By Private Invitation (21 page)

Groaning, Annabelle placed the pasta in the cart and headed for the meat and seafood
counter. Thankfully, the store had decent fresh seafood. “I’m in over my head, Kate.
He’s so far out of my league, I feel like he’s in the majors and I’m still in junior
high. I don’t want to fall for him. I can’t let myself.”

“And the harm in that would be…what?”

“He’s a playboy. Just like Gary.” After she placed her order for chicken and shrimp
with the teenage boy behind the counter, she turned back to Kate. “And I certainly
don’t need another one of those in my life.”

“Then what’s wrong with having a little fun while he’s here? It’s not like you’re
going to marry the man, right?”

“Of course not.”

Marriage and Jared Golden did not belong in the same sentence.
He’d said as much New Year’s Eve. And she had secrets to keep.

“So have a good time, enjoy the sex, and take the help with the business. And when
everyone sees what amazing furniture you find for the spa, you won’t need Carmen Moran’s
backing as an appraiser. You’ll be turning away clients.”

Annabelle took her packages and headed back to the produce aisle. She needed something
for dessert and the strawberries had looked good.

“But why did I invite him for dinner? It’s so…intimate.”

Kate’s smile turned apologetic. “Because you’re already gone?”

“I can’t be.” Annabelle shook her head, sighed, then let her smile inch out. “So what
am I going to wear tonight?”

“So here’s what I see.” Jared pushed a piece of graph paper across the table at her.
“You need to set yourself apart from the crowd.”

The dinner plates had been cleared, and the strawberry tartlets she’d made for dessert
sat in the center of the table along with the unopened bottle of wine Jared had brought.

“You need to come up with a distinct look that people will identify with you when
they come into the store. You need to organize your collection and present it in a
way that not only draws the customer in but makes it clear this isn’t your grandfather’s
store.”

Over dinner, they’d discussed the town, the economy, gas prices—anything but the shop.
She’d begun to wonder if Jared had an actual plan, though she had to admit she’d enjoyed
simply talking to the man. Articulate guys with a wry sense of humor completely did
it for her.

And one glance at Jared made her hotter than hell. No other way to put it.

He’d pulled a sheet of paper from the breast pocket of the crisp white shirt he wore,
unfolded it, and laid it on the table between them.

It looked like a floor plan for her shop but it was divided into distinct sections.

“Okay, that makes sense,” she said. “But I don’t think I understand your floor plan.”

He tapped his long fingers on the paper, and her mouth dried as she remembered exactly
what those fingers could do to her body. “I did some browsing up and down the strip
today and, with the exception of one shop, none of the stores were shopper friendly.
Frankly, they’re a mess. They’re cramped and hard to navigate. The lighting sucks.
Small pieces are stuffed inside big pieces, paintings sit on the floor, the display
cases are filled to overflowing. You don’t get a real sense of each piece. It’s just
a huge jumble.”

Intrigued, she tore her gaze away from his fingers and into his eyes, so blue she
swore they sparkled even in the dim light. “And your answer to that would be…”

“Rooms.”

She frowned. “You want me to put up walls in the shop, chop it up into smaller spaces?”

Shaking his head, he pointed to the floor plan, but she couldn’t take her eyes off
him. “No, I want you to create individual spaces without the walls. You have beautiful
pieces, Belle, but you need to display them in a more coherent setting. Put the beds
together, put a mattress on them, and dress them. Let people see each grouping as
it might look in their house.”

The man was absolutely gorgeous when he got passionate about
something, she realized. Of course, he didn’t need much help but add in his enthusiasm
and she needed a fan and new panties.

He seemed to have put a lot of thought into his ideas, which she was beginning to
visualize.

“You’ve got lots of dishware but they’re all stuck in boxes with one or two pieces
on display,” he continued. “Bring it out, set the tables. You’re going to have to
outlay some cash for linens and mattresses, maybe some rugs, but it shouldn’t be enough
to break you.”

Yes, she saw exactly what he was talking about now. Still, there were some drawbacks.
“What about the artwork?”

“Expand the gallery. Break into the back room you use for storage and combine the
spaces. Do you have somewhere else you can use for storage?”

A true art gallery. She’d wanted one for years but had never wanted to ask Granddad
for the space. He’d been much more interested in furniture and he’d already given
her one room for her erotic collection. And though he’d encouraged her to develop
her own tastes, there just hadn’t been enough room for her art.

She nodded slowly. “Actually, I do. I can use the basement for storage. Granddad had
a climate-control system put in when we first renovated the building, but it was a
hassle getting the big pieces up and down. He’d used it as a workshop for a while,
but not recently.”

“Then make it easier to access with an outside entrance and a ramp. You could back
the truck right up to it and transfer the furniture directly into the basement. Or
you might want to build another room off the back. You have the space on the lot.
I checked in at the borough offices today and made sure.”

Sinking back into the chair, she couldn’t believe he’d gone to
so much trouble for her. “I don’t know what to say, Jared. It sounds…wonderful.”

He sat back as well and grinned at her. “Hey, I told you I was good.”

And he knew it, too. But that confidence only added to his appeal. She returned his
smile even as she shook her head. “I never had much interest in the business end of
the shop. I’d rather be on the hunt for new material, though Granddad made sure I
knew everything I needed to know to take over.”

Jared refilled her wineglass and his then reached for a tartlet. “Tyler takes care
of most of the business. I’m the idea guy. I think them up and implement them. Tyler
finds the money to pay for it.”

“Like the spa.” She swallowed as he bit into the sweet. “I, ah, did some preliminary
searches for furniture and found a few things I’d like you to look at.”

He nodded, leaning farther back into the chair. “I set up a meeting with a local real
estate agent for tomorrow morning to see if there are any properties in the area that
might be suitable. You can show me the furniture tomorrow afternoon.”

“And you really think this area will sustain the kind of business you’re proposing?”

“I’m not looking for area residents to sustain it. I mean, I’ll be glad if they come
but I’m looking for this to be a destination. A place to get away from the fast pace
of the big city. More like a resort.”

Annabelle shook her head. “In Nowhere, Pennsylvania?”

“That will be part of the appeal. Middle of nowhere, no sirens, no helicopters. The
spa will be all inclusive. The restaurant will be open to the public and so will the
shops.”

“What kind of shops?”

“Nothing extensive. Boutiques. Clothing, accessories, makeup.”

“Lingerie?”

Jared’s brows lifted. “Interesting. Why?”

“Kate designs some of the most beautiful lingerie I’ve ever seen. And some of the
most exotic.” She was wearing one of Kate’s creations now. She’d worn it with the
plan of showing it to him later. “She’s never said anything about selling her designs
but it was just a thought.”

“And it’s a good one. Have you given any more thought to the rooms? How to decorate
them?”

Truthfully, not much because she’d spent most of her time thinking about him. “You
said something about making it a sensualist’s dream yesterday and that sparked some
ideas. I’ve been thinking about themed rooms, possibly picking a piece of art for
each room and building the theme around it.”

And now that she was thinking about it, she couldn’t stop. “Actually, let’s go downstairs
so I can show you a few ideas.”

Jared watched Belle’s gaze go unfocused as she stared at a spot just above his right
shoulder.

He recognized that look. Tyler got that look when he had an idea he was chewing over.
Usually a good idea.

Belle had completely dismissed him, her thoughts turned inward, as she rose from the
table and headed for the stairs to the first floor. He followed along, curious to
see what she wanted to show him. And he was completely enjoying the sway of her hips
encased in tight jeans and the brush of her flame-colored hair against her purple
sweater.

Though she wasn’t wearing anything overtly sexy, the jeans and sweater hugged every
luscious curve and made him lust for what he couldn’t see.

In the shop, she flipped a switch and the lights in her erotic gallery cut through
the dark. His cock gave a twitch as he remembered what they’d done the last time they
were in there.

He followed more slowly and when he reached the gallery, she stood with her hands
on her hips in front of a display case of shunga prints from the 1700s.

With a glance over her shoulder at him, she nodded toward the case. “How decadent
do you want to go?”

He contained a snort of laughter. That was not a question she should be asking him
because decadent was a word he took seriously. It was right up there with pleasure.

If he told her exactly how decadent he wanted to go with some of the rooms, he was
worried he might scare her off.

With a deliberate gait, he walked to the chaise they’d christened yesterday and sat
down, letting his legs stretch out in front of him as he propped himself on his arms.

Belle’s gaze narrowed but he heard the slight catch in her breath when he smiled up
at her. “How decadent can you make it without crossing the line into tasteless?”

“The shungas. Recreate some of the rooms depicted in the shungas from the wall coverings
to the floorings. The colors are beautiful and the mood is right. I’m not saying we
use the art itself in the rooms—”

“Why not use the art?” Jared started to see exactly where she was going with her idea
and he loved it. “The more tasteful ones, yes. But we could go all-out debauchery
with a few of the rooms. And why stop with the shungas?”

He looked at the two O’Malley pieces from the Passion series. He wanted those paintings
for his own collection but unlike everything else in the store, they didn’t have a
price tag. He wanted
to ask about them but didn’t want to ruin the mood. He’d ask later.

So he pointed to the prints of the Carracci series, The Loves of the Gods. “Why not
theme each room to a different painting?”

Belle turned to him, a small smile lighting her face. “I had thought of that, but
I didn’t know if you’d go for it. I mean, this is supposed to be a spa, right? Not
a high-end brothel?”

He laughed. “No, not a brothel. Most of the rooms will be merely opulent. But I love
your idea too much not to use it. And believe me, the crowd I’m targeting won’t bat
an eyelash at the décor.”

“So you’re going for the same crowd that you invite to the Salon?”

He shook his head. “The Salon is one of a kind and I only invite select people. I’m
not planning to branch out to the spa.”

Belle turned to face him now, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her head
to the side. “How
did
you come up with the idea for the Salon?”

He opened his mouth to give his answer. But he thought saying “Because I could” seemed
like a cop-out. Spending time with Belle was becoming more and more hazardous to the
façade he liked to cultivate with his friends and acquaintances.

And he’d have to examine that a little more closely. Later.

“The Salon actually had its beginnings my freshman year at college. A few friends
with similar tastes, a few bottles of whiskey, and late-night bitching about a mandatory
class in world cultures. The teacher was a bastard who delighted in tormenting freshmen.
We decided to dig for dirt on the guy and embarrass the hell out of him. We figured
there had to be something we could use against him.”

“Sounds like the plot of a John Hughes movie.”

He laughed, a completely natural sound he didn’t hear that often. “Anyway, I hit pay
dirt but it wasn’t what we expected. Turns out old Professor Kohn had a lucrative
side business as a writer and researcher for an underground Victorian erotica society.”

Belle came closer until finally she eased onto the cushion next to him. Then she turned
sideways until her back rested against the rolled armrest. Drawing her legs up, she
rested her chin on her knee.

“How did you find out? And what is that exactly?”

“I had a friend hack his private email accounts. We found his links to this society,
a private group like the Masons, but their organization met to discuss and reenact
scenes from Victorian erotica.”