The Bachelor Pact (44 page)

"Looks can be deceiving."

His gaze caught hers, tension rippling between them. But Sophie quickly broke the moment. "I've made a list," she said, resorting to what she hoped was a professional tone as she handed him the clipboard where she'd detailed her plans for the house. "I may not be able to swing everything I'd like right away, but I want an estimate anyway. The basics have to be done first, the kitchen needs updating, the bathrooms repaired, retiled, and painted, and if I can afford it, I want to add a breakfast bar in the kitchen."

Lance paced across the room, examining the space as he ran a finger over the original wood molding. "All right. I'll put together an estimate while you're gone; then I'll start on the bathroom. You'll want the necessities taken care of before you do any cosmetic work."

"Right." She flicked her bangs from her eyes. "I thought you had work crews to do this kind of thing."

"They're finishing that subdivision on Skidaway now. While Reid is overseeing them, I thought I'd start here."

"Great." The man could be in love with the wood grain, but not her.

"Okeydokey. I guess I'll leave you to it, then."

Lance paused and looked up at her. "You don't want to sit down and go over things? I'll need to know what type of fixtures you have in mind, if you want tile in the bathroom, and what kind of wood you'd like to use if you want to redo the flooring in here and the rest of the downstairs—"

"Just look at what I've noted and do the basics for now. I'll decide about those other things when I return."

"Right."

Sophie hugged Jazzy good-bye, then breezed past Lance, trying desperately not to brush against his broad chest as she squeezed through the small doorway. It didn't work. Her breasts rubbed his chest and her thigh met his jeans-clad leg, sending heat bolting through her like a lightning rod. "Oh, and see if you can enlarge this doorway. It's entirely too small for this house."

Especially with you in it.

Lance's muscular hands wrapped around the edge of the clipboard. "All right, we'll talk when you return."

"Great." Sophie smiled brightly. "That is, if I'm not too exhausted. I may need a day or two to recover. A weekend with Rory in Cancun is bound to wear me out."

His smile faltered slightly as she sailed out the door, and she hoped his mind had started spinning with the implications of her comment.

Let him think she was having a wild love affair, for all she cared. The camera footage that would air next week would corroborate her story.

And she would
never
admit any different.

Chapter 3

After Sophie left, Lance studied her list. The two-story Victorian house had been built in the 1800s and was supposedly haunted, although he didn't believe in ghosts. It still had much of the original plumbing and wiring, along with the original wood floors, crown moldings topping the ten-foot ceilings, and fretwork on the wraparound front porch. The dining room still boasted velvet wallpaper in a French design, but it was peeling and faded, and the entire house needed painting. Although the kitchen needed modernizing, the previous owners had installed central heat and air, which would eliminate one major cost, and the wood stove in the kitchen and fireplace in the den and all the bedrooms probably offset high heating bills. When Sophie wasn't using a room, she could simply close it off.

But once he ripped up the chipped bathroom tiles, he might find damage to the subflooring. He was glad she'd picked tiles and left them for him. And if the stains on the kitchen ceiling were what he thought, Sophie might need a new roof. He'd get his men over as soon as possible to replace it.

At least she'd gotten the house for a song. Many of the older homes in the historic district had fallen into more serious disrepair, and had been auctioned off. There were also special state-funded incentives for buyers to renovate the houses with stipulations that the owners adhere to the guidelines issued by the Historical Society.

He jotted down questions to ask her when she returned and sketched out the general plan, then decided to walk through the rest of the house before he tackled the bathroom. With Sophie out of town, he might go ahead and tear out the back doorway. He could finish repairing it before she returned, alleviating the need for her to spend the night in the house without being able to lock the doors. Of course, he'd stay over so he could keep an eye on things. The last thing he needed was for Sophie to be robbed because he'd left her place open. Or for that psycho cat of hers to escape and get hurt.

The phone rang and he hesitated, wondering if he should pick it up. It might be Reid.

No, Reid would call his cell phone. It had to be Sophie, and he was not her answering machine.

Three rings, four, and then the message machine picked up. "Hello," Sophie said in that sultry voice that drew his insides into a knot. "You've reached Sophie Lane. I'm sorry I can't come to the phone, but you know the drill; leave a message."

He told himself to leave the room and not listen, but his feet refused to cooperate. Seconds later another woman's voice echoed over the line. "Sophie, hon, this is Deseree. I saw the 'Dating Game' show, and man, what a catch you found in that jock. You were smart not to choose that dud bachelor number two. Did he have some awful answers or what? He must have crawled out from under a rock."

"I was faking it," Lance muttered.

"Anyway, I can't wait to see the footage of the date on TV."

He rubbed a hand over his face. Neither could he.

"Anyway, I'll try your cell phone. Have a great time!"

Lance hissed between his teeth. Sophie was probably already having a great time, indulging in more hanky-panky with the hulk.

Shaking off the images the caller had conjured in his mind, he took a quick walk through the den, his gaze landing on the country sofa and furnishings. He'd been shocked the first time he'd visited; he'd assumed Sophie would have chrome and glass and white leather, but the furnishings were homey, comfortable. Of course, she had mentioned that most of the furniture had come with the house and that Maddie would help her with the decorating. Would she update the furniture with contemporary pieces or would she opt for antiques and a welcoming atmosphere?

It didn't matter, he told himself. This was Sophie's house. She could do whatever she wanted. He just hoped she didn't ruin it with some ritzy-looking faux marble or cover the pine floors with cheesy shag carpet.

He stepped into her bedroom and hesitated, feeling like a voyeur as he skimmed over the four-poster canopy bed with its satiny white comforter. The bed itself looked decadent, everything in the room in its place, except for the red teddy lying at the foot of the bed as if it were waiting on a lover.

It was not only crotchless but see-through as hell. She might as well wear a piece of saran wrap.

Worse, the scent of Sophie's perfume, some kind of light floral mixture that reminded him of roses, wafted toward him, stirring sensations that he had no business feeling for a woman he didn't want to want.

His body hardened anyway. The traitor.

Had Sophie forgotten the teddy? Had she meant to take it with her to Cancun? And if she had forgotten it, would she crawl into bed tonight totally naked?

* * *

Rory would definitely want to get naked this weekend, Sophie thought. She drummed her fingers on the dash as she drove to the airport, desperately trying to think of excuses.

"Sorry, Rory, but it's the wrong time of the month."

Lame. Besides, some guys didn't care. And he might even use it against her and remind her that the chances of her getting pregnant were nil.

"I forgot protection."

But what if he produced a box of a hundred condoms? And even if he hadn't brought a stash, Cancun, the love nest of Mexico, probably sold them by the case. For all she knew, the maids might leave packages on the pillows at night along with the chocolates.

"I'm not allowed to sleep with you because of the show."

Yeah, right. Like he'd believe that.

"I had too much to drink and want the first time to be really special."

She could hear his sultry reply—"Honey, I'll make sure it's special."

"I'm allergic to sand."

"I'll spread a towel down on the beach."

Sophie's cell phone rang, cutting off her inner diatribe. She glanced at the number and grimaced. Her mother. Was Deseree in trouble again? Had she been arrested? Or did she need more money?

Willing herself to remain calm, she clicked the button to answer. "Hello, Deseree."

"Honey, I saw your show; it was wonderful!"

Sophie merged into the exit lane in the late-evening traffic. "Thanks."

"What have you done to your hair, though? I barely recognized you."

That was the idea.

Her mother tittered on before Sophie could respond. Thank heavens.

"Chopping it off like that, dying it that stark black. I did so love your long golden locks." Deseree hesitated on a gust of expelled air, and Sophie pictured her tilting her Virginia Slims up and daintily taking a puff. Her mother was always worried about her image, always wanting to look sophisticated and demure. Odd, considering her chosen profession, or maybe that was the reason she paid such close attention.

Sophie had never quite understood Deseree. And Deseree hadn't exactly been mother material.

"I needed a change," Sophie explained, not wanting to hurt her mother's feelings by explaining that she was trying to disguise herself. The last thing she wanted was to be recognized as her old self. She had a new career, a new start in life.

Sophie's secrets were not to be revealed.

"And that man you chose, wow, I haven't seen biceps like that since Larry Filch."

Her mother's on and off live-in lover during Sophie's freshman year. Sophie had marked her years in school by her mother's various boyfriends—she couldn't quite call them relationships—and her various apartments, which she couldn't quite call home.

The very reason it was so important to her to buy a house and settle down with one man.

"Yes, he's handsome," Sophie said in a guarded tone as she changed lanes. What was her mother up to? Did she want Sophie to fix her up with a man?

"I bet you're going to have a fabulous time in Cancun."

She doubted that. Not unless she got over Lance really quickly.

"Anyway, I called to see if Lucy arrived."

Her erratic sister? "Lucy's coming to see me?"

"Oh, dear, she hasn't called."

Sophie rolled her eyes, then braked for a red light. Was Deseree actually worried about one of her offspring? Now there was a switch. "No, but I'll try her cell," Sophie said, sensing trouble. And she'd find out what mischief Lucy was up to now.

"You should see the latest moves she added to the Dazzling Diva act. Your sister has become quite the Vegas star. Everyone is talking about her, even the talent scouts."

Guilt niggled at Sophie. She had started Lucy into the showy lifestyle, but now that Sophie had gotten out, she owed it to her sister to help her do the same.

"Do you know why Lucy's coming?"

The expelling of breath signified another dramatic drag on her cigarette. "Something about that singles series you're doing. Lucy wants you to work her into one of the shows, but she'll have to explain the details."

Sophie's premonition of bad luck intensified. "Deseree, I'm almost to the airport and I need to phone Lucy before I board. I'm hanging up now."

"Wait." Fingernails tapped across a hard surface, and Sophie's stomach tightened. That could mean only one thing: her mother had another agenda.

"Listen, hon, I hate to ask you this, but the rent is due and I'm a little pinched. Could you just spot me a few dollars? I promise I'll pay you back the end of the month."

Sophie sighed. But the fact that her mother wanted money at least meant she wasn't up to her old tricks again. That is, unless she'd taken up buying expensive presents for the new man in her life.

Did Sophie really want to know? No.

"All right, I'll put a check in the mail from the airport."

"Thanks, honey. You and Lucy have fun next week. And enjoy your romantic weekend. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Her mother's parting words echoed in Sophie's mind, resurrecting memories of her childhood.
Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

As if there were anything her mother
wouldn't
do.

Sophie grimaced and hung up, then punched in Lucy's number. Deseree was definitely trouble, suddenly trying to ensconce herself in Sophie's and Lucy's lives after being virtually absent all those years.

And Lucy, lovable as she was, exploded through life like a train wreck. Sophie's only hope was to talk to her little sister and try to circumvent disaster before things snowballed out of hand.

But first, she had to find out exactly what scheme Lucy had up her sleeve this time....

* * *

Lance had already torn out the back door and checked for termite damage, then covered it with polyurethane in case it rained. Tomorrow he'd pick up the supplies he needed to replace the door casings. He wiped his neck with a towel. It must be a hundred degrees outside.