Linda Conrad – Reflected Pleasures (страница 2)

Damned man couldn’t even bother to ask? Merri backed up and sat down as ordered, waiting for him to finish his phone conversation. As she sat, she took the pose of supposedly inspecting her unpolished fingernails. But she was surreptitiously studying her new boss from behind her thick, fake glasses.

And he was definitely the picture of masculinity, she could see that quite clearly. Tight, well-worn jeans, sleeves rolled halfway up muscular arms and intelligent but slightly dangerous blue eyes. Whew. A smidgen of heat budded deep in her gut, but she tried to ignore it.

She’d been in his office many times without him over the last two days, learning the surroundings of her new job and getting accustomed to the names on the Foundation’s many donor files. That part of her job would be easy enough.

But his attorney had also asked for her special help “civilizing” Tyson Steele. She hadn’t originally thought that would be a big part of her job—Steele was a well-known billionaire after all. However, Mr. Jarvis was convinced that his client needed some major polish.

He’d said that since Merri came from sophisticated L.A. and seemed professional, perhaps she could encourage Ty to drop some of his Texas cowboy image. Apparently, Merri would never entirely be rid of her damned boarding school background—no matter how hard she’d tried to disguise herself.

She had reluctantly agreed to Mr. Jarvis’s suggestion, thinking her new boss must be some kind of ogre. But now all of a sudden Tyson Steele was here in the flesh. And instead of trying to think of how to change him, his presence made her feel too warm and the room suddenly felt too closed-in to breathe.

He hung up the phone and reached for the coffee mug. “Mmm. Steaming and strong.” He took a swig and made a face. “Yeah, just like always. Strong enough to stand by itself and hot enough to melt the plastic off the cup. Those are the only good things about the coffee here.”

“Maybe you should enter the twenty-first century and buy a decent coffeemaker?” Damn. She’d managed to make a smart remark after all. Keep your mouth shut, Merri.

Tyson Steele narrowed his eyes at her, but he made no comment. He set the mug back down on the desk and picked up a stack of papers. “Now then, Miss…” Hesitating over her name, he glanced up and pinned her with another hard glare.

Oh, man. She didn’t like her body noticing what he did to the atmosphere in the room. What was up with that? She’d thought that it had been steamy in here before he turned those piercing blue eyes her way.

“Davis,” she supplied quickly to fill up the dangerous silence. “But please call me Merri, Mr. Steele.” Feeling the sweat beginning to form at her temples, she ran a hand over her hair and tried to breathe quietly through her nose.

Merri didn’t want to give her true self away. If she either told him to shove it—or did what her body wanted and flirted with him—he might figure out her charade.

And if he caught her in the lie, she had no doubt he wouldn’t hesitate a second to pick up the phone and give her whereabouts over to the tabloids. A shiver ran down her spine at just the thought of having to face those horrible paparazzi bastards right now. Then not only would her own new life be ruined, but she would never be able to help Steele’s orphans or his foundation at all.

“Merri, then,” he said casually. “And you can call me Ty. Most everyone does. Except maybe my aunt Jewel, who always uses Tyson…unless she’s mad enough to call me by my full name, Tyson Adams Steele. That’s when I know it’s time to disappear.”

His face relaxed into a wide grin and Merri felt her whole body jump in response. Sonofa… She’d been hit on and propositioned by some of the wealthiest and most beautiful men in the universe. And she hadn’t been interested or tempted by any of them.

So why was it that gruff Tyson Steele had been just a rather interesting man—right up until he laid that smile on her?

She’d been doing a credible job of ignoring his long, lean body encased in jeans and beat-up work boots. But there was no way to ignore that grin. It ran electric currents along her skin and shot hot, wet bullets of sensitivity down her spine.

“Your aunt is Jewel Adams?” Merri managed to sound steady and more in charge of her senses than she felt. “She’s my new landlady.”

Ty cocked his head and studied her for the first time. “You rented that old broken-down cottage on Jackson Street from Jewel? She was my mother’s sister and she raised me after my parents were killed.”

“You’re an orphan?” Her heart had taken a little detour all of a sudden.

“I don’t think of it that way anymore,” he growled. “You may have noticed that I’m all grown up now.” His face held a scowl but his eyes were laughing at her. Oh, man.

He had to know the effect he was having on her. With eyes that startling periwinkle blue color, women just had to fall all over themselves to get him to pay attention—even if his outward clothing left something to be desired.

It wouldn’t be possible for him not to know what that sexy look could do—was doing—to her. She had to find some steady ground here. Her whole future in this town depended on it.

“The house might be old but it’s not really broken-down,” Merri told him with a croaky voice. “Someone has recently remodeled the inside. It’s quite cozy.” There. Didn’t she sound just like she was in charge of the situation and in control of her own bodily responses?

“Jewel painted it and refinished the wood floors,” he agreed. “But the roof still leaks, the plumbing is shaky and the electric needs a total overhaul. I was going to help her out with the heavy work, but I haven’t had time.”

“Oh. I’m sure it will be fine. It’s all I could afford until I can save up some money from this job,” she lied. Money was not a problem. But she wanted desperately to make her own way for once, and make it in a small and completely plain way at that.

“I’ve already put in a few personal touches,” she added. “It’s beginning to feel like home.” Well, maybe not exactly like any of her parents’ many homes. Thirty-room mansions didn’t usually qualify as cozy. And not one of them had ever felt like her home.

But Merri was determined to start a new life without any of the pretensions of all that wealth. She was ready for a home to call her own and for honest contacts with real live human beings. She’d turned her back for good on fictional family life and plastic feelings.

So why did she have to be drooling over the one man who could end it all with just one phone call? Why was he so different?

Okay, so he was probably the most real man she’d ever come across in her whole life. There was not one single thing about Tyson Steele that was plastic or phony. But she simply had to remember that the man was her boss, and she had no business thinking about him in any other way.

“Yeah?” he said with a half smile. “Well, it won’t seem so homey when the rain starts falling into the kitchen or the septic tank backs up.” Ty stood and stepped away from his desk. “Tell you what. If you can honestly help take the responsibility of fund-raising off my shoulders, I’ll spend the extra time fixing up that old cottage.”

“You wouldn’t hire it done? I mean, you’d do it yourself…with real hammers and tools and stuff? Don’t you have other businesses to run?”

He really chuckled this time and moved to the credenza. “Yes, I’d do it with real tools and stuff. Most of my other ventures run quite well without me now. I have excellent help. I only need to check up on them occasionally. That’s why I’ve had the time to devote to getting this charitable foundation up and running.”

Hesitating, he picked up a stack of pre-opened letters before he continued. “Fixing up old properties for resale was the way I made my first million. And I still like to be pretty hands-on when it comes to residential real estate. It relaxes me. Besides, I promised my aunt I’d help.”

Ty frowned down at the letters in his hand. “But as good as I am with tools and stuff, I’m absolutely terrible at acknowledging donations.”

He looked up then, staring at her as if trying to judge her capabilities. “The Lost Children Foundation is one of the most important things in my life, Merri. I’ve made more money in real estate and oil than fifty people could spend over a lifetime, but it will all be a waste if I can’t make a difference in abused or exploited children’s lives.”

She saw the honesty shining in his eyes, and suddenly noticed something else that looked a lot like pain buried deep within them, too. And her heart skipped another beat.

“Your foundation has already saved children…made a difference,” she said softly. “Mr. Jarvis, your attorney, explained it all when he hired me. What you’ve done, all that you’ve built for children. It’s quite impressive.”

Ty continued to stare at her for a moment, then nodded once and shoved the thick stack of letters into her hands. “Yes, well… Frank Jarvis told me you had some experience in nonprofit development. I hope that means you know how to send out thank-you letters, because a few of these donation letters date from six months ago.”