Hot Property (8 page)

What was happening to her? She couldn’t
remember the last time she’d cried like that.

She caught sight of a car coming up to her
rear and didn’t wait for the sound of a honking horn to get moving
again.

Betsy turned onto the main street and headed
for home. She knew the distance to her house was not far enough to
work out all the conflicting thoughts bombarding her mind. The
smart thing would be to blame all the emotional upheaval on
PMS.

Once she arrived home, took a shower, and
pulled on her favorite one piece terry cloth short set, reality
hit. Post Menstrual Syndrome wasn’t the culprit. Skylar Blakewood
was. She was falling in love with the man. The tears could be
blamed on knowing he didn’t share those feelings. After all, the
man planned to marry Stephanie Rogers. Didn’t he?

Betsy paced around her living room for the
next hour trying to find a solution to her predicament. Then she
remembered the promise to herself all those months ago to never let
her guard down around a man.

If she ignored the emptiness she felt when
she and Skylar were apart, with any luck it just might go away.
There was the other option. She could tell Skylar the truth. She’d
fallen in love with him. Then she could be humiliated when he
laughed at her.

She crawled into bed after making the
decision to get a grip on her emotions and throw up a shield of
armor to prevent this from ever happening again.

The grueling weekend of doing everything
from a long motorcycle ride, swimming, then hiking up the side of a
mountain to strengthen her body while she willed herself to fight
emotions, had Betsy feeling almost normal by the time she strolled
in the front door at work Monday morning.

She smiled and nodded at Mary who was on the
phone when she buzzed past her desk and up the stairs to her
office. Settled behind her desk she checked her appointment book.
The newlyweds were due in her office in a half hour to draw up an
agreement on a house she showed them Friday. From there she had a
day full of house showings.

“Guess who I just got off the phone with?”
Mary said, wide-eyed as she stepped on the landing.

Betsy shrugged her shoulders. “I give up,
who?”

“Skylar Blakewood. He’s on his way over
here.”

“Now?”

“Should be here any minute. He has a revised
copy of the house plans for you.”

Betsy twisted open the top button on her
blouse before it totally cut off the air to her lungs. She had to
get out of the building before she suffocated. Before Skylar
arrived.

“Oh by the way, you never did tell me what
your Friday night meeting with him was about.”

Betsy ignored her friend and slid the strap
to her shoulder bag up her arm. A picnic and a kiss would sum it up
for her. But Betsy didn’t have time to get into a discussion on
either subject.

“He wanted to point out where an addition
will go,” Betsy offered as she slipped past Mary.

“Where you going?”

Betsy kept moving down the steps and toward
the front door when she called back over her shoulder. “I have some
banking to do.”

“What about Skylar? He should be here--”

“He can leave the plans with you.”

Whatever Mary said fell on deaf ears. Betsy
had already exited the building. She slipped down the alley that
ran along the two story structure, a shortcut to the bank, two
blocks away. She had no reason to enter the bank. She’d done her
banking on Friday.

Betsy turned the corner onto the main street
of town. She traveled down the business district like a woman
running from a fire; a fire of desire no amount of willpower and
determination could extinguish.

She found herself inside the corner drug
store standing at the checkout counter with a bottle of Pepto
Bismol in her hand. It was worth a try, she thought, but knew a
dose of the awful tasting liquid wasn’t going to do a thing for the
giddy sensation in the pit of her stomach. Her sickness couldn’t be
cured with any kind of over the counter medicine.

Slowing her pace considerably, she headed
back toward the office. Hopefully enough time had passed for Skylar
to have dropped off his house plans and gone on his way. But as
Betsy approached the end of the alley, she spotted old Betsy parked
across the street. She smashed her back against the brick building
wall and froze.

“What’s wrong with me,” she was finally able
to mutter. Just because her body responded so vibrantly in his
presence, she couldn’t spend the rest of her life hiding from the
man.

She closed her eyes, willed herself to
concentrate, and within seconds flipped open her eyelids. Taking a
deep breath, she shoved her chin in the air and peeled her back off
the wall. As she rounded the corner of the building and headed for
the front door, she repeatedly told herself her body parts would
not begin acting up when she saw him.

Betsy opened the door, about to forge
onward, only to be stopped in her tracks by the sight of the large
frame filling the doorway. She instantly got a whiff of the
familiar cologne. A fluttering sensation tickled the core of her
stomach. But she refused to allow this mild sensation to trigger
anything more powerful. After all, it was her body and she was in
charge of it and extremely proud of herself for not barreling smack
into him when she came in the door.

“Finally!” declared Skylar as his eyes made
a quick sweep down Betsy’s front, lingering slightly on her breasts
before finishing the journey.

His warm smile made her believe he was happy
to see her, but Betsy noted the hint of sarcasm in his tone and
responded in kind. “Finally? I’m very busy, Skylar. You can’t drop
by whenever the mood strikes and assume I will be here or free to
see you.”

“Betsy!” Mary shrieked from behind her desk.
“If you’re finished, there are customers waiting to see you in your
office.”

“And I wouldn’t think of taking up a second
more of your precious time.” Skylar brushed past her on his way out
the door.

Betsy remained speechless and breathless as
she watched him pass. Her silence continued as he crossed the
street. By the time he reached old Betsy, panic set in. She took a
quick look at Mary and took off after him.

“Skylar,” Betsy called out as she darted
into the street without looking.

If it were not for the sound of tires
squealing and a horn honking, he never would’ve looked back. But he
did, just as Betsy jumped onto the curb.

“Hey lady, you tryin’ to get yourself
killed?” A man shouted from inside the passing car.

Betsy mouthed a sorry, then looked away from
him to see Skylar only inches away from her. His eyes, warm and
gentle, gazed down into hers. Out of the corner of her eyes, she
saw his hands coming up the side of her like he was about to put
them on her. Instead, he quickly dropped them to his sides.

“You almost gave me heart failure,
woman.”

“The guy didn’t even come close to hitting
me.”

Skylar ran his fingers through the dark mass
on top of his head. “You know you are-just don’t ever give me a
scare like that again, okay?”

Confusion filled her. What did he care if
she got ran over by a Mack truck? Tempted to say as much, she bit
back the words, but had no idea why.

“I’ll look both ways before I cross a street
again. Satisfied?”

A displeased grunt came before the words.
“What were you running after me for anyway?”

Betsy finally released the firm hold on her
breath, determined not to spout something about never running after
a man. “I wanted to apologize for being so short with you.”

“Not necessary. You said what was on your
mind. I can appreciate that. When I need to see you again, I’ll be
sure to make an appointment.”

Betsy shook her head. “No. You’re a client.
Clients can drop in whenever they want. It’s just that I’m not
always in the office and--”

“How was the pie?”

Betsy peered up into the pair of eyes
staring down at her. “Excuse me?”

“The apple pie.”

“Oh, the pie. It was delicious. Finished the
last piece this morning for breakfast.”

“I’m glad you liked it. So what kind do you
want next time?”

Betsy’s mouth opened, but it took a few
seconds for the words to come. “I thought we agreed not to mix
business with pleasure.”

Skylar snickered. “I have yet to see an
agreement that wasn’t made to be broken.” He slipped his arm around
her elbow. “Now, I think I should see you safely back across the
street.”

Betsy jerked her arm away in protest. “I’m
perfectly capable of crossing the street myself, thank you.”

Skylar backed off chuckling. As he did, he
slid his hands inside his trouser pockets and headed toward old
Betsy. “Suit yourself, Miss Independence.”

His words came to Betsy as she stood on the
curb looking both ways down the street. Safe to cross, she stepped
off the curb, feeling thoroughly confused and aroused from the
leftover feel of his arm linked with hers.

“I apologized,” she told Mary the moment she
stepped inside and strolled past her desk, ignoring her look of
disapproval.

“Sorry to keep you waiting folks.” She
apologized to the young couple sitting in front of her desk.

“That’s okay. We have the whole morning
free,” the bubbly new bride offered.

Betsy sat down behind her desk. “Well let’s
hope this doesn’t take that long.”

“You don’t think there’s gonna be a problem
getting mortgage approval, do you?” came from the groom.

Betsy smiled with the hope of easing his
tension, then gave the paperwork in front of her a quick scan.
“Income and credit history look great. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay then, where do we sign?” he asked,
lightening up with a smile.

Betsy pulled a contract out from under
files. “Before you sign this, we need to finish filling it out.
Have you agreed on a price?”

She tried not to stare, but couldn’t help
noticing the indecision on their faces. This could take the
duration of the morning, she decided, not pleased by the thought.
She had things to do. The most important, trying to figure out what
Skylar meant by his comment on contracts being made to be broken.
What about his reference to her as Miss Independence? Had she
jerked away from him to proclaim her independence or because her
body began heating up the moment he touched her?

Chapter Six

Betsy had little time to think about
anything but work over the next weeks. The Federal Reserve Board
had dropped the interest rate and buyers were taking full
advantage. Gobbling up properties as if they were afraid the rate
would shoot back up without warning.

The long hours and hectic pace made the days
whirl by. With all the settlements Betsy had lined up for the end
of September, she’d be able to get a few payments ahead on her
business loan. If everything went as planned, she’d be able to sock
away a sizeable chunk of cash for the land to build her dream
house. She hadn’t found another hilltop but was confident she
would.

In her office, she kicked back in the desk
chair, letting her thoughts drift. She’d been successful keeping
thoughts of Skylar at bay. Not hearing from him had helped. He did
say he’d call when the house was under roof. But that didn’t let
her off the hook from feeling a twinge of guilt. As his Realtor,
part of her job was to check on the progress of the house. She
touched base with her other clients at least once a week. Why
should Skylar Blakewood be any different?

She checked her watch. “Six o’clock!” Betsy
could’ve sworn she’d just said goodbye to Mary a few minutes ago.
She’d daydreamed away an hour since Mary always leaves the office
at five on the dot.

Snatching her appointment book from beneath
a stack of files, and seeing she had a free evening gave instant
relief. The hour hadn’t been wasted. It gave her just enough time
to catch her breath and get her second wind for an evening free of
work.

She left the office and stopped home long
enough to jam a load of clothes into the washing machine and slip
out of her dress and into a pair of jeans and tee shirt.

Back outside, the chill of excitement that
ripped through her had little to do with the crisp evening air when
she hopped on her bike.

She gunned the throttle until she was moving
at a dangerous speed. But Betsy wasn’t thinking of what would
happen if she blew a tire or lost control and ran off the road. Her
thoughts were clear. She smiled as the cool wind slapped at her
face.

Turning onto the country road, she inhaled
deeply to cleanse her lungs with the fresh scented air. She eased
off the gas while she coasted down hills and around curves in the
road. At the same time, she took in the breathtaking beauty around
her.

The forest of trees to her left and right
were already blossoming with the splendor of autumn. Gold, red,
yellow, orange and green batches of leaves sent a halo beneath the
darkening evening sky.

Betsy told herself it wasn’t intentional,
but out of habit that she’d taken the turnoff bringing her to that
once upon a time dreamland. No cause for alarm, she decided as she
came to a stop near the base of the hilltop. She’d check the
progress on the house so she’d know when she could start bringing
prospective buyers. But when she focused on the peak instant panic
set in.

Spotting old Betsy on the hilltop meant
Skylar was near. Then she caught sight of the tall and round brick
framework. She’d been right. Skylar and his work crew were erecting
a castle. But it wasn’t the dreary stone gray monstrosity she
predicted. It was white--pure and brand spanking new.

As if it had called to her, she found
herself halfway up the hillside before she realized it. She
hesitated debating rather to turn around and high tail it out of
there or proceed.