An Irresistible Bachelor(24)

She noticed that he had the receiver tight against his ear and his free hand was cranked in a fist.

This, she thought, was the real Jack Walker.

Abruptly, his body tilted forward, as if he was actually standing in front of the person he was yelling at. "Look, I've got a half a dozen other deals going right now, so I only have two more words to spare on this one. Fuck. Him."



Callie jumped back as he slammed the phone down.

"God damn it." He raked his hand through his hair and wheeled around, grabbing something off his desk.

The moment he saw her, he cleared his throat. "Callie."

"Why don't I come back?"

"No." He let the paper fall out of his hand, watching it land on the desk. "No."

He put his hands on his hips and released a slow, deep breath. When he looked back up at her, the aggression was mostly gone.

"Let's go."

As he walked past her, she gave him plenty of space.

Leading the way to the garage, Jack was struggling to control his anger. Thanks to the financial muscle he had, most people didn't screw with him, but desperation and money could make fools out of almost anyone. If he was going to stay on top of his game, he needed to remember that happy little fact and not be so surprised when someone tried to do a nasty on him.

But hell, he'd done his homework on that deal, he'd dedicated resources, he'd expended time and thought. To discover at the tenth hour that he'd been lied to was a real insult. It had happened before and it would happen again, but that didn't mean he had to like getting served bullshit. And if his reaction had been hotter than usual, it was because he was frustrated that he or one of his people hadn't caught the problem sooner.

He looked at Callie, who was apparently fascinated by the grounds. Her eyes were focused anywhere but on him, making him feel like some kind of thug.

"I'm sorry you walked in on that."

He was rewarded with a quick glance. "I know you're a hard-core businessman and all, but it's hard to imagine what could be that upsetting."

"You ever stand to lose a hundred and twenty-five million dollars?"

Her eyes widened. "Ah, no."

"Well, that'll light a fire under you. Trust me."

They got to the garage and he opened the door for her.

"What exactly do you do?" she asked, going up first.

He struggled to answer the question while watching her hips shift from side to side.

"I invest in privately held companies in return for an interest in them. The profit is made when they go public."

"Is the Walker Fund a big deal? No offense, but finance isn't my field."

"When properly leveraged, I can command over ten billion dollars."

"Oh." She paused at the head of the stairs as if trying to come to terms with the number. When she looked up, she exclaimed, "This is wonderful!"

He lost the remnants of his anger as she put her toolbox down and walked around. There were windows on every side of the open space and the peaked roof stretched the ceiling upward to a shallow point. He'd had a long wooden table set up and had brought up a few different chairs for her to choose from. There were also a couch and a couple of side tables.



Her footsteps made a clicking sound across the glossy floor as she explored and he watched her with a greed that worried him.

"This is going to be just perfect," she said, looking outside. "Plenty of light."

"I'm glad you like it. When I had this space winterized last year, I put in a bathroom with a shower and there's also a stereo system hardwired into the walls."

"This is all so surprising," she said, running her hand absently across the table.

"What is?"

Her head jerked around as if she'd abruptly remembered she wasn't alone.

"Nothing." She faced him, all business. "I have a list of the equipment I need. Some of it I have to get before I can do any work on the painting at all."

"Fine. We can go to the MFA this morning."

She nodded and pointed to a set of double doors. "What's through there?"

"Just a closet." He walked over and opened it up.. Inside were four Rubbermaid bins and she seemed curious as she looked at them. "I believe the bottom two are stuffed with some needlepoint pillows my mother has no use for. The others are full of old family papers."