse skip a beat. Most of her business neighbors went home about four, leaving her floor of the office complex fairly deserted. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a visitor, much less one after seven o’clock at night. Usually she locked her door, but it’d completely slipped her mind tonight.

Her fingers tightened on the edge of the box at her side as she glanced over her shoulder. When Dean’s head appeared above the desk, her heart slammed against her ribs for a whole different reason.

She resisted the urge to slump in relief. Grabbing an armload of files, she pushed to her feet as his gaze swept over the partially dismantled room.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

Apparently she had absolutely no dignity left where he was concerned. “Exactly what it looks like. I’m closing my office.” His questioning brown gaze swung to hers and she plopped the files on her desk with a loud thump. “Don’t look so surprised. As you’ve pointed out on more than one occasion, you’re well aware of my financial situation.”

“Do you need an advance on your fee?”

She shook her head, surprised by a note of concern in his voice. “No. I mean, thank you, but no. I’ll be fine working from my apartment the next few months since most of the work I do is in other people’s homes anyway. Either that or I’m shopping for them.”

A quick glance caught his frown.

“I was paying too much for rent here anyway. Especially without a storefront.”

He slid his hands into his pockets. There was something different other than the leather jacket he wore over his usual wardrobe of T-shirt and jeans. She swept her gaze up from the brown leather and realized his hair was too short to brush the collar. Though the top remained a bit longer, all the shagginess was gone. Damn if he didn’t look better than ever.

“So, what brings you to town—other than a haircut?”

His mouth quirked up as his hand rose to rake through those trimmed strands the rich color of polished walnut. “I didn’t really expect to find you here this late.”

“Then why’d you stop?”

“I signed off on the expense account for the house. I’ll have a debit card for you by Thursday.”

“Okay.” Still didn’t explain what he was doing here, other than making her pulse race way too fast. She searched for a distraction and seized on the notepad she’d used the past two days. “Are you done with work for the day?”

“No. “

“Do you have to head back right away?”

He shrugged as if he wanted to see where she was going with the line of questioning. All she cared about right now was getting him out of her office. The man took up a lot of space, and it wasn’t just in the physical sense.

“If that’s a no, you’re coming with me.”

Curiosity flashed in his eyes. “Where?”

“While I was working up the budget, I came across a bedroom set that would be perfect in your room. The store is only a few minutes away.”

She was a glutton for punishment, but the way she saw it, it was better to take care of his bedroom now instead of in a few weeks when increased familiarity would only fuel the attraction that sizzled increasingly hotter each time she saw him.

“I thought you were going to start with the great room?”

“Don’t worry, it’ll get done. But as long you’re here, I think you should take a look at the bed and let me know if I’m on the right track.”

Without taking his hand from his pocket, he angled his left arm for a glance at his watch. “I suppose I can spare a few minutes.”

“Great.” She reached for her purse, keys, and windbreaker. “You can follow me there.”

He waited in the hall while she shut off the lights and locked the door. “How about I just drive?” he suggested.

Because then she’d be in an even smaller enclosed space with him, and the subtle scent of whatever cologne he was wearing was already wreaking havoc on her over-eager senses. “I’m going home right after, so I’d rather take my own car.”

Unfortunately, in that moment, a loud rumble announced the fact that she’d had nothing to eat since breakfast. Damn. She thought she’d moved past hungry.

“Was that your stomach?” His eyebrows arched and her face flamed.

“I worked through lunch.”

“On my budget?”

“Among other things.” She strode past the elevator for the stairs. Movement was a safer option than standing with him in the tiny elevator.

“Then the least I can do is buy you dinner.”

“My skipping lunch is not your fault,” she said as they skimmed down the three flights of stairs to the main floor. “I’ll grab something after we’re done at the furniture store.”

“I didn’t eat yet, either, so really, we could just be two people sitting at the same table at this casual little Italian restaurant not far from here.” He moved ahead of her to hold open the door leading outside. “Or we could really go crazy and maybe talk and get to know each other.”

At face value, the idea itself was dangerous, but she didn’t actually believe he intended to be the one revealing anything. At some point, he would have to realize whether he accused her outright, or tried to charm the information out of her, it wouldn’t make his suspicions true. Right now was a perfect opportunity to establish a connection that would gain his sincere trust.

She met his gaze and smiled as she stepped past him into the parking lot. His gaze wavered, and he ran his hand through his hair again. The man looked so uncomfortable with his subterfuge, she didn’t even have the heart to be annoyed. Besides, knowing what she was walking into gave her time to mentally prepare a good defense.

“I like Italian,” she said by way of agreement. “If we happen to end up at the same restaurant, the same table, I guess that’d be okay.”

He laughed, his tension eased. “Let’s guarantee it. I’m parked over here.”

After he surprised her by opening the passenger door like a true gentleman, she gave him directions to the furniture shop. Thankfully, it was a short ride and she was able to suck in a discreet breath to restore a normal level of oxygen in her lungs as they walked inside.

Then she was faced with a whole showroom section of beds, and a memory that wanted to pick up where it’d left off.

“Which one did you want to show me?” he asked.

“Look around first. I’m curious to see what you pick.”

His gaze switched from one set of furniture to the next. After a long, silent minute, he turned, and those brown eyes fixed on her. It felt like she was in the close confines of his vehicle again, pulse racing, oxygen at a premium.

Desperate for a distraction, she asked, “Do you have a preference for a certain type of wood? Oak, pine, cherry, mahogany…”

“What do you prefer?”

“It’s your room.”

He stepped closer, and she forced herself to hold her ground as he reminded, “I am paying you for your opinion.”

“I’d do pine.”

“Really?” A wrinkle of surprise creased his forehead. “Wouldn’t that be too much with the pine logs?”

“No, but that’s just my opinion. What do you want?”

His mouth widened into a full smile. Three feet had separated them, but now suddenly it was one. “You sure you want my answer to that?”

His low voice was smooth as satin, but warmer than wool. It added another dimension to the flashback vying for dominance in her head. She swallowed hard and focused on the collar of his T-shirt. “Only if it’s appropriate.”

He gave a dramatic sigh. “Pine, you say? I had been thinking mahogany, but now you’ve aroused my curiosity.”

She stepped to one side, away from the heat emanating from his large body. She tried to gauge if he was making fun of her or if he was serious, but didn’t want to look at him for too long. That’s when her imagination turned traitor and threatened to lay them both on the bed again.

Earlier, she’d sworn he was uncomfortable, but he’d switched to sensual flirting without missing a beat. The man was good at whatever game he was playing because she was hopelessly off-balance. She needed to take control.

“Mahogany would be too dark and heavy,” she said as she walked toward the back of the store. “So, starting with the bed…”

“Best place to start,” he murmured directly behind her.