Once Upon a Valentine

Also moot was trying to pretend that he wasn’t going to go next door and bum a cup of coffee off of them. Pretty damn pathetic that it was the only time he had a hope in hell of exchanging a few words with Shea Weatherby.

Sleeping with her during that ice storm before Christmas hadn’t changed a single thing where she was concerned. She still gave him the brush-off. It hadn’t changed a thing where he was concerned, either, except to cement even more firmly what he’d already known.

That he wanted her like crazy.

He had from the very first time she’d approached him with her notepad and pen, looked up at him with her enormous blue eyes and her long blond hair blowing around her shoulders in the breeze, and asked if he minded if she recorded their interview.

He’d looked into those eyes and felt the world stop. He’d thought that the heavens were really smiling on him when he’d learned that she’d be regularly doing some work for Cornelia Hunt next door. And then that his chances with her were looking up after that ice storm. He was a man used to getting what he went after and one night wasn’t enough.

But she had remained stubbornly resistant. She’d slept with him, yes. But she’d refused to see him again. Period.

He knew it wasn’t because she was uninterested.

So much of her was a mystery, but that wasn’t. It wasn’t arrogance or conceit that made him believe it, either. They’d been pussyfooting around their attraction for a good two and a half years, but the night of the ice storm, he’d hoped that they’d finally stopped playing.

He hadn’t even intended to do anything that night but keep her safe. The storm had stopped the city cold. Bridges and roads had been closed. Erik had been stuck out in Port Orchard and Pax had been at the office to take care of some paperwork. He’d seen Shea’s car parked in front of Cornelia’s building and so he’d waited around. Then, when the storm descended in earnest and her car hadn’t started...

Of course he’d given her shelter.

Only she’d kissed him. And given him hope.

After all this time of being shot down by her, she’d opened the door wide and he wasn’t the kind of man who ignored opportunities.

He shoved back from the desk, grabbed a coffee mug from the break room and went out the side door, crossing from the alleyway between his building and Cornelia’s to her front entrance. He went inside, passing by the discreet plaque affixed outside the door that said FGI.

He hadn’t known what the initials stood for until his partner had told him it stood for Fairy Godmothers, Inc. Erik had laughed wryly over it because he’d met his new fiancée through the business and it wasn’t a dating service at all, despite the sound of it.

As long as Erik was finally happy having fallen in love with Rory, Pax didn’t care if FGI was a dating service. But he knew Cornelia’s new business was about business—namely, helping give young women a start that they might not have otherwise been able to have.

It was one of the things Pax liked about the older woman. She cared about helping people. And she was surprisingly self-effacing and low-key for a woman who’d recently married one of the wealthiest men in the country, Harrison Hunt. He—and the computer company he’d founded, HuntCom—were household names.

What wasn’t low-key, though, was the interior of the building she’d bought several months ago. It had been in a constant state of renovation ever since, but it was clear that the place wasn’t going to be your ordinary office building. Now, the entryway was complete with a marble floor with inlaid medallions in the center, spurring a sense of guilt whenever he crossed it wearing his work boots. The space looked more like it needed to be hosting art exhibits.

Not that there was a lack of art in the space. Paintings were hung above the split, curving staircase that led to the upper landing where scaffolding was clearly visible. Pax was no expert on art, but he figured the impressionist paintings were likely originals given Harrison Hunt’s insistence that his new wife have nothing but the best.

“Good afternoon, Pax!” An attractive woman wearing glasses was descending the one side of the staircase that wasn’t cordoned off with heavy, milky white plastic. “Come for some coffee, did you?”

He lifted the mug in his hand in answer. “Hey, Phil.” Then he gestured at the plethora of red roses that were sitting in vases on every available surface, including some of the stairs. “This going to be part of the regular décor for FGI or just a comment on it being Valentine’s Day?”

Felicity Granger laughed lightly and plucked a rose from one of the staircase bouquets as she finished descending. She deftly broke off most of the stem, then reached out and tucked the tightly furled flower through a buttonhole near his collar. “Valentine’s Day, of course.” She looked around at the overwhelming floral display. “Mr. Hunt’s doing, naturally.” She smiled. “Cornelia tossed up her hands when they were delivered. I guess she figures if she can’t control her husband’s grandiose interference with the renovations here, she’s not going to be able to stop him from buying out half of the floral shops in Seattle.” Phil walked with Pax back to the fancy little break room that was better equipped than most kitchens. “I put on a fresh pot to brew when Shea arrived.” She gave Pax a sideways look. “I figured you wouldn’t be far behind.”

He grabbed the pot and dumped some in his mug. “I just came for the java.”

Phil nudged up her glasses and shrugged. “Twice a week now for how long? Month? Month and a half? When you have three minutes or so alone with her if you’re lucky? How’s that approach working for you?”

His neck felt hot. He was thirty-eight damn years old. Had been voted most eligible bachelor in Seattle three different times. Even before he and Erik hit the big time a decade ago after designing a sloop for one of Harrison’s sons, J.T., Pax had never had problems finding a date. But he couldn’t seem to get a particular short, curvy blonde to take him seriously at all. “FGI isn’t supposed to be a dating service,” he muttered. If it was, maybe he should consider hiring them to improve his chances.

Phil just laughed again. “Shea’s upstairs in Cornelia’s office but I’m pretty sure they’re nearly finished,” she said as she headed out of the break room. “In case you decide you want to try a more direct approach.”

Pax had visited the offices at the top of the stairs only once when Cornelia had given him a tour of the ongoing renovations. He damn sure wasn’t going to go up there now to hunt down Shea. Instead, he leaned back against the granite-topped counter and leisurely sipped his coffee.

It really was a helluva cup of coffee. And he knew Shea wasn’t likely to leave the place without first filling up the travel mug that she always had with her.

He knew the second she was heading down the staircase, not just because he could hear her voice as she spoke with Cornelia, but because his nerves twitched the way they always did whenever she was in the vicinity.

“Good afternoon, Pax,” Cornelia greeted when she walked into the small room, her softly lined face looking amused. “What a surprise to see you.”

Shea snorted softly. But instead of reaching for the coffeepot, she moved past Pax without looking at him and filled her travel mug with water from the dispenser sitting next to a built-in gas range. “Hardly a surprise when he seems to spend more time here than he does at his own office. Nearly every time I come by, he’s here.”

Pax saw the way Cornelia pressed her lips together and looked away, trying not to laugh.

Fortunately, Shea didn’t notice.

Her honey-gold hair was loose, streaming nearly to her waist. Her short jacket was the same chocolate color as his dog, Hooch. She often wore jeans and boots, but today she was wearing flat-heeled loafers, brown tights and a pleated orange skirt that ended just above her shapely knees.

When she straightened, he quickly looked up from her legs, and her wide eyes collided with his.

She had dark circles under eyes as if she were short of sleep, but she was still the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. “No coffee today?”

“Not today.” Her lashes dropped and she looked toward Cornelia. “I’ll get that background report to you right away.”

Cornelia smiled, her expression under control again. “I appreciate you putting a rush on this one. Phil found her for us, and we’re just waiting on your report to pair her with a mentor.” Her gaze took in Pax. “If she turns out to be our next client, I have an ideal match in mind. My son-in-law Gabe is in construction and one of his partners has been looking for a new challenge. I think her business plan might be right up his alley.”

Shea nodded, her eyes still avoiding Pax’s. She patted the oversized purse hanging from her shoulder and he guessed she probably had an email or a letter regarding Cornelia’s latest project inside. “I’ll get on it tonight.”

“Oh, don’t do that,” Cornelia tsked. “It’s Valentine’s Day. You should be out enjoying the evening. Your research can wait until morning.”

“I don’t have any plans.” Shea didn’t seem upset at that fact, either. “I’ll leave Valentine’s Day for the people who believe in all that—” she waved her hand slightly “—stuff.”

“Like my so-subtle Harrison?” Cornelia smiled. “He’s taken Valentine’s Day to a new level, as we all can see. The man has no sense of moderation.” She patted Shea’s shoulder and turned toward the doorway. “Take one of the bouquets on your way out,” she invited. “You, too, Pax. You can give it to Ruth or something.” She sailed out of the break room.

Shea’s gaze flicked up to his, then away again. She moistened her lips. Looked as if she were going to say something, only to shake her head once and tuck her hair behind her ear. “Enjoy the coffee,” she muttered and followed Cornelia out of the room.

Pax grimaced, left the coffee mug on the granite counter and went after her. “Shea. Wait.”

She stopped, spinning on her heel in the center of the marble foyer. “Pax, don’t. Please. I don’t have the energy right now.”

“Energy for what? I just wanted to say Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Her lips twisted. “Right.” She reached out and touched the rose Phil had stuck in his shirt. “Never figured you for the type who’d get excited over a Hallmark holiday.”

He wondered what she’d have to say when she got home and saw the delivery he’d arranged for her. “Valentine’s Day predates greeting card companies. What’s got you so tired? Your editor over at the Tub putting you on more stories or something?”

“Always plenty of silly stories and gossip.” Her foot edged toward the doorway as if she couldn’t wait to escape. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Are you seeing someone?”

There was no mistaking her surprise. “No!” Her gaze darted toward the empty staircase. “No,” she said more calmly. “I’ve told you before. I’m not interested in dating anyone.”