Sweetheart Bride. Lenora Worth
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bottom of the stairs. “Make it beautiful for me.”
Brenna did a slow swallow to get her breath under control. She got the distinct feeling this man didn’t give anything easily. “I will,” she said on a meek but firm tone. “And if I make everything else I choose beautiful for you, will that be a good thing?”
He put his hand on her back and urged her up the stairs. “That will be a very good thing. This house is the biggest renovation of my career. It’s a make-or-break deal.”
She whirled, one step above him, and stared down into his dark, rich-chocolate eyes. “And you picked me to help out. Are you loony?”
His eyes went even darker. “I’ve been called loco, sí.”
Brenna didn’t think the man was crazy. No, rather she decided she was the loony one. Her impulsive nature always got her into trouble, but her sensible side usually tugged her back to earth. And even though she was standing on a centuries-old staircase looking down at a man who most certainly would make any woman swoon, no matter the time or place, she held herself aloof and told herself to snap out of it. She was here for a job not a new boyfriend.
“I’ve been called that, too,” she said before turning away again. “We should get along just fine.”
He did that growling thing. “Take a right on the landing.”
“What are we looking at now?” she asked, afraid to glance back at him because she could feel the heat of his gaze following her. No, stalking her like a big cat out in the swamp.
He made it to the landing and looked around the wide, empty hallway. “This floor contains four bedrooms and baths for each. The baths were installed much later after the house was built, of course. We’ve finished the basic renovations, but we still have a lot of work to do up here. We enlarged the baths and the closets and made sure the structure is sound as far as wiring and knocking down walls. But your job is to pick one piece of interesting art for each room, especially the master bedroom.”
“I’m on it,” Brenna said, scribbling notes while she tried to ignore his sultry accent and his growling explanations. “Does your...mysterious owner have any preferences?”
“He has a few, but in this case, he told me to surprise him.”
“Surprise. That’s a new one. I like a good challenge.” Brenna thought about that, then whirled. “Are you the owner, Nicholas?”
He backed away, hands out and pushing toward her. “I am not and that is the truth.” He tugged her into a gigantic room with two sets of exquisite bay windows—obviously this was the master suite. “You see that trailer down there?”
Brenna nodded, ignoring the panoramic view of the Big Fleur Bayou and the bay out beyond for now. “Nice, but not quite as big as the house.”
“That is my home,” he said. “I renovate and design houses. But I prefer spending most of my time in my trailer or in a small hacienda on my parents’ property in San Antonio. So I need you to understand—this is not my house. I have no desire to live here. I’m only here to prepare this estate for the new owner and then I’ll move on to my next project.”
She believed him. Nicholas didn’t want to settle down. She got the message loud and clear. So she put aside her shock and awe and disappointment, then tried to throw him off by asking about the real owner. “Got it. You like to travel light and linger not so much. So back to the man who hired you. When will he arrive?”
He looked relieved and a bit shocked himself. “In the spring of next year. So we need to get busy.”
He motioned to her with an impatient jabbing of his fingers in the air. Brenna turned away from the view outside to the reality of the man by her side. “Okay, so you’re not the mysterious owner and you’re not teasing me or trying to pull one over on me. I get that. So show me the rest of the house and give me the interior designer’s phone number. I’ll have to get with her and make sure I have a clear understanding of what she has planned.”
He seemed to relax. Like a big cat, he’d almost pounced on her for being so nosy. But he’d pulled back, slinking away before he revealed anything too personal. “The designer knows she is to work with you in considering the art. Whatever you decide, she will work around it. Or make it work, per my instructions.”
He once again reminded her of his authority.
But Brenna was known for always having the last word. “And just so we’re clear, I’m only curious about the owner because I need to match the art to the person who will live here. But I have to say, Nick, you are every bit as mysterious as he-who-shall-not-be-mentioned-again. I’m sorry if I overstepped in being nosy. It’s one of my flaws.”
His dark eyebrows lifted. “Just one? You mean you have more?”
She saw that trace of a smile trying to pull at his lips. Saw that and so much that he didn’t want her to see.
He didn’t want to talk about the man who had bought Fleur House. But he especially didn’t want to talk about himself, either. Which only made Brenna more curious.
* * *
Two hours later, Brenna waved goodbye to Nick and headed straight into town to her sister Alma’s café. She needed comfort food and she needed some girl talk with Alma’s right-hand woman and newly promoted manager, Winnie. And just to be sure, she called Callie, too. “I need to rant. Preferably over pie and coffee.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear all the details,” Callie said. “I’ll put Thelma at the front register and I’ll be right over.”
Brenna was about to disconnect but then she remembered. “Oh, Callie, Nick said he wants you to be in charge of all the landscaping once the house is done.”
“Really?” Her sister squealed so loud Brenna had to hold her cell phone away. “I wanted to offer, but I chickened out and never applied. I dreamed about doing that, but I can’t believe he actually asked for me. You didn’t force him, did you?”
Brenna got an image of trying to force Nick Santiago into doing anything. Impossible. “Oh, no. He’s not the kind to bend to the whims of a woman. He asked for you outright.”
A brief memory of Nick telling her to make the mural beautiful fluttered through her mind. Okay, maybe he did bend to the whims of a woman every now and then.
Callie chatted on, excitement in every word. “Okay. I won’t say anything until he brings it up. But I’ll start playing with some garden designs. I know the layout of that acreage by heart, anyway.”
“Yes, you’ve always wanted to live there and you’ve dreamed of cultivating that big garden. I know, I know. And after seeing the house, I can understand why. That’s your thing, sis, not mine. I just get to help decorate the place.”
She said goodbye, then again thought back over her sometimes-good, sometimes-bad conversation with Nick.
“Make it beautiful for me.”
She’d seen the dare in his eyes when he’d said that. And she’d heard the gentleness in his request. Nick might not be the kind she could sweet-talk or force, but he could be the kind who would do something sweet and special simply because it pleased him. And he had done it for her, too, she sensed. But why? The man certainly presented a paradox. Too strange and spine-tingling for her to figure out right now, but too mysterious and intriguing for her to let go just yet.
“I’ll need to read up on how to restore a mural,” she said to get her mind off Nick and his “make it beautiful for me” lips. Then she pulled into a parking space across from the Fleur Café and hurried in to spill everything to Winnie and Callie.
* * *
Nick stood in the empty drawing room of Fleur House and sniffed the last of the sweet notes of Brenna’s floral perfume. The smell of wisteria and jasmine hung in the air like a wedding veil, light and full of mystery.
And