Everywhere and Every Way(8)
Caleb Pierce never moved. Didn't blink. Just kept a stillness of thought and body that both fascinated and impressed her. He would be a worthy opponent.
What would he be like as a lover?
Demanding. Patient. Hot.
How sad her career was so important, she'd forgotten to take care of her sex life. Of course, the man was a raw specimen of primitive male, from his rock-hard body to those come-and-let-me-do-very-bad-things-to-you eyes. Wasn't her fault she hadn't enjoyed a lover for a long time. She was too busy. And most of the men she met were off-limits as her clients or not worth her energy. Morgan didn't think she was picky. She just wasn't one to scratch a physical itch and walk off in the morning, and with her job traveling all over the place, settling down wasn't in her immediate future. Her rambling thoughts got cut off by his sudden, terse words.
"As interesting as this conversation has been, I must end it. I'm sorry, Ms. Raines, but my original answer of no stands."
"Why? The pay is quite generous."
His brow rose in mockery. "Money is nice but not the deciding factor."
"Tell me what you want to take this job, and I'll get it for you."
His gaze heated. "I'm tempted to test your claim."
She barely managed not to roll her eyes. "Please be original, Mr. Pierce. I'm sure you have much higher demands than me."
Was that an expression of humor flicking over his face? No, just a shadow thrown by the window behind him. Morgan already figured he'd have a wretched sense of humor. He seemed way too intense and focused for a few light laughs or jokes. "I'm sure you're right. But you're not understanding me. You won't be able to meet my price, because I don't have one. Pierce Brothers is already overbooked, and I've just signed an important client I'll be involved with for the rest of the year. When I personally oversee a job, I never take another one. I like to concentrate on the one I'm with in all aspects."
The words drilled at her seemed filled with buckets of meaning, all leading to sex. But Morgan now accepted that Caleb Pierce turned her on, and she'd have to get over it. She had no time for silly weak bodily reactions just because she was hot for him. Their short conversation already confirmed she wasn't his type anyway.
Morgan sifted through his explanation, probing the holes and what she needed to do so that he'd change his mind. "Who's your client?" she asked.
"That's confidential."
"No, it's not. You just don't want to tell me."
"You have excellent instincts."
Morgan pursed her lips and thought hard. "You have a large team. You couldn't shift your assistants to take care of your other client? The Rosenthals will be quite grateful. They're known for calling in huge favors, so Pierce Brothers will be set up for a long, long time."
"I don't have that problem now," he pointed out. "We have more business than we know what to do with. I pick and choose what jobs I want to work on and don't have to deal with any horse heads in my bed."
His acerbic wit was almost fun. Almost. Her instincts screamed that he was lying to her. He wasn't booked up. He just didn't want the project. A faint smile coasted over her lips. "You knew from the first you wouldn't take on this job, didn't you? Why are you so against it?"
He shrugged. "Maybe I like building houses people will actually want to live in and settle into? Houses they can actually love? I know what your clients really want. They want a cushy home to settle into rather than a cold hotel. They'll spend buckets of money, move in, and stay six months. Then the novelty will have worn off, and they'll move on to the next interesting location, and all my blood, sweat, and tears would've been for nothing. Sorry, not interested."
Fascinated, she leaned in, studying the distaste on his face. Goodness, he was more passionate about his work than she'd imagined. A faint pang of regret coursed through her. He was right. Her celebrity clients didn't really care about a home they could raise children and build a history with. It was a means to an end, and when the film wrapped up, they'd probably move back overseas to Europe or to sunny, perfect California.
Morgan hardened her heart against such silly emotions. Her job was simple. Only Pierce Brothers would be able to take on such a complicated project and do it perfectly. She'd done the research. In the Northeast, they were simply the best, their reputation spreading far and wide even after losing their father, who had been the patriarch and main force behind the company. Already time was ticking, and they needed to break ground soon to meet her deadline.
She needed to change Caleb Pierce's mind. Fast. All obstacles had to be removed so that he had no other choice but to take this job.
"Thank you for being honest with me, Mr. Pierce." Standing up, Morgan reached over the desk to offer her hand. He jerked a tiny bit in his chair, obviously surprised at her sudden change of tactic, then slowly held out his hand. "I'll be in touch."
His fingers closed over hers in a firm, warm grip. For a stunning second, Morgan felt completely caught up and surrounded by him, as if his very presence pressed down upon her, lighting up her nerve endings and at the same time soothing her.
Goodness gracious.
Morgan dropped her hand, startled. She'd never felt such a connection by a simple touch, man or woman. Usually she was even a bit reserved, preferring to use verbal rather than physical communication. Yet, in a matter of moments, Caleb Pierce made her crave more. Goose bumps broke out on her arms, which were thankfully covered by her proper suit jacket.
His gaze was laser sharp, taking in her reaction. Morgan quickly gathered her composure and made sure to keep her pace even and steady, ignoring the pain as her heels clicked smartly on the polished floor.
"Do you want to leave your card for other referrals?"
Her hand paused on the knob. "No need. I'm sure you'll change your mind by the end of the week and take the job. I'm staying at the Hilton. Penthouse."
Morgan shut the door before he had a chance to respond.
Take that, Charming.
Now she had to get to work.
Caleb stared at the closed door and wondered what the hell had just happened.
His head pounded from a crap day and the fight with his brother, so he fell back into the cushy leather chair and took another stinging sip of bourbon. She was a slip of a thing, all Southern proper, until she opened her mouth and turned into a little spitfire. He'd been dealing with so many various people in his career, Caleb believed there was little that surprised him anymore.
But she had.
He remembered her proposal, and her multiple follow-up calls he'd transferred immediately to Sydney, his assistant. Name-dropping didn't impress him like it had his father, and he intended to take on only the clients he wanted to for the future. Sure, the company was struggling, but he was sure it would come around. With Jet McCarthy on board, he'd finally get to sink his teeth into a meaty environmental construction project. As a huge proponent of Green properties, Cal intended to build a home completely eco-friendly, demanding all of his time and effort. The money was good, too, so it would go a long way to paying off the piled-up bills he hadn't seen coming after his father's death.
The will was a real bitch. In addition to having to run the company with his brothers, all previous jobs were yanked from contributing to the bottom line of profit. Basically, Cal was starting out with almost a brand-new business that he had to prove would make money in a year. Only a month had passed since his brothers had all moved in together, and they were sinking fast.
He swiveled around in his chair, stared out the window at the rolling acres of green grass, and brooded.
Problem was they didn't want to work together. Cal had been so damn hopeful after their conversation on the porch. But the moment they began working on a job, each of them wanted to do separate things under the umbrella of the company. Tristan focused on property and renovation, Dalton tried to fill each house with a staggering amount of expensive cabinetry and built-ins to show off his technique, and Cal just wanted to put up the houses. Old resentment still stirred in the air, so they tried to avoid each other, and when they were in the same room for too long, a damn fistfight almost broke out.
Not a great foundation for making a business profitable. The news of Christian's death had also taken a chunk out of their clientele, with many who had been loyal to his father dropping out, thinking the company couldn't get the job done in time. Cal knew that, like anything in life, reputation was half the battle. If people believed Pierce Brothers was successful and dynamic, the clients lined up. The moment they caught the scent of failure, his competitors were laughing their asses off all the way to the bank.