The only thing that moved was her lips, which parted ever so slightly to gather some air.
Connor jumped down, snatched his thick work gloves off his hands and jammed them into his back jeans’ pocket while he strode toward her.
Olivia clenched her fist, digging her nails into her palm. The mildly uncomfortable action snapped her back to the reality of where she was and why. She was not here to snatch this fine specimen of a man by his leather belt and haul him into one of these deserted buildings. That was not her assignment.
“Olivia,” he said in greeting, making her name sound like a hymn.
“I should have called or something, but I did want to get started. Maybe we can work out some kind of schedule.” She wished that she could see his eyes behind his dark shades.
The left corner of his lush mouth inched slightly upward. “It’s not a problem. Really. You can come… whenever you want.”
Her clit jumped at the double entendre.
“We can work out a schedule tomorrow night — at dinner.”
Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but it wasn’t lost on Connor.
“We’re still on…?”
“Yes. Sure. I’m looking forward to it,” Connor said.
He studied her for a moment from behind the shield of darkness. “So… where do you want to start?”
“Well, I thought I’d begin by matching up the drawings with the structures that are standing — do some sketches. Then, going forward, examining each of the buildings, the areas around them, checking for artifacts, note taking, more pictures.” She grinned. “Ideally, I need to get in before any major restoration is done. I’d also want to examine any debris.”
“Whatever you need.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll get Jake to take you around.”
Why was she disappointed? She forced a smile. “Great.”
“He’s on the other side. Follow me.”
Connor walked a step or two ahead of Olivia and she cataloged the confident, long-legged swagger that could part a crowd or the seven seas. She drew in a “get it together” breath and matched his pace.
“What time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Oh, um, seven, seven thirty.” She glanced at his profile.
Connor gave a bare nod, then lifted his chin. “Over this way.”
Jake was in the midst of reviewing the blueprints with one of the crew when Olivia and Connor walked up.
“Connor. Dr. Gray.” His greeting held a questioning note. He glanced from one to the other.
“Dr. Gray wants to get started with her research. We’ll work out some kind of schedule, but I told her that you’d give her the full tour in the meantime.”
A brief shadow of confusion passed over Jake’s face. He gave a slight shrug. “Sure.” He flashed a look at Connor, but couldn’t penetrate the dark lenses.
“When you’re done, come back to the main building,” Connor said, and strode off.
Olivia watched him leave and juggled the conflicting emotions that followed — dismissal, disappointment, uncertainty.
“Ready?”
Olivia blinked and turned her focus on Jake. “Yes.” She adjusted her tote on her shoulder and fell into step with him. “I hope this isn’t too much of an inconvenience.”
“Not at all. What the boss wants the boss gets. We can start up on the ridge and work our way down and across,” he quickly added, before Olivia could respond to the “boss” comment.
“Lead the way.”
“You do a lot of these, I suppose,” Jake said.
Olivia smiled. “I’ve had my share. You?”
“Working with Connor is a lot different from what I’d been doing.”
“What was that?”
“Basic construction work, apartments and office buildings mostly.”
“So… how did you and Connor meet?”
Jake slowed in front of a structure that was standing with a hope and a prayer. “Funny, seems as if I’ve known him all my life.” His brow knit. “We were at this bar in Harlem, Rhythms I think was the name. We had a few drinks, started talking and the next thing I knew I was saying yes to joining him on his next reno job. One job led to the next.” He shrugged. “Here we are.”
“He must be a very persuasive guy.”
Jake gave her a sidelong glance from midnight-blue eyes. “Very. Connor always finds a way to get what he wants.” He picked up a yellow hard hat that was stored on the outside of the building and handed it to Olivia. “Can’t be too careful.” He unhooked his own from his work belt and put it on his head. He held open the door of the cabin and Olivia stepped inside.
* * *
For the next two hours, Jake led her around the development, explaining the layout and functions of each of the structures and what, if any, work had been done, while Olivia photographed and took notes. In between she asked innocuous questions about Connor, which Jake seemed more than happy to answer.
* * *
“See everything you need?” Connor asked when Olivia and Jake approached. He wiped his moist forehead with the back of his hand. At some point he’d taken off his gray hoodie and was now wearing only a fitted gray T-shirt that was sticking to his damp torso.
Olivia licked her bottom lip and tore her gaze away from the expanse of his chest, but looking into his now exposed eyes was just as deadly. “Jake was extremely helpful.” She turned and flashed Jake a smile.
“Anytime. I’m gonna head back up the hill. The supplies came in. Need to check the inventory.”
“Sure. And thanks.” Connor focused on Olivia. He leaned against a mud-covered truck, crossed his feet at the ankle and stared at her, his gaze gently probing.
Olivia felt as if she was being caressed, but Connor was several feet away. Her skin tingled. She ran her hands up and down her arms.
“Cold?”
She shook her head. “Um, I’m going back to my place. I have a lot of work to do. Thanks for today.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.” He stepped up to her, then casually placed his hand at the dip of her back, as if it was something he was entitled to do, and the warmth of his hand and his self-assurance flowed through her.
Olivia allowed herself to be guided around the workmen and their big toys. When she and Connor reached her Range Rover, she faced him. “How many more hours?” she asked, lifting her chin toward the work site.
“Till about six.” He took a step. “I’d be in the mood for a drink about six thirty. Care to join me?” It sounded like a challenge.
“I… really have a lot to do… ”
“No problem. If you change your mind, I’ll be at McCoy’s on Winston Street.” He tapped the side of her car and walked away before she had a chance to respond.
Olivia tugged the door open and got behind the wheel. She should have agreed. Instead, she pulled away and went home… to spend the evening alone.
Chapter 4
“S
o… what do you think of Connor Lawson?” Desiree asked. She stuck her fork in the chicken salad and took a mouthful.
Olivia took a sip of her tea. “He’s… nice enough.”
Desiree nearly choked. “Nice enough. You. Are. Kidding. Right?”
Olivia laughed. “What do you want me to say, Desi?”
“I saw the two of you together at the party. There was definitely chemistry.”
“I think you’re imagining things.”
“Hmm. And my name is Don’t Know Any Better.”
Olivia pushed out a feigned sigh. “Okay, okay, you twisted my arm. The man is fine. All caps. Sexy seeps from his pores
and
he’s smart. Lethal combination. Would I kick him out of my bed? I don’t think so,” she added with a grin. “We’re going to dinner tonight. So… we’ll see.” She gave a half shrug.
“That’s more like it. Where are you going?”
“I have no idea.” She picked up her chicken panino. “He didn’t say, just that he was going to pick me up between seven and seven thirty.”
Desiree leaned in. “Connor doesn’t date.”
“What?” Olivia frowned in confusion.
Desiree tilted her head to the side. “Connor is… How can I say this… ”
“Just say it.”
Desiree pursed her lips a moment before responding. “He’s noncommittal. He may meet a woman at a party or a restaurant, but he doesn’t do the ‘date’ thing. At least not in all the time he’s been here.” Her brows rose for emphasis.
“So… what are you telling me… exactly?”
“I’m saying that I think he likes you.”
Olivia playfully rolled her eyes. “You’re reading waaay too much into a simple dinner.”
“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
* * *
After lunch at The Port with Desiree, Olivia treated herself to a mani-pedi, followed by a stop at the local boutique. The bulk of her wardrobe was jeans, T-shirts and one dress fit for a corporate meeting, not a date with the hottest guy in town. But since she had no idea where they were going or what was de rigueur, she opted for the can’t-go-wrong simple black dress with a cap sleeve, V-neckline that offered a hint of the gems beneath, and the hem just above her knees. The fabric was simple jersey that subtly cupped her curves. Her one pair of black dress shoes with a modest two-inch heel would do fine.
Olivia turned from side to side in front of the mirror and was pleased with her reflection, although she often wondered if she resembled anyone. Did she have her mother’s wide doe-shaped eyes or her father’s narrow nose? Whose genes had given her the tiny cleft in her chin? Was her nut-brown complexion a family trait? Did wild springy curls run in the family? As much as she wanted to stop asking the litany of questions, she never could. The answers were always out of her reach. She leaned forward and added a bit of bronze-toned lip gloss, then gave her naturally long lashes a couple of swipes of mascara.
Her cell phone shimmied across the dresser top. She snatched it up and pressed the green phone icon.
“Hello.”
“Hey. I should be to you in about ten minutes. Ready?”
“Just about. See you then.”
Olivia set the phone down and noticed that her hand was shaking every so slightly, as a warm flush, the kind you feel from good liquor, moved through her. She inhaled deeply, took her phone and keys from the dresser and dropped them both in her purse, smoothed her dress and then walked up front. For a few moments she practiced walking back and forth across the living room floor of her cottage rental. Walking and balancing in heels was a far cry from her sneakers and work shoes.
When she first arrived in Sag Harbor, she’d stayed at one of the hotels in town that overlooked Long Island Sound. She’d tried to get a place at The Port but was told they were booked solid. Where she wound up staying was nice enough as hotels go and she would have been content to stay, until she’d run into Desiree Davenport one day at the local vegetable market. They’d hit it off right away and Olivia had confessed her failed attempt at getting a long-term lease for one of the cottages. Desiree promised that she’d personally take care of it, and had teased her with the amenities that only The Port could provide. Olivia didn’t need much convincing, as she sensed that not only would she find a great place to stay but had also found a friend in Desiree Davenport.
Her cottage at The Port was as close to a “home” as she could get. The single-floor design was set in a small cul-de-sac that looked out onto the beach. Floor-to-ceiling windows flanked the east to bring in the morning sun. A fully functional HGTV-worthy kitchen was complete with stainless-steel appliances, dishwasher and a stackable washer and dryer tucked away in a closet. The living area was simple but classy, with soft taupe furnishings, hardwood floors, a fireplace for those chilly nights and a built-in sound system. Her bedroom accommodated a king-size bed, cherrywood dresser and bureau, and a to-die-for walk-in closet. The bathroom was the perfect getaway, with a soaker tub and Jacuzzi jets and recessed lighting to set the perfect relaxing mood. To sweeten the pie, The Port was also a full-service establishment with its own restaurant and bar, day spa and gym, and Desiree and Lincoln had recently added a concierge service for any guests staying for a week or more. Olivia could easily see why The Port was so successful and always full.
No sooner had she opened the foyer closet to get her light shawl than the doorbell chimed. Her heart actually banged in her chest. She licked her lips, drew in a breath and went to open the door.
The light of a half-moon drew an outline around the striking figure that was standing in her doorway.
Olivia’s lips parted but the words got tangled deep in her throat.
“I thought I’d surprise you.”
“Victor… what are you doing here?”
“Don’t look so happy to see me,” he teased, apparently mistaking her horror for surprise.
An awkward moment of “what next” stood between them.
Olivia’s gaze darted beyond Victor’s broad shoulders, checking for Connor’s car, which would be pulling up any minute.
“All dressed up for a night in?” he finally said, as realization dawned on him.
Olivia shifted her weight and folded her arms. “I would invite you in but… I’m expecting someone.”
“I see. Always did have bad timing when it came to you.” He raised his hands in supplication. “Totally my fault. I should have called.” He studied his shoes for a moment, then sheepishly looked at her. “I’m staying at the hotel in town. Why don’t I give you a call tomorrow.”
“Fine,” she managed to reply. She offered a tight-lipped smile.
Victor leaned down and pecked her lightly on the cheek. “Enjoy your evening. You look beautiful, by the way.” He turned and trotted down the steps and walked off to his Audi.
Olivia didn’t realize that she’d been holding her breath until she felt the vein in her temple began to throb. She pushed the door closed and briefly shut her eyes. “What the hell,” she muttered.
No sooner had she turned away than the bell rang again. Steadying herself, she went through the process again.
“Hey,” Connor said in greeting. He slightly tipped his head in the direction of the two-lane road. “Busy night.”
Olivia swallowed and lifted her chin ever so slightly. She didn’t owe him any explanations. “One of those days,” she said offhand. “Ready?”
A shadow of a smile played around his mouth and his eyes darkened with humor. “As long as you are.”
The air hitched in her throat. She retreated a step. “Come in. I need to get my things.” She spun away and click-clicked across the hardwood floor. Why did he have such an unsettling effect on her? His voice, his scent, his movements, those eyes, his lips…
Connor leaned against the still-open door and watched her. Slowly he rocked his jaw as he contemplated the night ahead. Generally, he was a man who wasn’t into surprises. Didn’t like them. He planned his life much the same way he planned his jobs — with efficiency, always factoring in contingency plans, just in case. It was rare that he encountered “just in case” moments. Olivia Gray was one, and for the first time he had no contingency plan.
Olivia came toward him. “You didn’t have to stand in the doorway.” She tucked her purse under her arm and draped her shawl around her shoulders.
Connor stepped around her. She felt the hard heat of him against her back. Goose bumps sprouted along her arms. She shuddered. He pressed his long fingers onto her shoulders and gently adjusted the shawl, smoothing his hands along the fabric. “All set,” he said close to her ear.
A flutter of need flapped in her pelvis and the warm dewdrops quickly followed. She moved away from his invisible embrace. “Slam the door and it will lock behind you,” she said, and stepped out into the pleasantly warm night.
Connor opened the car door for her, then came around to the driver’s side while humming an offbeat tune.
The interior of the Mercedes held his scent, which swirled around Olivia, fogging her clarity. She felt for the first few moments when the door closed that she’d been injected with an aromatic aphrodisiac. To offset her sense of almost weightlessness she forced her attention to routine: fasten seat belt, check lock on door, lay purse on lap.
“Hope you enjoy live music,” Connor said, entering the safe space of her self-imposed sanctuary of banal activity.
“Most of the time,” she said in a teasing tone, clearly referring to his attempt at humming.
He gave her a quick look. “Don’t worry, I have no plans to quit my day job.”
The tight line of tension in the center of her chest snapped with her laughter. “Good to know.”
“I’m pained,
cher
,” he said, slipping easily into his Louisiana vernacular, the barely there twang only adding to his sensual appeal.
Olivia instinctively reached for his arm in a conciliatory gesture.
Bad move.
Her fingertips tingled above the tight ropes of his forearm. He flashed her a half grin. “Many are called, few are chosen, somebody important once said,” she murmured.
“Killing me with kindness will get you kissed,” he said, his voice low and sandpaper rough. He slid his gaze toward her, then back to the road.
Olivia tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth and slowly removed her hand from his arm.
Connor reached forward to the lit dash and pressed the screen. Something bluesy filled the air.
Olivia linked her fingers together. “So… what kind of music?”
“Local band. Heard they were pretty good. Little jazz, little blues. They have a soloist, and the food is great. I think you’ll like it for a small seaside town.”
“You say that as if you think I’m slumming or something.”
He cut her a look. “Not at all. Simple observation.” His fingers caressed the steering wheel. “Are you always so defensive?”
Olivia sat up straighter. Her fingers tightened around her purse. “I’m not defensive. I don’t see how you could come to that conclusion. I was simply… ” She felt his laughter more than she heard it, and then she heard herself, the echo of her defense bouncing around in her brain. She snapped her head toward him and caught the smirk wavering around his lips. She lowered her head and began to laugh. “I do sound a little on edge and full of myself,” she ruefully admitted.
“If you say so,” he teased. He made a right turn that led to the main road heading into town.
Olivia began to relax.
“Why do you think that is?” he asked.
“What?”
“Why you throw up guards and raise the bridge to the moat.”
Olivia sputtered a laugh. “A moat? Really?”
“Bad analogy, but you get what I mean. No offense,” he quickly added, his voice laced with humor.
“None taken.”
“So… ” He slowed the car, then turned into the parking lot reserved for the customers of Misty’s
.
“Old habits,” she quietly confessed.
Connor put the car in Park, turned to look at her. “I know all about that.” His light-filled eyes glided across her face. He unsnapped his belt and then hers. He placed the tip of his finger beneath her chin. “How about we start some new habits.”
She swallowed.
Connor slowly moved toward her until the world disappeared and the sweet heat of his mouth touched down on her, and there was nothing she could do to hold back the moan that rose from the center of her being. He gently sucked on her bottom lip before turning away and getting out of the car in a single movement.
Olivia’s heart banged in her chest. The heat in her head was so intense that it rushed downward and flowed through her limbs.
Connor pulled her door open, extended his hand and helped her to her feet. He pushed the door closed with his free hand. “Ready?”
All she could manage was a slight nod. Connor wrapped his fingers around hers, enveloping them, and led her to the entrance of Misty’s.
The club was abuzz with activity. Many of the circular tables were full. The couple was quickly greeted by a hostess.
“Welcome to Misty’s. Do you have a reservation?”
“Yes. Lawson,” Connor said.
The young woman checked the computer screen then looked up at them with a bright smile. “Your table is ready and waiting.” She signaled to one of the waitstaff, who led them around the tables to one that was close to the stage.
“Can I get you something to drink before you order?” the waitress asked while placing menus in front of each of them.
“Bourbon. Neat.” Connor turned to Olivia.
“I’ll have an apple martini.”
“Very good. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
Olivia settled in her seat and took a look around. “Very nice,” she said, taking in the intimate decor that was reminiscent of The Blue Note in the West Village in New York.
“I’ve only been here once before but it was a good experience — that I wanted to share with you.” The flame flickering in the glass centerpiece lit his eyes and made them sparkle.
Before Olivia could respond the waitress returned with their drinks. “Can I get you something to start?” She looked from one to the other.
“Maybe you could give us a few minutes.”
“Of course.” She spun away.
“Prompt service,” Olivia said with a chuckle.