Jane Sullivan - Risky Business

As she reached her bedroom door, he called out to her. “Don’t you want to know what I was doing in Denver?”

She stopped, then slowly turned, eyeing him suspiciously.

“There’s a hotel not too far from where you work,” he said. “The Fairfax. They’re tearing it down.”

Her eyebrows flew up. “They’re what?”

“Tearing it down. Every brick, every chandelier, every doorknob, every strip of oak flooring—”

“But I love that hotel! I have lunch there at least once a week. Why don’t they just renovate it?”

“Because a new high-rise is going up in its place.”

She stepped back toward him. “But how can they tear down such a wonderful old building?”

“With a few well-placed explosives.”

“But all that history will be gone!”

“Not all of it. I’m bidding for the right to salvage the interior of the hotel.”

Rachel’s eyes lit up. “Oh! That’s right! You do restoration! Can you use all those fixtures somewhere else?”

“Absolutely. I’ve got one project I’m working on now in San Antonio of the same vintage, and another one is coming up. I’ll do something with all of the salvaged items eventually, or piece them out to other renovators who can put them to good use.”

“I guess it’s not the same as leaving the hotel standing, but at least you’ll be saving parts of it, right?”

There it was. That smile. That animated expression. That look of sheer radiance when she talked about anything connected to history. For the first time since he’d walked into her office this afternoon, he saw a glimmer of the woman he’d met that warm, sunny afternoon in San Antonio.

“That’s better,” he said.

“What?”

“You’re smiling. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten how.”

She looked flustered and turned away.

“Don’t stop now,” he said.

“Jack—”

“History. You love it. We talked nonstop about it that day, remember? And the hotel we stayed in. That was a piece of history all by itself, wasn’t it?”

“I—I have to go to bed.”

He nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She looked at him suspiciously.

“Don’t worry, Rachel. As much as I’d like to join you, I’m not going to force my way into your bedroom.”

She seemed totally unconvinced of that. “You’re not?”

“No. Tonight I’ll just settle for the smile.”

She looked flustered all over again. She turned and disappeared into her bedroom, clicking the door shut behind her.

He found it amazing that a woman of her obvious professional capability could be so rattled by a tiny compliment. There was so much contradiction in her that he could probably take a year out of his life and still not figure it all out. Still, he had a feeling that it would be a year well spent.

She could try to fool him. She could wrap herself in that god-awful robe, or in wool from head to toe, put every hair in place and surround herself with hideous decor, but still he knew the truth. A passionate woman lurked beneath that cool surface, and he had exactly four days to get her to come out. And once she did, he’d never let her hide herself away again.

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