“Sign here,” the guy said.
Gemma stood there until the driver pulled away, feeling awkward, her vital signs heightened. “I didn’t mean to be nosy,” she said in a rush. “But the driver looked confused and I was relatively sure you weren’t going to install a pair of Corinthian columns on the front of a Mission-style house.”
His slow grin melted her apprehension. “You’re right. I owe you. That one mistake could’ve set back the entire project.”
She shrugged, ridiculously pleased. “It was nothing. Besides, you’ve come to my rescue more than once the past couple of days.”
He glanced around. “Any sign of our resident peacock?”
“Not today.”
“Maybe he’s moved on.”
She nodded. “Well, I should be getting back to my yard work.”
He nodded, but his gaze darkened and his lips parted, as if he wanted to say something…about last night? The tension in the air vibrated between them like a taut wire, but Gemma couldn’t bring herself to look away.
“How about taking that tour we talked about?” he asked, nodding towards his place. “Actually, I could use your advice on a couple of other things inside the house since you know about the architecture.”
“I’m no expert,” she protested, shaking her head.
“Still,” he said, coaxing her with a smile.
Between that smile and her burning curiosity to see the inside of the building, Gemma relented. “I’d like that.”
He led the way, and she fell into step next to him, a tingle of anticipation in her stomach both at the prospect of seeing the interior of the house and at spending time with the vibrant, exotic man. He was dressed in work clothes that were, at this time of the day, relatively clean. She touched her hair self-consciously. “I must look a fright.”
His sexy smile enveloped her in its radiating warmth. “You look great to me.”
She blushed and chided herself for sounding coy when last night she’d climaxed in front of him, not caring—hoping, even—that he’d been watching.
He seemed to drag his gaze away from her. “The columns are meant for here, of course,” he said, sweeping his arm toward the covered porch, whose roof was being held in place with several planks of wood that had been nailed together as a makeshift support system.
“They’ll be perfect,” she murmured.
He stopped at the front door. “I should’ve asked—have you ever been inside?”
“No. But I’ve peeked through the windows a few times.” Then she blanched. Peeking through windows was becoming a theme where the two of them were concerned.
From the way he looked at her, she knew that he’d noticed her gaffe. Heat suffused her face, but his brown eyes glinted with the light of a banked fire. “It’s even better when you can see things up close.”
She swallowed hard, unable to maintain eye contact. He opened the door and motioned for her to precede him. When she brushed by him, a jolt of electricity shot up her arm where warm pink skin met warm brown skin. Warning bells sounded in her head. If the man could ignite her essence with an accidental touch, what kind of sensual assault could he perpetrate on her with full body-on-body contact?
Dismissing the thought with a mental shake, she walked into a once-grand foyer that even in its state of decay, served up a soaring welcome, from the wrought-iron chandelier to the curved staircase that led to the second floor. Terra-cotta tile at their feet, much of it now cracked and dull from dirt and age, stretched in both directions.
“Wonderful,” she breathed.
“I’m going to have to replace most of the tile inside and out,” he said ruefully, then led her to the left into a long kitchen/keeping room.
“It’s huge,” she observed. And it wasn’t hard to imagine a family gathered here, laughing and passing heaping platters of food. Regret pinged through her chest. The holidays this year would be an awkward, lonely affair with only her and her frosty parents.
“I’d like to put in oversize appliances,” he said. “What do you think?”
Gemma’s eyebrows climbed. “About appliances?”
He shifted from foot to foot. “From a woman’s point of view. It’s been my experience that the kitchen usually makes or breaks the sale.”
She hesitated. “Well, I’m not much of a cook…lately. But I’d say anyone who recognizes what a great kitchen this is will want appliances to measure up. Personally, I’d love a firebrick oven.” She turned her head and smiled at the colorful picture that, with an inset wood frame, appeared to be built into the wall. “A mural, how lovely.”
He made a mournful noise as he fingered the worn, moldy piece of canvas. “Unfortunately, it’s so deteriorated I’m going to have to tear it out and fill in this area of the wall.”
“That’s too bad,” she murmured, then turned to the end of the room. “Look at the fantastic natural light.” She walked to the windows that faced out onto the dry, cracked pool in the backyard. “Are you going to restore the pool?”
He nodded. “I’m going to have it retiled.”
He showed her two rooms that could be bedrooms, one of which he’d turned into a makeshift office with a card table and a folding chair. A box of files and a legal pad of paper sat on the table, with stacks of product brochures scattered all over. She noted the stark contrast of this man’s workspace compared to Jason’s home office, which had to be furnished with the best of everything before he could even inhabit the space.
“Do you have another home nearby?” she asked.
“Another home?”
“Do you…live in Tampa?”
“Oh. No. I move around a lot for commercial carpentry jobs. The reason I have so little time to flip this house is because I have a job lined up in Miami in a few weeks.”
Why did the thought of him leaving plant a seed of worry in her stomach? She studied Chev’s unyielding profile as he led her up the circular staircase. His strong nose, his high cheekbones, his chisled jaw. He exuded power…and sex appeal.
“Some of the woodwork is in bad shape,” he said, shaking the wooden banister and watching splintered chunks fall to the floor below.
“Plaster ceilings,” she exclaimed, glancing up at the fissures around the iron light fixture.
“Expensive to repair, but worth it, I think.”
“Do you already have interested buyers?”
“An auction date is set, and several agents have said they’ll have clients here. Assuming I can do justice to the original architecture, of course. She was a beauty.”
Gemma murmured her agreement, especially when the second story opened into a master suite and bath that even in its state of disrepair, took her breath away. The wood moldings alone were a masterpiece. Her focus went to the cot set up in the corner of the room, then to the shuttered round window that was opposite her bedroom window.
“This is where I sleep,” he said unnecessarily. “The bathroom up here is the only one working at the moment.”
She nodded, hugging herself against the awkwardness that seemed to swamp the stuffy room. Wondering what was going through his head, she decided, was worse than knowing. “Awfully warm up here to have the window closed, don’t you think?”
“I was just trying to give you some privacy,” he said mildly. “This window looks into one of your upstairs rooms.”
“My bedroom,” she confirmed.
He nodded. “I, um, gathered that.”
Feeling bold, she asked, “You don’t like what you’ve seen?”
His mouth opened slightly, then his eyes turned smoky and he stepped in front of her. “On the contrary.”
He was standing so close, they might as well have been touching. His full, sensuous mouth was almost familiar to her. She could see the stubble of a patch of whiskers that he’d missed that morning shaving, could smell the lingering scent of his minty shaving cream. His powerful chest rose and fell quickly, his breathing as rapid as hers. He lowered his head and claimed her mouth in a motion so natural she didn’t realize it was happening until she felt the shock of his warm tongue thrusting into her mouth.
Gemma moaned and opened her mouth to accommodate him. Her arms slid around his waist as if she were comfortable kissing a virtual stranger. The kiss went from hot to scorching as he pulled her roughly against him, his hands skimming up and down her back. Gemma gave up the kiss to let her head loll back in pure pleasure as his hands explored her body. He groaned in her ear as his erection pressed into her stomach, and he jammed his hand into the warm juncture of her thighs. She squeezed her legs against his fingers, her knees weakening as desire swelled in her midsection.
His hands felt so good on her body…too good—
Her eyes flew open as the reality of where they were headed crashed down around her. This was where touching led…to a dangerous, vulnerable place…much safer to watch, and to be watched…
She stiffened and withdrew from his embrace. “I…can’t.”
Chev’s breath rasped out as he visibly tried to rein in his libido. “I guess I misunderstood.”
Gemma started backing away, stumbled, and caught herself before he could get to her. “No, you didn’t. But I need to keep things…at a distance.”