I glance down to check how I look, glad I wore this flowing, spaghetti-strapped, full-length sundress today. I took a chance, but I know coral looks great against my skin and I wanted to be as…professional as possible.
Setting my bag on the counter I walk outside with care so as not to startle him. But that’s very hard to avoid when someone’s lost in a novel and think they’re alone.
“Hello,” I quietly call over.
He jumps and drops the book, hastily picking it up and dusting off the pages as he stammers, “I didn’t hear you arrive.”
“I see that. What are you reading?”
Holding it up he announces, “Outsystem by M.D. Cooper. Ever read it?”
“Sci-fi?”
“Yep,” he stands up and looks even more handsome as the sun traces his thick waves of salt and pepper hair. “I’m a trekkie. The early stuff, from when my dad was a kid. Star Trek Next Generation, not the really old one.”
Is he trying to make himself seem younger?
“I’m more of a supernatural lover. And romance. I love romance.”
Rolling his eyes in a friendly way, Tanner groans, “Of course you do.”
Grinning I cross my arms, “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” he shrugs, clearly lying.
“You rolled your eyes! I saw you!”
With a lopsided smile he closes his book, dog-earing the page to keep his place. Off my expression he holds his hand up, deep voice warning me. “It’s my book, I’ll bend the pages if I want to bend the pages. God, between you and my sister,” he grumbles, tucking it under his arm.
“You have a sister? What’s her name?”
“You don’t want to hear about my personal life.”
He couldn’t be more wrong.
I shrug in an effort not to scare him off. “Tell me anyway.”
He considers it a moment. “Another time perhaps. Let’s see this house. It looks promising.”
I failed to crack the seal of this enigmatic man, and it’s challenging to hide my disappointment. Turning to head inside I confess, “I figured you’d have explored it already, since you’re so early.”
“I needed your expertise for the inside scoop, Little Emma, so I waited.”
My shoulders bristle at the nickname and our eyes lock. “I’m a full grown woman, Mr. Hamilton.”
Laughter dances behind his stormy eyes. “Whatever you say.”
Annoyed I throw my fists on my hips, “Don’t placate me. I am a full grown woman!”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Are you going to stamp your feet when you say that the third time?”
I stare at him a beat, and crack up, despite my best efforts to stay severe. “I hadn’t planned on it, but I should!”
“Can’t wait to watch your breasts bounce when you do.”
My eyes widen. “Any other client and I’d…” I trail off as he flashes a genuine smile. “Oh,” I mutter. “I already slapped you.”
“You did. Pretty strong hit, too, if I recall. Want to try again?”
My head tips as I wonder aloud, “Did it turn you on when I did that?”
“A little,” he shrugs. “But I’m not into that kind of thing normally.”
“A woman putting you in your place?”
That same free laugh bursts out from him as it did the other day. I don’t think I’d ever tire of the sound. He walks past me to be the first to open the mansion’s back door, holding it for me to enter first. “You’re very refreshing, Emma. I haven’t laughed this much in years.”
Frowning I head inside but stop inches away from him, regarding him with open puzzlement. “You’ve laughed twice, Mr. Hamilton. That’s not a lot.”
His eyes darken as he acknowledges how sad that sounds. “It’s a lot for me.”
I surprise us both by hugging him. He doesn’t respond or hug me back. His arms are tense and L-shaped at our sides like he doesn’t know what to do. I hug him tighter and whisper, “You need to laugh more. Everybody needs laughter.”
I walk into the kitchen, pick up my bag and begin the tour.
CHAPTER 18
T ANNER
Every time Emma waits for me to ask a question about one of the rooms, I give my head a simple shake. Nothing big, just one gesture of no. She doesn’t push, and I suspect she knows how jarred I am by that compassionate embrace downstairs.
She does not call attention to it.
No man wants that.
Everything she says is business-as-usual, and none of the sexy flirtation we shared before is present today.
When it’s over I follow Emma to the door, my book tucked under my arm, hands clasped behind my back, chin dipped in thought as I ask, “Rather than see the other house we have scheduled, how would you like to grab some lunch? Have you eaten?”
Surprise flickers across her whiskey eyes, but a smile warms them instantly. She touches her stomach. “I’m starved. I came here right after church and even skipped donuts.” Her cheeks flush.
Did she skip them because she couldn’t eat, either? My room service sat untouched last night. I had coffee this morning but couldn’t take a bite out of my bagel and I normally have two.
I stare at her cheeks, hoping she never loses the ability to blush.
“I mean, I had the time wrong so I rushed over. But then on the way here…” She trails off, biting her lip.
“Hmmm. Me too. Had the time wrong, and that’s a lie and we both know it.” Her eyes widen. I hold the door for her. “Got that out of your system?” She walks out the door and doesn’t argue or answer. “Thank God,” I tease her, shutting it.
Narrowing an annoyed look at me, her shoulders straighten. “We’re taking my car.”
“What’s wrong with mine?”
“I like the wind in my hair.”
“Then why do you always tie it up?”
Throwing a saucy smile over her shoulder, she starts walking. “Because I like how glamorous it feels to shake it out like this.” Emma bends and flings her long, brown hair back like Rita Hayworth in the old black and white film, Gilda—just as alluring, only in color with sunlight beaming almost as brightly as her smile.
I
