Everywhere and Every Way(12)

"Not good enough. You stole a job that would've given me more than just  money. I could've built my reputation as an environmentally competent  builder. Instead, I get stuck with a house that will hardly be lived  in."

Her nail tapped faster against her glass. "You'll get exposure by publicity and a featured spread in Home Style magazine."

"In this town, everyone's going Green. It's the new thing. Not  overpriced, oversize mansions on the water that scream I'm better than  you. Welcome to the new century."

She seethed, more because he was right. Kind of. Green building  techniques were blowing up everywhere, and she'd snatched that prize  away from him. She wished the Rosenthals cared about social  consciousness, but they didn't. They wanted a huge, ostentatious house  that said they had arrived, without openly bragging. It was a fine line  she had been hired to walk. Morgan hated feeling guilty, but a tiny bit  seeped in. Pursing her lips, her brain clicked away at the percentages,  the financial breakdown, and her cushion that she'd automatically thrown  in.         

     



 

"Twenty percent. I won't go higher."

"Done."

The smirk made her realize she'd been conned. He would've taken 10  percent. Damn, damn, damn. That mistake would never happen again. To  make herself feel better, she snapped through the list of needs she'd  memorized. "Completion must be in six months. Turn-key ready. My specs  were clearly listed on the original plans and triple-checked with some  of the best architects in the world."

He snorted. "Don't care until Brady says it's doable. We go by my architect or no one at all."

She knew that would be the case, and had already anticipated agreement.  Again, she'd researched Brady Heart, and he was top-notch. "Fine. I have  final say in all decisions. The Rosenthals trust me to bring them a  home completed perfectly to their expectations, and the only way to  deliver is to be on-site the entire time."

"You like white, huh?"

She looked up from the glass she'd been tapping. "Huh?"

He jerked a thumb toward her outfit. "White. Second time I'm seeing you in that color. Not a great look for a site, you know."

Her gaze narrowed. "Mr. Pierce, I've been to over a dozen building sites  and know exactly how to handle myself. And what to wear. This is my  choice of outfit for business meetings and personal events only."

"Like hanging out at home? Were you just relaxing here or waiting for me to storm the gates of your castle?"

Oh, he saw too much. She'd need to be at her smartest to take him on.  The sizzle of challenge flowed in her blood, making her feel alive and  whole. It was pretty much the only time she felt like that. Negotiating.  Dealing with obstacles. The moment before she revealed the house her  clients had trusted her to complete. She loved the hit, wondering if  there was anything in life more fun than her job.

So far, sex had come a distant second.

Then again, she didn't even have an item ranking third.

Morgan made herself smile easily. "Relaxing."

"Huh. In that? You look like you're ready to host a tea party for some  stuffy churchgoers. And you're wearing shoes. High-heel shoes."

Confusion marred her brow. "And your point is?"

He grunted. "You hang out and kick back in a white linen suit with  frickin' heels on your feet? Do you know what that says about a person?"

She gritted her teeth and kept her smile. "That she's well prepared for anything?"

"No. It screams you don't know how to let go." He paused and looked  suspicious. "I bet you don't know how to have any fun, either."

Her mouth dropped open. "I know how to have plenty of fun! And you're  not one to talk about letting go. Something tells me from first sight  you're a bit of a control freak yourself."

His gaze raked her over, and he gave another disgusted snort. "Your  clothes don't even have a wrinkle. Look, princess, we're stuck with each  other. You forced me to take this job by playing dirty, so don't expect  me to treat you with pristine white kid gloves. We're looking at six  months for completion. This means overtired workers, a hundred decisions  every hour, and stressed-out suppliers. You say you've done this  before, but never like this, and never with me. Be warned-I'm going  hard-core. Understood?"

Oh, she wanted to curl her fingers into fists and stomp the floor and  hiss. He insulted her appearance and her personal life and made snap  judgments that enraged her. But she sensed he wanted her to get mad.  He'd give her that little smirk and feel as if he'd won.

Hard-core.

Morgan was taken aback by the sudden vivid image of his hard naked body  slamming hers against the wall, rubbing up against her, and getting her  very, very dirty.

Oh, no. Not with him. Not for any reason. He'd only respect her if she  exhibited a professionalism and took everything he gave while she  politely asked for another. Please.

Time to reverse the direction of his little game.

Morgan closed the distance between them. Her own gaze flicked over his  body in analysis and a cool dismissal that she hoped stung. "Now let me  warn you about something. I've built fifteen houses for some of the most  demanding clients you've ever met. They make you look like a sweet  little pussycat. I've gone days without sleep, camped out at the site  for a week to catch the thief stealing our precious koa wood, won a  catfight with one of our construction workers' wives who insisted we had  had an affair, and dealt with more sexual harassment and discrimination  than you can imagine. So, Charming, don't talk to me about being  hard-core." She pursed her lips and dropped her final words. "I invented  hard-core."         

     



 


Ah, shit.

He wanted to kiss her.

When he first walked in, he'd been struck by the clean elegance of the  hotel suite, with her as reigning queen. The penthouse was pure luxury,  and damned if the carpet and furnishings weren't white and vanilla  cream. She looked like she perfectly matched her surroundings. The linen  suit, heels, and smart bob drove him crazy. Who the hell hung out  looking like that? The only weakness he deciphered was the tiny black  ink spot on the edge of her sleeve. Probably from holding a pen that  leaked. Her other saving grace was the loss of one earring. When she  moved her head, subtle pearls caught the light at her ears, but one was  bare. Maybe she'd lost it sometime today and hadn't figured it out. The  fact comforted him that she wasn't a robot but real. Even better was her  temper and her sharp tongue.

It was kind of magnificent.

Caleb watched her pretty pink mouth curl upward in a sexy kitten growl  and her pretty pink nails curl inward as if ready to pounce. He locked  his muscles down tight and rode out the fierce firestorm of pure want  battering his dick. Well, this was not expected. He liked his women  rough, tumbled, and messy. Morgan probably had sex with the lights off,  under expensive sheets, full makeup on, and a wet wipe handy for quick  cleanups.

But damn, she was kind of hot.

He studied her closely, and sure enough, there was a gleam of heat  lasering from those china-blue eyes. Her cheeks flushed, and her breath  came a bit faster than normal. A tight, swirling energy buzzed around  them, a mixture of arousal, temper, and hormones. Hmm, interesting. She  definitely felt the same connection, but like him, seemed determined to  ignore it. Much easier to hold on to the prickly dislike they had for  each other. He never slept with anyone on a job. Mixing business and  pleasure was disastrous. He'd had too many close calls with women who  liked the side benefit of banging their contractor, but Caleb wasn't  stupid. He knew when to use his big head rather than his little one.  There were tons of other women willing and able, and not pissy enough to  ruin the job over jealousy, possessiveness, or spite.

No. Nothing could happen between them, but it was kind of fun to push her limits.

Her pupils dilated when he suddenly leaned in real close. Their faces  were inches apart. He caught her scent-a balanced mix of floral and  citrus, clean and refreshing and completely addictive. Caleb barely  managed not to take a huge sniff. Her lips parted, dewy and moist, and  he clung to his iron-will control that had served him in all situations,  including the time he'd been greeted by a new client with a welcoming  smile and naked body. He'd tipped his head, told her they'd talk when  she had clothes on, and left while she cursed his retreating back.

"I have one question for you."

Her body stiffened. Her voice came out a tad ragged. "What?"

He smiled real slow. Let her wait for it. "How'd you get your hands on the koa wood? Were you building in Hawaii?"

She blinked. Shook her head as if to clear it, then stepped back. "Umm,  no. We were in Texas, and we had a contact that got us on a list to snag  a large inventory. That's your question?"

He rocked back on his heels, satisfied. "Yep. Those contacts could come in handy, I assume?"