An Irresistible Bachelor (An Unforgettable Lady #2)(7)

A cold gust of wind shot down the street and he glanced in its direction. He’d tried calling Ms. Burke a number of times throughout the day, but hadn’t gotten so much as an answering machine. Since he was going back to Boston tomorrow, he’d figured his best shot at reaching the woman was to do a flyby in person, but it appeared, unless he was prepared to do a little breaking and entering, that he’d reached another dead end.

He tried the front door in case its lock, like so much else, was broken. When it held fast, he figured enough was enough.

He didn’t have any more time to waste. If she was so damn hard to find, it was her loss. Crumpling the paper in his hand, he started down the steps.

Just as he hit the sidewalk, a woman rounded the corner at the far end of the block. He was about to look away when he caught a flash of red hair and his breath left him in a cloud of mist. An image from the dream, of pale hands touching the skin of his stomach, brought him to a standstill.

Christ, he told himself, don’t think like that.

He watched as she moved between two parked cars and crossed the street, her head down as if she were deep in thought. It wasn’t until she was halfway to him that she lifted her eyes, caught sight of his limousine, and stopped dead in the middle of the road.

“Hello,” he called out, raising a hand. “You’re a hard lady to track down.”

She frowned and looked to the left and the right.

“Yes, you,” he said, smiling.

When she started walking again, it was much more slowly.

“What are you doing here?” she said.

He narrowed his eyes, taking in every detail of her. Her cheekbones and the tip of her nose were glowing bright red from the cold. Her hair, which fell past her shoulders, was being tossed around by the wind. Her blue eyes were regarding him with open suspicion.

She was as beautiful as he remembered and he had to wonder if her body was anything like what he’d dreamt of. He couldn’t make out anything under her enormous coat and he was surprised at what she was wearing. The thing was old and shaggy, a mottled brown tent that did nothing to accentuate her dramatic coloring or her curves.

“Well?” she prompted him. “Why are you here?”

He lifted an eyebrow. People didn’t tend to address him with annoyance in their voices.

“As I said before, I want you to conserve my painting.”

The cool glance she shot him wasn’t encouraging and he felt himself gearing up for a lively negotiation. Which was just fine with him. He loved a good barter, whether it was over a company, a stock position, or a piece of art. The tougher the battle, the sweeter the reward when he won.

She walked up the stone steps, not even looking at him as she passed. “I told you, I’m not interested.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he said sharply. “Considering the way you stared at that portrait.”

As she turned around, he knew she was itching to get rid of him, and her impatience made him want to pull up a chair and hang around for a while.

“I’m not right for the job.”

“Then you have a low opinion of your capabilities.”

“It has nothing to do with my skills.” She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

“Come on, you’re dying to work on that painting.”

She got out her keys and pivoted away again. “I’m not prepared to take the assignment. Thank you.”

She was putting her hand on the doorknob when he took the steps two at a time and reached out for her arm. The moment he touched her, he felt her stiffen through the sleeve of her coat.

“Let go of me. Please.”

As she refused to meet his eyes, he grew curious.

“Tell me, what have I done to earn this animosity?” He dropped his hand and threw her a smile.

“You show up uninvited on my doorstep,” she retorted. “I’ve told you no and you’re still standing here. You’re obviously prepared to pressure me into working for you for reasons that I can’t begin to guess at. Why should I welcome you cheerfully?”

“Are you always this wary?”

“When things don’t make sense to me, yes.”

“So how’s my offering you the job of a lifetime senseless?”

“Because I don’t believe in miracles.”

“Atheist?”

“Realist.”

Jack grinned. He liked her resistance, even more so because he could tell she wasn’t nearly as tough as she was pretending to be. Her face might have been composed but those eyes of hers were bouncing around, touching on his face, the top knot of his tie, the width of his shoulders.

“I think you can do the work.”

“Based on what? You must be a quick study because we’ve only met once before.”

“I’m considered to be pretty astute.”

Her head tilted to the side, as if she were waiting for him to prove it.

He shrugged. “I know you graduated at the top of your class, with highest honors, from NYU’s master’s program in conservation. That’s a damn good indicator of interest and aptitude. I know your professors liked you and thought you had talent and a willingness to work. I also understand you interned under Micheline Talbot and Peter Falcheck on some very complicated, high-profile projects.”

Her eyes skipped away to the front door of her building. She was no doubt eager to put those keys in her hand to good use. “How did you find out all that?”