Читать книгу It Started At Christmas… - Jo McNally - Страница 13

Chapter Three

Amanda was having the weirdest medieval dream. She was in a massive, heavily carved mahogany bed. The room was large and round, with a marble fireplace. Ribbed cathedral ceilings arched so high that she couldn’t see the top of them in the shadows. Tall windows were set into the walls, framed with heavy damask curtains.

A wingback chair was pulled up close to the bed, and a man was sitting there with his feet propped up on the mattress, watching silently. But this was no knight of the round table. Unless knights wore jeans and a T-shirt. Black hair curled down over his forehead.

Blake Randall.

This was no dream.

She sat up with a gasp, pulling the blanket with her. Peeking under it, she was relieved to see she was still fully clothed, sans shoes. Blake didn’t react, watching as if he thought she might bolt. And she was seriously considering it. Her memory came back in fragments—collapsing in the living room, being carried up a winding staircase. She couldn’t quite make sense of it all, but she didn’t feel in danger.

“Where am I?”

Blake sat up and dropped his feet to the floor. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands in front of him. His voice was soft and deep.

“You’re in my suite at Halcyon.”

“What time is it?”

“One o’clock.”

“Does my cousin know I’m here, Mr. Randall? Does anyone?”

His mouth quirked into a smile.

“I didn’t kidnap you. Mel just left to get some lunch.” His smile deepened. “And I think we’ve been through enough together to be on a first-name basis. Call me Blake.”

“Oh, my God—did you carry me up here?” she all but squeaked.

“It wasn’t a big deal. There aren’t that many furnished rooms in this place, so this was the logical choice.”

Dr. Jackson kept telling her she had to deal with the past in order to move on, but they needed to rethink that plan if it was going to lead to impossible situations like this, with her waking up in some stranger’s bed. Blake must think she was some pathetic, weak little creature, and that wasn’t who she was. She wouldn’t let it be.

“There’s almost smoke coming from your ears from all that worrying you’re doing. Relax.”

“I should go…”

“Mel will be back soon. Get some more rest, and after lunch I promise I’ll release you.”

Her eyes narrowed at those last words, but his smile said he was joking. She settled back against the headboard, doing her best to ignore her burning humiliation and impending homelessness. Back to Kansas. Goodbye career.

“Hey…” Blake moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?” To her shock, he reached toward her face. She froze. He gently brushed her cheek with his thumb to sweep away a tear she hadn’t realized she’d shed.

“What’s wrong? I made a fool of myself today. I lied to get an interview with you, and then I had a panic attack in the middle of it. It’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous.” She forced herself to stop talking. If she couldn’t get her emotions under control, she deserved to go home to Mom. Maybe she’d find some nice job in a furniture store selling people plaid sofas.

“Come on, you had a panic attack. That’s a physical condition that’s out of your control.” His hand dropped to rest on the mattress next to hers. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Clearly, I’m a long way from okay. You’ve been kind, but I’ve taken enough of your time. I need to go.”

“Stay…” His hand rested on hers, and he stared at it as if he was as surprised as she was.

They both heard Mel’s footsteps, and quickly pulled their hands away from each other before she walked in. She looked back and forth between the two of them suspiciously before fixing her gaze on Amanda, who was wiping the last of the tears from her face.

“What happened?”

“I’m fine.” Amanda’s hands were shaking. She tucked them under her arms and tipped her head toward the box Mel carried. “I’m also starving.”

Her cousin stared hard at her, then shrugged. “If you’re up to it, there’s plenty of food.”

They ate together at the kitchen island, Blake and the two women. Mel was staring at him with sharp skepticism. And Amanda wouldn’t look at him at all. He set her sketchbook on the marble counter.

“I looked at your drawings.”

Amanda straightened. “You went through my bag? While I was unconscious?”

Mel started to stammer. “N-no, honey. I did. I wanted him to see your portfolio and the sketchbook was there, so…”

“Those were just dash-offs, not something I’d ever show to a client, Mel.”

Blake spoke before Mel could respond.

“Amanda, you were right this morning. I did like your original proposal. That’s why I set up an appointment with someone who turned out to be you.” He smiled at the flush of color on her cheeks. “And these sketches really make your ideas come to life.” He opened the book. “I mean, a sectional in the living room? With a wide-screen TV? You seriously think that can work in a castle?”

“Sure. Victorian is all wrong for this place, and for you, I’m guessing.” He grunted in agreement. He hated all the pink and green wallpaper. She nodded with a smile. “Halcyon’s architecture is solid enough to support whatever style you want. I’d stick with the classics but give it a modern twist with some pops of color and fun accent pieces.” She was in her element now. She might be young, but she knew her stuff. Her proposal had been highly detailed and professional. Even those dashed-off drawings were compelling.

“You really think this can be done?” He gestured to her sketch of the office.

“Of course. It’s mostly cosmetic work. There’s no actual construction, other than the bookcases in the office. The only reason the budget is so high is because of the sheer size of the place and massive amount of horrible wallpaper you have to remove.”

“I need it completed before Christmas. Is that doable?” Nathan clearly had no interest in giving Zach a family Christmas, so it was going to be up to Blake. His chest grew tight. He’d never bought a Christmas decoration in his life, but he had to do something for the boy. Amanda was staring at him with wide eyes.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’re hired.” He set her sketchbook on the counter. He didn’t believe in impulsive decisions, but this just felt right. “You’ve sold me on your vision. So tell me how long.”

“Aaand this just turned into a business meeting,” Mel laughed, “which is my cue to leave. I might still make my spa appointment after all.” She gave Amanda a quick hug. “I knew you could do it, sweetie.” Mel looked at Blake. “You’ve made a good decision.”

“I haven’t accepted the job yet.” Amanda’s chin jutted out in defiance.

Interesting. A few hours ago she’d been begging for it.

Mel laughed again. “You two don’t need me to figure that out. Just don’t overdo it after this morning. Got it?” That last question was for him.

“Got it.” Satisfied, she left them alone.

Amanda looked a little shell-shocked, and he wanted to give her time to absorb her new job. But her silence dragged on so long he started having doubts. He flipped through the sketchbook again.

“Are you suggesting painting the wrought-iron chandeliers orange? That’s not a pop of color, it’s… I don’t know…an explosion?”

“It’s not orange, it’s paprika.” She sounded prim and defensive. “It’s a spice color. It brings a touch of fun and whimsy to the space. This should be a home where you feel free to kick off your shoes and relax without feeling guilty about it.”

“I doubt fun and whimsical are words people normally associate with me.”

“So surprise them.”

He looked back at the drawings. “You’ve surprised me. Are you taking the job?”

She hesitated. “Don’t hire me out of pity, Blake. I don’t want your charity.”

He gave her a steely glare that usually had his employees quaking in their shoes. She blinked, but didn’t look away when he spoke. “I run a billion-dollar business. I don’t make decisions based on pity. You’re a designer out of work. I’m looking to hire a designer. Do you want the job or not?”

Her willingness to walk away from a job she needed and obviously wanted surprised him. Finally she sighed and pushed her plate away. “Let’s take another look together and discuss it.”

“I promised Mel we wouldn’t over—”

“I’m not talking about taking a grand tour. But this kitchen is too modern—it’s an add-on, right?” He nodded. The 1990s kitchen was efficient, but generic. Amanda grimaced. “I can’t feel the house in here.”

Blake had no clue what that meant, but he followed her into the main hall. She rested her hand on the mantel and smiled a secret little smile that made his pulse quicken.

“This was once a home so full of love.” She looked up at him through long lashes. “Do you know its history?”

“Yes. The stories are full of romance and tragedy—”

“Tell me the stories.” Her gentle smile wasn’t a secret this time. It was aimed at him, and it caused him to stutter.

“T-tell you what?”

“Tell me the stories of Halcyon. Knowing the history of a home helps me get a feel for its personality.”

He shook his head. He wasn’t a storyteller. No one had read him fairy tales as a kid. No one had read him anything. Even the nannies were too busy for such frivolity. He wondered if Zach liked stories. Had Tiffany used to read to her son? “There are plenty of people around who know the history better than I do. I just wanted the land, not the legend.”

“There’s a legend? Now you have to tell me!”

He leaned against the mantel and racked his brain for the history of Halcyon. He’d been disgusted with the whole stupid story right up until the moment Amanda Lowery fell in love with it.

“The house was built in the late 1800s by a wealthy banker from New York named Otis Pendleton. His young wife, Madeleine, fell ill, and they thought the country air might cure her. She got better, and apparently Otis had money to burn, so he built her a castle here. He stayed in the city during the week and came here on weekends to see her and the kids.”

Amanda walked over to the ebony staircase and sat on the steps. He followed her.

“Are you tired? We can do this another time…”

She waved her hand in dismissal. “I’m fine, just taking it all in. Finish the story.” He stared at her, and she gestured for him to get going. She was a bossy little thing when she wasn’t a nervous wreck. He sat on the stairs below her, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Pendleton lost everything in the stock market crash in the twenties. He took his own life, jumping out the window of his twentieth-floor Manhattan office.” Amanda gasped. “Some people insist his brother pushed him. I guess there was bad blood there. The children were sure Otis never would have left Madeleine alone, because they were so much in love.”

Amanda sighed wistfully, looking around the empty hall. He had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t seeing an empty room. She was picturing it as the Pendletons’ home. He wasn’t surprised she was a romantic. He was only surprised that he suddenly felt a bit of a romantic himself just telling her.

“Madeleine was grief stricken and took to her bed upstairs. She died before they could evict her and auction off the house. Supposedly she haunts the place.”

“It’s haunted? Have you seen her?”

He rolled his eyes. “Have I seen Madeleine Pendleton walking around Halcyon? Uh, no.”

Amanda looked over her shoulder and up the winding staircase. He knew she was hoping to see some ghostly apparition, but there was nothing to suggest the place was actually haunted. Well…nothing other than some creaky stairs at night and the odd scent of roses in the solarium.

“What happened after Madeleine died?”

“Halcyon’s been a little of everything—a boardinghouse, a motel…rumor has it, it was a brothel for a few years. It was deserted for a long time. A young couple with more money than good sense bought it back in the nineties and poured their penny stock fortune into it, trying to make it into a bed-and-breakfast.” He glanced up. She was hanging on every word. “They’re the ones that added the kitchen and the elevator. But there wasn’t enough income to cover all the work they did. They closed it up ten years ago, and I bought it last year.” It was surprising how comfortable it was to sit here and talk with her. He looked up at the wood ceilings, feeling more affection for the house than he’d felt since he’d bought it. “Most buildings fall into disrepair very quickly when empty, especially old ones, but this one held up surprisingly well.”

“You’ve told me the stories, but what’s the legend?”

He groaned. “Legend has it that Madeleine won’t be happy until the place is a private home again, and that’s why no business has survived here. I guess that means you’re right. It wouldn’t be a good idea to put offices in here.”

She smiled, but it faded quickly at his next question.

“Are you taking the job?”

“I don’t know, Blake. It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“You don’t think you’re capable of a project like this?”

She sat up sharply. “Of course I’m capable. I specialize in period homes. I can handle this.” She gestured around her.

Blake gave her a triumphant grin.

“You are taking the job. And you can do it by Christmas?” It was suddenly imperative that he give Zach a happy Christmas this year to erase the memory of the last one.

“It’s a lot of work to get done in a few months.”

“You’ve convinced me this place can be a home, and I happen to need one. By Christmas.”

Her forehead furrowed. “You don’t have a home?”

“I use the owner suites at whatever resort I’m at.”

“How many resorts do you own?”

He shrugged. “Five. You still haven’t answered my question. Can you have it done by the holidays?”

“Some of the furniture will need to be ordered and may not be here in time…” Amanda looked around, and he could tell she was calculating in her head. It was a hot look on her. Damn it. He stood and moved away. Where the hell did that thought come from?

Her face scrunched, then relaxed, as if coming to a conclusion she approved of. “With enough skilled people, I could probably get most of the work done in time. I’ll need a place to live…”

“If you want to commute from the city, I can send a car for you.”

“Umm… I’m actually…between apartments right now. It would be easier to find a rental here in town.”

He kicked himself. He forgot Mel had told him Amanda was losing her apartment.

“Stay here at the house.”

He probably should have thought that idea through before saying it out loud.

“What?” She stood, her gaze darting around the empty hall. “Here? No.”

“Look, it’s a big place. There’s a nice suite upstairs with a balcony. I’m leaving for Hawaii and Bali in mid-September—I won’t even be here part of the time. I’d give you a room down at the resort, but September’s probably booked solid for leaf season.” He could tell she was considering it. “You can order your meals from the resort, of course. We’ll configure lodging and meals as part of the package. I’ll have Julie make all the arrangements. Her brother’s a contractor, and he’s done good work at the resort and around town. Bobby can handle what you’re planning to do, and he can find workers locally. And don’t worry about being alone here. The security system is excellent…” He was practically begging, and he had no clue why. He just knew he wanted her to say yes. She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded, all business.

“I’ll need a week or two to pack my things and get settled. I’ll need to meet with the contractor as soon as possible so we can set up a schedule.”

“I’ll call Bobby in the morning to set up a meeting.”

He wasn’t prepared for her next question.

“You don’t even like this place, so why spend the money? Why the rush to be ready for Christmas?”

He started to answer, but emotion tangled up his words and kept them from coming out. He looked up at the high ceilings and blew out a deep breath.

“I have a nephew. He’s my responsibility now that my sister is dead.” He ignored her small sound of sympathy. “Being a nomad worked for me before, but that needs to change. I’d never considered this place an option before you showed up. It’s close enough to the city to be workable for me. And Zach…well, a boy should like living in a castle, right?”

She started to laugh, then apparently realized he was serious. Yeah, he was damned serious. He had no clue what a ten-year-old boy liked.

“Blake, every child in the world would love to live in a castle.” She patted his arm affectionately. “I’ll make sure he loves this one when I’m done with it.”

They exchanged business cards and cell phone numbers, then Blake called the resort and had someone pick her up so she wouldn’t have to walk. He watched her go down the front steps. Her long blond curls swayed in counter rhythm to her hips. Damn, she was the real deal. Talented. Creative. And drop-dead sexy.

She was working for him now. Her voice and face changed when she talked about design work. She lost her nervousness. And she’d be living in his house. He closed his eyes and grimaced. What the hell had he just done? He may have just created his very own hell here at Halcyon.

The sooner he was off to Hawaii, the better.