“I don’t think—”
“You need a housekeeper,” she told him flatly “and God knows, you desperately need someone to cook for you. And I need the extra money. I’ll be so quiet, you’ll never know I’m here. Promise. So why not just give me a chance?”
Clearly, she wouldn’t leave without an argument and he didn’t have time for one. It seemed easier at the moment to agree. “Fine. I’ll be upstairs in the office. Third door on the left.”
“Have fun!” She turned away and started opening cupboards, muttering to herself.
Tanner intended to talk to Mitchell and get him to fire the woman. Soon. She’d already forgotten he was there as she made notes on a tablet she’d found in a drawer. She was humming and the sound of it pushed him into moving. This wasn’t going to work out. He’d give her tonight, but tomorrow, she’d have to go.
When he left the kitchen, she didn’t even glance at him.
The minute she was alone, Ivy slumped against the beautiful kitchen countertop.
“That went well,” she murmured to the empty room. She’d made him angry right off the bat. Though to be fair, she thought, he had already been angry when he opened the door to her. If she hadn’t been so quick on her feet, she might not have gotten into the house.
And she’d had to get in. Had to have this job as housekeeper. Yes, the extra money would come in handy, what with everything she was trying to do at home right now, but that wasn’t the real reason she was here—in enemy territory. That sounded odd, even to her. She had never actually had an enemy before. But she did now. A very rich, very powerful one.
But she wished she’d known ahead of time that her enemy was so gorgeous. One look at him and she’d actually had to lock her knees to keep them from buckling.
Tanner King should have a warning label slapped against his forehead. More than six feet of leanly packed muscle and long legs, the man was a walking hormone celebration. She knew because her own were still doing a happy dance that had her palms damp and her stomach doing twists and turns. From the moment he opened his front door, Ivy had felt as though she was trying to keep her feet during an earthquake.
His dark blue eyes, his thick black hair, shaggy and touching the collar of his shirt. His wide shoulders, narrow waist and his long legs all combined to make her insides quiver.
And that was something she hadn’t counted on. How was she supposed to work for the man, subtly win him over, if her body was in a constant state of excitement?
“Maybe Pop was right,” she muttered, remembering how her grandfather had tried to talk her out of this plan. Too late now though, she thought, stalking to the floor to ceiling cupboard on the far end of the room. As she’d hoped, it was a butler’s pantry and one look inside at the mostly empty shelves told her that Tanner King was lucky he hadn’t starved to death in the two months he had been living here.
Bur then it seemed that all he did was work on his computer games and make complaining phone calls to the sheriff.
About her.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before letting all the air slide from her lungs again. That’s why she was here, of course. One too many visits from Sheriff Cooper who had told her only two days before that he didn’t know how much longer he could placate Tanner King.
Closing the pantry doors, she leaned back against them and looked at the expansive room. Beautiful but empty. Sort of like its owner, she mused. What kind of man was it who could build a house this beautiful and leave it so bare?
“Well, that’s what you’re here to find out, isn’t it, Ivy?” she told herself firmly.
She not only wanted to understand him, she wanted to make him understand her and this place he’d moved to. Before he ruined everything.
It wouldn’t be easy, but Ivy didn’t come from a family of quitters. Once her mind was made up, her grandfather often observed, it would take an act of God to change it. She was here and she wasn’t going to leave until she’d helped Tanner King to see the light, so to speak.
A little nervous about this whole thing, she knew pretending to be nothing more than a part-time housekeeper was going to be hard. After all, she was a terrible liar. But then she didn’t actually have to flat out lie either, did she? Ivy smiled to herself. It was more of a lie of omission and that wasn’t really so bad, was it? If it was for the greater good?
“Man, I wonder how many people have consoled themselves with that particular thought.”
She sighed a little, wishing things were different. But wishing didn’t change a thing as she knew all too well. Besides, the game was in motion, she’d already made her first move, so there was nothing to do now but go forward. She was here. She’d do the job she came to do.
And one way or another, Tanner King would find out he’d met his match.
Two
“All I’m saying,” Tanner King muttered darkly into the phone, “is that a man shouldn’t have to be bothered by Christmas in the middle of August.”
“Uh-huh.” The voice on the other end of the line sounded amused. “Now you sound like those idiots who buy a house next door to an airport and then complain about the noise.”
Tanner scowled out the window at the tree farm that bordered his one acre plot of land. At night, it looked deceptively peaceful. The scent of pine drifted to him on a soft breeze slipping beneath the partially opened window and he scowled. Looking at the place now, you’d never guess what a crowded, noisy place it was during the day.
“What’s your point?”
“My point,” his cousin said on a chuckle, “is that you knew that Christmas tree farm was there when you bought your place a year ago. No point whining about it now.”
“A,” Tanner told the other man, “I don’t whine. And B, what kind of Christmas tree farm is open all year round? Nobody mentioned that when I bought this place.”
Of course, he hadn’t asked, either. But, Tanner thought in his own defense, who would? He’d bought his house more than a year ago and hadn’t given his next-door neighbors much thought, beyond the fact that the trees made for a nice view from his windows. Christmas tree farms, by definition, were Christmas-based operations, right? At least that was how it was supposed to be. Shaking his head while his cousin’s voice rang in his ear, Tanner again stared out the window of his office at the property next door.
He had moved in only two months ago—since the construction crew he’d hired right after buying the place had spent nearly ten months remodeling. When he’d finally settled in, he’d looked forward to some quiet. Who wouldn’t have, with a tree farm as their closest neighbor? Instead though, he had spent the last two months watching a veritable parade of visitors to the Angel Christmas Tree farm.