Trystan questioned the wisdom of this, but he was fast learning from Isabeau that there were arenas of his life where it was prudent to ask for assistance. His younger sister stepped into view, willowy and shy, but sharp, in a way that came as a surprise because it was unexpected from such an unassuming source.
“Hello, Trystan. I see you made it home. I hope all’s going well with the consultant. She seemed nice at the wedding.”
“She is very effective and...” He hesitated over what was too mild a word to describe Isabeau, but over-the-top words weren’t his style and would generate more attention among his siblings than this call and his questions already would. “Yes, she is nice. Very nice. And that’s why I’m calling. I need your help.”
“Before we start, let’s be clear.” A small laugh accompanied Alayna’s raised hand. “I’m not going to take over your appearances.”
“That’s not why I’m calling.”
She crinkled her freckled nose. “You’re going to make me feel guilty about not helping, and I hate that.”
“Because it works. You’re a softie.”
“I don’t have the luxury of hiding from our hardheaded older siblings.” She toyed with her necklace, no doubt one of the crafts from her small business. “And really, you know I would make a mess of things.”
“You’re welcome here anytime.” Except now. He was hoping for time alone with Isabeau, which brought him back to the reason for his call. “I just need suggestions.”
“On what?”
“Things that will impress Isabeau Waters.”
A flash of interest sparked in her eyes. “Impress professionally or personally?”
He paused for only a second. “The latter.”
She dropped the necklace, suddenly becoming more serious. Focusing on him. “You’re kidding me.”
“Have I ever been a joker?”
“Not really...” She scrunched her forehead, studying him for a second before continuing, “Okay, then. Women are all different, so there’s no set gift or date that will appeal to all. My best advice? Listen to her. Really, really listen. You’ll find your clues.”
He shook his head. “You can’t seriously expect me to sift through that and make heads or tails of it.”
She shrugged, but didn’t cave. “I can’t do the hard work for you. Women are impressed by men who listen. Men who make an effort to understand them.”
His temples pinched with a new ache, but he supposed her advice made sense. “And, when I understand her, I’ll know what to do?”
“When you listen, you’ll discover her passions. The things that are special and important to her.” Alayna heaved a sigh, and he wondered if she’d given that speech to any other rock-headed men before.
Something about her tone shouted yes.
As he watched his sister sign off, Trystan wished women weren’t so damn enigmatic. Clues and a million different answers.
Except he also knew, he’d never been so drawn to a woman the way he was with Isabeau. Which meant...
Time to start searching for something as special and unique as the woman herself.
* * *
Isabeau was more than a little surprised by Trystan’s home.
Sure, she’d seen photos and done her research about how he’d participated in the building of his house—both literally and financially. But there was peace here in this place that no photos or descriptions could capture.
She could understand why he wouldn’t want to leave his private mountain retreat for the corporate grind.
Knees curled to her chest, she sat on her bed, sinking into the depths of the mattress. Outlines and ideas for press opportunities formed a semicircle around her. A pen passed between her fingertips as she examined a document for a satellite radio show. Paige yawned from across the room. She sat stretched on the white carpet in the abbreviated living space between the bed and the oak-framed fireplace. The dog’s corresponding chuff drew Isabeau’s eye from fine print to the lazy yellow Lab, and then, once she saw her dog was just sleeping, she soaked in the view.
The sun had already slipped behind the tree line, but her room seemed as dazzling as ever. Everything since she’d met Trystan felt like a dream. One she had to wake up from.
Burying herself back in the documents, she shifted files to the wooden chest at the foot of her bed. Then she paused for a moment to examine media outlets from both television and podcast, and considered the events that would put him in the public eye, from a state fair to a private power broker dinner. Chewing her pen cap, she almost didn’t hear the door creak open.
Instantly, the pen cap returned to a more normal, natural position on her thigh. Trystan.
Somehow, even though he leaned in the door frame in muted light, her heart pounded heavy and fast. Awareness ricocheted through her system. She remembered all too well the closeness she’d felt with him before.
Closeness she needed to forget and resist.
Waving a paper in her hand, she said, “You have an interview at a Juneau news outlet next week. I’ve outlined a list of subjects that could come up so we can talk through your answers.”
“I’ll tell them the truth.” His words, articulated as anticipated. The hard line.
Shaking her head, Isabeau flashed a small, corrective smile. “A polished truth that steers clear of reporter traps. You’re an intelligent man. I believe you’ll enjoy the challenge.”
“Was that a compliment?” He moved into the room, approaching her. Dark eyes inquisitive.
“It’s the truth, told with polish.” Stacking the papers into a neat pile, she wished he wasn’t so appealing all the time. It would make staying on track so much easier.
“Touché.” He took the papers and scanned them, shuffling through. “If you’ll email me the files, I’ll go through them and prep first thing in the morning. After that, I thought we could both use some relaxation, some settling-in time. Maybe it’ll give you more of those insights for crafting my image.”
Too many insights into this compelling man could be trouble for her considering her level of attraction.
What if she found out she liked him even more?
“What did you have
