Sweet Obsession: Windy City Kink, Book 1 (4 page)

She nodded and they walked back through his bedroom to the hall. “Are all four bedrooms decorated?” she asked.

“No.” His gut clenched. “No need to see them all. The only other rooms are the media room and my dojo.”

She didn’t seem overly impressed with the whole thing, but then, why would she? She’d grown up in a Barrington mansion, her father a hugely successful businessman in Chicago. None of this was anything new to her. He’d felt intimidated by the home she’d grown up in, and he’d always known her parents didn’t think he was good enough for her. He wasn’t bitter about that. Anymore.

She turned to him with eyebrows raised. “Dojo?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. I wanted a place to work out and practice my Aikido.”

She tipped her head. “What is that?”

“It’s a martial art. My Sensei from San Jose was here visiting just last week so he could see the dojo.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows rose. “You must be very close to him.”

“Yeah. I am.” He gave her a measured look. She had no idea how important Nozumo Sensei had been to him. “But that’s a story for another time.”

She nodded.

“Come and see the room,” he said, leading the way. He opened the door of the small workout room. She entered and took in the simple décor with a Japanese feel, the equipment neatly stored, the thick mats on the floor and a wall of mirrors.

“So that gives you an idea of what I like,” he said. “Let’s go sit down and talk more. I’ll make us some coffee.”

She nodded, blinking, clutching her purse.

In his kitchen, he gestured for her to take a seat on one of the stools at the long stretch of counter while he made coffee. Silence built around them. He knew she was looking around, and he could feel her agitation, all the questions building up inside her. Fuck. He didn’t want her to be scared of him. He had to tread carefully here.

He opened a cupboard and took out a package of cookies and slid some onto a plate. He glanced at her as he did so and her eyes widened when she saw the package. They were expensive cookies imported from France, and they’d been her favorite as a teenager. Back then, he’d gone to buy some for her and he’d been horrified to find out how expensive they were. For an eighteen-year-old kid with a part-time job that barely gave him enough money to take Sasha out on dates, spending that much on a package of fancy cookies had seemed obscene.

Her eyes flew up to meet his, and he kept his face neutral as he offered her a cookie. She hesitated then reached for one.

He poured coffee into a mug and added a splash of cream, then passed it to her. He could tell she noticed he’d given her the coffee just the way she liked it without even asking. He poured his own mug of black coffee and then leaned his elbows on the counter, bent at the waist.

“So,” he said. “Where do we start?”

She pressed her full lips together and dropped her gaze in a way that made him instantly aroused. He closed his own eyes briefly.

“I really don’t think I can do this,” she said quietly.

“You have to.” Once again their eyes met and he held her gaze steadily. “You have to,” he repeated softly. “I want you to do it.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed and she took a quick sip of her coffee. “I brought my iPad to show you my portfolio.” She shook her head. “You haven’t even seen it.”

“Show me. I’d love to see it.”

She pulled her tablet out of the big purse she’d been hanging onto as if it was a life preserver and she was floundering in the ocean. While she turned it on, he talked more. “I want it to feel like an outdoor room,” he continued. “With comfortable furniture. Lots of plants, obviously, although I have no idea what. Apparently you can even put trees on rooftops.” He smiled and shrugged. “Maybe a fireplace. Some kind of sound system for listening to music. I don’t know.”

Her eyes flickered again as she swiped her finger across the screen and pulled up some images.

“I’ll come around there,” he said and walked around the end of the counter to pull up a stool beside her. He leaned in closer to view the screen and the scent of her hair rose to his nostrils. It wasn’t a familiar scent. She obviously used different shampoo now than she had twelve years ago. But it was an alluring scent, a warm mix of vanilla and coconut. It filled his head and made him dizzy.

“This one has a dining area,” she said, her voice breathy. “Along with a cooking area. The grill is built-in with a refrigerator and sink. That was for a couple who love to do outdoor grilling. I’m not sure if you’re into that.” She swiped and more images appeared, showing a gorgeous outdoor space.

“I’m not that much into cooking,” he said. “Although an outdoor grill would be good. I don’t need a whole kitchen out there though. I like the pots.” He pointed to simple, square pots that held trees and shrubs.

“Here’s another one I did.” He took another breath of her scent as she talked, his body tightening.

“Oh wow. That’s awesome.” He studied the image of what looked like a wooden deck but with skyscrapers in the background. Wicker furniture with thick padded cushions created seating and dining areas, and flowers spilled from wooden planter boxes. “I like that furniture too.”

“I work with an outdoor furniture manufacturer,” she murmured. “So I get good prices and it’s very high quality.”

“Like I said, price doesn’t matter.”

He felt the fine trembling of her body as he spoke near her ear.

“This one also has a lily pond,” she noted.

“A pond. Huh. I like that. Is it much work to maintain?”

She shifted to glance at him. “If money’s no object, does that matter? You could hire someone to look after it. I offer landscaping services like lawn mowing, pruning trees and shrubs, weeding.”

He too moved so he could see her face. “Do you do that work yourself?” he asked with a frown.

The corners of her mouth lifted. “Not anymore. I did that when I was in college.”

His eyes narrowed. “Uh…why?” Her father was filthy rich. Why had she been cutting grass?

Her expression grew guarded. “I liked being outside. And I didn’t want to depend on my parents for everything.” She dragged her index finger across the screen again and changed the subject. “This one was a small space so we had to be economical with the design.”

“Holy crap.” He studied the stunning image displayed. “What is that?”

“Black bamboo, with some annual vines, lit from below.”

The night picture looked amazing. Maybe it was the vaguely Oriental feel that he liked. “I love that.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Lighting for night is really important.”

They went through more images, each impressing him more with her talent. Regardless of who she was, having her design his garden would not be a bad decision.

“I gather you don’t have any furniture that you plan to use out there,” she said as she shut down the tablet. “Any artwork? Pots for plants?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “I had a patio at my place in San Jose, but I left what I had there. It was nothing special. I wanted to start fresh here.”

She let out a long breath that sounded a little shaky and moved away from him.

“So when can you start?” he asked, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her hair, to see if it was as silky as he remembered, to touch her skin and see if it was as soft.

“I can’t.” She shoved her iPad back into her purse and slid off the stool. She picked up her purse. “I really can’t.”

“Just because it’s me?” he asked quietly, straightening.

“Yes.” She sighed. “Let’s be honest. This is weird and uncomfortable.”

He pursed his lips. “Not for me. I’m trying to hire the best landscape designer I know to do the job I want done.”

“Well, it’s uncomfortable for me. I’m sorry. I’m sure you can find someone else to design your garden.”

She headed toward the elevator, but when she arrived there she still couldn’t find the button to call it. Hiding a smile, he followed her and pressed the button for the lobby on the discreet keypad on the side of the doorframe. Maybe he could hold her prisoner there for a while, but that might not be the best idea right now. Also, it was slightly illegal and he didn’t want any more trouble with her parents.

The elevator door slid silently open and she stepped in and turned to face him. He braced one arm on the side of the door, holding it open with his other hand. “You’re even more beautiful now,” he said quietly to her. Her cheeks pinkened and her long eyelashes fluttered. “It’s been good to see you again. Would you at least think about taking this job? Take as much time as you want. If you’re busy, I can wait.”

“I’m not…” Her lips pressed together again and a faintly desperate look filled her eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you. Here.” He handed her one of his business cards, then stepped back and let the door slide shut.

She was gone. He stayed leaning against the wall for a long moment, then pushed off and wandered into his living room to stand in front of one of the windows, staring out without really seeing the cityscape spread before him. He couldn’t help but be disappointed. But then he really hadn’t expected anything more. At least she’d agreed to think about it. There was still hope.

Sasha leaned against the elevator wall, her legs weak and her entire body trembling. She clutched the glossy black business card in shaky fingers and her heart hammered, leaving her breathless. Oh. Dear. God. She pushed hair back off her hot face.

How could he still have such an effect on her after all these years? It was crazy. He was just a man.

Just
a man.
That
was crazy. A strained laugh rose in her throat. He was so handsome. Aggressively masculine. Sexually compelling.

Sasha walked almost blindly to where she’d parked her car on a nearby side street. Inside, she sat there for a moment, getting her bearings. Okay. She had work to do today. She needed to get to her office and focus on the tasks that needed to be done. She had to not think about Jack Grenville.

But that was not so easy. He’d invaded her head, taken over her thoughts, brought back all those swirling emotions from her teenage years. He made her insides tighten and her mind spin in useless circles.

She entered her small West Jackson Boulevard office and waved at Flo who was talking on the phone. She walked through the front reception area to her own office and dropped her purse on her desk. She covered her warm cheeks with her hands.

Jack.

She’d been so in love with him. She’d only been sixteen, and so many times she’d told herself that even if the disaster hadn’t happened, she and Jack would never have lasted forever. Teenage romances rarely led to lasting long-term relationships. But she could tell herself that a million times and it didn’t diminish the intensity of her feelings for him, and it seemed like those feelings had imprinted themselves as a permanent part of her psyche, something that would stay with her forever.

And yet, those feelings were also accompanied by a huge measure of shame and guilt. And even fear. She’d been nervous around him, alone in his condo.

She lowered herself into the black leather chair behind her desk.

She’d told him she’d think about taking that job, but they both knew she wasn’t going to. How could she?

Then her mind flip flopped on her and asked—why
couldn’t
she? He was nearly a stranger to her now. What had happened between them had been a long time ago and if they could both ignore it, she could have a job that would pay a lot of money. Which she really, really needed. But she had other jobs in the works. She had an appointment that afternoon to look at a residential job out in Lake Forest. They were also in the midst of a good-sized project that would bring in some money once it was completed, which should hopefully be soon. So she tried to put Jack’s proposition out of her head and focus on work.

The appointment out in Lake Forest went well, but they were also asking for proposals from a couple of other designers, so it wasn’t a done deal by any means. She went to check on the progress at another site, a small residential job landscaping the front yard, only to find that the nursery hadn’t delivered the bedding plants and shrubs that were supposed to be there today. That was followed by more phone calls, trying to find out what had happened and when the delivery would take place. By the time she got home that night it was nearly seven o’clock and her shoulders had knotted up. Tension climbed the back of her neck to her scalp and her temples throbbed.

She walked in to the delicious smell of garlic and oregano. Kevin was in the kitchen cooking, wearing a black sleeveless, full-skirted dress with a flowery apron over it. “Hey,” he said. “Just in time. I was about to eat without you.”

“New dress?” she asked, looking him over.

“Yeah. And shoes. Check them out. I found a pair of black kitten heels that were big enough.”

“Cute.”

Kevin’s cross-dressing had taken her aback when he’d told her about it. When he’d offered her the chance to move in with him and share the rent, he’d thought he owed it to her to be honest about that. She was mostly curious and they’d had a good conversation about it, and even though she didn’t totally get it, she’d accepted it as part of him. And when he told her how his parents had freaked out and kicked him out of the house when they’d discovered he liked to wear girls’ clothes sometimes, that was probably why she’d felt a connection with him.