Snowbound with the Boss(11)
He looked at her for a long moment, then set down his coffee cup and reached for her. She went willingly enough because hey, Kate already knew how amazing he could make her feel.
“All very logical,” he said, nodding. “Good points, too. But you left one thing out.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Sex,” he said with a shrug. “Between us, it’s incredible.”
“Not enough to build a marriage on and why are we still talking about this?” she asked.
“Because I want you to admit you want me.”
“I do—just not as a husband.”
“I can live with that,” he said, one corner of his amazing mouth tipping up into a smile that tugged at something deep inside her. Kate felt herself melting. Sean Ryan was so bad for her. Maybe that’s why she was enjoying him so much.
His gaze fixed on her mouth, and she licked her lips in anticipation. When he bent his head and kissed her, she sank into it. This thing between them was powerful, energizing, and she would be a fool not to take everything she could from this interlude before her world went back to normal.
* * *
A few hours later, the memory of Kate’s laughter was sharp and bright in Sean’s mind. He hated knowing that she’d been right about his reaction when she talked about a future. It was knee-jerk for most men, probably. They were, as a species, fairly suspicious, waiting for a woman to get that white-picket-fence gleam in her eye. A man had to stay wary just to make sure he had time to make a clean getaway.
Sean had had it happen to him too many times to count. Every casual relationship he’d ever been in had eventually become a tug-of-war centered around marriage. He knew what the women were thinking—a wedding. Kids. Access to Sean Ryan’s fortune. Was it so surprising then that he immediately assumed that Kate was no different?
But, of course, she was, he told himself grimly. Not only was she not interested in snagging him into some kind of relationship, but she also found the very idea laughable and that just annoyed hell out of him.
“The snow’s getting to you,” he muttered. It was the only explanation, Sean thought. “Being trapped with a woman like Kate is bound to make a man a little nuts.”
She was like no one he’d ever known. She filled his thoughts, tormented his body and, at the moment, was working him like a slave driver. Sean was used to running meetings, winning over clients and snagging huge market deals. He had meetings. Dinners. Drinks with a client at some exclusive restaurant.
What he wasn’t accustomed to was swinging a hammer. He’d already helped her pull up linoleum in one bathroom, tear down some hideous paneling in what would eventually be the first-floor game room and now he’d been tasked to tear up some—God help him—shag carpeting in one of the upstairs suites. He tightened his grip on the worn, wooden handle, slid the claw top beneath the edge of the faded floor covering and pried it loose.
Carpet tacks gave, and Sean tossed the hammer aside to grab the rug with both hands. He pulled it up as he backed across the room and coughed at the years of dust flying into the air. It was hard, dirty work, and he was getting a new appreciation for the men and women who did this kind of thing daily.
Women like Kate. When he first met her a week ago, Sean had seen only the coldly efficient shell of the woman. She knew her job and wasn’t afraid to stand up to Sean when she believed she was right. He’d admired that even while arguing with her.
Now he knew more. Knew the heat of her, the passion bubbling right beneath the surface. Knew that even while she gave herself to him, she kept parts of herself locked away. It surprised him to realize how much he wanted to know what she was hiding. And why. She would close him out expertly at the slightest threat of getting too close.
Like you? his mind whispered.
Scowling, he told himself that everyone had secrets. Everyone had pockets of regret or guilt or misery tucked away that were rarely brought out to be inspected. His were his own business—hell, even Mike didn’t know about them—and so he would leave Kate with hers.
What lay between them was desire born of convenience. That was it. So he’d work, he’d sleep with her and then when they finally got the hell out of this damned hotel, he’d go home. Where he belonged and where he could put this whole situation into perspective.
“Nice job.”
She moved quietly. He turned to look at Kate, standing in the open doorway. Sean didn’t want to admit, even to himself, what seeing her wearing a damn tool belt did to him. She looked confident and too damned sexy for his peace of mind. Her worn jeans hugged her legs, the hem of her tunic sweater hung to her hips and her boots were as scarred as his own. The tool belt that was currently driving him insane fit her as undeniably as diamonds might another woman.
Man, he was losing it fast.
“Thanks,” he said wryly. “But pulling up old carpet doesn’t take a lot of finesse.”
“Just time and effort,” she agreed, then walked into the room and skirted around him and the roll of carpet. She went down to one knee to examine the wood floor that had been hidden beneath the ratty carpet. “Looks good,” she mused, more to herself than to him. “I was hoping for this. Hardwood, even battered and scarred like this, can be sanded and brought back to life a lot cheaper than buying new floors throughout.”
Nodding, he watched her stroke her fingertips over the wide planks with the same gentleness she’d used to caress his chest. His body stirred, and he gritted his teeth, ignoring the flash of heat.
She whipped her ponytail back out of her way and glanced at him. “If all the floors look this good, we’ll be saving you a lot of money.”
“Always a good thing,” he agreed.
She stood. “I’ve got the rugs in two other rooms rolled up and their floors are nearly perfect, so I’m hopeful. What I’d like to do now is check out the basement, see what we’ve got down there.”
“Didn’t you already do that when you made your first inspection for your bid on the job?”
“Sure.” She shrugged and rested one hand on the hammer hanging from her belt. “But it was a quick look, mainly checking for foundation issues. Now that we’ve got some time...”
He laughed shortly. “Plenty of that.”
“Exactly. We can look at it and see what improvements can be made.”
One eyebrow winged up. “We’re done pulling up carpet?”
“I just wanted to get an idea of the shape of the floors. The rest my crew can do when the storm’s over.”
One glance at the window told Sean the snow was still swirling like a thick white veil. “If it’s ever over.”
“It will be. I’ve been through these storms all my life.”
“Not me,” he said with a sigh born of missing the ocean, the sand, the sea breeze. “I’m a surf-and-sand kind of guy.”
“You’ll be back to it soon,” she told him, and their gazes locked for one tension-filled moment. “For now, though...the basement?”
“Why not?” He shrugged, following her as she headed downstairs, and his gaze dropped unerringly to the curve of her behind. Whatever else the woman was, she had a great butt and the ability to work him into an inferno without even trying. He had to admire that even while it made him a little crazy.
“The banisters will have to be tightened,” she said over her shoulder. “The base is loose and you don’t want it wobbly.”
“Absolutely not.” He gave said banister a shake and felt it wiggle under his hand. Right again, he thought, then told himself this was why he’d hired her in the first place. Kate Wells had a reputation for being a perfectionist when it came to her work, and that was something he understood and approved of.
She hit the bottom of the stairs and headed across the great room, where the fire still burned against the constant chill in the room. Through the kitchen and into the butler’s pantry, she opened the door to the basement and started down the stairs.
The light spilled from two overhead lamps, illuminating a wide room that was empty but for a line of dated washing machines and dryers. There was a workbench along one wall and a pegboard above it, just waiting for someone to fill it with tools. The floor was cement, the windows were narrow and high, blocked now with piles of snow. The walls were cement blocks, which only seemed to magnify the cold outside the building.
“I always thought basements were a little creepy,” Sean said to himself.
“Agreed,” Kate said, throwing him a quick look as she pulled out a measuring tape and laid it down on the floor as she walked off the space. “But they don’t have to be. Still, having the laundry down here doesn’t seem real handy for the housekeeping staff.” She paused to make note of numbers on a small memo pad she dug out of her tool belt. “Especially since they have to come and go through the kitchen.”
“You’re right.” Nodding, he glanced back up the stairs before reluctantly admitting, “I wouldn’t have thought of that. But if the kitchen staff is busy, then having housekeeping coming and going will make everyone’s job harder than it has to be.”
She made a few more notations, then wound the tape back into its shell. With it tucked away, she inspected the block walls and said, “A little insulation down here would make it more livable.”