“I’m not a cleaner.”
“You’re not a wedding planner, either.”
“Ouch! I’ll look at the spreadsheets, the contracts.”
“I don’t need that kind of help.” The finality in her voice told me now wasn’t the time to push things any further. If I wanted to make up for my behavior, the best thing to do would be to give her the help she’d asked for. “Unless you’re afraid of ruining your manicure, pretty boy.”
“Pretty boy?” I scratched the two-day-old scruff on my chin with my clipped fingernails. “And here I was going for the rugged look. My team of stylists won’t be happy. I should fire them.”
“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit—”
“But the highest form of intelligence.” I wanted to see her smile again. Wanted to see the way her face lit up and how the worry line between her eyebrows softened when she relaxed.
“You keep thinking that.”
I laughed. “There’s research to prove it.”
“If Oscar Wilde were alive, I’m sure he’d be thrilled about you quoting him in a drafty castle in Ireland.” She tried to fight the smile tugging at her lips, but she couldn’t stop the corners lifting. My stomach all but bottomed out at her happiness. In the space of two days, I’d witnessed her every emotion from anger to embarrassment to elation. All of which I’d been partly responsible for.
She cast a glance over her shoulder and nodded toward the basement stairs. “The supply closet’s behind the kitchen. Have fun.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Without looking back, I strolled toward the basement stairs. Later on, when we were alone, I’d see what other emotions I could coax from her.
Chapter Eleven
Tessa
With Keegan off gathering cleaning supplies, I touched my fingers to my lips. His kiss. His touch. His hands. Yesterday’s kiss had woken my snoozing hormones, but today’s kiss had molded those hormones into a lust monster that was now beating at my chest.
A shiver of anticipation worked its way around my nerve endings, linking them together until my entire body hummed. Maybe he wasn’t the arrogant jerk he pretended to be, but I didn’t need or particularly want the kind of help or advice he offered. What if he tried to bulldoze me and take over?
There was no denying he had many more years of experience in successful event planning than I did, but Archer and Violet’s wedding was my problem to solve. I had to prove to myself I could fix this and that Shane stealing my money along with my dignity wasn’t the end of the world. And besides, what if Keegan’s seducing me was part of his plan? Being made a fool of again wasn’t a risk I could take.
He reappeared, laden down with mops, brushes, buckets, and bottles of cleaning solution.
“Happy now?”
“If event planning doesn’t work out, you can always start your own cleaning business.” I focused my attention on his lips and held my breath. Would he kiss me again? Or would he do something more than kiss me? And did I want him to? I sighed inwardly. The answer to that was a big fat yes.
An aura of self-assurance surrounded him. Everything from the way he walked, to the way he held himself, to his cheeky dimpled smile were all designed to make me want to rip off my underwear. He was a man who knew what he wanted, and I hoped he wanted me. All of me.
He dropped everything to the floor, the crash booming around the foyer, and then toed a bucket filled with supplies my way.
“Time to get stuck in.”
I glanced at the bucket then toed it back toward him. “Start on the first floor.”
“I’m not doing this on my own.”
“I didn’t say you were. I’m going to strip—”
“That’s something to look forward to.”
I rolled my eyes. “Strip the beds. And when I’m done with them, I’m going to scrub and sweep the rooms. You need to dust and vacuum everything.”
Keegan’s face turned as white as the snow outside. “There’re cobwebs over a hundred years old in this place. The spiders have probably mutated into beasts.”
It seemed I’d inadvertently found Goliath’s weakness.
He grimaced. “What if there’s a nest with thousands of baby spiders waiting to pounce?”
“Seriously? You’ve read Harry Potter one too many times. I promise you Aragog and his colony of Acromantulas aren’t hiding in the attic waiting to eat you.” I could be nasty and insist he dust all the cobwebs and force him to face his phobia, or I could be nice… Relenting, I gave him a smile. “Fine, I’ll dust, but you’re in charge of the toilets.” I shuddered. “I can’t bring myself to clean them.”
“Too good for it?”
“You want to try your chances with the cobwebs, Spiderman?”
He shrugged. “Fair point.”
The phone in the front pocket of my jeans vibrated. I knew it was Barb texting before I even looked.
FaceTime call canceled again. Violet at a party. Kill me now. Where’s Brendan with the wine list and dog food?
Hopefully, Barb would stay in her room all day with Max and her friends Pinot and Noir. If she was out of the way for a while, Keegan and I would get a lot more achieved. I shot Brendan a text telling him the Queen requested an audience in her chambers.
My phone vibrated again. What was it this time? Only the text wasn’t from Barb. It was from a number I didn’t recognize. A cold shower of dread washed over me.
Not now. Please, God. Not now.
Miss me, babe? Hope all the wedding plans are falling into place. Keep your eyes open for a wolf dressed as a lamb. S.
What did he mean by that? My stomach twisted into a crown of barbed wire.
