Lake Effect (11 page)

“I have the keys to the manor house for you if you'd like to go in and take measurements. Wyeth will be returning in a few days at which point we can have that meeting.”

• • •

“Hey, Romeo. How's the love life, as if I couldn't tell from that look on your face.” Janele entered her mother's kitchen and unceremoniously plopped James Jr. into his uncle's lap.

Wyeth hoisted his nephew up high in the air and caught him, resulting in squeals of delight from the small child. “Again, Wyweth!”

“That's Uncle Wyweth to you, squirt.” He sat the child on his knee and helped him out of the windbreaker he was wearing.

“She won't even speak to me. I've tried. I saw her in the library a few weeks back and she ran like a rabbit being chased by a dog.

“If she's worth fighting for then you'll just have to wait her out. Give her time. From everything you've told us about her, it could just be that her emotions are close to the surface — and for good reason. I can't even fathom losing James so young.” She shivered. “James called too, Wyeth, said to tell you the deal has been struck and he is looking forward to your arrival. I didn't correct him. I want my visit to be a surprise.”

“I'm glad you're going, Janele,” Olivia said. “You need some time for yourself. You run around here like you're not seven months pregnant. You don't know when to stop. Wyeth, I'm counting on you and James to see this girl relaxes while she's up there.” Olivia scooped her grandson up in her arms and received his sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“You're just happy to have Junior all to yourself, old woman,” Janele said. “Who are you kidding?” The three of them laughed as Olivia gave her daughter a wicked grin.

Wyeth was thrilled that Janele had agreed to accompany him on this trip back to Whiskey Island. Helping her up the steps of the small company plane, he thought she looked tired and uncomfortable. He and James would treat her like a queen, and without James Jr. to run after, he had no doubt she'd be feeling refreshed and ready to tackle her last few months of pregnancy.

“Are you anxious to see the proposal for the manor house?” As usual, his sister had a way of cutting right through his thoughts.

“I am. Are you comfortable?”

“Wyeth, I am seven months pregnant. There is no such thing as comfortable at this state of the game. Stop fussing over me. It's bad enough I've got James and Mother breathing down my neck, I don't need you too.”

“I'm not afraid of James. I am, however, afraid of Olivia. When she tells me to do something, I do it.”

His sister laughed and the rest of the flight was spent in the easy conversation of two people who've known each other all their lives.

• • •

Shelby was taking the last window measurement in the upper front guest suite when she heard the front door open. Wyeth's deep, sexy voice climbed up the steps and seemed to brush over her ear, sending a delicious yet unwelcome shiver down her spine.

“You look exhausted, can I get you anything?” His voice, full of concern, had Shelby's full attention as she quickly stepped down from the ladder. Thank God she'd chosen to walk over rather than drive. Hastily she scribbled the last measurement into her small notebook and prepared to leave the house via the back steps. A female voice stopped her dead in her tracks — the New York accent was familiar, but the voice was different this time, softer.

“I'll admit, this pregnancy has me tired all the time. Maybe I'll just take a nap. You go find James at the vineyard.”

“You go on up to my room and stretch out. I promised I'd take care of you and I will.”

“You're sweet. I can fend for myself, now go.”

Shelby was sure her pounding heart could be heard into the next county. She stood perfectly still and tried her hardest not to cry. That bastard! Damn him for bringing that woman here, the woman from the picture, the woman from the Internet … the woman that is
pregnant
? Had he known about this when he'd slept with her back in June? Oh, she was a fool. She'd been completely taken in by the bastard. Shelby had thought she'd hate this woman but here and now she suddenly found herself filled with a great sadness for her.

She had to get out of here. As quickly and quietly as she could, she eased open the door she'd been hiding behind and peered into the hallway, looking both ways before silently stepping out into the hallway and gently closing the door behind her. Remembering the back steps that led to the kitchen, Shelby scurried down with the intention of sneaking out the back door.

“Going somewhere?” Wyeth's voice climbed up the back of her spine and floated up into her ears.

“I was just leaving,” she snapped.

With two strides he crossed the kitchen to the bottom of the steps, and stood within inches of her face. “I believe a better question would be what the hell are you doing here?”

Shelby swallowed. Here it was, the moment of truth. His deep brown eyes looked at her with a hard, steely resolve. Clearly he was not pleased to see her.

“I was taking window measurements in the guest room.” She squeaked the answer out, looking him straight in the eye. She swallowed hard and waited for his response.

“You're my mystery investor?”

“Yes.” She tried to stand taller and felt the heat creep up her neck. Dammit! This was no time to feel weak. Remembering his houseguest upstairs she stood straighter still and found her resolve.

“Isn't that a coincidence?” he mused. “Or is it?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” She squeaked the question, which irritated her to no end.
Get a grip, Shelby, you can handle this man.

“Oh, I think you know what I mean. Isn't this what you've always wanted? You tell me.”

The answer dawned on her, driving her anger at him up another notch. “Do you seriously think I planned all of this? That I purposely sent Norman up that hill? Oh, you're quite full of yourself aren't you, Mr. Packard?” She was so angry now she practically spit his name out at him.

“You're not the first woman to try and get something from me, Miss Aylesworth. Although, I will tell you, you're the first one to go about it in such a creative way. Maybe you didn't send Norman to push me in the pond but it has worked out rather nicely for you hasn't it? Why didn't you just pitch me your ideas from the beginning? You could've saved us both a lot of trouble.”

“You know I've always loved this house. I never made a secret of that. But, if you think for one minute that I manipulated this entire situation then you are out of your mind. I read about your ideas in the paper and thought my ideas were just as good as anyone else's. Clearly I was mistaken. I don't need anything you have, Mr. Packard, you got that?” She poked his chest with her finger. He grabbed her wrist and held it tightly for a moment before letting it drop from his hand. This was the first physical contact she'd had with him since the night he'd shown up on her doorstep. Her entire body was on keen alert. What kind of a hold did this man have over her that one touch could send her senses into overdrive? No one had ever made her feel this way, both angry and wanting at the same time. The realization was almost painful. “If you think that's the kind of woman I am then you have sorely misjudged me. I believe there is a clause in your contract that will allow you to cancel the deal. I suggest you contact your attorney and invoke that privilege.”

She started to walk away only to find herself caught in his grasp once again. Could he feel her response to his touch? Gently, he turned her around, forcing her to look at him, his eyes dark and menacing.

“In fact, I'll save you the trouble,” she said. “I'll call my attorney as soon as I get home and withdraw my proposal.”

“Oh, no you don't, Ms. Aylesworth. That would be a breach of contract and could cost you dearly. You've already signed the agreement. Why were you sneaking out the back way? Surely you weren't afraid of running into me?”

“I heard you come in. I heard you come in with your pregnant girlfriend and if you think for one minute I'm going to stand around while you flaunt her in my face, you can just forget it.”

• • •

Wyeth had to use all of his resolve to keep from laughing out loud. Oh, this was rich. Should he explain or just let her stew? Did she really think so little of his character? And could she really have set this entire scene up from the beginning just to get at the manor house? His pride wounded, he opted for the second choice: let her stew.

“We have a contract, Ms. Aylesworth, one that I intend to hold you to. We will meet here tonight at seven o'clock, as planned, at which time you will present me with your ideas and an approximate cost.”

He could see the anger flashing in those ever changing green eyes as she listened to his little speech. He could feel his body answering to the challenge in those eyes. He was rock hard standing this close to her. What he wanted to do was take her in his arms and kiss that look right off her face. Hell, who was he kidding? What he wanted to do was much more carnal and ungentlemanly. Thinking again about her little tantrum over Janele of all people, he decided to have a little more fun with her before letting her go.

“One more thing.” He let his eyes take in her outfit, scanning her from top to bottom. Those yoga pants fit her like a glove. That, along with a tight fitting workout shirt that really showed her curves and those damn glasses riding half way down her nose, had his attention.

“What?” The venom in her voice almost had him feeling guilty. Almost.

“Dress nice, will you? I want you to make a good impression.” He could feel her eyes boring into his back as he left the room.

At seven o'clock on the dot, the front bell rang. Wyeth pulled it open and stared in wonder. There stood Shelby, no makeup, her hair pulled back into a severe bun. She wore a long pleated skirt, plain white blouse, a clunky, wool cardigan, and the ugliest brown shoes he'd ever seen in his life. He had to work hard to keep his lips from turning up into a grin and laughing out loud.

“Ms. Aylesworth, so nice of you to join us, won't you come in?” He stepped aside and watched her closely as she stepped over the threshold and into the foyer.

“May I take your, er, sweater?”

“No, thank you.”

He had to give it to her — she had guts to show up dressed like this. But despite her best efforts, she still looked sexy as hell to him.

“Interesting outfit you've chosen for our meeting.”

He was right behind her now and watched as she stiffened her spine, that beautiful blush creeping up her neck. He could see the effect he was having on her and he liked it. Lowering his voice he whispered in her ear.

“I'd like to take that bun right out of your hair.”

She turned around so quickly he almost ran into her.

“There is nothing in our contract giving you the right to comment on my clothing, Mr. Packard.”

“Well, there should be.”

Oh yes, those green eyes were shooting daggers at him. Wouldn't she be surprised when she found out it was his pregnant sister she was meeting, not his lover.

“I should've insisted on a silent partnership,” she mumbled just before going into the study.

James rose from the chair as they entered the study. Wyeth tried again to keep a straight face as James took in her outfit. His look of horror quickly turned to amusement as he realized she'd dressed like this on purpose.

“Shelby, so good to see you again. I'm afraid it's just Wyeth and me tonight.”

“Yes,” Wyeth cut James off before he could give his game away. “Our other party is not feeling so well, long trip and all. I'm sure you understand.”

James looked at him quizzically but thankfully said no more. Good to know their frat brother loyalties were still in place.

Wyeth felt a momentary pang of guilt as he watched a fleeting bit of embarrassment color Shelby's neck and cheeks. She'd really only put herself in this position because of his goading comment. He'd been so angry earlier that he'd said things he didn't really mean or believe. He knew Shelby could never have planned their meeting. Just like he knew she wasn't the kind of woman to manipulate and use him. Still, she had to stop jumping to conclusions. Perhaps this evening would finally put an end to that. He'd tell her, and before this night was ended she'd know the truth, they'd have a good laugh and he'd take great joy in dissembling that God-awful hairdo.

“I see no reason to prolong this meeting then, gentlemen, if you'll take your seats.” She looked at Wyeth over the top of her glasses.

“By all means, Shelby, wow us with your ideas.”

“I intend to.”

She pushed the glasses back up her nose and licked her lips. Wyeth couldn't take his eyes off her mouth. He wanted nothing more than to capture that tongue and take his own exploring.

• • •

Shelby took a deep breath and began arranging the different items she'd brought with her. She'd done her homework and done it well, she wasn't worried about that. She was, however, suddenly regretting her choice of clothing. Damn Wyeth Packard. He'd intentionally made those comments, knowing full well she'd do something to embarrass herself. Why was he staring at her like that? If she didn't know better she'd think that look was carnal.
Save it for your pregnant girlfriend, Packard. I'm not fazed by you. Not much, anyway.

“Before I begin, I think it's important that I explain my thought process to you both. I've taken into consideration what the other bed and breakfasts offer up here, and I think Packard Manor can offer something more, something different.

“We can use the vineyard theme to our advantage, of course. Everyone will expect that. I think we can do one better by making the manor house a haven for readers and writers, bird lovers as well as wine lovers.”