Safe in the Tycoon's Arms (Harlequin Romance) by Jennifer Faye Page B

girl.”
    She frowned. “You actually had doubts about me being a girl?”
    “Not at all. You just struck me as being different from the other women I’ve known.”
    “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”
    “It’s neither.” He cleared his throat, looking exceedingly uncomfortable. “What if I throw in free room and board if you work for me?”
    The man certainly didn’t give up easily. “From what I’ve seen in the kitchen, I’d probably starve to death.”
    “You’ve got me there. But I have all of the local takeouts on speed dial. And...maybe I’ll entertain some of your design ideas.”
    She had to admit she was impressed, but she couldn’t spread herself too thin. She opened her mouth to turn him down...again.
    “No.” He held up his hand to silence her. “Don’t answer so quickly, because this will be my last offer and I can see the glint of temptation in your eyes.”
    On second thought, her serious consideration of his offer would give her license to browse around. She’d love to check out the closed-up rooms she hadn’t dared explore before. “Do you mind if I look around? To see what I’m getting myself into?”
    He waved his hand, granting her free passage. “Help yourself.”
    She jumped to her feet and hurried down the hallway. She noticed how he trailed her—so close that the scent of his spicy cologne wrapped around her. She paused in front of the double doors just off the foyer and glanced over her shoulder as though making sure he hadn’t changed his mind about her nosing around the place.
    “Go ahead.” His tone was reserved and a bit hesitant.
    She turned and pushed the doors open. This was her first glimpse of the living room and she was impressed by its sheer size. Her entire ranch house could fit in this one room with space to spare. And the ceilings were at least twelve feet high, giving the room a wide-open feel.
    But there was something not quite right. She scanned the area again, taking in the furniture. Though of high quality, it was too contemporary for the house. And the impressionistic artwork on the walls didn’t quite fit. A stately home such as this deserved to be decorated with items that exuded grace and elegance, not flash and fad.
    With no throw covers, everything was coated in heavy dust that tickled her nose and made her eyes water. Beneath the filth, the house looked as though the occupants had gotten up one morning, gone about their day but never returned.
    Throw pillows were haphazardly strewn about as though people had tossed them aside and forgotten to pick them up. Even a newspaper was spread across the glass coffee table, open to the sports page. Was that why Lucas lived like he did? Was he waiting for someone to return? A lost love?
    Kate recalled him mentioning an ex-wife. Was that it? Was he still grieving the loss of his marriage?
    A white-and-pink figurine caught her attention. Drawn to it, like a curious feline to a buzzing fly, she couldn’t stop herself from picking it up. It was of a mother holding her baby girl. Her fingers stroked over the smooth surface. The mother and child were smiling at each other as if they’d just spent a marvelous day together. It touched something deep inside Kate and had her frowning at the thought of never spending another carefree day with her daughter.
    “Put it down.”
    Kate jumped at the boom of Lucas’s voice. Her fingers tightened around the porcelain figurine to keep from dropping it. With the knick-knack safely returned to the dust-covered end table, she faced Lucas. “You know you’re going to have to learn to trust me or this will never work.”
    His expression transformed into one of contrition. “Sorry. I... Oh, never mind.”
    She noticed a deep sadness in his eyes and wondered what had put it there. But she knew it was none of her business. He probably didn’t want to talk about his past any more than she did.
    “The good news is from what I’ve seen of the downstairs, there’s no