She’d just bet he practiced long and hard on his piercing stare. So many little kids to scare, so little time. Thin, short, and gray-haired, with lips that looked like they were perpetually pursed, Holgarth needed an Extreme Makeover to capture the now wizardy look.
Con joined her. “Look, Holgarth, Mandy and I have to know the rules. I don’t think we share the same vision for this place. Who’s in charge of what? And why can’t we talk to the owner?”
Holgarth looked down his long nose at both of them. This must be his you-are-dirt-beneath-my-platform-shoes stare. Amanda waited expectantly for his eyes to cross.
“The owner wishes to remain anonymous. He, she, or possibly it has put me in charge of seeing that the readying of the castle runs smoothly.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I can’t be bothered with minor details. Work things out between you.” Once again, he glanced at his watch. “I’m interviewing candidates to manage the castle. The owner wants three of them—heaven knows why—and insists they be ‘more than men.’ Do you know how hard it is to get any good help nowadays let alone find ones who are ‘more than men?’ ”
He offered a long-suffering sigh. “But I live to serve, so I’ll start interviewing. Oh, I have the key to your room. I’m so glad you chose to stay in the castle.” He searched beneath the folds of his robe.
Was he for real? Amanda hoped not. “What choice do I have? You wrote it into the contract.”
“A dedicated employee would always choose to be on call. Southeast tower, fourth floor. It’s the Sleeping Princess room. I’ll have someone get your luggage from your car and bring it up to you. The owner intends to rename all the rooms, but for now we must suffer. If you wish to purchase anything, Ms. Harcourt, you may charge it to the park.” He handed her a large old-fashioned-looking key. That would keep the bad guys out. Not.
Turning his back on them, he hurried away leaving Amanda with her mouth open ready to ask the first of her, oh say, five hundred questions.
Disbelieving, she turned to Con. “I don’t get it. Do you get it?” Amanda didn’t give him a chance to answer. “How can this work? We don’t even have the same tastes. In anything.” Well, maybe in one thing, but sexual compatibility wouldn’t help them agree on wall colors. She threw him a baleful glare. “I’m not even sure you have any taste. What kind of owner sits back and lets the employees engage in open warfare?”
“One with a sense of humor?” The beginning of a smile tipped up the corners of his expressive mouth. “By the way, do you have any idea why our mysterious owner chose you for the job?” Laying his arm across her shoulders, he guided her toward a door on the other side of the room. “I assumed the owner chose me because the Maguires have a reputable name in Galveston.”
Amanda’s breath escaped her in a small hiss at the unexpected touch of his arm. It had to be escaping steam, because she was definitely boiling on several levels. First off, she couldn’t use her decorating skills if a man who was in love with lime green was constantly undermining her.
Secondly, Con was still summer heat lightning and distant thunder on her sensual horizon. If she spent too much time with him, she might be flattened by the storm. The collateral damage could be ugly. It would be hard to ignore the erotic connection she’d always felt when he was near. And here she’d thought she would outgrow Conleth Maguire. Silly her.
She needed her anger. It was her shield. With it she could do her job and return to New York untouched. He’d dented her shield a little with his explanation of what happened ten years ago. But she could get mad again. He was attempting to interfere with her job. Yes, Conleth Maguire was the one man she couldn’t hook up with again. So she’d just stay mad at him.
“When Holgarth contacted my office in New York, he said my work had impressed the owner, and I had Galveston roots. He was big on the Galveston roots. Holgarth sweetened the pot by offering me an obscene amount to take the job and promising my work would be promoted in the national media. I’m still building my reputation, and I need all the exposure I can get.” She tried to unobtrusively slip from under Con’s arm, but it was a no-go. The weight and heat of him remained Super-Glued to her shoulders, a small reminder of the weight and heat of other parts of him. He’d be surprised to know how much she did remember about his body.
Con opened the door and led her to an elevator. “The castle has the prerequisite narrow winding stone steps, but I didn’t think you wanted to experience all that authenticity right now.” He waited for her to enter the elevator and then hit the button for the top floor of the tower.
When the elevator doors slid open, she burst out ahead of him and exhaled the breath she’d been holding all the way up. It was tough not to breathe for three hours. At least that’s how long the ride had seemed crowded into a tiny space with Con and his army of sensual weapons. His pheromone attack had failed because she’d stopped breathing, but sexual awareness had squeezed her into a corner while superheated memories attacked her in waves.
Each floor of the castle’s towers only had two rooms. Not much of a choice on this floor, Sleeping Princess or Brave Prince. Ugh. She was going to earn her money whipping this place into shape. Unlocking the Sleeping Princess door, she pushed it open and stepped inside. Behind her, she sensed Con waiting for her reaction.
She didn’t disappoint.
