Читать книгу An Heiress on His Doorstep - Teresa Southwick, Teresa Southwick - Страница 10

Sitting at his desk in the library, J.P. looked up from the spreadsheet on his computer screen. Jane was in the room. He couldn’t even say a sound had alerted him to her presence. He wished she’d come in making as much noise as a high school marching band, but she hadn’t. Somehow he’d just sensed she was there. And that was damned annoying. She stood just inside the door, staring with a sort of awestruck expression at the floor-to-ceiling bookcases ringing the perimeter of the room.

“May I help you?”

She whirled at the sound of his voice and pressed a palm to her chest. “Good heavens, you startled me. I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

Like hell she didn’t. “I’m working.”

“Surely you have an office?”

“You’re in it,” he said.

“I mean outside the home.” One delicate, dark eye-brow arched. “Or are you hanging around the house to keep an eye on me?”

So she’d noticed. Unfortunately, he’d noticed she wasn’t hard on the eyes. And the ridiculous outfit she wore did nothing to lessen the impact. His mother’s sweats were too long and baggy for Jane and the snug T-shirt molded to her upper body. Both items only emphasized how small she was.

“I have an office. But I’m working from home today in order to spend some time with my mother. Where is she, by the way?”

“You mean did I whack her and dispose of the body in the rose garden?”

Sass, he thought intrigued. The quick comeback was evidence of a keen intellect. And whatever characteristics she might possess, shyness wasn’t one of them. He tucked the information away.

“I see you have an imagination and you know how to use it,” he commented.

“Maybe I’m a creative person.” She stood in front of his desk and tapped a finger against her lips. “I’ve been giving it some thought. And I think maybe I do something with interior design and decoration.”

“Really?” He leaned back in his tufted leather chair and studied her.

“I think I had one of those memory bursts your mother mentioned.” Her gaze swung in a semicircle and touched on elements of the room. “Just looking around this house, ideas are coming to me—material swatches, paint chips, traffic patterns, rearranging furniture. I have a very strong sense that I do decorating for a living. So there may be some truth in what your mother says about a connection between R and R and memory recovery.”

“I see.”

“And by the way, I didn’t whack her. She said when I saw you to tell you she forgot about a doctor’s appointment. It’s her yearly checkup and you shouldn’t worry. And if her doctor is running as late as usual, she’ll probably stay at a hotel in town.”

Just like Audrey to take in a stray and leave everything to him. J.P. sighed. “Well, here we are then.”

“Yes.” She glanced at the bookshelves. “This room reminds me of the scene in Beauty and the Beast when Belle goes into the library for the first time.”

“Another memory flash?” he asked.

“Apparently. Speaking of the beast,” she said, her gaze narrowing on him. “Are you always so warm and inviting?”