Текст книги "Reckless In Love"
Автор книги: Bella Andre
Соавторы: Jennifer Skully
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
CHAPTER TWO
One hundred thousand dollars.
Charlie stared at the check. She couldn’t believe it. But there were the numbers, written out in all that lovely script. The man’s handwriting was as beautiful as his face. And his clothes. And especially his body beneath the expensive suit pants and shirt.
Of course she’d recognized Sebastian Montgomery’s name when his broker called to make the appointment. She couldn’t open her Internet home page without seeing the face of the media mogul and self-help guru. But she’d refused to let herself get worked up. Especially when his broker told her that Mr. Montgomery had a mild interest in her work after seeing the dragon. She’d figured he’d look at her junk and walk away like pretty much everyone else did.
Instead...the fabulously gorgeous billionaire had just written her an enormous check for a piece of her magnificent junk.
Was it possible that he had more money than sense? It wasn’t too great a stretch to assume that all filthy-rich people were a tiny bit off their rockers, was it?
His sleek black luxury vehicle, which sure as heck hadn’t come off any showroom floor because she’d never seen anything like it, was covered in dust from her dirt-and-gravel drive. And yet somehow, even after tromping through her dusty acre, his white dress shirt was pristine, his slacks were still perfectly creased, and his shoes had actually retained their shine. Lord if the man didn’t smell good too, like sun and long stretches of white sand beach. Whereas she was dressed in stained overalls, an ancient tank top, and filthy work boots. Not to mention her hair had to be sticking out every which way.
She hadn’t expected Sebastian to make her skin heat and her breath catch. And she definitely hadn’t expected him to write her a six-figure check.
“I guarantee it won’t bounce.”
Normally she would have laughed or made a joke. But she was holding on to ninety-nine thousand too many dollars to remember how to do either of those things. All she could remember was how to be honest. “I’m overwhelmed.”
True honesty, however, would be to admit that she wished she’d run a comb through her hair, put a little gloss on her lips, and swapped out the overalls and boots for a dress and heels. Even if the only fancy outfit she owned was as outdated as the house and in not much better shape. She’d never worried about her looks, but this man brought out a need in her to be, well, feminine.
And yet, even though she wasn’t looking at all pretty right then, somehow he managed to make her feel appreciated. Desired. All with just a look.
Oh God...she was way out of her depth.
But did she ever need that money. Desperately. And not for a new roof either. She knew she’d appeared casual, aloof even, when she’d assumed he’d offer her a few hundred dollars for a sculpture. But this kind of money was life-changing. In the best possible ways.
“No need to be overwhelmed,” he reassured her. “I know you can do this for me.”
Actually, she’d be doing it for her mother. With that much cash, Charlie could finally get her mom out of the substandard care facility in Fremont that was all Charlie could afford, and into the great facility in Los Gatos. The new retirement home had an entry fee that Charlie hadn’t had any hope of raising until Sebastian Montgomery walked into her life and literally handed her the chance to make her mother’s life better.
One hundred thousand would take care of the entry cost and pay for a few months. And if Charlie could keep up the fees for five years, then her mother would be guaranteed a room in the facility even if they ran out of money. It was a gamble, though, because if she couldn’t make the monthly payment, Charlie would lose the deposit along with having to move her mother again. But what if Sebastian Montgomery’s project were the beginning of everything, opening other doors that might lead her to the financial miracle she desperately needed?
So even if she was more than a little stunned by how much he seemed to like her sculptures—and though the idea of stepping into a glittering and glossy world like his for any length of time was daunting—Charlie knew she couldn’t blow it. Stuffing down the inner voice that said a world like Sebastian’s was beyond her, she said, “Scratch the overwhelmed part. When do I start?”
“I like your enthusiasm.”
When he grinned at her, it was impossible not to grin back. He was the best-looking man she’d ever set eyes on, the kind of guy who could turn a girl’s head, to use the old phrase.
Hers had turned the second she’d spotted him standing in the doorway of her studio.
“I’m sure you’ll want to see the space as soon as possible, so I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eleven and you can inspect the lobby in full sunlight.”
When he wanted something, he obviously didn’t waste any time. A part of her wanted to spend some time inventorying her junk in case something fit when she saw the fountain, but with the check practically burning a hole in her hand, she said, “Eleven sounds perfect.”
“We should talk about your workshop too.”
She could read the look in his too-sexy brown eyes; he thought she lived in a dump. She knew she should renovate the old garage, but she couldn’t waste money on something that worked, even if it wasn’t perfect. “I know the garage doesn’t look like much, but—”
“There’s a barn on my property in the Hayward Hills that I’ve never used. It’ll work great as a workshop for you, especially if you decide to construct something larger.”
A part of her resisted the idea of leaving the studio she’d always worked in. But she’d be stupid to turn down his offer for that reason. “I’d like to check it out first,” she said. “It’s opposite the commute, which is good. Although—” She looked over at her dusty old truck sitting by the garage. “I’m not so sure about my truck holding out for too many daily commutes.” These days it was practically held together by rubber bands.
“There’s a guest bungalow on my property. You can stay there and avoid driving back and forth.” He paused before adding, “Unless you have a husband or boyfriend who might object to my whisking you away.”
She’d had a few serious boyfriends. Serious, at least, until they’d eventually come clean about expecting her to do “normal” things like clean up the yard and throw out all the broken pieces of instruments and gates and tools that she’d so carefully collected over the years. At first a man might tell her she was a breath of fresh air. But in the end, it turned out that none of them actually appreciated all the mixed-up, jumbled pieces that made Charlie who she was any more than they appreciated the mixed-up, jumbled pieces that would become her sculptures.
“There’s no one to object to a little whisking.” She hoped he didn’t catch the slight edge to her voice. She was happy being alone, of course. But sometimes it still stung a little bit to know that she hadn’t been enough just the way she was for any of the guys she’d been serious with.
“Good.” Sebastian was clearly pleased to hear that she was single. Pleased enough that she had to wonder if the attraction she’d felt between them was more than just a figment of her overactive imagination. “Then the bungalow is yours to stay in and the RV barn is your studio.”
Every need a girl had, he provided an answer for. He made her want to throw caution to the winds, to just be reckless and say yes. Yes even to the things he didn’t say, but that she felt simmering between them as they negotiated the details of the commission.
There was something about him. Not just his over-the-top good looks or his self-possession and command, but the way her body reacted to his nearness and her skin overheated—and not from the hot afternoon. He made her heart beat faster and harder than usual. She’d never paid attention to a man’s smell, but Sebastian smelled incredible.
But as sorely tempted as she was by her reckless urges—and how badly she needed his hundred grand—she’d never respect herself if she just fell at his feet the way she guessed plenty of women already had. “How far from your house is this guest bungalow and workspace?”
He held her a moment with those deliciously cocoa-brown eyes. “Down the hill. Maybe a quarter of a mile.”
Okay, so the buildings weren’t exactly next door. Still, she could never take his money if it were tied to anything but her art. And there was only one way to know for sure. She had to ask the hard question. “You’re not expecting anything from me other than a sculpture, are you?”
“I’m expecting nothing more than the unexpected.” She appreciated the way he tossed the Zanti Misfits back at her. “The commission is yours. The house and the barn are there simply to make it easier for you. I’ll pay for all the materials you need as well. I want whatever it is you’re going to create for me and my building. Nothing else is expected.” He emphasized the word.
But anything can be given. She heard that loud and clear.
No question, this man had the charm to talk anyone into anything. He’d just dealt her all the good cards. She’d be closer to her mom’s nursing home, at least until she could get her moved. She wouldn’t have to fork out for materials—not that the stuff she got from junkyards cost a lot of money, but the tools were expensive—and she’d get to stay in a bungalow where the plumbing probably worked a heck of a lot better than hers. She’d have a huge workspace at her disposal. This commission could open doors for her so that she could actually be an earning artist.
Yet there was more. So much more, considering that she could actually feel the heat of his body and the touch of his eyes in the simmering sensation that flowed between them. Wanting him had seemed natural from the moment she’d seen him silhouetted in the sunlight outside her garage. And, if she wanted him for the summer weeks that they were near each other, something told her she could have some very sexy fun with this gorgeous man too. Charlie didn’t have weird hang-ups about sex, and she definitely didn’t have expectations anymore when it came to men ever appreciating her idiosyncrasies in the long run. If it happened with him, it happened.
She might decide to be reckless when it came to pleasure, but she’d make sure to be careful about letting herself fall in love with the beautiful man who had just changed her life.
Charlie folded the check and shoved it into the front pocket of her overalls, close to her heart. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
CHAPTER THREE
At eleven on the dot the next morning, Sebastian picked Charlie up in a limousine that quickly became covered in the dust of her yard. Rather than overalls and steel-toes, she’d chosen a pair of dark-wash, slim-fit jeans, a peasant blouse, and sandals. She’d been pleased to find one pair of jeans that didn’t sport burn holes from stray sparks off her arc welder.
Sebastian seemed to approve of her outfit as she slid in beside him and he said, “Good morning,” in a deep voice that was enough to raise her temperature several degrees, turning the air-conditioned interior of the car positively sultry.
“Nice ride,” she told him as she appreciated the soft leather with the slide of her palm over the seat. The limo was over the top, true, but he was a rich man and she could already tell that he did everything with style. And clearly enjoyed every second of it. “Although you didn’t have a driver with you yesterday, did you?”
“I didn’t want to split my attention between you and the road today.”
Her breath caught at the simple way he’d just told her that she mattered to him, both as an artist and as a woman. He always had just the right words. The fact that it was also his job didn’t make their impact any less.
“You’ve probably been working all morning and didn’t take the time to eat. So I brought you brunch.” He waved a hand over the spread he’d provided. “Bagels, cream cheese, and lox.” Sebastian tapped the coffee carafe. “And this is a special Arabian coffee imported by a friend of mine.”
She didn’t know which smelled better, him or the coffee. Both made her mouth water. He looked seriously scrumptious in another suit. She wasn’t necessarily partial to the executive type, but Sebastian Montgomery was rapidly changing her preferences on a lot of things.
“Sit back,” he told her as he poured her a cup of coffee. “I’ll serve you.”
A blush crept into her cheeks as she was instantly hit with an explicit image of him serving her breakfast in bed. He set her cup on the console, then slathered cream cheese on half of a sliced bagel, topped it with lox, and passed her the plate.
“You’re too good to be true.”
He fixed her with a gaze that was as sultry as she felt. “No. I am that good.”
“And cocky about it too.” She couldn’t hold back her smile—couldn’t see a reason to.
He laughed, and she felt the sound rumble through her. “So I’ve been told.”
A certain amount of cockiness was probably good in his business. And the truth was she didn’t find it at all unattractive. Not on him, anyway. Somehow, it only added to his charm.
She dumped a pile of sugar and cream into her cup, but he took his coffee black and didn’t make a bagel for himself. “Aren’t you eating?”
“Like I said, I want to concentrate on you.” When he sat back and asked her, “Why welding?” the full force of his concentration felt like a warm stroke of heat along her body. “From the research I’ve done, it’s not something a woman usually gets into.”
He’d done research? Only on her profession? Or had he tried to find out more about her too? “My dad was a welder by trade. I was an only kid and he didn’t have a son, so I was it.” She’d loved that father-daughter bonding in his workshop. “He was a patient teacher.”
“I’m sure you are too.” Sebastian caressed her with his gaze, moving from her eyes to her cheeks to her lips, as if he were memorizing every feature.
That, too, was part of his charm and his art of persuasion: total focus. “I love teaching,” she told him. “And I try to be patient. Although, I’m afraid I don’t always manage it.”
“Someone like you, with such a clear vision...” He smiled at her. “I’ve worked with artists before. I understand wanting things exactly the way you want them.”
He was talking about art, but the word want hung between them in the back of the limo, making her even more aware of just how close he was...and the fact that it would only take one small move for her to be on his lap.
And for his mouth to be beneath hers.
She’d told herself yesterday that she would be okay with starting something physical with Sebastian at some point. And he’d been clear about not expecting anything from her other than art. Nonetheless, her sculpture still had to come first so there would be no confusion at any point about his commission getting tangled up with hot, sweaty, yummy sex.
Considering they hadn’t even made it to the site yet, she deliberately put a halt to thoughts of getting naked with him. Instead, she talked about her dad. “My father worked on bridges, high-rises, mall projects. He did stuff in oil fields too, on the rigs. And pipelines. A lot of the pipeline work was in remote areas so he sometimes had to leave us for a while. I missed him when he was gone. But he missed us just as much.”
“He sounds like a great dad.” For a moment, Sebastian’s gaze seemed to turn inward, as if he were looking back into the past at his own relationship with his father. One that she sensed from the expression on his face might not have been the best in the world.
“Most of the time,” she said as he came back to her, “we moved with him. A lot of the projects he worked on could last for a year, so we didn’t stay in any one place for very long.”
“How did you feel about moving all the time and leaving your friends behind?”
Charlie didn’t mind his questions, not when he seemed genuinely interested in her answers. No man she’d ever been with had given her so much pure, concentrated attention. Being the center of such focus could quickly become addictive.
As addictive as she suspected being Sebastian’s lover would be.
“Sometimes it was freeing to start over, with everything new and fresh. But at the same time,” she found herself admitting, “I have no idea what it’s like to have friends I’ve known all my life.” Wanting to learn more about him too, she asked, “Did you move much?”
His eyebrows went up in surprise as if he’d expected her to know his story, probably because he was so famous that most people already did. “Born and raised in Chicago. I’ve known my friends since I was a kid. They’re like my brothers.”
She hadn’t given in to the urge to do a Google search on him last night, hadn’t let herself give in to any doubts about their new arrangement. Whatever she learned about Sebastian, she wanted to come straight from the man himself, and now that he was talking, she wanted more. “You all still see one another?”
“We have several business ventures together. We’re known as the Maverick Group.”
“But that’s business. What about spending time with them for fun?”
He looked a little surprised by her follow-up question, as if most people didn’t differentiate between personal ties and business ones. Likely, she thought, because most people wanted something from the sexy billionaire. The thing was, when it came to Sebastian Montgomery, she could see how complicated wanting could be.
She wanted to make the sculpture for his building. She also wanted him as a man.
Just how intertwined those things were going to get, she wasn’t sure. Something told her, however, that both could very likely end up being the biggest highs—and the greatest pleasures—of her life...
“We were all together in Chicago for July Fourth. It was a great time.” He grinned at her and said, “You would like everyone. And I’m sure they’d like you too.”
Again, pleasure suffused her at his words. He truly did know how to make a person feel special, just the way her father always had. “How many Mavericks are there?”
“Five. Evan, Will, Daniel, Matt, and me. Daniel’s parents, Susan and Bob, raised us, right along with Daniel and his little sister, from the time we were all about twelve or thirteen years old.”
“They must be very generous.”
“They are,” he answered with undisguised fondness. “Susan, Bob, and the Mavericks made me the man I am today. I owe them everything.”
There was nothing cocky about him now. The way he shared credit for his success was both humble and sweet. Even a billionaire, with all his money, needed a friend to unload with. Whereas Charlie’s only true confidante was her mom...and for the most part Charlie tried to shield her mother from the problems in the outside world. Francine Ballard had enough of her own problems to deal with.
“We’d do anything for each other. We’re all godfathers to Matt’s kid.” He smiled as he thought of the child, his beautiful face transforming yet again. “Noah’s a great little boy.”
By that look, she knew with perfect certainty that Sebastian was also a great godfather. She wanted to ask about his parents, since he hadn’t mentioned them, but before she could Sebastian said, “We’re almost there. What would you like to know about the building before we arrive?”
Wait...they were almost there? It felt as though five minutes had passed in the limo, not thirty. That’s what being the focus of Sebastian Montgomery’s attention did—made the outside world do a fadeout so that there was only him, his maleness, the deep timbre of his voice.
“Everything,” she replied. “Tell me everything.”
They both heard the sensual undertone beneath her question at the same moment. She’d always been curious, always been drawn to power. It was why she loved creating and delving deep into magnificent creatures like lions and dragons. But she’d never been drawn to anyone as much as she was to Sebastian. From the first moment, she’d been powerfully aware of him and had wanted to know, wanted to experience everything with him.
But for now, they each pretended it was all about his building as he said, “It’s an existing structure that I had gutted. There are all the necessities—a helicopter pad on the roof, a fully equipped gym and swimming pool on the tenth floor, and my production studio on the thirtieth.”
She almost laughed out loud at his definition of necessities. A helicopter pad had never quite made it on to her list.
“We’ve constructed a central lobby with escalators up to a mezzanine that overlooks the fountain. People will need to walk all the way around it to reach the elevators in the back. Everyone will see what you create from all possible angles.”
She was well aware that this was a big project he had hired her to do. Despite how easily he’d written her the check, she sensed that he wasn’t the kind of person who threw money away. Yet it wasn’t until this moment that she truly felt the awesome pressure that came with such a commission.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you how terrified I’m feeling, should I?”
He reached out and put a hand over hers. The touch sizzled through her, instantly shifting terror to something hot and hungry instead.
“You should always tell me what you’re feeling. Always. And you should also know that I have full faith and confidence that you can do the space justice. That’s why I chose you.”
The weight of his words—and his gaze—settled over her. It wasn’t that she doubted her abilities. She thought her creations were pretty cool. But this was a whole different level. One where plenty of other people would be seeing her art...and judging the way she took the crazy jumble of her vision and made all the pieces a reality.
“Expect the unexpected,” she reminded herself, saying what had become her mantra so many years ago almost under her breath.
“I always do,” he agreed with a smile. “And then I make sure I’m prepared to deal with whatever comes. Especially when the unexpected is more beautiful, intelligent, and captivating than I ever could have dreamed.”
Charlie’s head, her body, her heart were all still spinning as they pulled up to the curb. Sebastian opened the door and drew her out of the car, their hands linked. And as they stood on the sidewalk, closer now even than they’d been in the limo, the heat arcing between them was electric.
Explosive.
So explosive that she had to pull her hand away just to keep a little sanity. And remind herself that the commission needed to come first. Before all the hot sex she was dying to have with him.
She forced her gaze away from his to take in the immense skyscraper rising above them—and that was when her breath left her lungs for the second time that morning.
Windows reflected the surrounding buildings and the San Francisco Bay. High on the glass façade a monumental sign proclaimed to the world in huge blue letters that the building belonged to MMI. To Sebastian Montgomery, who was Montgomery Media International. A wooden construction barricade walled off the front while a covered walkway led to the entrance.
Inside lurked a completely different world. Traffic noise was hushed. At least three stories high, the lobby ceiling was made entirely of glass that grew up out of the floor at the front and curled over, allowing a wide strip of sunlight to pour down from between the surrounding buildings. Above them, the curved balustrade of the mezzanine provided an overlook. The floor appeared to be polished marble in varying shades of gray and black swirled through with cream. A broad belt of sunshine crept across the marble toward the huge circular fountain filling the lobby center. Charlie put a hand to her mouth, mesmerized as beams of light slid up the sides, and the fountain’s tiles seemed to glow with iridescent color—blues, greens, and reds, like a hummingbird in sunlight.
“It’s magnificent,” she whispered to Sebastian, wondering how on earth she could do it justice.
“I agree,” he said in the same hushed tone, but his gaze was on her, not the fountain. “Totally magnificent.”
