To Catch A Bride. Renee Roszel
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bottom-line disappointment?”
Pal’s cynical remark coming so near her ear made her cry out. She jerked to glare at him. “You scared me!” She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand, not even slightly embarrassed that he’d seen her cry. Some things were simply worth crying over, and this superb mansion was one of them.
He shifted to lounge against the leather and draped an arm across the back of her seat. “I thought you knew I was here,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “I’m sorry.”
If she’d ever heard a you’re-a-pain-in-the-neck anti-apology, that was it. She bounced around, presenting her back to him and focusing on the house. Her hands trembling with anger, she busily straightened her suit jacket and finger-combed her hair.
“You really should be sorry, you know!” She spun back to glower at him. “And to answer your question, no. The house is not a disappointment. It’s wonderful. I’m deeply moved that Mr. Varos wants me to refurbish it. There’s such innate beauty, such graceful transcendency. With the right creative hand, the right artistic eye, Mr. Varos’s home could become a work of art.”
He lifted his chin, a clear indication his attention had moved in the direction of the house, somewhere behind and above her. She gave him a hard, offended look. Why was she bothering to explain? He wasn’t listening. Besides, this insensitive part-time-chauffeur-handyman-all-round-disagreeable-underling couldn’t possibly understand how aesthetics could stir the receptive spirit.
“Oh—never mind.” Shaking her head, she indicated the rear of the car. “If you’ll pop the trunk, I’ll get my bags. I wouldn’t want to keep you.”
“I’ll get your bags, miss.”
This new male voice came from behind and slightly above her. She jerked around. A trim, white-haired man in black stood midway down the brick staircase that led to the arched entry. The servant wore white gloves and a reserved, yet welcoming, smile. Kalli heard a click as the car trunk popped open.
Without waiting for further evidence of permission to retrieve her bags, the man descended the steps and headed to the rear of the car. Kalli pushed open her door and got out, only partly in a desire to help with her bags. One unruly portion of her brain had an urge to turn and gaze just once more at—well, it was a stupid urge, and she fought it by leaping from the convertible.
As she shut the car door, another man emerged from the shadows of the wide, covered porch. This new arrival was tall and thin, wore a dark suit, green-and-navy striped tie, and carried a black leather briefcase. His long, pale face and receding hairline seemed familiar. Kalli paused to scrutinize him, digging into her memory. When his glance shifted to meet hers, he came to a dead stop, his eyes going wide. That was it! That startled doe look told her exactly were she’d seen him before. She gasped, wagging an accusing finger at him. “But you said you wouldn’t be here!”
She didn’t like the panic in her voice. She’d meant to sound stern, all business. She noticed her finger, still wagging in his direction. It looked so moronic, she dropped her hand to her side, struggling to keep her lower lip from trembling. She felt rotten about what she’d done to Mr. Varos, and she was still acting badly. Working to regain her poise, she made herself breathe evenly.
“I—I’m just leaving.” The man she’d jilted walked down the remainder of the steps to the brick driveway.
Kalli felt wretched. How could she have shouted, especially considering he’d offered her this wonderful job? She hurried over to him and took his free hand in both of hers. “Oh, Mr. Varos, you must think I’m an ungrateful shrew.” She pumped his cool, limp fingers. “Thank you so much for this chance. I’ll do my very, very utmost to make your home the showpiece it deserves to be. I’m thrilled to be here. You’re too kind, and I’ll never, ever forget—”
“Miss Angelis,” Pal cut in. “If you’ll kindly release my assistant, he’s on a tight schedule.”
Kalli stopped pumping and opened her mouth to ask Pal what he was babbling about, but he’d turned to the pale man whose hand she clutched. “Charles, I left the Magnason contracts on my desk. Express mail them this afternoon. Then drive the Boxster to the garage. It needs to be detailed.”
“Yes, sir.” The pale man’s gaze darted from Kalli to Pal and back to Kalli.
Pal held out the car keys but when they weren’t immediately retrieved, he frowned, pointedly staring down at the pallid hand Kalli gripped with all her strength. “Don’t cut off his circulation, Miss Angelis. Charles needs those fingers. He types one hundred words a minute.”
Pal lifted away his sunglasses to reveal darkly fringed eyes the color of smoke. Those eyes captured her gaze and her breath. Without looking away, he signaled the butler. “Take Miss Angelis’ bags inside, Belkin. She’s thrilled to be here.”
Those lips Kalli had found disturbingly sensuous curled in a wicked grin and he winked, the most brazen, most calculated act she’d ever seen. Her reaction was just short of apoplexy.
“What—what’s going on here?” she asked in a fragile whisper. “Isn’t this…” She jerked to stare accusingly at the pale man whose hand she held. “But—aren’t you…?”
“No, ma’am. I’m Charles Early.” He made a sickly effort to smile. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“But—but…” Horrified, she gaped at Pal. The truth trying to seep into her brain was too terrible to contemplate. “But you can’t be…”
He bowed his head slightly, as though being introduced at a formal gathering. “Nikolos Varos, at your service.” Slipping the convertible’s keys into Charles’s coat pocket, Niko kept her gaze locked with his, his grin crooked. “It’s my pleasure to meet you—at last.”
Even in her dazed stupor, Kalli was hit between the eyes with his brazen insolence. He’d made a fool of her and he loved it. As far as Nikolos Varos was concerned, their alliance was so completely opposite from a pleasure, she could feel the antagonism pulsating through her as surely and painfully as if she were standing on a downed electric cable. He didn’t like her, didn’t want to be in the same state with her. So why…
He took her arm, short-circuiting her thought processes. “Allow me to show you to your room.”
Groping around in her brain for balance and sanity, she belatedly managed to yank from his hold. “You promised you wouldn’t be here!”
Niko stood a step below her, but she still had to look up to scan his expression. “Actually,” he corrected, “Charles said he wouldn’t be here.” One dark brow rose as he observed her, his smile gone. “More to the point, you promised to marry me. Why are you still Miss Angelis?”
The blunt rebuke broadsided Kalli. She felt dizzy and she couldn’t catch her breath. This wouldn’t work. She couldn’t be here, couldn’t stay. Suddenly ice-cold, she hugged herself. “This is impossible, Mr. Varos,” she whispered. Her ex-fiancé might not have a broken heart because of her rejection, but his bloodthirsty streak was all too real. “Under the circumstances, I—I can’t stay.”
Niko’s brow furrowed for an instant, then his features became unreadable. “It’s your decision, of course,” he said in that rough-sexy drawl. “Most people in your profession would endure hell on earth to get a prestigious opportunity like this.” He indicated the house. “Look at it again, Miss Angelis. Tell me I’m wrong.”
She didn’t have to look. She knew he was right. In all her experience she’d never seen a more spectacular example of the American Victorian style. With proper refurbishing, the grand edifice could be a masterpiece of the period. How many people got the chance to help create a masterpiece?
Her sense of loss was like a molten steel weight in her belly and she had to fight to keep from bursting into tears. She shook her head, befuddled and stupid. She wished she could be anywhere else, but she knew her cowardly behavior toward Mr. Varos had to end. Choking back a sob, she resolutely met his gaze.