The Man for Maggie

That’s beside the point, she told herself. You have to be professional.

She took a deep cleansing breath, closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind by picturing herself in a field of wildflowers.

It didn’t work.

Nick stood in the midst of all those flowers, still wearing the blue jeans and tool belt, but the T-shirt was gone. The contours of his bare chest and work-hardened biceps glistened with perspiration.

Her eyes popped open. No way, Maggie Meadowcroft. This has to stop. She absolutely could not let herself imagine Nick in that field, or anywhere else, wearing any less clothing.

No matter how much she wanted to.

She closed her eyes again. Okay, maybe one little peek.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Her eyes flew open.

Nick stood in the doorway, holding her sketches and looking a little puzzled about finding her standing in a trance in the middle of the kitchen.

A wave of heat flashed across her face. So much for being professional. “You weren’t interrupting anything,” she said. “I was just thinking.”

“I see.”

He didn’t say that he wondered what she’d been thinking about. He didn’t have to.

“You have sketches. They’re very good,” he said. “Did you draw them?”

“The sketches? Oh, yes. I wanted to, you know, to get an idea of what should go where and how everything will look when it’s finished and…” For heaven’s sake, Maggie. Stop babbling.

If he thought she was out of her mind, he was too nice to let on. “These are very good drawings.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Maybe you should have been an architect.”

Maggie Meadowcroft, Architect? “I don’t think so. Too many rules and regulations and building codes.”

“You don’t like rules?”

“Rules are fine but I’m not always very good at following them.”

His mouth spread into a wry smile. “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“So you think you’ve already got me figured out?” she asked.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. But take yesterday, for example. You were wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt and pearls.” His eyes now held a spark of mischief. “When everyone knows the rules of fashion dictate that rubies should be worn with tie-dye.”

She did like a man with a sense of humor. “And how do you know so much about these things?”

The flash of humor disappeared and a hint of the bitterness she’d detected yesterday crept back into his voice. “My mother has single-handedly ensured the success of the jewelry industry.”

Interesting. “Those were Aunt Margaret’s pearls that I was wearing. I’ve never had any real jewelry so I wanted to know how it felt to wear them.”

“And? How did they make you feel?”

She remembered exactly how she’d felt. “Like a princess. There’s something elegant and understated about pearls.”

“But you’re not wearing them this morning.”

“No. They don’t go with faded denim, either.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Princesses must wear blue jeans sometimes.”

She tried to strike a regal pose. “Of course we do, but we prefer to wear diamonds with denim.”

“I see. I’ll remember that.”

And she had a feeling he would. She also liked the way his smile made her feel a little light-headed. It sure made it difficult to be professional though. “You must be very busy, running a big construction company and all. Maybe we should talk about the work that has to be done on the house.”

“Sure thing.”

“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked. “It’s herbal.”

He shook his head. “No, thanks. Do you have any coffee?”

“Sorry.” But she made a mental note to buy some and figure out how to make it.

He studied the two sketches in his hand and glanced at the others spread on the kitchen table. “You’ve drawn quite a few different floor plans. Is there one you prefer?”

“Yes. Actually, I like the two you’re holding but I can’t make up my mind which layout will work best.”

“Why don’t you explain what you want and we’ll take it from there.”

She knew exactly what she wanted. His hands were strong and tanned and rough from work. After experimenting with several essential oils and plant extracts, she had found the perfect blend for softening the skin and relaxing tired muscles.

Would he think she was too forward if she suggested a hand massage?

She looked up, straight into those luscious dark eyes. Yes, he probably would.

Take it slow, Maggie, she chided herself. Once you’ve hired Nick, you’ll have all the time you need to get him to loosen up and reconnect with his feelings. “I was thinking I’d like to convert the living room into an area for doing hair and facials and set up a massage table in the dining room. What do you think?”

“You do massage?” he asked.

It was a loaded question. “Therapeutic massage. It helps people relax and improves the circulation.”

“Right.” He lowered his head and studied her drawings some more, almost as though he was seeing them for the first time.

“So what do you think?” she asked.